Kir felt more beautiful than she had in a long, long time. She felt comfortable in traditional X’hondrain clothing. It felt right, like that belonged on her her. She had missed the finely woven cloth that made la’at move like waves over the body, the way the weighted hem provided just the right drape to obscure the body beneath despite the thin layers of nearly-sheer fabric. She missed the heavy, hard wearing everyday garments decorated with fur and beads and embroidery and woven trims - the shades of blue and silver and white that made up the core of X’hondrian colourways. And, perhaps, she was just vain enough to bask in Zev and Harrison’s fawning. She didn’t quite feel wholly herself again - in truth, she wasn’t sure who that was now - but she could feel herself on that path of discovery, taking small steps toward a new understanding of herself in the wake of all she’d experienced. 

She was a little surprised at Harrison’s suggestion of a dance, but she wasn’t going to turn down the offer. When was the last time she’d danced as a pair? It must have been before the invasion with-

Clenching a fist into the fabric of the dress, Kir willed the thought away. She nodded to Harrison, keeping her smile warm and happy, “I would love that.” 

The crowds around them swirled and swelled with excitement - everyone loved a good party, and what better reason to celebrate than the liberation of another X’hondrian? The sudden reconnection with her culture and her home almost made Kir want to stay, to settle and never leave, to just forget the rest of the galaxy and grab ahold of the peace that existed there. 

Almost. 

Seeing her people also fanned the flame of determination in her chest. They deserved more than this. The drums they beat sounded foreign to her ears, the instruments to warm and woody. Where were the flutes made of Garrok bone? The drums made of hide stretched over metal with their tinny thump? The resonance of Ka’ara ribs strung with gut string perfectly bowed in time with the beat? The Dvergr instruments could play the songs of the X’hondrians, but they sounded [I]wrong[/I]. It was’t bad, per se, it was just not right. It was different. It lacked the right tone to express the depth and emotion of traditional X’hondrian music. It did spur a curiosity to hear Dvergr music as it was likely better suited to the instruments, but what it truly did was remind her that [I]someone[/I] had to liberate all of X’hondria and restore her people to their rightful home world. 

As if hearing her thoughts, one of the elders stepped up above the crowd at the centre of the plaza and raised his hand in a gesture that beckoned silence. The X’hondrian’s fell quiet in respectful obedience and whole area became hushed.

“Friends, neighbours, liberators,” he started, voice loud and resonant, “The freedom of each and every X’hondrian here is worth celebrating. We are ever grateful for the hospitality and protection the Dvergr have provided, but these things are not why we celebrate today. Today, a daughter of Ka’illit is returned to us!” A cheer went up in the crowd of X’hondrians. 

While not every family line stemmed from a member of the Venerated, those who did were granted a sort of respect that was unique. However, with that status came a level of responsibility and expectation that others didn’t carry. Perhaps it was her family legacy that pushed her to take on the empire herself, or perhaps that was just who she was, but either way Kir intended to follow through with it or die trying. 

“Rise, Kir a Ka’illit, and be honoured as the first free child of our Venerated forebears,” he called out. Kir took her cue to levitate just high enough for her shoulders to rise above the rest of the crowd, and the people parted to allow her a clear path to the centre. When she joined the elders, the speaker took her face in his hands and bowed her head to press their foreheads together. “Welcome home, child.”

Kir blinked back teary eyes as they stood together, waving to the crowd as they cheered excitedly. 

“Let us honour the Light Bearer of Hope!” The elder called out, and the beat of a new song filled the cavern. It told the somewhat mythologised story of X’hondrian origins and the Venerated Light Bearer, Ka’illit, from whom Kir was descended. 

Instead of returning to Harrison, she stepped down amongst the dancers to join them while reaching out for him mentally, [I]”Come join me!”[/I]

This was a dance she knew well - nothing could wipe the way it was ingrained in muscle memory. It was one of the first she learned as a child, and although she performed it rather clumsily in her youth, decades of practice had given her time to perfect the light step. Normally, these dances were performed over a shallow pool of water, and the aim was to step so lightly you didn’t disturb the water, but without that it was more about not disturbing that filled the cracks and crevices of the stone streets. As she waited for Harrison to join her, she performed solo, her arms moving with the grace of water as she swayed gently into a spin that made her la’at fan out in a circle around her calves to expose her decorated ankles. It was bliss to dance again of her own volition - not as a slave performing, but as a free woman choosing her own path forward.