Okay, guys - this is really for Licia, hopefully so she can comment and give helpful things like feedback on various bits of plot, but also for anyone else who cares to read. Be warned: it does get esoteric, and quickly. Quenya translations are at the bottom.
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The ship looked much as it had nine years ago. Curving bulkheads draped with tapestries gave way to meandering corridors and snug quarters. Golden Caamasi strolled by, nodding to the two men as they passed. Occasionally, one would raise a hand in greeting, recognizing the warrior from his stay on their ship. He smiled; there were fond memories here, with this gentle folk.
To his side, his employer forced a smile - the ship full of pacifists made him uneasy. As the leader of one side of an intergalactic conflict, he was aware of the fact that they disapproved of his presence. None would mention it and violate the manners with which they held themselves, but those who mastered the Force didn’t need words or actions to know. Despite the nonthreatening demeanor, Lord Vader was still on edge.
The bodyguard-turned-special-agent smirked.
The Grim had nothing against the man, of course. Vader still had much of Anakin about him. Even after his failure to protect Padme, he had remained a friend - possibly, he thought with a wry twist, because Yoda himself couldn’t defeat Sidious, so what could he expect from me? Given Vader’s rather emotion-charged existence, he was grateful for the logic - but nothing would remove the Grim’s amusement when the Sith’s reactions were wildly off-target, or when he was not in control of the situation and showed it, like now.
Vader shot a Look at him, quite obviously having sensed his amusement, and, just as obviously, failing to share in it. The Look clearly communicated that Sirius was to cease his enjoyment of his lord’s discomfort on pain of - well, pain, so of course the Grim’s smirk turned into a low chuckle. In response, the Look turned into the Scowl.
“Are you quite certain that you are not lost?” Vader’s tone was mild. The Grim was not deceived.
“Wellll... It has been a long time since I was here...”
“Sirius...”
“I might not remember the exact way...”
“You,” the Sith pronounced in a flat tone, “are a liar.”
“Me? Never.”
“Do not try to fool me,” he warned.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Vader chose not to respond to that one - wisely, in the Grim’s opinion. Instead, he glared before facing forward once more. Opportunity for teasing gone, he returned his attention to locating the correct set of quarters. Small as it was, there had been a grain of truth in his prevaricating. He wasn’t entirely certain that he’d ever visited that particular area, and this, while not as large as an SSD or even an SD, was by no means a small ship. Still, he had no doubt he’d find it. Eventually. And if he cheated along the way...
Placing his wand on his palm, he murmured, “Point me.” It spun. The next intersection he came to, he turned left, then left again. Vader watched with mild interest; he’d seen this before.
Stopping in front of a nondescript door, he shot a glance at the Sith. Lord Vader currently appeared to be either daydreaming or focusing on something in the distance. The Grim didn’t need words to know that this visit promised to be interesting - but then, he grinned, the more interesting, the better. With that thought in mind, he rapped gently.
A few moments later, the door opened, and a slender Caamasi female smiled at him.
“Sirius. It’s good to see you again.” She nodded to the man standing next to him. “Lord Vader.”
“You as well, Releqy. I understand that you have another pupil?”
“Perhaps, if you have no claim to her.”
“Mm. We’ll see.”
“Indeed,” she nodded. “Come in.”
Stepping in, the Grim wondered who it would be. A woman - perhaps Tonks had tripped herself through, or Hermione out of curiosity. He couldn’t think of any others that might; though, he reminded himself, it has been nine years. And then, peeking around the low couch, he saw the girl. She couldn’t have been more than three years old, and she wasn’t like any human he’d ever seen.
White-blond wisps trailed past her shoulder blades, and green eyes peered out in curiosity. Her tanned skin contrasted oddly against her fairer hair. And she was tiny - if she weighed any more than two stone he’d be surprised. Part Veela, perhaps?
He exhaled. Well. He supposed she could still be the child of a friend - many things could happen in almost a decade - but he didn’t recognise any distinctive features that belonged to someone he’d known. Still -
Crouching to be on an equal level with her, he smiled. The child smiled back - good. “Hi,” he greeted in English.
For a minute, she seemed to be debating whether or not to talk to him. Then, “Hello.”
Score! “My name is Sirius,” he told her, still smiling and trying to appear non-threatening. “What’s yours?
