#talia/amayia

[herald-divine-hell]

To Amayia from Talia: You have feelings and a heart just like I do and that heart deserves to be loved and cared for; like the rest of you.

To Alex from Eryn: It’s ok to need to stop working to take care of yourself and the world won’t end if you’re a little unproductive in order to rest… especially if its with me.

Amayia would get a touch red and shyly reach for her hand and say something of the sorts of, "My heart is only shown what kindness is from you, and how to care for the ones I love through you. And I think...I think I like that a lot, being cared by you."

Alexandra would just chuckle softly before sliding into her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck, and laying a kiss to Eryn's jaw. "The world can never rest, but that's why you have to cheat it from out of them. Now, show me how to be unproductive, ma cheri."

[noeldressari]

Enchantment of the Sword

Wrote a poem for Talia and @herald-divine-hell’s goddess!Amayia. Enjoy!

~

On a quiet evening,

Before the stars had graced the skies,

A weary warrior came down by the lake.

The war etching crimson lines in her skin,

And streaks of sweat across her brow.

~

Still was she when she first heard it,

The first notes sung by a goddess

Who sat at water’s edge, beneath the green,

Singing so sweet a sound

As to lull the sun to darkness.

 ~

Softly, the warrior drew nearer,

Entranced by the goddess’s song.

She watched the goddess twine the stars

In patterns around her fingers,

Forming new constellations

With as much ease and grace

As a simple parlor trick.

 ~

The goddesses voice grew softer,

Her song soothing the warriors longing soul.

Oh, how sweet the song was,

Reminding her of bright days before

Her imprisonment to the sword.

 ~

Ever weary the warrior became,

Her body faltering as her mind stilled.

Resting against bark covered in softest moss,

She allowed her eyes to close

And brow to bend.

 ~

When the warrior woke,

Her head rested not on wood nor grass,

But on the goddess’s lap,

Looking up into eyes of grace.

 ~

The goddess touched her with such tenderness,

Not the kiss of morning dew could compare.

Her fingers weaved new constellations

Into the warrior’s locks as a crown of stars.

Her lips turned up at her warrior’s blush.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia sitting on the couch with Amayia in her lap, trying(and failing lol) to hide her blush at Amayia's fingers tracing over her muscles and scars, and turning her head once in a while to kiss her gently, smiling like a goof

Amayia lives for her lover’s smiles - seeing them always makes her feel as if she’s doing something worthy of living for, that she’s worthy of living, too. She adores tracing Talia’s scars, especially lingering at the places that she knew Talia took for her, a few during the Inquisition; a lot during the Blight. And, if she is feeling particularly teasing, she’ll roll her hips against her, or maybe slip onto her thigh to ride for a bit, while leaving soft marks at her neck, whispering in a dozen languages Talia’s beauty and loveliness were like the dawn.

[noeldressari]

Amayia being a powerful force on the battlefield with her sword and magic, but Talia sees she lacks the refinement of a trained swordswoman, so she offers to help her technique through training and lessions. Well, that leads to a lot of close situations...with bodies pressed up against one another, being pinned here or there. :3

It seemed like a sound idea at the time when she had offered. Now Talia finds herself struggling to keep her focus or even get her brain to function properly. She tries to hide it best she can, but every now and then her stutter and nervousness comes through when she gives instruction and corrections. At least she can blame the redness in her face and sweat on the exertion, though neither help much with the gay panic racing through her mind. Underneath the tension, she's impressed. The woman certainly has a lot of strength in those little limbs and she takes direction well. But her incredible strength isn't the only thing leaving Talia breathless... Once Talia fell and Amayia ended up straddling Talia’s waist staring down at her with sweat slowly sliding down her skin and a dark look in her eyes. Talia felt her soul leave her body.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia and Amayia's first time together, and Talia hesitantly reaches to touch Amayia, but then moves her hand away at the last moment, but then Amayia grabs her hand and puts it on her, and Talia slowly becomes more and more comfortable and bold.

Amayia reads lots of books so she can garnish good ways to treat Talia. Before they get really down into it, Amayia worships her scars and muscles , letting her fingers trail over her skin soft and gently. She whispers softly if what she is doing is okay constantly.

