#torian cadera fanfiction

[eliterevy]

Die Erben des Cadera-Clans

Auch wenn bei den Mandalorianern "Familie über das Blut hinaus geht" und man ein neues Clan-Mitglied quasi zu jeder Zeit an jedem Ort finden könnte, kann es nicht schaden, den Familienbund mit dem eigenen Nachwuchs zu vergrößern. Torian und Jhiami haben mit der Zeit immer mehr Gefallen daran gefunden, kleine Nachfolger und Nachfolgerinnen in die Welt zu setzen und diese nach ihren eigenen Idealen zu formen. Durch die vorbildhafte Lebensweise und dennoch liebevolle Erziehung hegen die Eltern große Hoffnungen für die Zukunft ihrer Sprösslinge.

[Star Wars - The Old Republic] - [Vorlage zum Bild aus Me and My Brothers von Hari Tokeino]

[shynmighty]

randomizer says 96 of the 102 kisses list!

Well, can't argue with the randomizer! Eager kisses it is!

From these prompts!

Actually the reason this took so long (sorry!) was because I immediately thought of Aecenith and Torian when I saw this... but they hadn't gotten together in-game yet! And of course, I got so excited about it when that DID happen that I messed it up royally... but I still wanted to get this idea out there because it amused me! 😂

Hope you all enjoy it!

96. Eager Kisses Pairing: Aecenith Silverblade/Torian Cadera

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum. However long forever turns out to be, I’m yours.”

The words sent a thrill through her, practically electric, and not at all unpleasant. It didn’t matter that they were standing in the cargo area of her ship. They could have been mired in the foulest swamp on Hutta for all Aecenith cared. The only thing that mattered, practically the only thing that had ever mattered, or ever would matter… was that Torian Cadera loved her.

And, as long as she was being honest, hearing him say it in Mando’a was a nice bonus.

Aecenith leaned forward, resting one hand on his chest, above his heart. Her head tilted upwards, instinctively. Impatiently. Torian was smiling slightly, that little smile that quickened her heart rate and weakened her knees, as he leaned down to meet her. She could feel his breath on her lips.

“Boss!” An excited, high-pitched voice babbling in Jawaese heralded the arrival of Blizz, waving a half-complete contraption over his head. “Boss! Boss want to see Blizz’s newest invention?”

Aecenith froze, then turned slowly towards the Jawa. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Torian grimacing. It took all the self-control she possessed to refrain from shrieking her displeasure at the interruption.

“Hey, buddy, I’m a little busy at the moment,” she said, surprising herself with how calm and measured she sounded. “You know, I bet Gault would just love to see what you’re up to.”

“Great idea, Boss! Blizz show Gault invention, then show Boss!” Blizz replied.

“Spare no detail,” Aecenith added. It was hard to be mad at the little guy. Normally, she found his enthusiasm endearing. But as Blizz rushed off, she could not help but hope she could salvage the moment before that had been so rudely, if accidentally, disrupted.

“You’re coming with me,” Aecenith stated, taking hold of Torian’s wrist, and leading him to the ship’s stairway. He laughed softly, but quickly schooled his features and submitted to Aecenith’s command.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” He remarked, but Aecenith could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ve wasted enough time,” she said, shooting him a smile of her own over her shoulder. “Now I’m going to make up for it.”

She turned to face him as they reached the top of the stairs. Without letting go of his wrist, she stepped forward again, the impatience from before rearing inside her. He had no right to be so dreamy.

“There you are!” Mako’s voice might as well have been the roar of a krayt dragon tearing through the ship.

Aecenith squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again and turning to face Mako, whom she loved like a sister… but right now she was ready to strangle her for having the worst timing imaginable.

“You’re not going to believe the news I just saw on the HoloNet…” Mako had already launched into her dramatic retelling of the story while Aecenith and Torian shared a look, neither truly listening… Something about a factory fire and a traveling circus. She did not even notice Aecenith’s grip tighten on Torian’s wrist.

“Wasn’t Gault just asking about that?” Torian subtly maneuvered himself to nudge Aecenith’s shoulder.

Picking up on the real purpose behind his question, Aecenith nodded. “I think he was. You should tell him about it, Mako.”

“Oh, okay,” Mako smiled, “I didn’t realize he was so interested in juggling ugnaughts.”

Aecenith breathed a sigh of relief as Mako disappeared down the stairs. With her hand still firmly gripping Torian’s wrist, she started once again towards her room.

The holocom behind her chirped.

“Are you kidding me?” Aecenith growled.

Torian frowned. “Might be important.”

With a groan, Aecenith released his wrist and activated the call. The holographic image of an Imperial officer in a stiff uniform flickered over the holocom.

“Champion,” the man said with a curt bow. “We would like to discuss—”

“My associate handles that,” Aecenith said, her voice grinding through clenched teeth. “Please contact Gault Rennow with the details.”

“But—” The officer got no further as Aecenith disconnected the call. Perhaps it was a bad idea to toss the matter, whatever it was, to Gault… but she was beyond caring.

At her side, Torian disguised his soft laughter behind a cough. “Think the coast is clear?” he asked, fingers threading through hers.

This time, Aecenith did not pause to reply. She would suffer no further interruptions. The door of her quarters hissed open in tandem with a cry of exasperation from Gault somewhere downstairs.

As soon as that door closed behind them, Torian found his back pushed against it. Aecenith’s lips met his in a rush of fervency. The longer kiss devolved into a series of more rapid ones, building to a fever pitch between them, finally drowning out the rest of the ship and the galaxy along with it.

“Worth the wait,” Torian whispered against her mouth.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Aecenith replied before kissing him again.

[qaashaa]

Out Among the Stars (chapter 1)

"How? How are you still walking around on that?" The exasperation temporarily overtook concern in the bounty hunter’s voice, as she helped Torian strip out of his armor, and peeled back layers of clothing to reveal the angry gash on her companion's hip.

"Needed to keep going." He shrugged, not quite nonchalantly. "Had to keep up with you."

His tone was light, almost joking, but she could hear the ever-present ring of steel behind his words, the things implied. Conversations with him were always that way, reading between the words, for the things he hadn’t said. She could never decide if it was the fact that, as far as languages went, Basic was a distant second to the Mando’a he’d grown up speaking, or if it was simply that he didn’t feel the need to use more than a handful of words to make his point. In either case, she’d grown accustomed to his silences, and it was easy enough to hear the words that he hadn’t spoken. He hadn't been willing to let her fight without him at her side. He would fight through pain as readily as through enemy forces, if it meant that he could keep her in his line of sight, know that she was safe, and keep from getting separated again. When she glanced up from the careful task of cleaning the wound, and applying kolto and bandages, she was unsurprised to find his intense blue stare waiting for her.

