For the fluff non-verbal starters: Tucking them into bed. For Sanna and Theron 😊
(This is set sometime after Confession, but before they start wrapping up their journey.)
Theron ran the towel over his damp hair one last time, then stretched. The baths at this inn were extravagant and luxurious, especially in contrast to the past week spent sleeping rough on the side of the road.
Worth every coin it had cost—and then some—if you asked him. This was by far the nicest place he had stayed in quite some time.
A soft snore greeted him as he left the bathroom: Vassanna was asleep already? The bed stood untouched, and he turned to find her on the small sofa before the fireplace. She sat reclined, her head tipped back and her long, freshly-washed hair hanging down the back of the couch to dry. Her book had fallen to the floor, her place in the story lost.
A frown crossed his features: she’d been exhausted the past few nights, near impossible to wake for her watch, and groggy in the afternoons.
Something was wrong.
He didn’t think she was injured and, based on the precautions they both took, there was no way she could be with child. A trill of fear shot through him at the thought: the last thing anyone needed right now was a little princeling—or a princess—crawling around in a year.
An image, vague and shimmery, of a little girl toddling towards him with eyes like her mother filled his vision before he batted it away, focusing on his concern for the very real woman before him.
Theron sat gingerly beside her, noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Normally, he requested permission before inspecting someone with his feeble Healing magics, but concern outweighed propriety.
Reaching out, he held his hand above her heart and, after a moment’s hesitation, focused; he “read” her muscles, bones, and ligaments, searching for anything that didn’t belong. Hmm… only a bruise or two, no big internal injuries—and thank the stars for that, because he wouldn’t be able to mend those—and strained muscles from the journey. He found no physical reason she should be this tired.
Magic, then? It had to be.
A stray lock of hair brushed across her face as she breathed; it must have tickled, as her features twitched even in slumber. His fingers moved of their own accord, tenderly sweeping the hair to the side and tucking it behind her ear.
With a sigh, he shifted and slipped his arms beneath her, scooping her up; the bed would be far more comfortable for her than this sofa. Vassanna woke with a start as he stood, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Was I asleep?” she mumbled, confusion written on her features. “‘time is it?”
“It’s time for you to go to bed,” he answered. “The actual time doesn’t matter.”
“But dinner—”
“You can have dinner here,” he said as he laid her on the bed. “I’ll wake you when it arrives.”
“Theron, I’m fine, I only—”
Irritation spiked as she tried to deny something that anyone with eyes could see.
“You’re exhausted,” he snapped, “but I can’t quite figure out why. I’m assuming magic, but for some reason, you’re just not telling me.”
She had the grace to look sheepish as he pulled the covers up to her shoulders, slightly rougher than he should have.
“It is magic,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
Theron’s gut twisted: he had been an ass, insisting that she be honest with him, even though he’d examined her without permission. Why didn’t he trust her to tell him if she was hurt or not? She was an adult, as well as a frighteningly competent bodyguard.
You are worried about her, some little voice in the back of his head whispered. You’re afraid you’ll lose her.
Ignoring that stupid voice that didn’t know at all what it was talking about, he sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey,” he said softly, all frustration and concern melting away as he cupped her cheek in his palm, “we can talk later—if you want.” He offered a small smile as a peace offering as he placed his other hand on her forehead. “Now rest.” Pulling from his shallow store of magic, he gently nudged her into a deep, peaceful slumber.
Theron sat there for a long moment after her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out, his hands still cradling her face. He told himself it was to ensure that Vassanna stayed asleep, but if he were honest, he simply didn't want to let go.
He brushed his thumb along her cheek and the tattoos embossed on her skin. The urge to press his lips to those diamond-shaped marks seized him so strongly that he almost gave in before catching himself at the last moment. What was wrong with him?
Standing abruptly, he stalked to the fireplace to pace. The ghost of Vassanna’s body, soft and warm in his arms, haunted him, and the heat that rushed to his face and ears rivaled that of the fire before him.
———
Hours later—long after the sun had set and the fire died down—their bags lay packed by the door, ready to leave at a moment’s notice should the need arise. Vassanna had slept through it all, waking only for dinner and a short explanation. Theron mulled over her words while he prepared for bed.
We’re trained in whatever aspect of magic comes naturally to us, so we try out many different things as children. My mother’s a Healer, but all my healing tonics made my classmates ill. She had chuckled ruefully. My training was focused on combat after that.
My sister, she’s a ghost—she can disappear into the shade of a tree and no one would ever see her again if she didn’t wish it. She bends the light, somehow. I don’t understand, but it’s impressive.
I can’t hide within the light like her, but I can make myself look… Vassanna had trailed off, a thoughtful look on her features. Inconspicuous, unassuming. I’m still there in plain sight, but it’s almost as though people overlook the fact that I’m there.
A yawn had interrupted her explanation. It’s not as natural for me as combat magic, so while I can do it, it’s exhausting. Moreso if I’m trying to keep more than just myself concealed. But seeing as we’re too close to Korriban Hold for my liking, it’s been necessary to keep us safe from notice—or capture.
Back in the present, Theron stretched and yawned. Climbing gently into the bed so as to not disturb her rest, he chuckled at the loud snore from his bed partner.
Vassanna mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, facing him. The covers tangled around her waist and she shivered at their loss, goosebumps skittering across the bare skin of her arm.
With a soft grin, he pulled her side of the covers up, tucking her in, and was nearly lost when she sighed contentedly in her sleep, shifting closer to him. He gently swept the tangled hair from her face, smoothing it back and behind her ear as she did whenever it was loose.
Resting his hand lightly along her jaw, Theron inspected his bodyguard, lover, and—dare he say—his friend. She looked so calm, so peaceful in sleep; carefree, almost. That she would quietly sacrifice so much of herself touched him, twisting something in his chest and making it hard to breathe.
The need to hold her close threatened to overwhelm him. He resisted, however, content to brush his thumb against her cheek instead.
“Sweet dreams, Vassanna,” he murmured.
Fluff prompts
24 notes
·
View notes