[noeldressari]

Talia and Amayia braiding each other's hair after a training session and a warm bath. :3

After training, the braid Talia normally has her hair in is all messed up. When she takes it out and tries to redo it, Amayia offers to do it for her. Talia has to sit on the ground so she can reach, but she doesn't mind at all. The feeling of the other womans fingers running through her hair is soothing. The experience reminds her of Highever, when her mother would always fuss with her hair while Talia fiddled and refused to sit still. Now she's more apt to cooperate. Afterwards she offers to do the same, which is also enjoyable for her. Amayia's hair is thick but lovely to work with. All the tension worked up during the training session evaporates with the mist in the warm waters. She lets out a sigh as she eases into it, but her breath hitches when she catches sight of Amayia. She can't help but admire the broad muscles on Amayias powerful body, even if it leaves her a blushing gay mess. Her skin trembles when the other womans fingers gently trace over it, and a delightful shiver runs down her spine. She feels so exposed, and yet at once, so safe.

[noeldressari]

How does Talia react to Amayia making her a new sword?

Talia’s just staring at it, admiring the craftsmanship, weighing the excellent balance. Her father would approve. This is a quality sword. She keeps looking back and forth between it and the beautiful woman in front of her, wondering how to respond. Internally she’s overflowing with love. She’s grinning and beaming like a child on its birthday. When she does finally come up with a response, it feels insufficient. A simple, “... Thank you... It’s beautiful...” Muttered out followed by a crushing hug and kiss.

[herald-divine-hell]

A Meeting of Kindness

A/N: So, this fanfic is with @noeldressari‘s Talia Cousland and Amayia as padawans in a Star Wars AU. I’m sorry if Talia isn’t all that accurate to her actual character. I’m really bad at doing that with other people’s ocs asldkada. But I hope you all enjoy!

-

As night gathered in the skies of Coruscant, light flickered awake in a sea of silver and amber, the underglow of rolling clouds burnt with silvery-gold. Streaking smoky-silver and scarlet lines blurred as taxi-pods and shuttles zipped across the air, a constant buzzing hum as clusters of stars peaked and winked in the dark mantle. 

A wind picked up from the north, bringing the scent of a metallic-soaked chilled air to Amayia’s senses, shuffling her thick robes, lightsaber hilt rattling against her thigh. Fingers sprayed across a wide stone surface, one of the few remaining in the metropolis-planet. A white marble that glowed with the orange-gold fires of the sun during the day and the icy silver waters of moonlight by night. 

Coruscant still dazzled her, even though it would have been nearly two decades since she had joined the Jedi Order as a padawan. At night, a new world blossomed from the brilliant glow of the day. Though fires sparkled through countless windows and ledges, as transmission towers flared and in and outgoing ships whined through the atmosphere with the glow of shooting stars, a peace settled onto Amayia’s shoulders; a peace she had not known since she was a child waiting at her mother’s knee to hear some fable story. Only at night did the concerns of the war bleed away from her mind, only at night could she hear the Force settle from its conflict. Light and dark dwindled to a single strung hum, then another, until a melody whispered in her mind, flooded her soul. Thundering battle fled away, the screams of dying men, women, and children fading away until there was only her and the Force, an old ally, and an older friend. 

“You should be getting some rest.”

Amayia’s eyes turned away from the thicket of towering skyscrapers, gleaming silver-white by strands of starlight, the horizon threaded with their soft flicker. Yellow-white light pooled from beyond in the curved archway, lines of columns marching deeper into the Temple like rows of soldiers. A few golden and bronze statues of ancient Jedi flanked the sides of the entrance of the pathway, staring out into the dark city with serene expressions, some with firm, dignified features, others with kindly smiles and eyes. 

Light bathed about Talia’s form as if the Force pulsed off her in waves, lighting a sheen over her long brown hair, shadows scurrying about her features, heightening her sharp cheekbones, softening her shyly smiling lips. Vivid blue eyes glimmered with silver and scarlet and azure, reflections of the city beyond, twirling about like swirling jewels in a sea. In her hands were two porcelain cups with thin plums of white-gray smoke streaming until it faded away into the darkness. 

