It was fine and normal and great right up until it wasn’t.
The day had been perfectly normal and great, the new normal, at least: Rue had come over in the morning while Elly was finishing getting ready and helped get Sulla ready for school, and Elly had kissed her oldest daughter goodbye for the day as they walked her downstairs together. Then she’d kissed Lektra in her carrier on Rue’s chest goodbye, and headed for the courthouse while Rue took walked Sulla to her classroom.
She actually had court today, so it was a little more exciting than just prep. Rue would be with Lektra at home, caring for her, and would bring Sulla lunch and then pick her up. She’d wonder in moments between witnesses and on her break what Sulla was teaching him today – yesterday had been tag and hide and seek, which Rue was respectively very bad and way too good at, according to her daughter – and feel happy and comfortable about this part of her life at least in all the madness. And Elly would probably come back to some new plant crammed on the apartment balcony and a very happy man, child, and baby. They’d tell her all about their day while she made dinner and played games and then they’d say goodnight to Uncle Rue until tomorrow when he visited again.
Today was an arts and crafts day, but Sulla and Rue weren’t drawing (the fridge and all the walls were plastered at this point with Sulla’s artwork and Rue’s, stick figures and crayon houses amidst delicate botanical pencilwork). Rue had made countless flower crowns and braids for Sulla, and today it seemed to be her turn to show him beads like the kit Elly had gotten her from the market. It had small block letters and charms and tiny chains. The Twi'lek wore a bracelet that said SULLA and had made a necklace for Rue with his name too.
But over in the living room, she seemed to be struggling with the clasp, and finally gave up with a huff.
- “I can’t get it,” pouted Sulla, and Rue smiled at her, wiping his eyes (he still always cried when he was happy, which was a lot as part of their family) and taking the necklace.
“Let us see…” He fiddled with it for a moment, but was obviously inexperienced in putting such a thing on himself. That didn’t surprise Elly even if it hurt her heart. She knew by now there was so much Rue had never done before or had. It seemed that they found ten new things to him every day and her heart broke every time. Before long, two sets of puppy eyes were turned her way, though she was sure only Sulla knew she was doing it. “Elly? W-would you please kindly could you help us?”
The hybrid was getting better at asking for things and for help. That helped warm her chest a bit as she set her spoon down and came around out of the kitchen.
“You got it,” she assured, even though she didn’t wear a lot of jewelry herself. She knew how to put on necklaces and mess with the delicate fiddly clasps that the took forever. “Turn around and move your hair for me, okay?”
“Yes, Miss!”
He twirled on his knees and bared his back, so quick and servile there was that cracking in her ribs again much worse than any punch. He pulled his beautiful braid aside and bared his neck too, and those awful numbers were there over the collar of today’s shirt, one of the soft green ones they’d gotten together their first trip, and–
And usually she didn’t look very closely at those brands, because he’d see her get angry or upset and they couldn’t have that, but today they were right there and she had to look there to put on the necklace, and–
And it was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Because under that horrible awful terrible barcode someone she wished she could bring to justice had burnt and stamped into him like he was a thing, there was another symbol. One she recognized, now. A curved sword.
A scimitar.
Like those the cultists tattooed in their mouths. Like him.
It was rare that a day go as well as Ellisyn’s day had gone. Court went smoothly, Rue was over to watch the kids and keep both them and her company, and plenty of smiles that warmed her heart.
But there was a reason it was rare.
The woman heeded the calls of Sulla and Rue, joining them in their arts and crafts for a short moment before going back to work on her own projects.
Every hair on the Kendis’ body stuck out as her mind put two and two together. Out of all the people who fought against Scimitar, she was lucky enough to come out mostly unscathed. People had died and been tortured around her as she was simply tormented by visions of her ex and losing her Sulla, things that were still beyond traumatizing.
It took each and every ounce of the Firrerreo’s willpower to resist grabbing Rue by the neck and throwing him away from her little girl, her supressed anger threatening to take over.
The necklace fell from Elly’s shaky hands. She stood up and took a step back, her breaths speeding up while her flesh tinted itself silver. “Rue… why is there a scimitar on your neck?” the Lawyer’s voice was steady and measured, sounding eeriely similar to the voice she used in court.
Rue stiffened and twisted even before Elly spoke, his montrals allowing him to hear the changes in her respiration and heart rate from across a field, nevermind right behind him. He looked concerned, and then all at once he was shrinking back, quailing from her tone and whatever expression was on her silvery face.
He looked scared. Of her.