She sighed heavily. "You know I can take care of myself, and that I will always come back to you, right? Darasuum. Forever. That’s what I promised you, and I meant it.” She held his gaze for a moment, before turning back to the task at hand.

It was far from the first time they'd been back here in the med bay, patching each other up, but it always felt a little vulnerable all the same. Deep familiarity with the surface of someone's skin never quite prepared you for having to stitch them back together again. Truthfully, she envied Torian’s unflappable equanimity when it came to injury. For him, it seemed like just another part of the job, and getting his wounds mended, or helping to mend hers was only a matter of course. She had never seen even a hint of shame or shyness from him on that score. If he was injured, he accepted care without making a fuss over it, and he administered care in the same steady and even way. All of the moons in their orbits had nothing on his stoic consistency.

When she took a hit, it was hard to not be ashamed, to feel the sting of it as a failing, or a flaw. Needing someone else to mend her hurts felt like her own private hell, proof that even after every victory, she still couldn’t measure up to the impossibly high standards that she set for herself. There was no room to be anything other than flawless. Until Torian, anyway. Everything about that man was just different.

She let her hands linger for a moment, resting gently on the exposed skin of his hip, carefully avoiding the fresh bandages, letting the kolto work its way into the broken skin beneath. He didn’t flinch away from her touch, and after a moment, his calloused hand slid to cover hers.

“Your turn.”

She could hear the softness in his words, not quite a smile. He shifted, swinging his legs off the bed, and re-settling his clothes to hide the bandages as he stood. The bounty hunter leaned against the edge of the bio bed, watching him. Ever since they’d been reunited, she felt like she was lost in the desert, and he was the water she so desperately craved. She could watch him forever, just going about his day.

“Up.”

His voice startled her out of her reverie. He had taken a step closer, and she rested a hand on his chest. He was warm and solid, his comforting presence anchoring her back into the present. He still smelled of beskar and sweat, blood and smoke. He smelled like battle, but also like home. He wrapped his arms around her waist, letting her lean into him for a breath, before lifting her up onto the edge of the bio bed. She laughed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You’re relentless, you know that?” She quipped, intending her words to carry a little more bite than they did. He was impervious.

“Been told so.” He tilted his head in a quick nod, and stepped back, hands steadying her where she sat. As soon as he was sure she wouldn’t fall, he began inspecting her for damage.

She sighed, giving in to his ministrations. She let him check her over, treating the scrapes and cuts she’d acquired, gently smoothing the healing liquid over her damaged skin.

He started from her fingertips, working his way over each split and bruised knuckle, then turned her hands over, addressing the blisters on her palms. She felt him run practiced hands over her limbs, testing for signs of injury, but finding nothing significant. She’d been lucky this time, and hadn’t taken any direct hits on any unarmored parts of her body. She mostly just felt tired and bruised at a bone deep level.

Torian continued his slow survey, checking her over, working his way up to her face. She felt him linger over the small laceration across her cheekbone, the cold fizz feeling of kolto in the cut making her hiss a sharp breath through her teeth. She felt his fingers wander down the side of her jaw, and then slide to the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place as his mouth covered hers. She closed her eyes, sinking into the kiss, but pulled up short as she felt the cool buzz of kolto on her lips.

“You sly bastard!” She choked, half laughing through the oddness of the sensation, and swatting at his retreating chest.

She brushed across her lips with the back of her hand, noticing her split lip for the first time. The bounty hunter looked up into the night-sky eyes of the man looming over her. His face was a mask of bland professionalism, but she knew him better than her own soul, and could see the impish twinkle lurking there.

He tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Better?”

((This is only the beginning of the first chapter of a new ongoing story about the Bounty Hunter and her crew, as they adventure between the big plot points in SWTOR. Check it out over on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/37807573 ))

[crqstalite]

archives, atin’la. [ba’shira & mierrio]

atin’la: mandalorian for tough

evidently, ziost was not the first time mierrio and ba'shira met in dire circumstances. and clearly, would not be the last.

shorter chapter, originally intended to be a fun jab at ba’shira and mierrio’s past exploits together before ziost; instead became an insight into her and torian’s relationship. oops-

-

"Sith!"

Everything is moving too quickly for anyone to acknowledge what's going on outside their own two feet hitting the ground in rapid succession. There's nothing else to acknowledge other than their own two feet hitting the ground as they run for their literal lives.

For this alone, Ba'shira has already decided she is never visiting Makeb again, for a Sith's grand plan for repairing the mess their infighting (Ba'shira now knew why Mandalorians didn't really interact with Sith -- and would keep in mind to keep her distance next time one came knocking) had caused or otherwise. Considering the planet was about to blow it's top while they were still on it, there might not even be a Makeb to visit later down the line. Getting out of the drill shaft, where it's dark, dingy and falling apart on top of them is her first priority over everything else. Finishing the mission be damned, Katha, Cytharat and Marr would have to deal with failure if it meant she could see the light of another day.

Both Mandalorians are taking up the rear of their small party, that being them and the Sith Lord and her husband. How they'd gotten stuck together, she wasn't entirely sure. Why Marr had requested Nox's assistance with the technically Imperial world was understandable. Why the man (was he man under all that armor? She knew her and Torian's beskar'gam was extensive but at least they still knew they were human underneath it all) had hired her, was another mystery entirely. Great Hunt Champion or not, there was about a thousand reasons why she wasn't qualified to deal with a planet that was dying from extensive mining of some mineral or the other, and another thousand for why she deserved way more than just hazard pay for this job.

Hell, there weren't enough credits for this bantha dung of a mission.

Ba'shira is throwing a look over her shoulder every few moments to see whether or not the surviving Regulators had followed them through the shaft. Yes, she'd left them wounded and Nox had shocked them to oblivion and back but you never knew at the best of times. Humans, Zabraks, Rattataki, you name it, they tended to be way more resilient than expected.

Hearing the yelling in front of her, Ba'shira pauses for a moment to assess the situation, and she can see where the high, rock ceiling is coming apart before them, making the path to safety more and more perilous as the moments pass. There will be dings and dents in her beskar for days after this, and while it's an excuse to spend more time with Torian, she's afraid the metal won't continue to hold up under all the abuse it's taking. Or there won't be a her underneath it all to spend time with.

Riveting her gaze towards the nearly hysterical pirate in front of them, Nox had paused, turning to look at her husband with a confused and worried look in her eyes as she tries to make out what he says to her. Gaze darting around before falling on the issue in question, Ba'shira curses in Mando'a (means the translations have finally been sticking, exactly when she doesn't need them) and quickly realizes why Andronikos had yelled for her. A boulder is growing loose from the ceiling.

Nox has paused in exactly the right place to get crushed.