“Poldë.” She edged a foot around the couch.
“Poldë, huh? That’s a very pretty name for a very pretty little girl. Does your Mama ever tell you that?”
“Yes.” She drifted a bit further out so she could see him better. The sleeveless dress and cloak she was wearing looked almost wizard-made, but the materials had to be of high-quality, and the tailoring was flawless. The cloak faded in and out, shimmering silver, sepia, and green. If she belonged to a wizarding family, it was obviously one on the high end of the spectrum; but most of those wouldn’t touch dirty blood, let alone different species, and he still had the feeling that she wasn’t quite human.
“Good, she should. Hey, can I introduce you to my friend right here?”
He gave her a second to think that over, and was rewarded with a hesitant, “Yess..”
“Great! Poldë, this is Lord Vader.” Checking with exaggerated caution to both sides, he motioned her forwards. When she slowly came, he leaned forward and whispered, “But you can call him V for short.”
That coaxed a smile out of her. “Father says I should always call people I don’t know by right names.”
“Really? Well, what’s your Mama say?”
She toed the carpet. “She says Father’s strict and needs to relax.”
He laughed. “Sounds like some people I might know. Do you know your Mama and Papa’s names, Poldë?”
When she nodded, he grinned. “Really? That’s good! Can you tell me?” He gave her the puppy-dog face. “Pretty please?”
This time, she nodded without hesitating, though from the way Vader shifted he guessed it was because there were no strictures around the act instead of the Grim’s skills with children.
“Mother’s name is Carnildë and Father’s name is Cirisson.”
Well. That tore it, well enough. He’d never heard names even remotely similar in the Wizarding World. At a loss, he remarked, “Well, I don’t think I’ve heard those names before. Can you tell me what they do?”
“Mother sews and cooks and teases Father and Father hunts and feeds me and tells me stories.”
An opening! “What kind of stories does he tell you?”
She blinked, apparently unsure as to whether this was on the do-not-tell list or not. “Aaa...”
Something about her vocalisations was needling him. They were off, just the slightest bit, as if her reflexive vocal hesitation was picked up elsewhere than two English-speaking parents. He eyed her critically - she was young, but if she’d been raised around two languages, that could explain it, as well as the uncharacteristic ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’ And it might give a clue as to her origin, as well. A few strands of hair fell into her face, and she pushed them back, revealing a decidedly pointed ear - not Veela, then.
She was still pondering his earlier question, so he asked a different one. “Do you speak any languages beside English, Poldë?”
A nod.
“That’s cool! Which ones?”
“Quenya, and a little bit of Latin and Sindarin.” She looked at him through her eyelashes. “The Latin’s ugly, though.” Pausing for just a moment, she asked innocently, “Why’s it cold?”
The Grim grinned. “Not cold, cool. It means neat, or good, or interesting.”
“A.” The child folded herself into a cross-legged position and looked up. “When can I go back? I’m hungry. I want Father.”
Sindarin? Quenya? He’d never heard of those before. Where his first guess might’ve been veela, it had changed. Veela weren’t that delicate or tiny - and what on earth was she talking about? Caamasi would never starve a child. They certainly hadn’t starved him. And their food was strange, yes, but not bad.
“Don’t the Caamasi give you food?”
“Yes...”
“Then why are you hungry?”
“Because they don’t feed me.”
He blinked. What kind of logic...?
“Does the food taste bad?”
“No, it’s good.”
“Do you eat it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you hungry?” he repeated himself. The Grim had a feeling that he was missing something important.
“Because Father’s not here,” she said, and he dropped the topic. He was getting nowhere with that - and Vader was getting amused, he could tell. The little girl stared at him, seeming to consider something. After a few moments, she asked, “What’s your name?
Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at the Sith. “I told you, remember? Sirius, my name is Sirius.”
“But what’s your father-name?” she persisted. “Father said that people who speak English have father-names.”
Father-name...? Oh! Surname, of course. “Black,” he answered. “I am Sirius Black.”
Her face twisted into a scowl almost faster than he could blink, and the Sith next to him shifted, obviously picking up on something. the Grim heard in his mind. The problem was, Sirius had not a clue. He’d never seen her before, and never heard of her parents.