“I like to take walks before every mission,” replied Amayia, turning a little to face the Padawan that was assigned to her. Tomorrow they would be leaving to take up commands as leaders of two squadrons of clone troopers, in hopes of infiltrating a Separatist base and gathering intel before a full on ground assault and occupation could occur. The first time Amayia was allowed a command of her own without her master’s presence. Any trickle of fear never roused in her heart. She would do what she must. Amayia had learned that a long time ago. 

And yet...she never was partnered with another Padawan, and never alone. Master Or-Lan had always been careful in choosing where Amayia was sent, and who she went with, if he could not attend. A few with Jedi Knights, often in escort missions for departing senators in dangerous sectors. More often with just her master himself and his legion, the 406th. Amayia knew she was not the greatest communicator, never truly able to grasp the understanding of emotions, especially when it was inflicted hard by others. Master Or-Lan did, though, and tried for years to get her to connect, through the Force or not. But she never can. Whenever she did try to touch another’s emotions, the Force skirted away, like water sloshing up against the side of a dam, never able to pass through. She could still sense it, however; the rage and sadness of a mother or father who lost their child from a bombing run. Yet when she tried to ease them, to bring peace to their trembling, rage-scorched hearts, the barrier sprawled like spun webs, thickening into a wall stronger than steel, with no gaps to break through. Worried did not fill her, the Force a soothing, constant current through her veins, but she knew that any comfort to the locals on the planet they would be heading toward will be lost on her. 

Perhaps that is why Master Or-Lan and Master Findrall choose her to be paired with Talia Cousland. She had only heard her in passing from muttering Jedi in classes, frustration mixed with high praise. She was highly skilled in battle, though aggressive, with her sharp and savage cuts, barreling charges, and overwhelming advance. A few whispers from other Padawans muttered how she could hold a whole battalion of battle droids on her own, and from her appearance, Amayia was sure she could. Long, thick, and straight brown hair fell down to the small of her back, a few strands framing her strong jaw, with its chiseled and sharp jawline. High cheekbones reared proudly on a noble face, but there still was a softness to her, at her lips and in her eyes. A faint blush nestled her pale cheeks, puffs of cool air misted past her lips. Northern wind stirred her long locks until it shivered like a banner of brown toward the west, drips of gold glimmering across like waves. Broad shoulders were covered in a thick brown outer cloak, with the loose fitted sandy-brown robes shrouding the sturdy body beneath. High brown boots crawled up to her knees, and a flash of silver glimmered when Talia shifted a little, making her way toward Amayia. 

“That’s fair,” replied Talia, as she strode to her side, her gaze flickering toward the city. “We’re leaving tomorrow, though. Will you be walking again?” 

Amayia nodded and turned back toward the city, returning both hands onto the wide cool surface. “I’ll be meditating in the gardens before we depart after my walk, if you wish to join me, Padawan Talia.” The words felt clumsy to her, even as her voice carried it still in an even tone. Small talk was never her element. 

The blush seemed to grow on her cheeks, the silver and gold wash of star and city bringing it out so brightly it appeared to overwhelm Talia. Her smile grew a bit, one she flashed at Amayia as she rested the two cups on the balcony still, elbows resting as she leaned forward. “I just might. And, please, call me Talia. No need for formalities when we’ll be guarding one another’s backs.”

A touch of warmth tickled Amayia’s cheeks as she dwindled her thumbs together. Despite her clumsy nature with her emotions, a bubble of fire flickered in her heart at the gentle glow in Talia’s eyes, a determined, sweet, and kind sunflare that spun a thousand diamonds with speared light. Her master often joked that Amayia could never smile, but after a sudden realization, she felt her lips curling into one. “Yes,” admitted Amayia, nodding a bit as gaze returned to the light-blurred skies and sparsely clouded skies. “That will be a good endeavor.” 

At the corner of her eye, she saw Talia testing the name in silence, her smile never leaving her even then. Though, her shoulders did seem to lessen its tension with Amayia’s agreement. Was she afraid that she would have said no? The possibility was strong. She never was particularly close with any of her fellow Padawans, even less than any of the Masters, except for her own. But Amayia still saw the practicality of using only their names to communicate. It was less of a mouthful to say, such allowing greater ability for success-

No, she thought, a shiver of anger rustling across the river of the Force which rolled through her. She was only asking for you to treat her as an equal, a partner. It had nothing to do with the outcome of success for the mission, she had to tell herself, her Master’s voice whistling through her mind, tilted with disappointment. 