Nox herself looks up too late to do much about it, and her amber yellow eyes widen in fear before holding her hands up as if to protect herself. Sith were odd, but even she was sure that the woman couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. Essentially, Nox has paused for much too long, and Ba'shira groans and does the only thing she knows is right, even though it's sure to get her killed if she hesitates for even a moment. A running start as the boulder begins to fall, she activates her jetpack in a split second and blasts forward. Knocking the wind out of the Sith Lord and out of the way of the rock of death, dust gathers around them as the boulder falls, the shadow of the boulder growing larger and larger on the ground as the seconds pass. Nox has been pushed out of the way, and she's gearing up to blast her own way out. But, it's as if time speeds up, and she can barely getting a finger to the button before she sees the boulder out of the corner of her eyes.

The last thing Ba'shira sees is the woman skidding to the ground with a look of panic and confusion on her dirtied, pale face, and the yell of her name in Torian's voice over the rumbling of the groundquake as she tries her best to get up and run.

She can see the flash of tan as Torian runs for her, and all she can yell is a solemn, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika."

Well, that would be a nice ending to her. A nice obituary for the underworld if she even ended up that popular. Least her last words wouldn't be obscenities. Torian would live on knowing he taught her something in Mando'a, as unteachable and insufferable as she was.

And in death, Sith couldn't bother her to go to unstable planets and fight their wars anymore.

-

Except, it seemed this Sith wanted to continue tormenting her for a bit longer.  Ba'shira can barely believe it herself, as she holds her breath, waiting for her body to black out. But she's still sore, and the beskar is heavy against her body.

Cracking open one eye, and then the other, she's in shock as she finds that the boulder is levitating just above her. She's not dead, at least not yet. The rumbling is still deafening around her, and the rock is just barely tapping the toe of her boot. A moment later, it lowers by just a millimeter again. She panics, thinking she's only cheated death for a few moments. She can't move, her whole foot is almost being crushed, she can't say anything in fear it'll bring her end about faster. All before it's being thrown to the side and she can see the extended cave again. A loud crash sounds and she instinctively rolls onto her side to block the worst of it hitting her front.

She's alive.

Ba'shira Cadera has finally crossed that off her bucket list -- cheating death. Mako would not believe it if they made it back in one piece. The Mandalorian woman is nearly hyperventilating at this point before she really registers that she's still breathing, that she's has all her limbs, that she's still alive.

She's in-between crying and laughing -- both out of being grateful for her saving grace (whatever it was) or chuckling at death's inability to finish the job. It's already bubbling up and out of her throat as she chucks her helmet off, and it clatters to the ground beside her while she sits up, hunched over. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she blinks a couple times to get the dust out and tries to register her surroundings again. Torian comes back into view as she begins to remember she's not alone, and the Sith Lord and her husband looked genuinely relieved as the three of them come over to her.

That was new. Nox didn't seem to care for her safety as much as she did the pirate's, but if she had been the one to yank the boulder off her as the only force sensitive in the vincinty, she guessed she owed her life to the Sith now.

Fuck.

Her first concern is very much Torian (after she's come to this conclusion), he's taken off his own helmet and throws it down to hold his forehead against hers as they both throw their arms around the other. For a moment, he's the only thing going on in the world, no matter how hot they both are underneath their layers of armor or how close to death both of the came in the last few hours. It's as if she can't touch enough of him, trying to remind him that she's here and she's alive and that she's okay, "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur, Torian. I'm okay, cyar'ika."

There may be a chuckle she didn't catch, because he helps her up and a relieved smile crosses his face. If she can joke, she can breathe, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum" He responds softly. Considering their current company, he doesn't make to kiss her, but instead is happy enough to squeeze her hand in his. She squeezes back before grabbing her helmet and holding it under an arm. It's dented beyond belief, and even being adopted into a clan, she's not sure where in hell to acquire more of the metal.

"Looks like whatever's going down now, we aren't leaving for a while." The gruff voice of the pirate snaps her back to reality as both of their allies approach them. They're still stuck down here, and by the defeated look on the Sith Lord's pale face in the dim blue light of the staticky communicator, they've lost com connection as well. It made enough sense during the quake, but if they're truly stuck down here, Ba'shira has a few ideas that would get out of there faster.

Rockets, mostly. But she could be persuaded otherwise. Missiles were always an option.

"Thank you though, for that. Y'know, risking you're life like that for her." Is his follow-up sentence. This is the first time they've spoken seriously since they met two weeks ago, and Ba'shira can see the relief written all over his face even if he attempts to hide it beneath the bravado and quick draw action he shows off to them. The Sith nods absentmindedly, her attentions clearly not with them right then, "You didn't have to nearly sacrifice yourself for her, but you did."

"'Course. Wasn't going to just let her die like that. I knew if I could, I should. And I did." She responds, "Know no one wants to go home without their wife. Wasn't going to let that happen to you. Are we really stuck here though?"

"The shaft has been cut off entirely. It'd take hours to blast through it, but if I could just--" the Sith looks to where they'd come from, and where the entrance had been before looking down at her hands. The woman is unnecessarily pale, and she clearly has a headache of some sort by the way she keeps blinking and rubbing her temples. Her husband cuts her off rather quickly.

"Sith, you're not pulling a stunt like that again. Corsha took a lot out of you, and you're not making your recovery any smoother by chucking rocks triple the size of you." He says sternly. Ba'shira considers making the note that the maybe 5"3 woman was going to be smaller than everything they come across, but holds her tongue. Now she's curious about this Corsha person, and wonders if someone had tried to kill her. If she's being honest, it wouldn't be surprising with her personality and reputation.

"Thankful for our lives, really. But if it's too much for you to even attempt that, Torian and I still have some firepower left over." She responds instead, considering that boulder could've made her a Mandalorian pancake had the Sith not overexerted herself and not feeling as bad about it now, "Might take a bit, especially with those monsters we encountered earlier depleting most of any weapons we have."

"Niar hasn't responded to our calls yet either. Figure she'll get a crew down here soon, but Cytharat was the only force user capable of something like that. It'll take ages for anyone to get through there with anything short of a firing crew." He says, confirming her worst suspicions, "We just gotta sit tight for a while until we can get in contact with anyone at this point."

"They wouldn't leave a Sith Lord to die down here. Me, maybe, Marr probably couldn't give less of a kriffing shit about me, but he wouldn't let her go. I say two hours, maybe three tops before we're home free." She says nonchalantly. Marr wouldn't let Nox die, maybe her enemies on the Council (if she had any, and maybe this Corsha person while they were at it) would, but she prays that by association she gets out of this as well. Ba'shira has debts she hasn't paid yet, and Mako, Gault, and Blizz would be hunted down by the Cartel if she didn't pay those back. Even through death, the Hutts always got their money back.

