𝕮𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
━━𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑨 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑻 !
❝ 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 ❞
━━ 𝘊𝘌𝘝𝘈𝘙𝘠𝘈
𝟭𝟬 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝟭𝟯 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀, 𝟭𝟲 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀
𝕺𝗕𝗜-𝗪𝗔𝗡 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗕𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗦 been on many planets in his life– seeing every corner of the galaxy is one of the many great advantages that comes with being a Jedi. In countless missions he had the opportunity to explore planets that were covered by water completely, planets without an actual surface that were made of gas and planets that died and lived in endless fire and magma.
But Cevarya is most certainly one he will remember - not because it is covered in any dangerous substances but because of its extraordinary beauty.
On his flight through hyperspace Obi-Wan has already went through all the data about Cevarya that he has downloaded from the library beforehand, he had educated himself on their habits and read every available document about the council. Six Councilmembers in perfect balance: three women and three men, three humanoids and three aliens as a wholesome representation of the population. Over time a court of assisting ministers and advisors has evolved around it until politics seem to be more like an endless game of power and amusement between the Cevaryan elite.
It is Cevarya's outstanding wealth that makes this life of partying and pleasure possible – Mace Windu has already hinted it before, but Obi-Wan doesn't realize it's extent until the experiences it himself. Ambassadors from past (and very few) missions to Cevarya have already raved about the huge mansions gathered around the palace and from where the elite drives up to the palace in the evening, they have marvelled about the wide ocean and majestic mountains, colorful sunsets and magnificent night skies.
But Obi-Wan wasn't willing to believe them fully. Not until he has set foot onto the planet himself.
His starship shudders as it gently hits Cevaryan ground for the first time and his cockpit opens up, letting a warm summerbreeze rush through his hair – it smells of salt and heavy flowers and crystal springs high in the mountains. The wind carries the sounds of the city, chattering and shouting, metal hitting onto metal and sea birds squeaking with the rolling tides.
Now, that he walks to the edge of the circular landing platform, stretching out his muscles from the long flight, he fully agrees with those ambassadors. The black sandstone platform is at the bottom of the palace, but still high over the ocean and the capital Soylon. Bright daylight turns golden roofs and fountains into glistening spots of light – the filigrane, white buildings contrast with the rough mountains that seem to swallow up every sunbeam that touches them. The houses get smaller the further down to the coast they are, and at the bottom of the bay he can just barely see something that must be the haven and the beach – it is hard to tell with the frothing up spray from the waves crashing against the shore.
Impressive, he thinks, very impressive indeed.
"Welcome." A small escort of guards is already approaching him, their golden armors shining as they walk over the bridge to the platform. The first of them is speaking.
"We are honored to welcome you on Cevarya, Master Jedi," he says. As the guard speaks the last syllables he crosses his hands over his chest before laying three fingers onto his forehead and bows down before Obi-Wan.
The Cevaryan greeting, he recalls. Sign for an open heart and a clear mind. It is a centuries-old gesture that is still used to honor a person of great respect.
"The honor is all mine," he replies, bowing slightly.
Obi-Wan gestures R4 to follow him as the guards encircle him to guide him to the palace that he now fully sees for the first time – and for a splitsecond he is a padawan again, seventeen years old, face round and a braid dangling from his head, marvelling about the wonders this galaxy has to offer.
The palace is a masterpiece of glass and white marble and another translucent stone he has never seen before, forming sharp arches and towers reaching up into the sky, their peaks reflecting the sunlight and thin bridges connecting them. The building looks like a prisoner amongst the mountains, as if it was born from them and never fully escaped their grip. Despite its size it seems weightless and elegant, a gracefully carved extension of the mountain it is on.
Obi-Wan enters through wide doors and his eyes have to adjust to the shadows for a second –without the sun shining down on him, it is slightly cooler as well. It is quiet now, the winds from the capital don't reach up that far, and he feels as if he has entered a sanctuary: pure, wide and peaceful, only the melody of birds chirping and distant laughter as his footsteps echo through the spacious marble halls.