“Hot chocolate?” asked Talia suddenly, nudging the cup toward her. 

Amayia blinked, torn away from her thoughts, a ripple of discontent skidding across the calming Force. “Hot chocolate?” Her eyes flickered to the silver-glinting cup, the steam still swirling in waning pillars. Grasping the cup in her hands, gloved fingers brushing over Talia’s, she whispered her thanks as she pulled it close to her chest. Raising and tipping the drink, warmth flooded her body, thawing the night’s chill grasp from her bones. Sweetness overwhelmed her, in a way that she had not felt in many years, and she drank it heavily.

“Like it?” Talia sipped hers, a bit more slower than Amayia’s but a touch heavier. Sighing as she pulled the cup from her lips, her smile seemed more calming than shy. “Hot chocolate is one of my favorite drinks.”

“It is mine as well,” admitted Amayia, the smile from before caressing her face, as the embarrassment burned away by the sweetness of the hot chocolate and the soothing sight of Talia’s smile. It was a pretty smile, matching well with her good-humored eyes. Talia would be good to have when it would come to comforting masses, to ensure cooperation instead of resistance against Republic occupation. Even if her emotions swayed her, perhaps that was why their masters pushed them together on this mission. Amayia knew she was cold, knew she was calculating. She was told over and over again she was what a Jedi ought to be. Emotions did not cloud her judgement, and that was the Jedi way. 

But the Jedi way was also to bring peace, and Talia’s smile brought a waterfall of calm washing over Amayia. Was that not also what the Jedi stood for? Bringing comfort and peace to otherwise death-torn, darkened worlds that were tainted by the Dark Side, tainted by slaughter and destruction? Questions swirled in her mind, but what stood as bright as the stars from the gloomy sea, was Talia’s eyes. So bright and vivid, bursting with life, with kindness. The warmth of before came rushing stronger to her cheeks. 

Talia bowed her head. “I should let you get back to your walk.” She drank her coffee, the pink on her cheeks a bright scarlet now, rushing over her features like a fire-burning cloud. “See you tomorrow, for our walk that is.” 

Smiling back at her, Amayia also bowed. “Thank you for the drink, Talia. I will see you tomorrow, for the walk and the mission. It is an honor to be paired with you.”

A little chuckle came from the other Padawan as she scrubbed the back of her neck. “The honor is all mine, Amayia. And the hot chocolate was nothing. Everyone loves hot chocolate, right?” Her laughter grew a bit more, the fire on her face deepening. “But, yeah...It was good to finally meet you!” She stared for a moment, mouth open as if she wanted to say more. “Right, bed. Walking. Um. Well, goodnight!”

The flapping of her cloak filled the air as Talia rushed back toward the entrance way. Amayia’s stare followed the woman’s departing form, the cloak shivering over her broad back, as if straining as the woman walked back a bit hunched over. 

It was only until she departed to her quarters did Amayia realize that her smile never did leave her face. 

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia/Amayia

Thank you for the ask.

-

Talia is probably the only one who could ever consistently get Amayia to smile.

Some do get a faint shadow of one, but Talia's mere presence lifts Amayia out of her shyness.

Amayia constantly is seen holding her hands or stroking Talia's back, staring fondly as Talia goes on about something.

Even if its a mundane thing, Amayia adores listening to Talia.

Talia's shirts do go missing a lot of the while, and she has the biggest smile on a person's face when she sees Amayia in hers. And the heaviest blush.

Amayia finds she especially enjoys Talia's blush.

Talia gets back for breaking her brain by lifting Amayia up and carrying her to bed.

Amayia just gets very red and hides her face into Talia's neck, enjoying Talia's show of strength and how warm she is.

They both have matching braids that they do every morning after their bathing.