The Sith slumps against her husband only a few moments later, clearly out of it and exhausted. Ba'shira (and her two companions) originally assume she's really gone and kicked the bucket, but later she learns the woman had given birth only a few months earlier (Corsha was her first biological child and it had been a trying pregnancy for her, according to Andronikos. Ba'shira had also finally learned their names properly during this conversation) and had forced herself back onto the battlefield. Currently suffering from Force Exhaustion, no wonder she'd passed out, running a fever and breathing hard. Kolto couldn't exactly be administered in this situation except for minor scratches and injuries here and there, but their minimal supplies of water and rations are dealt out accordingly to deal with everyone's waning battle highs. They manage to do some damage, but other than trying to keep Mierrio and everyone cool, there isn't much else to do but wait as advised. Ba'shira can't even get in contact with the Mantis, and time ticks by on her chrono

Six hours. They spend six hours under all the rubble until they manage to loosen the rubble enough to blast their way out with the minimal assistance of another ground team with shovels (she wonders if she can convince the semi-conscious Mierrio to advocate for better recovery teams, they wouldn't have spent nearly as long in the tunnel if they had more than measly shovels). It goes about business as usual, though the Revels would be out of the operation for a day or two for the woman to recover her strength. Ba'shira's nearly sad to see her go, before also remembering that the woman was partially the reason she was here and the reason she had to cheat death to begin with.

As soon as they're back on solid ground, making to return to their lodgings for the evening, Ba'shira and Torian find themselves alone overlooking the mesas of Makeb, sun setting over the ridges as the cool wind blows by.

It'd be a pretty day, was she not still thinking about the incident from earlier that had been brushed off so easily by Niar and her team. Yet again, why Ba'shira didn't prefer working with Imperials. They never ceased to be frustratingly reclusive and apathetic at the worst of times. Sure Ba'shira had enough apathy to go around the whole crew twice, but still. She'd be way more concerned about her team's safety, especially considering she was on their payroll.

There's no ceremony, not anything preceding before they seem to both have the same idea at once. Taking each other in their arms once out of sight of any other Imperials, and kissing the other hard, as if they haven't seen each other in ages. If she's being honest, between being shot at, and being choked out by a Sith Lord, this has to be one of her worst near death experiences. Ba'shira had never been gung ho about saving other people, her own hide meant more to her than anyone elses', but she'd kick ass for her cyare's life. She hated being in tight spaces anyways, and that split second that she thought she was going to die there in a musty tunnel with two people she couldn't care less about and her Torian looking as if he wanted to save her himself set a panic in her. It wasn't just her anymore either, aside from her crew that she treated like family, Torian was the one man who honestly respected her not for how she looked, but how she fought and her personality.

And she had almost lost him.

Returning to their quarters that night, Ba'shira and Torian spend their time cleaning off their beskar and repairing what they can before the sun rises again. The new paint job she'd only gotten weeks before their mission to Makeb had come off in streaks and she cursed every time she found a grey area where the coloring had come off. The deep maroon and tangerine orange had been such a nice choice beforehand, but she'd been cheap just this once and had chosen a lower quality paintjob. The damage could've been worse, and she's glad there are only a few places she needs to get an armorsmith to bang back into place. The helmet, she'd have to go without until they were done with this planet, but Torian reassures her that he won't wear his if she doesn't wear hers.

Maybe it was time for a new color. Pink hadn't gone too well with the orange, but a coral color could go nicely with it. Orange, for a 'lust for life' and pink, for respecting someone. All things her cyare had told her, and sleeping against him that night, she's halfway in between regretting saving the wife and mother of two because of the distress she'd put him in, but at the same time glad because it meant she was upholding her code. There was no honor in leaving the woman to die if there was something she could do about it. While she was sure that even if she wasn't Mandalorian that he'd still care for her, she's happy she was able to find a medium between being one and being herself.

"Hey, Torian?" She whispers, late at night and laying on her side. He's still awake, if not blearily. His cyan blue eyes take a moment to focus on her, but when they do it's as if her body temperature has gone up a few degrees. Only one of the many reasons she married him, she would swim in his eyes for hours if she could.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, just as quiet. Ba'shira smiles, she wonders if she looks just as young as him, or whether he can tell what she's about to say.

"No, nothing's wrong, cyar'ika." She answers after a pause, "I love you."

He doesn't seem surprised though, the corners of his lips pulling upwards with a soft smile.  He gently pulls her closer, and presses a kiss to her forehead, before leaning his forehead against her's. Even without their helmets, it's a natural reaction to both of them now, "I love you too, 'Shira."

"Bet you're glad you taught me all that Mando'a now, huh?"

"Haven't started cursing in it yet. See that as a good thing." He answers, a smirk on his face as she rolls her eyes, "Remember you wanting to get me out of my armor first."

"Details, details..."

-

It isn't until nearly eleven years later that she meets the infamous Corsha Revel that had given her mother so much trouble the year after her birth. Given, she's missing her father and younger brother (she was not the youngest anymore, and Ba'shira was curious why Mierrio hadn't stopped with her if Force Exhaustion was so prevalent with her), but the girl is a fiesty thing. Her fiery personality reminds her immediately of the pirate and the Sith, and it's hard not to take her under her wing until Andronikos returns. Essentially, she handles the girl's shooting skills until her father takes over.

Gar taldin ni jaonyc. It was a phrase that Torian often reflected on that he thought was a good summary of his life. At first, he hadn't told her what exactly it meant, until he had after they'd allied with Tormen for good. "Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be", apparently. Until she'd met Corsha and Ronin, and really registered the people that they were, from the people who had raised them, she didn't fully understand the meaning behind the phrase. Later, she did.

Mandalorians valued family, legacies, maybe more than even the Sith did. Ba'shira had never been the type to want children, before Zakuul had attacked, her life plan was to get rich and then die rich. Kids be damned. Torian had never aired a concern to her that they were getting too old to have them, but she was coming up on her thirty first birthday, she's beginning to realize Clan Cadera is going to die with the last Mandalorians with the name.

Ba'shira's mothers had died long before they could've taught her anything useful about motherhood. Now, she was curious. Could her body even handle carrying a child to full-term after all the abuse she'd put it through over the years? Considering her own adoption in Mandalore's clan, she figured there wasn't anything against adopted children carrying on a Clan name.

Did she, Ba'shira Cadera, even want kids?

After Darvannis, seeing so many Mandalorians all in one place again, she thinks about it again. The Orchid had been no place to bring a child into the galaxy, with all the sharp edges and the Jawa with the sharp edges. Odessen in wartime wasn't really either, but the Revel children had quickly adapted to their new surroundings. They were also ranging in ages from thirteen to ten though.

A dark haired or blonde little boy or girl, running about an causing a ruckus alongside their parents. Or a Twi'lek, or a Zabrak, or a Chiss, or hell even a Pureblood if she's getting really crazy. Any kid of her's, biological or otherwise, would be loved.

Another day, she thinks, getting to her feet and readjusting her helmet, another day to think about these things. Can't catch a bounty if I can't see over my own two feet.