The guards come to an halt in front of a huge panoramic window facing the ocean and Obi-Wan stops. He can't help but notice that Cevaryans seem to be quite eager to show off their beautiful home – they have enough reason to do so though. Far below him waves roll towards the shore, and inlands he can see the tiny blobs of citizens on a square that must be a large marketplace. R4 whines beside him, drawing Obi-Wan's attention to the two people entering the room.
The guards step back respectfully, and he automatically knows who they are due to studying his files: it is Bryaenna Alberya, recognizable by her dark hair and tanned skin – she is smaller than he expected – and the other one is N'ulo Seylaar, a green-skinned twi'lek.
"Master Jedi," Councilmember Alberya says. "We are delighted by your visit. I am Councilmember Bryaenna Alberya and this is my ally N'ulo Seylaar."
Both greet him with their arms crossed before their chest and their fingers on their forehead, and Obi-Wan returns the gesture without hesitation – he can't tell if they are surprised that he knows it or not.
"We are terribly sorry that it is only the two of us welcoming you here," N'ulo Seylaar continues. His voice is low like thunder rolling on a horizon faraway, which contrasts his size. "A person of your importance should be greeted by the entire council, but sadly it is only us that are available."
"You will meet the rest at the dinner later," Councilmember Alberya adds and smiles. "But for now you shall be guided to your rooms where you can rest after your long journey."
Obi-Wan thanks her and as the guards surround him once again, he catches a glimpse upon a third person standing in the hallway behind the two Councilmembers, features almost completely hidden in the dim light – but if he is not wrong she is the same height as Bryaenna and their hair seems to be the same color.
Before he can see much more the guards guide him around a corner and deeper into the palace.
𝕿𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟 is a mirror of the two moons that have risen in the sky.
White marble glows from within, its presence having absorbed the afternoon's sun, lanterns are draped between sky-high pillars emitting warm light, a golden mosaic on the ground shows the constellations – Obi-Wan feels like he has stepped out of the palace and into another dimension, one that is bright and vivid and beautiful. As his hands brush over the railing he is surprised that there is no moondust rising from it, no stars glistening on his palms.
A deep, about twenty metres wide chasm separates the dining hall from the palace. To enter it Obi-Wan has to cross a delicate bridge with iridescent vines curling down to a river below, its dark water murmuring peacefully.
Tall, brightly lit columns carry a transparent cupola high above him and over the circular room, the same constellations as on the marble floor shine right through the ceiling that way – due to Cevarya's early sunsets the sky is colored in deepest indigo already. There are no walls or windows, only wide moonlight stairs leading to balconies all around the hall, from where the people can look over the town and the ocean.
The people.
They are everywhere, in little groups or larger crowds, around little tables and gathered at fountains glistening in the lights. From where Obi-Wan is standing on top of the stairs he can see all their colorful dresses, the expensive gems and jewelry draped around their necks. A small orchestra plays a heavenly melody, the music floating up to the stars, accompanied by laughter and the clinging of glasses, a hymn so weightless, light like a feather carried by mild wind. But even with the music he can still hear the waves crashing against the shore far below him, can still hear the wind singing past his ears as it comes from the mountains.
Obi-Wan has thought of the palace as impressive during daylight – well, that is nothing compared to it at night.
The world is in a strange limbo, floating somewhere between reality and fantasy, the gravity is different here, like he hasn't left space completely yet – there is still bright starlight on his skin, still supernovae tempting him to burn himself on them. It is like standing on an ebony abyss, bowing before the universe – breathtaking, ethereal, but the force sends warning shivers down his spine: he has to stay alert at all costs.
This beauty is like glass shards whose edges catch the starlight – he will cut himself if he is not careful.
