Editing Fallen from Grace (section)

===Chapter Four===
“-chii not –che. And you want to stress the second syllable more.” Adeon sighed, rubbing his temples as T’riss corrected him for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. She had taken to teaching him some of the Eldar language to pass the time, of which they seemed to have plenty of. This latest word was giving him particular difficulty for some reason, but he was determined to not to disappoint. “Dru…Druchii?” he sounded out, eliciting a smile from T’riss. “So, what’sit mean then?” Pointing at herself, “It’s what I am, a ‘Dark One.’ You’ll probably hear it quite often if we ever meet more of my kind.”

With the arrival of T’riss’ now-slain former-associates, the pair gained a means to leave Sehella behind. Though the Pain Weaver was little more than a glorified shuttle when it came to Corsairs, it was enough to get them to a nearby mercenary outpost. Though, given the vastness of space, Adeon soon came to realize that the term “nearby” was all but relative. It was now the second week of their journey, and already he regretted not bringing more to do.

He had, at first, been rather reluctant to leave his home behind. Given the damage to his stables, and the blatantly obvious Xenos dead on his property, there wasn’t much choice in the matter. Wanting to follow T’riss certainly helped sway him, but he insisted on at least taking a few items with them. After releasing the slaves from their hold, the pair filled the makeshift cargo-bay with trunks of supplies. The slaves had, of course, offered to aid them after being released onto the snowy plains, but Adeon would have none of it. Instead, he took the last few moments before departing to show them a few tricks about running the farm. With any luck, they’d avoid detection so long as they filled the Pellietier portion of the tithe. It wasn’t true freedom, but it was better than being doomed to endless torture and slaughter. 

“-eon? Adeon? Are you alright?” Snapping out of his reflection, Adeon came to realize he had been staring rather blankly at T’riss for what must have been, at the very least, a few minutes. “Yeah…I’m fine. Just still a bit…overwhelmed, s’all.” She smiled once more, this time supplementing it with a quick squeeze of his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. I know the first time I left Commorragh it wasn’t easy, even though I wanted to get away ever since I was little…” Trailing off, T’riss frowned slightly, swiveling in her chair to stare out at the stars. It was true, speaking of such matters was easier now that Adeon knew what she was, but reliving those memories wasn’t at all pleasant. 

The respectful silence from Adeon soon motivated her to speak. He had a knack for it, she mused, as she began, “Imagine…Imagine being trained from birth to be little more than a puppet for others. You’re told that you represent the continuing struggle of your race to survive, only to be beaten moments later for asking a simple question.” “Right awful,  that.” Adeon grumbled, T’riss nodding in response. “Oh, it gets worse. Eventually, you start to *like* the beatings. They’re the only thing that reminds you that you’re alive, that the seemingly ritualistic torture you inflict on others is not without karmic retribution. As far as I know, most lose themselves in it, soon becoming nothing more than slaves to their vile passions.” “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m mighty glad you didn’t,” came Adeon’s response, returning the shoulder squeeze before the pair found themselves staring at the heavens outside.

Dinner that night passed with an awkward sort of tension, neither really finding words to bridge the gap that existed between them. It wasn’t until Adeon made to return to his quarters that T’riss finally found herself asking, “Um…What was it like? Having a family, I mean.” Adeon paused in the doorway, looking back at the small cantina that served as the Weaver’s kitchen. “Suppose it was nice. Ma was always frettin’ about somethin’ that didn’t matter, and Pa was always real strict. Never really had problems gettin’ along, always there for one another.” He sighed, adding, “Shame they got crushed in that Grox stampede, I never told em how much I appreciated them.” The momentary flash of pain across his face caused T’riss to nearly cringe as the dull ache in her chest increased. “I’m…Sorry. I didn’t mean…” she whispered, looking dejectedly down at the remnants of food on her plate. “I was just curious since…”

It was Adeon’s turn to feel guilty, eliciting another sigh from him before he replied, “S’all right. No harm done. But whatya mean? Don’t they have families on that there Commorragh?” As he took the seat to the right of her, T’riss looked up, eyes watering slightly, “Yes and…No. It’s very rare to actually give birth among my people, so most are simply born from tubes. Since it’s easy to make more half-born, there’s no point in coddling them. Either you quickly learn to survive on your own and prove your worth, or you’re sent to the slave pens…” T’riss trailed off, an awkward silence growing between them. Suddenly, she whirled, coming to face Adeon proper, “What am I to you? Are we family now?”  This stymied him, leaving him speechless between the abruptness of the question and the look of mixed longing and pain that was T’riss’ face. “Nah,” he began, T’riss’ eyes spilling over with tears in response, “We’re somethin’ better.” Before she could do more than widen her eyes, Adeon pulled T’riss close, and the two shared their first kiss. 

When he awoke, Adeon wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The events of the past few hours were a blur of sensations, of which parts of his body still protested against. Yet, as he turned his head to regard T’riss, he couldn’t help but smile. Though she was still asleep, her face positively radiated happiness, and that was certainly worth the temporary injuries he had sustained. Before he drifted back to sleep, Adeon made up his mind – he would do whatever it took to make sure T’riss never lost that smile of hers.