Another day won, for Clan Cadera.

[theniveanlegacy]

I’m doing a fic rec, because this fic is amazing and everyone should read it. If you haven’t read it and you like Torian, you definitely should.

Resol'nare

By TazmainianDevil ( @taz-devil )

Rated T - 14,517 words - F!Bounty Hunter/Torian Cadera

Summary: The way to a Mandalorian's heart is through their stomach

This is a ritual meal. It’s meant to be shared with people you love, you ungrateful assholes.

[cinlat]

Chapters: 32/34 Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Rating: Mature Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper, Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan, Vector Hyllus/Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Lana Beniko/Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Female Smuggler/Koth Vortena, Elara Dorne/Male Republic Trooper, Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Male Sith Warrior Series: Part 4 of Meet Me On The Battlefield Word Count: Total (152,684) Chapter (4,868)

A/N: Rated M. Also only 2 chapters left!

Summary: Fynta finally goes back to Odessen. Jorgan makes a few critical decisions. Fynta reveals her darkest secret.

The Petulant Bitch Orbit around Odessen

Fynta joined Torian at the viewscreen to survey the planet below. Odessen was beautiful from orbit, filled with vibrant greens and blues. They were the colors of life, the promise of a fresh start. Still, Fynta didn't miss the way Torian's attention strayed. "Like what you see?"

Clearing his throat, Torian offered a gruff nod out the window. "I hear it's a zoo down there." Cold eyes slid towards Fynta. "So many factions working together; keeps life interesting."

Fynta leaned around the Mandalorian chief to spy Noara perched on one of the tables, having an animated conversation with Koth. The woman hadn't sat in a chair properly since Fynta had met her. "You have no idea."

"What made you choose the Republic?" Torian asked, following Fynta's line of sight to the Jedi. She couldn't help but smirk at the interest in his gaze.

"I didn't like the way the Empire ran things." Fynta shrugged when Torian glanced at her. "Turns out the Republic wasn't much different. Guess there's a reason our people tend to avoid organized government."

Torian snorted before allowing his eyes to stray back to Noara. "Verin said that you hated anything having to do with the Force. Why bring her along?"

"She's easy on the eyes." Fynta grinned when Torian pinned her with an unamused stare. Laughing, she folded her arms while they both studied the topic of their conversation. Fynta knew there was more to Torian's questions than simple curiosity. "Noara isn't like the rest of them. No pomp, no peace lectures...she's more like us. The girl enjoys a good scrap and throws a hell of a left hook. The Force is just a bonus."

Torian didn't answer, but his unwavering attention when Noara excused herself to fetch a snack was confirmation enough . Fynta slapped the man on the back. "She's mando'ade, just doesn't know it yet."

When Torian didn't respond, Fynta nudged him with her elbow. "Feeling a bit peckish?"

"I could eat." Without offering a farewell, he set a course for the snacks, leaving Fynta to grin after him. Torian was a good man and would treat Noara right. Force knew the girl deserved that much. They both did.

Fynta's holo buzzed, and Theron appeared in her palm. "Impatient much?" She laughed, still giddy over the prospect of playing matchmaker. It was the fourth time he'd tried to contact her in as many minutes. Fynta assumed that Theron, of all people, would realize that the Petulant Bitch was in a holding pattern while the ground crew made room. Hirani made outrageous demands when it came to her ship. The war council agreed to them because she was one of their best pilots, second only to Hylo and Koth.

The look on Theron's face silenced Fynta's mirth. "I'm glad I caught you, are you somewhere private?"

"I can be." Fynta's stomach clenched as she moved towards her quarters and locked the door. "What's wrong now?"

"Firstly, damn woman, you and your husband need to work on your communication skills." Theron set the holo down and paced in and out of view. Fynta cringed at what that action could possibly mean. In the past, Theron had glared at his datapad in irritation. His movement and the absence of said device couldn't be a good sign. "Before we get into that, need to know that SCORPIO was destroyed in our last mission. I'll have the entire debriefing sent to you tomorrow."

"What?" Fynta's gut tightened more, send a wave of nausea through her. She swallowed crouches on the balls of her feet to steady herself. "What do you mean destroyed? And, what did you do to Aric?"

Pausing to glare at her, Theron harrumphed. "Why does it have to be my fault?" He flapped his hands in irritation. "Look, don't shoot the messenger—again—but Jorgan paid me a visit a couple of days ago and things didn't go great."

"Spit it out, Theron," Fynta snapped. She searched her memories for anything that her old friend could have told Aric to upset him and came up blank. SCORPIO should probably be Fynta's top priority, but she couldn't bring herself to care about the temperamental droid. She'd just gotten Aric back and the idea of losing him again consumed her mind too much to allow multitasking.

"Fine. He came to me for information about the ten months after you were rescued from Zakuul." Theron leveled Fynta with an accusatory glare. "Said that you wouldn't talk to him about it. So, I gave him access to the feeds I'd compiled over the last year."

Fynta's mouth opened. "You have—" she snapped it shut with a shake of her head. "Of course you do, go on."

"Anyway," Theron continued in a peeved tone. "He didn't watch all of them, but I'd forgotten about an incident here on the base." When Fynta didn't react, Theron held his hands out. "A certain Twi'lek soldier that I found in your—"

"Fierfek."

"Now she gets it." Theron dropped his arms. "The feed only showed him being thrown out of your room half naked, but it was enough."

Fynta ran a hand down her face and tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She hadn't thought about that guy since the night it happened. He'd been a passing urge to release a bit of stress. Nothing more, and it hadn't even gotten that far before Theron broke in. Looking back at the eternal bane of her existence, Fynta sighed. "Did you explain to him what really happened?"

"Didn't get a chance," Theron answered with an expression that stopped short of pity. "He stormed out before I could say anything, and I haven't seen him since."

Ice settled in Fynta's veins, making her light headed. "Is he still on Odessen?"

"I think so." Theron finally picked up his datapad. "I've been monitoring traffic and there are no reports of Major Jorgan seeking passage off planet." He looked up to meet Fynta's gaze through the holo. "It's a big base, Fynta. I have no idea where he is."

Read more on Ao3 & FFN

[istanbulite]

Old Ghosts

‘’Are you okay?’’

Nino jumped on her stool upon this sudden question, pulling herself from her daydreams reluctantly to glance around - the worst cantina she had ever seen. Hoth. Nighttime. Reneget...something. 

Right.

She wondered how long she had been staring at the empty bottle - bottles - on the bar, this Torian had to be more patient than any human she had encountered. It didn’t lessen the embarrassment, but she didn’t apologise...not again - this time she thought it’d annoy him into leaving her alone in this frozen wasteland. The whole mission had been a disaster already. Not technically perhaps - no, if anything Nino would always, always finish a mission but she found it difficult to feel her survival instincts. It made her recall her early days in the Imperial space, fighting to the death in the front lines.

