#My Oc: Tayva

[confettininjabean]

Prompt - dust motes

Yay! Thank you for the prompt! 

I was trying to think of something for Jaydzia and Theron but the toons who spoke up happened to be my Sith Pureblood Bounty Hunter, Tayva and Torian. 

So here’s a little microstory for Tayva and Torian. Hope you enjoy it!

The moon light spilled in through the window, draping across the bed and the red-skinned woman in it like a soft, sheer luminescent blanket. Leaning up on his elbow, Torian watched the dust motes swirl in lazy motions through the prism of soft light for a moment before his gaze dropped back down onto the sleeping form of Tayva. The Sith Pureblood slept soundly on her side, curled up into a ball under the comforter. One arm was wrapped up under the pillow supporting her head, the other was draped lazily along her side, revealing a ragged scar that wrapped around her bicep. His gaze moved to her face. It was peaceful, her pale colored eyes were closed, her dark hair free of it’s usual bun and splayed across their pillows like an silken ebony ocean. She was beautiful.And she was his.For the majority of his life, Torian had rarely entertained the idea of finding someone like her, someone he wanted to pursue, to wake up to every morning, to hunt with for honor and glory. It had occurred to him on occasion but he’d been on a life long mission to bring honor back to his Clan after his father was disgraced. He couldn’t allow such dishonor to tarnish the woman he would love.  Then she walked into his life, Mandalore’s Champion. He’d been there when she’d been named Champion of the Great Hunt, he’d been surprised to find a Sith Pureblood in the profession of a Bounty hunter. Some time later, she’d approached the Mandalorian camp he’d been with seeking to complete a task for Mandalore himself. Cool, calm, collected and yet her pale colored eyes had been kind. A soft chuckle escaped him when he remembered their next encounter on Taris, the way he had taunted her about getting the drop on him too easily, the way heat raced through him when she had turned the tables, knocking him flat on his back, proving that he had not, in-fact, had the drop on her. Then she went and helped him claim back the honor his father, Jincoln, had torn away from his clan. His eyes traced over the scar at her right shoulder, a wound his own father had dealt her. Everything they’d been through so far, she met it all with a steely determination, stubbornness and an indomitable will that took his breath away but what really had him enamored was her courage in the face of fear, her honor despite her past and her passion.The dust motes swirled above her as he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. She stirred slightly under his touch and he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her curves. She was a beautiful warrior.And she was his.