#sometimes Lana if they've both been drinking and feeling sappy

[rikki-roses]

Fluffy February Day 28: Shy

SWTOR

Pairing: Setra Rowan and Qyzen Fess: Bffs, hunting companions, basically your weird uncle and his feral niece

Time Period: Shortly after KOTFE chapter 9, Trandosha (Qyzen's recruitment mission)

Minor TW for religious discussion

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Breathe in, breathe out. Emotion, yet peace.

It was almost poetic. Qyzen had been Setra's first companion so many year before (Ten? Eleven? Setra had always been bad at math, and carbonite poisoning made it worse) on Tython.

And now, he was the first of Setra's companions that the Eternal Alliance had tracked down Post Carbonite.

Setra swallowed hard. Even though she'd been given Qyzen's rough coordinates on Trandosha, it had still taken her three days to actually track him.

So why was she suddenly so kriffing shy? She had no reason to be. She and Qyzen had been through everything, seen each other at their respective worst and best. Yes, because Arcann had captured her, Setra had lost her "Points" and been shamed in the eyes of the Scorekeeper, the Trandoshan goddess of the Hunt that Qyzen (and Setra, nominally) worshiped. But, the same thing had happened with Qyzen when they first started traveling together, and the pair had regained his honor; the same could be done for Setra.

But it had been five years, and Qyzen had returned to Trandosha to lead a tribe - something he'd once swore wouldn't happen, he was too solitary. Would he want to join Setra on Odessen? Would he care that she needed to regain her Points?

A twig snapped, and Setra's thoughts snapped back to reality as she twirled around, zhaboka at the ready; with her vertigo issues, she felt safer using her ancestral weapon over her dualsaber.

Only to find herself face-to-face with a young Trandoshan, just as surprised as she was.

"What is, a fleshling wanting to trespass? Too soft to hunt."

Setra snorted as she hung her zhaboka on her back. "Bold of you to assume I'm too soft to hunt, pup, especially with my blade and the Force. Now, I'm looking for an old friend - Qyzen Fess. I've been tracking his camp for the last three days, are you one of his companions?"

She guessed correctly; the youngling did a double take. Then he got a good look at Setra and her zhaboka. Then he put two and two together, blushing (as much as a Trandoshan can) as he wrung his hands.

"Herald! Yes, Qyzen has us told all. Did not know you came. Will bring you to camp."

Setra fell in with the youngster as he led her to their camp, clocking that he was walking with a limp. She picked up enough between the Force and her years of hunting (and experience around similarly-aged Trandoshans thanks to her travels with Qyzen) that it was a recent injury, and the youth was trying to tend to it himself.

"So, what caught your leg? Gotten a chance to talk to a healer yet?"

"Am fine, Herald, is small thing."

Ahh. Stepped wrong on an incline, or in an unnoticed trap. Something silly that his pride won't let him admit.

"Right then, I'll be peeking at it once we get to camp; I brought medicine and have experience as a healer."

The young Trandoshan - Khiso, she learned - tried to protest, but Setra shut him down with a Look (a skill she honed long ago thanks to her adoptive mother and Masters Bre and Yuon). The trek to camp, at least, was on even ground, and they reached Qyzen's camp at dusk. Khiso tried to slink off immediately, but Setra firmly grabbed his shoulder and led him over to a vacant stool.

Setra's instincts won out; Khiso had indeed run afoul of a trap that he'd missed, and the wound had started to fester. Soon they were joined by a circle of older Trandoshans - several of whom Setra recognized and greeted - who promptly scolded Khiso for being so careless as Setra tended the wound, using a mix of the Force and healing salves that she kept in hidden pockets (and preferred over Kolto when hunting).

And then she heard him.

His voice was soft; he was at the other end of the camp, having just returned from scouting. Setra finished her handiwork and stood up, a lump in her throat, all of her confidence evaporating, suddenly shy.

She couldn't find the right words, her mouth dry.

She didn't need to; as if the Force had whispered to him, Qyzen Fess, Setra's oldest and dearest friend, looked up and met Setra's gaze.

They both stared for a long, agonizing moment.

And then Qyzen dropped the report he was reading, and in three long not-quite-running strides he scooped up Setra and spun her around before they crashed to the ground in a hug.

Qyzen shakily touched Setra's cheek, and she placed her hand on his right eye; it had been scarred and blinded in a fight. A fight that Setra should have been present for, and could have saved him in.

"Herald, little one, how? Thought you lost on Zakuul."

"I was. They threw me in carbonite for five years, I only got out a few weeks ago thanks to Lana and some of her friends. Qyzen, I - I lost my Points. The Scorekeeper is pissed at me right now."

Qyzen rumbled in his chest and throat as he rested his forehead against Setra's, not caring that her horns were poking him."

"Who, little one, Arcann? The Emperor?"

"Both. Arcann captured me, the Emperor forced his way into my head. We haven't figured out yet how to remove him."

Qyzen nodded, still rumbling. Despite herself, Setra started purring in response; Qyzen was one of the handful of people who brought it out. After a moment, they stood up and Qyzen started packing his things.

"Come, little one. Have much to do to regain your points and please the Scorekeeper. Will come to Odessen. Maybe retire, after."

Setra laughed as she helped him pack, her confidence restored.