The longer they stayed on this blasted ice planet, she noticed, more and more she was being pulled into her thoughts, retiring into her shell - armour - in order to ignore everything - everyone, any stinging remark thrown at her way or any seemingly concealed glance that’d cause her to snap back into memories she had done everything in her hand to forget for almost a decade - all for nothing. However she was not alone, and her cheeks warmed with embarrassment when she thought what he could be thinking about her unseemly, ridiculous behaviours. Some dignity. He must be disappointed, she thought blearily, I’m acting like a madwoman.

But she nodded confidently nonetheless, her actions exaggerated with slight inebriation, turning to her side to give Torian what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Oddly enough he didn’t smile back like he’d usually do but sighed deeply without bothering to hide it, turning back to his drink instead, downing the rest and for some humiliating reason, Nino felt her insides knot into even a tighter mess. She stared at his profile - he didn’t look disappointed, not really, frozen more like - rigid, maybe he’s cold, she thought again, Hoth is hardly an ideal world for humans.

She cleared her throat, and shook her head instead of smiling that fake frozen smile - it didn't fool anyone - ‘’You can go if you like, Torian. We’ll be staying just upstairs you know?‘’ she gestured the ceiling of the space station, ‘’Get some rest.’’

He shook his head, ‘’Not without you - and his face became pinker before he continued hurriedly ‘’I mean, you need to rest too. Can’t leave you alone here.’’

‘’Torian - ’’

‘’Do you want to talk?’’ he asked before she could protest, ‘’I’ll listen. Either way - we should go.’’

Despite the haziness that came from the numerous drinks, she felt a pang of irritation, ‘’I said you can go! I’m speaking Basic right?’’ she tried in Mando’a, although very clumsily, <<‘’Just go!’’>>

<<’’No!’’>> he exclaimed as well to her annoyed reply, <<‘’Never!’’>>

‘’Err..-’’

He sighed again, ‘’I said I’m not going.’’ then he leaned back a little, staring at her face intently as if he was surveying whether she could walk on her own or not - of course, she could. The only time she couldn’t walk on her own would be the day she died. ‘’Didn’t know chiss could get drunk.’’

‘’I’m not drunk.’’

‘’Of course...- Well I am.’’ 

‘’You are?’’ Nino looked at him closely as well, he was standing rather straight and focused, soldiers at-ease position, hands clamped behind his back for some reason, as if he were being very careful about where he put them, 

‘’Yes. Should probably help me up.’’

‘’Well...That makes sense.’’ Nino glanced at the bar again, then to Torian and then to the bar, ‘’Fine. Let’s go - whoa’’

‘’Careful.’’ he boldly wrapped one arm around her - which was the first sign he was indeed drunk and not just faking it just to get her out of the cantina - before she could trip over her own feet. He felt distractingly warm through the armour and despite the coldness of their environment - or maybe she just imagined it with her brain desperate for some sort of sensation that wasn't misery and then suddenly, instinctively wound both her arms around him. This would be a perfect moment to break into sobs, she thought distantly, if it were a holodrama this would be the exact moment - but her eyes remained uncomfortably dry, not even giving her an excuse to explain her sudden clinginess.

Her arms were so tight around him she could feel pain from where his armour dug into unarmored parts of her and all the sharp edges - from the small grunt, he couldn’t contain he was suffering the same thing. He didn’t push her away though, much to her surprise, merely tightening his hold and bringing his other hand to her head, lightly stroking her hair where it lay tangled, still half-wet from the snow and the below zero temperature of the cantina.

‘’I’m so sorry.’’ Nino heard herself speaking, voice muffled against his shoulder, ‘’I’m...-’’

‘’Don’t be.’’ he said simply but not unkind, firmly squeezing her waist - the only place not covered in heavy plates, ‘’Just need to sleep this off.’’

‘’Do I?’’

‘’Well..-’’ he turned to her and Nino suddenly realized how close their faces were, with their arms tangled around each other, barely standing straight, his hot breath brushing her face when he spoke quietly right against her, making her heart wake up from its sluggish beat, ‘I’m not gonna force you to speak. So the other option is sleeping.’

‘’Let’s go then.’’ Nino trotted them both more forcefully now, towards the lift, ‘’I’m done with this self-pity.’’

***

‘’You don’t mind sharing a room, right?’‘

‘’Huh?’’ he snapped from the staring contest he seemed to be having with the beds, ‘’Nope.’’

‘’Well it’s not a twin bed, at least.’’ she shrugged, ‘’You really don’t want to share a bed with me - I move about a lot.’’

To that he gave her a rare smile, glancing around the room and the various vulnerable spots, her pathetic attempt at clearing the awkward air worked but only partly, ‘’Doesn’t matter - I mean...Not that I want.’’ he took a deep breath, looking at anywhere but Nino who was silently smiling, ‘’I’d let you have the bed’’ he countered.

‘’How gentlemanly of you.’’

‘’I know.’’ with that he flopped down on one of them, grunting under his breath and Nino sat down beside him, the bed creaking with their combined weight. 

‘’Are you injured?’’ she asked her hands going to his armour clasps without really thinking and he didn't stop her, poofing out a heavy breath instead and trying to roll his shoulders, ‘’Just stiff.’’ he shook his head, blond hair almost as messy as Nino’s curls if not more, having been frozen with ice and melted numerous times through the day, ‘’Feels like I’m just defrosting.’’

She laughed for the first time during their trip into Hoth, a light tinkling sound, loud in the otherwise quiet room and Torian perked up, half turning around to peer at her face with big bright eyes - like he just had to see it no matter the cost, a matter of life and death. Nino felt her breath hitch at his look - he had such an intense stare sometimes, making her wonder just what could be going over his head. She continued helping him with his armour when he didn’t protest, as careful as she can be - as if she could accidentally puncture metal. When he was down to his suit, he took her hands both in thanks, squeezing them and Nino wished she had taken off her gloves before but even with them on, the warmth she felt gently spread over her nearly frozen limbs. He stopped awkwardly then, obviously thinking about something before he blurted it out, ‘This always how you treat your crew?’

‘Not really.’ Nino replied honestly.

‘Good to know.’ he said, hands reaching for her armour, trembling of his fingers not missing her eyes, ‘Same.’ he continued to the unspoken question lingered about her but his hands were dexterous enough that Nino wondered if this could be an innocent lie. Or maybe it was a natural Mandalorian skill to be able to divest their partners from armour. Overall, she was stripped from it in less than fifteen minutes and found herself feeling bereft, as embarrassing as it was.

‘Can I tell something?’

