2012/01/03
The Old Republic
Hi to everyone coming in from SWTOR. I noticed recently that someone referred to me as Dathora/Sy’kirra and that this blog was by one of them. I am neither of those players and not all of the fanon (though good gracious most) was written by them. I hope you find the pages helpful and I will attempt to update this blog as I am now actively involved in twi’lek RP once again.
Have fun and don’t be afraid to create your own fanon. 
2010/04/21
Content + Fanon
I have chosen to go with efficiency instead of posting page after page after page of fanon for each topic. Instead I have posted the basics and left room for interpretation. If someone wishes to delve further into the original author’s idea they may do so here.
That is the site in which most if not all fanon is based. We each take a little and grow our own, there is no “my way or the highway” with fanon. Have fun and again I hope this collection helps.
Lily
2010/04/10
Kah’lehalle!
Welcome to my Twi’lek lore collection! This blog is dedicated to compiling official and fan accepted Star Wars lore pertaining to the lovely and curious race of aliens known as Twi’leks.
I chose to create this blog because of the instability of many Twi’lek dedicated web pages. It frustrated me to no end to find a good source for role play, use it a couple of times and then go back to find it missing. So, I c/p what I found relevant, compiled a folder of lore and decided to make it available to others. This means that, unless otherwise noted I am not the author of this collection. I will do my best to cite references and invite others to bring it to my attention when I have not done so.
One Mother, One Breath, One Spirit,
Lily
The Lesson
by: LilyLekku
A scanty tent rests upon the desert sands of Tattooine ready to be packed up at any moment’s given notice. Against the arid breeze the entry cloth flaps open and closed, beckoning the owner of a DL-44 blaster and a pair of jingling buckled boots to enter. He approaches the structure, ready to peek in his head.
Waiting inside, a Kiva waits knowing her pupil will soon arrive. A sheer white veil covers the lower portion of her face and another wraps around her freckled lekku. Today she wears the golden charms of the temple, annointing herself with the blessings of Kika’lekki.
She greets him at the door, offering a welcoming hand and takes his into hers with a single question, “Do you appreciate the fullness of life?” Her guest hesitates, but before he can offer an answer she stops him at the opening of her tent.
Her knees bend and with a graceful dip of her spine, she lowers to the balls of her feet. She is facing him, her chin up so that her eyes can see the nervous furrow of his brow. To reassure him, she places a calm hand to the inside of his thigh, while the other unfastens the buckles of his leather boots. “It is not my intent to seduce you, nerra.”
Her eyes leave his face so that he may hide the shame warming his cheeks and the back of his ears. It is not necessary for him to apologise for his thoughts, but his boots must be removed before entering the sacred shrine she has prepared today.
A smile forms when she sees the yellowing socks he hid inside them and when she spies the hole over his big toe, she stifles a laugh.
“I…,” he clears his throat, unsure of what to say and quickly removes them before her fingers can touch the soiled cloth. He shrugs ackwardly and tosses the rolled up socks behind him, but it is no matter because she is already placing a metal basin of water on her lap.
She takes his right foot into her palm and pours water over it from her free hand. As the water runs down the forefront of his foot and between his toes, his lesson begins.
“In the time before it is written, the Mother of all mothers, gave birth. Her child would be the suns, the moons, and the stars… and even the planets. Of all things of this galaxy, they are hers and it was her Breath that gave them life.”
“Kika’lekki?”
Her hands pause and again she smiles to him from beneath her veil.
“Yes, Kika’lekki,” she resumes the ceremonial cleansing, sliding her palm along the arch of his foot.
“It is said that when she came upon our ancestral lands, she wept for the parched earth. Those tears hit the dry sand and ran like rivers quenching the thirst of Ryloth. In their path the lush gardens of Paradise grew until each came to a great lake and of them, our people were born. Five life sustaining lakes, five clans of Ryloth.”
At the end of her words, she lowered his foot having cleansed and anointed them with blessed oil. She rocks onto her legs, so that may she scoot into the tent behind them and hold open the entry.
The gold bangles around her wrist shimmer in the desert sun until he enters and she closes the tent around him. His eyes see nothing in the darkness, but hers see perfectly having navigated the caves of their people for many years.
She strikes a match, lighting the wick of a long thin candle. The flame reveals her face to him once more and the unlit candle she now passes to him. Together they light the wick and some of her wax drips onto his hand causing him to flinch. She does not pause to acknowledge his pain, but she tenderly places her free hand onto his.
“Of those five clans, each praised the Mother in their own way.”
Through the glow of the candlelight, her calm eyes admire the orange hues of his skin, “If you were a native son of Ryloth, it is said that your clan would honor her through rituals of fire.”
“And then the others, who envoke her through the passage of song or dance, or through water,” she smiles, sensing his mind turn over each new piece of mythos. Before continuing she softly chuckles, “and the others who find meaning in building great monuments and altars, like the temples of Ryloth.”
Accustomed now to the warm darkness surrounding them, his eyes look around the tent seeing a small brass shrine and a number of stone idols.
Feeling his question before he asks, she answers, “I feel closest to the Mother through prayer. My mother’s ancestors practiced spirtual devotion above all else. But this is all a lesson for another day. Please sit.”
With his hand in hers once more, she lowers them both to sit in front the shrine. A stone carving of a celestial female twi’lek faces them. The belly is fat with life and ornate beads placed by the kiva hang from its limbs.
She places her candle to the left of the statue and instructs him to do the same, but to the right. With her encouragement together they bow their heads and she begins to pray in Ryl.
“We worship the Mother of the lekki, the one whose Breath is sweet and nourishing. We pray that she deliver us from Death so that our hearts do not stray to the darkness. Bring balance to our lives, bring balance to our lives.”
She lifts her head, opening her eyes upon the shrine to look upon the idol of Kika’lekki with adoration.
“So in the days of Paradise each of the five clans honored the great Mother and lived lives of fullness and joy, living in balance with all that was and would be. This was before the time of war and before the time of Death.”
“When the time of Death came to be, the clans fought and no longer did they spend their days honoring Kika’lekki. Paradise was lost and our ancestor’s lands grew brittle and dry once more.”
“Our people took to the darkness to hide from the ever burning light, walking away from the old ways. This broke the great Mother’s heart and again she wept, but her tears did not bring life.”
A pain grew within the heart of the Kiva and on her cheeks, sorrow from the lesson ran down in tears. She turns to face her pupil and on his face she sees the quiet struggle of understanding. To ease the burden of his new knowledge she raises to her knees and leans up, placing a motherly kiss to his forehead.
“Kika’lekki knows that our people will return to Paradise and in time we will restore the balance to our lives. No longer will we seek death, but appreciate the fullness of Life.”