Tentatively, he queried, “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t like you!” Poldë stood and backed away. “I don’t like you!”
“Why not?” He was out of his league here.
“You were mean to my Father. You’re a git and a prat and yrchion.” Was it just him, or was the low table in the corner rattling?
“...I don’t know your father, but I’m very sorry if I was ever mean to him,” he tried. Stealing a glance at Vader was not reassuring; the man had a decidedly evil smirk on his face. The Grim glared at him.
The child stomped a very tiny foot. “No you’re not! Otherwise you would have been nicer!” He opened his mouth to say something... and the girl ran up, kicked him as hard as she could in the shins, and then darted back behind the couch. Her voice was muffled behind it. “Go away, Sirius Black! I want Tata!” Abruptly, the table toppled.
Releqy appeared rather suddenly. “She sounds agitated, Sirius, what did you say to her?”
Bewildered, he switched back to Basic. “I don’t know. She blew up as soon as she heard my full name.
The Caamasi girl merely looked at him. “She is not old enough to know you personally. Do you know her parents?”
“No - I don’t even think she’s human.” He sighed - he hated enigmas.
Vader broke in. “I believe it would be wise for you to leave, now. I doubt she will speak with you again in the near future.”
“And will you remain with her, Lord Vader?” Releqy did not appear terribly pleased with the proposal.
“You have my word that I will not harm the child, lady,” he replied courteously. “I am merely curious as to her origins.”
“You do not speak her tongue,” she challenged, and Vader raised an eyebrow.
“I wield the Force, Caamasi.” The implication was impossible to miss, and she conceded.
“Very well.” She left the room slowly, almost unwillingly, while the Grim glared at his employer.
“I don’t like this,” he stated simply.
“I know.”
Turning, Sirius left the room. A smirk blossomed on his face - Vader would now have to find his own way to his quarters, unless he could coax Releqy away from her duties. And, judging by how dear Caamasi held children, that was not likely to happen.
***
The Sith waited as Sirius’ mind traveled further away, checking absently on the Caamasi girl as well. She was not listening, though shouting or more screaming would probably bring her running. Just as well; only three people, including himself, were aware that he spoke English, and he preferred to keep it that way for the time being.
The child was adorable, though the Grim was right when he said she was not quite human. Truth be known, there was no human blood in her veins at all. He didn’t know her species - but she was intelligent and, he suspected, very other than what the Grim thought. And quite capable of holding a grudge in stead of her missing parents, it seemed. Still, the child hadn’t immediately linked him in her mind with her hatred for Sirius, so he was hopeful. This youngling needed training, according to what he had heard, and he wouldn’t mind a child following the Grim about his fleet. True, she was young; but then, had Padme lived, his children would have been this age as well.
“Poldë,” he called now in English, wrapping a hint of Force about her mind to soothe her. “Poldë, you have won: Sirius is gone.” Slowly he moved nearer her refuge. “Come out now, little one; I would like to speak to you.” He sensed her response to the term - Little One, telellë, Tata! - and spoke again. “Come, telellë? He is truly gone.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” and he wove a tendril of trustworthiness in his words. He could feel her wavering; he could afford to be patient. Sure enough, her face poked out a few seconds later, scanning the room as only a small child could, passing over his standing figure.
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. You scared him away with your fierceness.”
A smile crossed her face. “Father taught me how to fight. Mother helped a little.”
“They did a very fine job,” he assured with a straight face. “Do you mind if I sit down, little one?”
Predictably, she swelled with pride at being addressed as an adult and waved a falsely nonchalant hand at the sofa. “Of course not... a...” Her face puckered with concentration. “What’s your name again?”
“Vader.”
“A! Of course not, Vader.” She pronounced the name carefully, as if afraid of tripping over it.
Conspicuously not looking at her, he seated himself on the couch and studied the hangings on the opposite wall. A minute later, a very small weight dipped the other end of the couch, and he looked down, feigning surprise at finding her there. She blinked up at him. “You have funny hair.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. It’s all curled-up. I’ve never seen someone with curled-up hair before.”
“Well, I’ve never seen such an intelligent little girl before, or one with pointed ears.”
“Really? Are you a human? I’ve never met a human before.”
The Sith nodded. “Yes, I am. Never? Are you sure? What about your parents?”