“Elly,” his voice was a whisper. He flinched in the way he did when he was catching himself to stop from bowing on the floor. He looked at Sulla – and oh how dare he look at her daughter – who looked curious now too, paying attention, and more fear flickered into his face, fear and worry and shame. “I…it is–” he stuttered a moment, and then, stumbling, “it is t-the mark of God. God and the,” again he looked at Sulla, and then tried to whisper even lower just for Elly, putting his hand in front of his mouth like they’d taught him to do for ‘secrets’, “the Masters.”
Elly’s face was contorted in a mild anger, her fists balled at her sides as she attempted to remain calm. No matter the case, Sulla was still there and she didn’t need to see any violence.
Quickly her mind searched for any reason to explain the mark away, to still label Rue as good in her mind. He was family. How could he be anything else? Thankfully, thanks to breathing exercises and a whole lot of mental gymnastics, Ellisyn was able to remember the man bound to the temple she and the team had explored, someone who was a good man in spite of being marked by Scimitar and working for the man.
“You… He’s no god.”
Rue’s frightened look only worsened, eyes widening, and he quickly shook his head. His muttered prayer was rapid and low, aimed away from Sulla, “Please, Lord God, she speaks in ignorance, she knows not what she says, punish this one instead, please.” Then, turning to the young Twi'lek, he spoke again: “Sulla, your mother and I must speak, can you please and thank you kindly excuse us for one moment?”
Sulla didn’t look happy about that, but taking a glance at her mother told her something was wrong. She quickly hugged Rue and then picked up some of her books and went to her room. They both waited for the sound of the door closing before Rue looked back up to Elly, begging openly now as he dropped flat to bow to her.
“Please, Elly! Don’t say such things! God is absolute, He will punish such blasphemy!” Tears fell from his eyes. “Please, don’t! He’ll hurt you or the girls, please no.”
“it’ll be fine, honey,” Elly said to Sulla before she went on her way to her room. Once the door closed, Ellisyn opened her mouth to speak but was beat to the punch by Rue bowing to her, something that instantly forced her stomach to churn.
The Firrerreo wasn’t having any of it, though. She knelt down and grabbed Rue from under his arms and tried to set him on his feet. “Let him try because he will only fail.”
“No no no no,” Rue was openly sobbing now, a growing panic despite how he went completely limp in her hold, sort of like a scruffed kitten. “No no He will hurt us please Elly!”
The lawyer was at a complete loss. Every time she had tried to deal with Rue’s obsessive obedience to his former masters it always ended with the pair in pain with no ground covered.
With the frail man in hand, Ellisyn tried to lock her mossy eyes with his. “Rue. Look at me. I’ve met your god, I’ve fought your god and I will die before I let him hurt you or the girls. You have my word.”
Rue was shaking his head, the tears and snot fat and blinding, choking hiccups as he tried to peer back at Elly while his chest heaved. “You can’t, you can’t, no one can, God is absolute.” What part of her statement he was even talking about was hard to say.
Dealing with a toddler and a newborn had given Elly the patience needed to deal with a crying individual, the hybrid included. She allowed him to cry for a few moments before continuing, not wanting to overwhelm him as she channeled every ounce of unhealthy protectiveness she could.
“I can and I will. No God is stronger than my love for you and Sulla and Lektra. I’ll keep you safe.”
Though the respite just to sob was a breath given, the continued insistence only continued Rue’s upset; it was inevitable, really, given what they were discussing.
“Elly does not understand,” he stuttered and cried out in fits and starts. “God is truth and fire and death and power and He will punish. No love can save us. It never has.” He shook his head miserably, thin shoulders caving in with the weight of grief. “Not grandmother’s for me, nor mine for her, nor mine for any of my litluns. Ours for each other and the girls will not. It cannot. He is too powerful, too magnificent.”
The woman’s stubborn and headstrong belief that her way is usually the right way was not helping the situation at hand. Elly didn’t know what was keeping Rue from understanding that Scimitar was no god and that he was safe with her and was at a complete loss when it came to figuring a way to deal with the hybrid’s fears.
“Rue… I do understand. I know you’re afraid but you’re safe with me. You’re safe with us. We’ve survived worse than Scimitar. I’m sorry that he hurt you in the past, that he took everything from you, but he won’t take any more. He can’t.”
“Do not take God’s name in vain!” It was a choking hiss that turned into an all out wail. Realizing Elly wasn’t going to stop, he curled in on himself as best he could, bowing as best he could while she was holding on to him, and started speaking softly and furiously, canticle after canticle, chanting prayers.
Prayers for the inevitable punishment to befall him. For detailed wrath to strip his skin, take his blood, lock him back in the dark, set him on fire, pull out his scales and nails and teeth and hair. Cut him and whip him and electrocute him and break him. Again. Again. Again.
Just not his family.