Nino nervously clasped her now bare hands together, looking at the chest plates on the ground, leaning against each other - a strange mirror of them sitting on the bed. Before she could say anything, once again he boldly extended an arm to wrap around her and this time she put her head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling very tired, he backed until they were both leaning against the wall,

‘’I don’t know what happened. No need. Unless you want to -’’ he leaned down a little to see her face and Nino felt her eyes well up at the thoughtful gesture, shaking her head slightly, ‘No then. I’d say it doesn’t matter - whatever happened. You know about...how becoming a Mandalorian means -’’ Nino nodded once, ‘- Yes. Well. Doesn't work just as well in practice, I guess. And if it pains you like this - can't really say it’s not important. It’s very important, even. It’s just...I don't know what to say... - It’s...I..- I’d be honoured to fight whatever it is. For you. Just give me the word.’’

‘’Thank you.’‘

‘’Don’t thank me!’’ he straightened abruptly taking her up with him, firmly holding her shoulders and she was surprised by the intent expression on his face, 

‘I mean it, Nino. Whatever it is - you don’t want to face it. I can!’‘ he seemed at a total loss at words then, opening his mouth only to close it again without saying anything, ‘And if it can’t be fought...then you till have my support- for what it’s worth. Whatever it is, count me in. Just never fight like this - It’s like you want to die!’

Even though his brief, impressively passionate speech and the mere notion of Torian tackling the Great Chiss Ascendancy Politics physically - or maybe hunting down her father - and her years trauma was touching enough she couldn’t help but pry, completely disregarding his remark about her reckless fighting; ‘’You heard what people say about me here, for weeks, even tomorrow isn’t certain I could be jailed anytime. How come you not believe a world full of claims against me?’’

‘‘I don't.’‘ he shrugged.

‘’This doesn’t really explain your naive faith in me.’‘

‘‘Doesn’t have to.’‘

‘‘Is it because I won the Great Hunt?’‘

He briefly chuckled, shaking his head, ‘’Nope.’’

‘‘It’s very impossible to take the words out of your mouth, Torian.’‘

‘‘So I heard.’‘

This is going nowhere, she thought, ‘You trust too blindly.’ she chided, ‘’Why would so many people blame if it wasn’t the truth.’’

‘‘Happens,’‘ he replied, voice suddenly down and removed his hands from her shoulders but Nino reached out and held them in her lap before he could withdraw completely, I’m an idiot. A complete idiot.

‘’I’m sorry - for asking so many dumb questions. I...I’m sure you’d know. With..the whole thing.’’ and Jicoln, she completed in her head, he was blamed with being a traitor for all his life, by his own people nonetheless, not so dissimilar from Nino’s situation - so she held his hands even tighter, the skin of them rough and clammy in her grasp and she also all of a sudden noticed they’ve been holding hands, sitting on bed and holding hands. Alone. She tried to disregard it for the moment being, as much as her heart would allow, already beating a wild tattoo in her throat,

‘’I’m very grateful for your support. I am really. This planet  - it’s awful to me. I don't think anything short of leaving and never coming help would help.’’

‘‘They can’t do anything to you.’’ he said firmly, ‘’Promise.’‘

She had to smile at the childish sincerity of the statement. Courageous and direct - just like the man who said it...If only he knew.

Not the time and not the place, she thought, not now. She allowed herself to find comfort in the reliable nature of the promise without delving into the most complicated issues, for some reason trusting his words more than she had ever trusted anyone before.

‘’I’ll take your word for it.’‘

He kept looking at her expectantly and Nino raised a brow, ‘’Yes?’’

‘Your turn. Promise?’

Ah. ‘’I’ll be more careful. Promise.’’

‘‘Good.’ he nodded, ‘’I don’t want you to die.’‘

‘‘That’s almost like a proposal, coming from you.’’

He laughed boyishly at that, flopping down on the bed and Nino too put her head beside him without thinking about it much, the action almost reminding her of her much younger days where she sometimes shared a bed with her brother. Sweet and familiar. Perhaps the very only memory about her past that didn’t cause her pain. Just as she was about to close her eyes she heard him speak,

‘’Not yet.’‘

[kunoichi-ume]

Chapters: 5/8 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Torian Cadera, Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython, Female Republic Trooper, Aric Jorgan, Torian Cadera, Balic Cormac, Fynta Wolfe, Noara Starspark Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, coping with loss, Hurt/Comfort, Found Families, Character Death, Tea and Tears, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, kotfe

Goodbye is the hardest thing to say to someone who means the galaxy to you, especially when goodbye isn’t what you want. 

Chapter 5 of my angsty project I cowrote with @cinlat that proves even if I love Noara, I am okay with breaking her. 

[resol-nare]

Fictober 18 - Day 2

Aaaaah, I’m late on this one, I know. I started writing this yesterday and couldn’t finish, so I’m going to finish this up and start on day 3 later.

Fic Title: Dush Tuur

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Prompt: “People like you have no imagination.”

Warnings: N/A.

Characters: Mako, Auberil Cadera(Bounty Hunter), Torian Cadera. Pre-SOR.

———

Ever since Auberil, Torian, and Mako had left the ship that morning, their day had been one strange happening after another. They were on the trail of some shadowy crime-lord and after running off the same duo of joker Ugnaught hunters for the fifth time, the trio were feeling rightfully irritated. Auberil was muttering darkly under her breath, adjusting the settings on her datapad as if that would fix their informant problem.

“I don’t get it,” Mako exclaimed, scanning the vacant warehouse again, “They’d said they’d be here!”

Torian began to prowl around the interior, as tense as a vorn tiger, with his bowcaster in hand. “Gaanaylir. We’ve been doing this long enough to know this is a trap.”

“Maybe they’re just late!” Auberil piped up with sarcastic optimism, already scanning the nearby areas for pressure plates, trip lasers, anything that would cause their already terrible day to get even worse. 

Mako frowned at them both, double checking the messages she had exchanged with their informant. These were the right coordinates... The right warehouse, too. She was starting to believe Torian in thinking they had walked into a trap, but was still hoping they were wrong. “Maybe they are late! They could have gotten stuck in traffic, or may have just forgotten something at home, or...”

“Mako, please. When have any of those speculations ever been right?” Auberil snapped, sending a brief incredulous glance over in the slicer’s direction before returning to her scanning. Something popped up on her datapad with a little ‘ping’ and she frowned deeply. “Torian, come here a sec. I’m getting some weird readings from under this panel.”

“We’d best be prepared for the worst. Don’t want to be surprised again,” Torian said as he crossed the space to his wife. He crouched down beside her, starting some scans of his own.

“You know what?” Mako retorted, throwing her hands up in resignation, “People like you have no imagination. It’s always ‘prepare for the worst, Mako’, or ‘keep your guard up, Mako’! Even you two get boring after a while, with your bounties and your hunts and whatever else you Mandalorians do in your free time...”

“Are you finished?” Auberil had begun to try and pry the floor panel open, with Torian on the opposite side of her assisting. “And you help with those hunts and bounties, you know.”