This time she giggled at him. “They’re not humans, silly!”
“No?” he asked, with exaggerated surprise.
“No!”
“Well, then, what are they, little one?”
“Mother’s Noldo, and Father’s yarsukhoth.”
“...Yarsukhoth?” That... was not a word he’d ever heard Sirius use.
“Yes. You know, a...” Her struggle to remember the word was quite clear on her face. “A vampire,” she pronounced at last.
He’d not heard that word, either. After he finished here, he would need to find the Grim and ask for an explanation. “That’s nice.”
“I think so. Mother does, too, because then when I fall down it heals faster, that’s what she says. I think it heals as fast as the other children, but she says it’s faster. I can see in the dark better than she can, too.”
Fascinating. “That’s always good. Do you fall down much?”
“No, except for that time I fell out of the talan -“ upon seeing his raised eyebrows she amended, “- our house - it’s in a tree. Anyways, I fell out and something in my arm cracked funny and I had to wear a strap around it for four days. That was when I was little. I’m a big girl now, so I don’t fall any more.”
His eyebrows climbed higher. “You don’t look very big to me.”
“Well, older then.” She pouted. “Besides, Mother says I’m just waiting for the right time to grow.”
“If you’re sure...” he mused with a straight face.
“I am!” she rebuked his doubt indignantly.
“Mm.” Making a show of looking her over, the Sith wove a bit more Force into his voice. He didn’t want her to be reminded of the erstwhile Sirius. “You look rather hungry. Has Releqy been feeding you?”
Surprisingly, the little girl shook her head, wispy hair whipping in an energetic halo. “No.”
That answer did not match up with his knowledge of Caamasi or the conversation with Sirius he’d listened to. “Have they been bringing you food?”
She nodded her head this time. “It’s odd. It tastes good, but it’s odd.”
What kind of riddle is this? As he asked his next question, he probed at the edge of her mind. “Why hasn’t she been feeding you?”
Puzzlement flitted across her thoughts and face. “Because she’s not Mother or Father or Grandfather or Grandmother or Aunt Mélë.”
“Is that all?”
“Father says never to feed from anyone who’s not him or Mother unless it’s an emer...”
“Emergency?” he supplied, and she nodded.
“If it’s an emergency, then I’m allowed to feed from Grandmother and Grandfather and Aunt Mélë. Otherwise I’m not supposed to.” Worrying at her bottom lip, she added, “But I’m really hungry. Is it an emergency yet?”
Feed from? The child is not Anzati. Aloud, he answered, “I do not know, but I believe so. What do your parents say?”
Tiny shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know, they’re not here.”
She might not sound it for her words, but the simplicity of the answer reminded him how very young she was, and, rather than ask circular questions, he delved into the memories at the front of her mind. A dark man with greasy hair and a forbidding face smiled at a woman who could only be Poldë’s mother and looked down. Hinya, he crooned, my daughter, my little one. Releqy appeared briefly with a flashing smile as a horde of some hideous alien flew past. The dark man cradled a child to his chest, and warmth seeped down a parched throat; a bead of crimson lingered on pale skin.
Somewhat unsettled, he drew back. Her mind was more fragmented than any he’d delved, and he could not guess why. Children were not known for ordered thoughts, but to this extent... Still, Vader had found what he’d been searching for.
“How often does your father usually feed you?”
Brow wrinkled in thought, she responded. “A... every next day? I think?”
He nodded. “How long has it been since you came here?
She frowned at him. “I don’t know. There’s no sun here. Only stars and pretty clouds.”
A sigh came from him; he would need to check with Releqy. “Did you feed before you came here?”
“I don’t think so...”
Wonderful. What else can... Ah - that could work. “Poldë,” the Sith told her, “I am going to find out how long you’ve been here. If it’s been longer than three days, then I believe it counts as an emergency.”
“But -“ The girl was becoming rather upset.
”I know. Your grandparents and uncle are not here.” Pausing, he continued, “Your father would want you to feed, little one, if he knew that you were this hungry. Believe me.”
“But who?” she wailed. “Father told me -“
Triumph glittering inside, Vader interrupted. “You may feed from me, hinya, it will be all right.” His tone was gentle, contrasting her wide eyes and almost panicked breathing. Stretching a hand out, he stroked her hair. The child froze for one brief moment before relaxing, and he gathered the limp form against his side. Excellent. “Everything will be all right.”