[noeldressari]

Talia reacting to Amayia in her sweatshirt

Talia would be giving her the warmest smile, comforted by the thought of her keeping warm even indirectly, and even more comforted knowing that if she gets her sweatshirt back later it will smell like her. She'd gladly go about the day without her sweatshirt to keep her warm. Amayia just looks so cute in it and Talia just loves the idea of being able to protect her from the cold.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia, looking down at her boots and shuffling awkwardly: "H-hello Amayia... I uhh... I saw these flowers and they uhhh.... they made me think of you because... because you know you... youre pretty too... like the flowers, you know, theyre... theyre pretty. I mean youre pretty and I- the flowers, theyre pretty, youre pretty... just... here..." *she looks down and just raises out her hand with the flowers*

Talia's endearing awkwardness would be one of the few times someone would ever catch a giggle from Amayia Esmaria Trevelyan, and a heavy blush. With fingers stroking Talia's hair, she'll lay a kiss, soft and delicate, almost a brush, on her lips and murmur a soft, "Thank you, my Knight." Afterward, she'll stroke the petals softly in her bedchambers, a faint smile on her lips and fondness in her eyes. She'll keep the flowers embroiled in her hair for days after, as well, and would often drag Talia away to give her kisses as her many thanks.

[herald-divine-hell]

ultra sinfulness incoming: Talia lying in bed with Amayia, absentmindedly playing with her hands and occasionally bringing them to her lips to kiss her palms and each fingertip.

Such sin. Getting Andraste on the phone right now. It's OVER, Noel. OVER. Tsk, tsk.

Seriously, though. Amayia's cheeks are very red from Talia's actions, and she'll draw Talia's own hands up to her lips to leave kisses as well. Though, she might ask softly for one of her hands, so she can stroke her hair and gently sing to her.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia holds Amayia close, running her fingers through her hair and her other hand slowly running up and down her back, murmuring soft reassurances between kisses across her face, say that she does enough to give back everyday just being her and loving her the way she does.

Amayia might jump in her arms at that point, drawing Talia's lips to hers, murmuring how she is the stars in her night, while stroking her fingers through her long hair. Afterward, Amayia makes them both matching necklaces, with a gem winking with the beat of their hearts.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia cupping Amayia's face in her hands and murmuring that she can hold the whole world in her hands.

Amayia's cheeks would flush red, and her hands will grasp fistfuls of her shirt and shyly pressed her face into her neck or chest, mumbling how good she is to her, and how she wants to give back.

[herald-divine-hell]

odyssey au Talia/Amayia?

She was a woman from the eastern lands, with her tanned skin, almond-shaped large silver eyes, gleaming with slivers of gold from sprinkling sunlight, a gently curved nose. Wind shivered a thin sheet of pale silver and clear cloak, a white linen dress clinging to her figure…revealing curves that could not help by draw Talia’s gaze.

“You will take me there.” It was not an request. It was a command. A command come from a rolling, husky, and clear voice—not the chime of bells, but the rolling of storm clouds, powerful and commanding.

Talia blushed and nodded, her finger stroking the hilt of her blade hanging on her hip. At the corner of her eye, she could see Barnabas grinned, for the first time silent. “Yes, your highness.”

And for a moment, Talia could had sworn those full lips were pulled into a secretive smile. “Good,” she murmured, before marching with a soldiers’ step to her ship. Talia had to shake her head when she realized she was staring at those swaying hips, and murmured to Athena to guide her, and protected her.

[herald-divine-hell]

star wars au Talia/Amayia?

When they fought side-by-side, it was a dance; every movement, every pull and push by the Force, in synchronization.

Talia dipped down to her knees, slashing across a droid’s knees, a flash of white and a lingering orange-silver, before it clasped in a heat. Amayia stroke her lightsaber down, purple catching a scarlet dash that has been aiming at Talia’s head. They spun around, Talia’s blue lightsaber jamming into the silver rounded-chest of a super battle droid; Amayia’s cut off the head of a pleading battle droid, spinning in a whirl, the body running like a headless chicken before falling into a heap.

They danced and they cut and they killed, air whistling with gusts of Force and the sizzle of lightsabers dashing, snapping, and breaking. A deadly dance they both performed, one cold and precise, the other rushing and blaring hot.