But it is a dream of champagne sparkling like the stars, graceful like the pale birds flying outside, moonlight feathers whispering softly as they are carried by sweet winds. Past the luminous dining room and past the mountains that are nothing more than giant shadows in the darkness and to the ocean: a mystery of singing waves and white spray that reflects the moons, carrying barques in a cold embrace whose lanterns shine over the water.
It is...
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Someone joins him on top of the stairs, an onyx dress whispers over the marble floor.
"Absolutely." He turns around just to see the woman from earlier standing next to him, eyes shimmering as she watches the waves outside. She returns his gaze.
Her similarity with Councilmember Alberya is even more obvious now that she is closer: her hair is pinned up and the few loose strands touching her shoulders have the same dark shade, her skin the color of warm coffee, she is even the same small height as Bryaenna.
She brushes over the midnight satin of her dress before looking up to Obi-Wan again. "I love my home with all my heart," she goes on, her calm voice cutting easily through the harmony of the flutes and violins. It sounds like a vow, and he can't help but to shiver slightly.
(If he only knew.)
The force feels strange on this place, dull from all the lies and schemes and his judgement is clouded, he cannot rely on it to guide him anymore. And so he has to observe even more carefully; he notices how her chin is upright, how her eyes harden up as her gaze wanders over the courtiers and then how undeniably soft they go as she lifts her eyes up to the wary silhouette of the twin moons shining through the cupola. He can sense burning passion molded to icy flames, trying to escape the form she is caged in, but there is something else he can't label. It are just a few seconds – usually enough for him to figure the most people out, but not enough for her.
"Welcome to Cevarya." Her lips curve ever so slightly as she tilts her head and in her eyes he can see the same awe for this planet. For a second they stay standing on top of the stairs, two marionettes fallen out of the game, an ebony queen and a white knight, side by side.
Just for a second.
Before Obi-Wan can reply she nods politely and leaves standing there, weirdly stunned as he watches her black dress vanish in the crowd of courtiers.
𝕺𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗔 𝗙𝗘𝗪 seconds later Councilmember Alberya spots him on the stairs and gestures him to come closer. She is a flash of pearl, light purple and pale blue that contrasts with her dark hair and the sharp arch of her eyebrows, but she clearly seems to be glowing, thriving between all these courtiers and their games.
"Meet Shi'ra Cal'trel and Orin Espereth, my fellow Councilmembers." A younger female and a male Twi'lek, Shi'ra in pale blue and Orin in dark green, but there are already wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead. "Shi'ra is our youngest member, she only joined recently."
The two other members keep their distance – their names are Teron Verza and Maris Zeroh according to Bryaenna's whispered explanation -, they only greet him briefly, expressing how honored they are about his visit. He later finds out that they are forming the opposition to Alberya and Seylaar since their voices demand Cevarya to join the Seperatists.
"To the Republic," Maris says and raises a glass to him. Her eyes shimmer like the ones of a warrior excited for their next fight. Teron Verza crosses his arms in a mocking salute.
He will keep an eye on these two.
N'ulo quickly maneuvres him away from them, introducing him to more courtiers.
As a Jedi Obi-Wan has learned early in his life how to see through the surface, how to sense what nobody else does and how to analyze the information he is given. This court makes no difference, in the course of the evening he studies it from every angle possible, he listens precisely and his blue eyes don't miss the slightest detail.
What he finds is a darkness, the force in turbulent ripples, stirring and swaying in disturbing patterns – unlike the courtiers he hasn't yet fully learnt how to navigate in those troubled waters. They are all bound by shadowy ranks of lies, a centuries-old, crippling structure of ministers and consultants trying to gain more power, all centered around the council: six individuals with more power than they can bear, forming a horrid kaleidoscope of deceit and politics.
A charade, and nothing more, he understands and realizes one more thing: these people come for entertainment, and they come to play.