***
“Sirius,” the Sith enquired, “what exactly is an elf?”
“A house elf?”
“I do not know.”
“House elves are tiny, ugly, and live to serve wizards.”
“I see. Are there any other species?”
“...Not to my knowledge.”
“What is a vampire?”
The Grim looked at him with some surprise, and Lord Vader paused in his pacing. “What is it, Grim?”
“Where did you hear about elves and vampires?”
A smirk grew on his face as he continued. “Why, from dear little Poldë, of course. Where else?”
“Oh.” Sirius tilted his head. “Did she have contact with house elves and vampires?”
“Not house elves, but to my understanding her mother is a rather different sort of elf and her father a vampire. If I knew what the terms meant, I would be most appreciative.”
“...Oh. That explains the hunger.” He pondered for a minute or so on the implications of such a parentage and coming through the Veil, ignoring his increasingly irate employer. However, patience was not one of the Sith’s chief virtues.
“Grim. Explain. Now.”
For a moment, the Grim was strongly tempted to refuse - but only for a moment. Vader was a powerful man even without the Force. “I don’t know about any other sort of elf, but I do know some things about vampires. They typically look human, but they don’t particularly love sunlight. They don’t have fangs like most myths say, just sharp incisors, and their need for blood depends on their age. A child needs blood far more often than an adult, and can hit bloodlust if more than four days pass, depending on how young it is. For an adult, it can take up to two weeks. I’ve heard of some particularly strong-willed ones making it fifteen or sixteen days.
“If that little girl’s a vampire, she probably gets blood every other day, just because she’s so young. She got here three days ago, right?” he checked. Vader inclined his head, and he continued. “Right. So, she’s going to be fairly emotionally-unbalanced and off-kilter until she either hits bloodlust or gets some blood.” He paused, considering. “I’m not even sure that alien blood would work for her, because vampire blood is fairly close to human and I’m not sure whether Caamasi blood is even iron-based...”
“It is not. What is bloodlust, exactly?” His eyes were intent as he stopped pacing.
“Eh... Essentially she’ll go insane until she gets blood, and she’ll try to attack the first living being she sees. She’s too little to actually kill someone, but she could kill herself if she gets poisonous blood. Of course, she’ll die if she starves, too, which would be about a day, maybe two, after she hit.”
The Sith resumed his pacing again, black cloak fluttering behind him. Sirius’ eyes followed him back and forth.
“So, did you see her parents?” he asked a few minutes later. If the Sith hadn’t been in her mind at some point, he would be surprised.
“Yes,” came the slightly distracted answer. “One was an elf, as she knows it, a taller and older version of Poldë, very tall for a human female. Her father I would have called human if I did not know he was not; he had pale skin, rather greasy black hair, black eyes, and a hooked nose.” A spike of recognition and shock broke through his steps, and he turned, one eyebrow raised, to look at the Grim. “So,” he observed, “you do know her father.”
The man looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Seating himself in an armchair, he pierced his employee with blue eyes. “Do enlighten me, Grim.”
“Ah - basically we attended school together, the greasy git. He’s an evil bastard who hovers over his potions nonstop and can’t leave well enough alone.”
“Mm. I presume you bullied him?”
“He gave as good as he got!” he protested.
“Then how is it that his young daughter knows of you and hates you, though she must believe you are nine years dead?”
“...Maybe just a little,” was the grudging admission. Vader smirked.
“Of course.”
“What does it matter to you, anyway, if she hates me or not?”
Calmly, the Sith said, “She is magical -“
”No kidding, Sherlock, if she’s got a vampire father-“
”-not to mention that she is quite intelligent for her years, and I am going to take her with us when we leave.”
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Aaa - the equivalent to 'oh' or 'um'
yrchion - 'orc-spawn'
Tata - the diminutive affectionate form of 'father', aka 'Daddy'
yarsukhoth - vampire (note: if anyone wants to find me a better word for it, feel free - the Quenya here was rather vague.)
talan - a home made in a tree
hinya - my child
telellë - little one, little elf
Note - Vader doesn't really understand Quenya; he's just pulling the words from her mind and using them because they are more familiar to her.