And it is stirring together what most certainly doesn't belong: political power and money. There are no morals holding everything together, not anymore, no laws, no constitution but that the council can do whatever it wants as long as a majority forms in it. And the courtiers go with it, bending like grass in the wind, molding into whatever form the person they are trying to impress wants to see most. They don't know that they are quite literally dancing before an abyss, that one move could let everything implode.
This court is an organized chaos on the verge of flooding over.
"Excuse me," Bryaenna Alberya says to his right, interrupting his thoughts. Something about her tone is different, more hesitantly. "Do you have a second, Master Jedi?"
As he nods the older woman guides him to a quiet corner of the hall, where the only two courtiers standing there quickly leave upon their arrival. Councilmember Alberya lifts her chin up to the moons, firming her jaw and her upright posture before she turns to him.
"There is something I need your help with, and it is not the rebellions or our protection from it." She shakes her head briefly. "Well, I suppose in a way it is. I know this is much to ask since you are probably more than occupied here already, but it is about my daughter, Neira."
She gestures to the woman in the black dress he has met briefly earlier, which confirms his intuition about them being related, and an expression he can't explain creeps into her eyes. "I fear for her. There...there has been an attack on her recently, we prevented it last minute, but still-"
Bryaenna sighs and turns back to Obi-Wan and he realizes that the expression in her eyes is a mixture of love and grief. "I think this attack was supposed to scare me. You see, there is a great tension in the council at the moment, and the rioting only adds to it. Maybe they want me to back down from my position upon Cevarya staying in the republic.
"Which I definitely won't," she adds, every nuance of her posture unyielding and firm. "But I still fear for my daughter, especially now that the riots grow more aggressive. Would you protect her during your stay? Only in the afternoons when she meets ministers in town, that's when Neira is the most vulnerable."
Obi-Wan looks in her pleading face without actually seeing it. Watching over a Councilmember's daughter would take away from his time, but that is rather meaningless regarding the fact that this little favor would serve as a great source of information about the council and it's members. And, above all, it's a Jedi's duty to protect, in these times more than ever.
And so he nods and promises: "I will protect her."
Bryaenna's hands relax around the glass she is holding, but there is one more thing he needs to know: "Is she aware of the danger she is in? Does she know about the attack?"
"She doesn't. I haven't told her." She looks down to the city right beneath them and then to her daughter. The music has changed now and the courtiers line up in pairs of two to dance – elegant, weightless, like they could join the birds flying beneath the stars. "And I would like it to stay that way. She is tough, but she needs her focus in times like these."
"Of course."
"Thank you." Bryaenna bows her head, but unlike with Maris before, there is nothing mockingly about the gesture.
She leaves him at the balcony, alone with his thoughts and the lights of the city, on a planet so beautiful and strange he will never forget it.
✧･ﾟ:* 𝕬𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘙'𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘌 *:･ﾟ✧
actual footage of the cevaryans living their best life while the galaxy is dying in the clone wars
HHHH AND YESSSS-
y'all know that I am such a big hoe for everything with symbolism, and the chess metaphor from chapter one will kinda continue throughout the first act SO YEAH OBI WAN N NEIRA ARE LIKE THE BLACK QUEEN N THE QHITE KING OR SMTH AJHH i think too much
anywaysssss this chapter was a TON of descriptive writing & tbh i struggled a lot with this chapter BUt i tried my best 🥴 i hope you liked it & tell me what u think of cevarya! (&this chapter in general lmaoo) 💗
also lil note i changed the name of deadpvets husband nulo rool to nulo seylaar bc i feel like it sounded better...lowkey not sure tho if this name already exists in sw universe , if yes lmk! 🤪🤪
also big thank chuuuu to miss charnobi who was so kind to beta read this mess of a chapter!! ❤️
and thank u all ofc for reading &voting &commenting i luv u vv much 🥺❤️
OH AND ALSO YESSSS THEY DINALLY MET AHHHHH SO EXCITED BYE IMMA GO PASS OUT