Mako didn’t respond, opting to watch as Torian and Auberil finally got the panel loose, throwing it aside. Laying on the ground, where the panel had been covering, was a datapad. Removing the panel must have triggered something in the datapad, because just as soon as they all looked back at it, a holo began to play. And what they saw...

Two dancing Ugnaughts.

Auberil was livid.

[eliterevy]

Zwei kleine zauberhafte Mädchen ergänzen die nun 6-köpfige Familie und fordern von ihren Eltern viele Nerven aber auch unzählige liebevolle Kuscheleinheiten.

Torian genießt jeden Augenblick, bevor er wieder zum nächsten Einsatz aufbricht: "Ich bin sicher, unsere beiden kleinen Kriegerinnen werden unserem Clan Ehre bringen... werdet groß und stark, während ich weg bin, und seid lieb zu eurer Mutter - sie ist das beste Vorbild, das ihr haben könnt."

[Star Wars - The Old Republic] - [Vorlage zum Bild -> not my art]

[dottiechan]

Phantom Limb Pt. 1 (Mrir’nittha’rrina (f!BH) x Torian Cadera)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three  | Part Four

Summary: After her mother was killed by Torian’s Mandalorian friend in a challenge, Mrir swore revenge despite the Mandalorian rules, plunging her marriage into despair. Written in Mrir’s POV.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, super mild swearing, breakup (I guess?)

(Art, OC, and fic belongs to me)

I don’t really remember the first hour after the holocall.

As I slowly come to my senses, I see broken datapads, wrecked canisters that previously held munitions or supplies, and shards of a Corellian whiskey’s bottle. Fuck, I should have drunk that instead of hurling it at the wall. Now the strong amber liquid is soaking the sharp glass pieces on the floor instead of the broken bits of my soul.

The ship is eerily quiet. Can’t blame the crew though - who the fuck wants to listen to yelling Mandalorians on their day off? They must have left, slipped out from the ship into the busy Rishi night one by one. I’d have done the same in their shoes. There was a time once when I lied to myself and I believed that we cared about each other as a team, but I am way past that point. We are hungry shells, rabid dogs looking for credits and pleasure and approval. We are the rats of the Galaxy, sticking together because no one else would have us.

My head is clearer now. I collect my numb limbs and push myself up from the cargo bay floor. That’s when I hear footsteps. Not the scurrying of Blizz or the gallant prancing of Gault, but the sound of a hunting predator’s feet. Cadera. A wave of hot rage washes through me. My mother was killed at the hands of his beloved vod and he has the nerve to tell me the fight was fair and backed by tradition. He tells me I have no right to seek revenge the way I would prefer. He said I had no honor when I’d told him I’d wring the life out of his precious Mandalorian friend in his sleep if I could. I think that was when I first hit him. But I really don’t know for sure.

What the fuck has happened to us in just a year? We used to fight together, not each other. How come that his face - the very face that used to make my heart swell with love - now only makes me more wrathful than the blasted Sith Emperor? Where did it all go wrong? At this point, I’m starting to doubt we ever truly loved each other.Torian only ever loved the Grand Champion, but not the scrawny Chiss wearing the title, and I only loved his care and admiration but not the man he was. Whatever might be the truth though, my fuzzy mind only knows one thing - I need him. Even if I want to strangle him sometimes with his sacred Mandalorian traditions, I need him.

Our eyes meet when he is halfway to the access hatch. I want him to be angry. I want him to shout and call me fool and I want him to push me into the wall and tell me I have no honor. But he just stares at me with those big blue eyes that make me weak in the knees and he does absolutely nothing. For a moment, I think he might apologize and take my hand and bite his lips in an ashamed way. However, I already know that’s never going to happen. The sadness in his eyes finally seeps into my soul and then I simply know what’s going to happen. I have a thousand reasons why I don’t want him to leave, but I can’t utter even one. He looks at me for a long moment, memorizing my every feature, before walking down the ramp and melting into the night sky.

I still sit on the stairs leading to the exit of the ship every night ever since he left, just like I did on the first. Some nights, Gault would join and he’d talk about Hylo and he’d bring a bottle of liquor and we’d drown in the stars. Other nights, I’d just sit alone, eyes glued to the metal door, while different people would sleep alone in my bed. 

They say you can still feel a phantom limb after you lose the real one, and it’s so damn true. Cadera’s everywhere: in my bed, in my beskar armor, in every punch I throw, in my drinks, in every woman and man I bring back to the ship in an intoxicated haze to make me feel like I’m not so fucking alone. I feel him breathe and move and hunt and pulsate somewhere in the Galaxy, leaving his mark everywhere he goes, just like he burned one into my skin the first time we met on Dromund Kaas. 

I know he is out there somewhere. But I also know that he is not coming back.

[qaashaa]

Out Among the Stars: Chapter 2

The briefing had been short and straight to the point, as Lana’s briefings usually were. Allies had been in contact, requesting aid; their planet was under attack. It felt like it was always the same story. Soon they were climbing back into armor, loading up weapons, and setting course for the next rescue mission. She couldn’t even remember the name of the planet this time. They were all starting to blur together in her memory. Boots on the ground, save the day, fly on to the next one. It was becoming routine. How does going out and saving the galaxy ever become routine?

Torian hadn’t said a word since they were interrupted in the med-bay, but that wasn’t incredibly unusual. She knew that it was more likely that he just had nothing to say, and he’d speak up eventually. She glanced across the narrow bridge, to where he sat. He looked relaxed, lanky frame slouched in the seat, eyes half closed, one hand resting on the distinctive helmet that balanced on his knee. She knew him better than to be fooled. His easy posture was nothing but a facade, hiding the tightly coiled spring that she knew lurked beneath.

“Cyare.”

She kept her voice pitched low, just above a whisper, not loud enough to carry through the ship, the word almost holding a sing-song quality. His response to her voice was immediate. She couldn’t hide her grin of satisfaction as Torian shot upright as if an electric current had suddenly run through his seat, head whipping around to find her, nearly losing his grip on his helmet in the process. Learning even a smattering of Mando’a was absolutely worth the effort for the reaction she always got from him when she used it.

The bounty hunter tugged off one of her gloves, and held her hand out across the narrow walkway that separated them. He returned her grin, pulling off one of his own gloves, and reached out to catch her hand in his, lacing his long and calloused fingers with her slender digits. If she had to go help bail out yet another planet, she was at least going to hold her husband’s hand, watch the stars stream by, and enjoy the ride on the way there.

After landing, there was a short hike across a rocky and inhospitable landscape, another short briefing, and then they were stepping back out into the harsh afternoon glare. She pulled on her gloves, and watched Torian settle his helmet into place.

“Ready?” She asked, eyes sliding over his familiar armored form. The bounty hunter couldn’t help but admire him, tall and lean, with the grey-silver gleam of beskar catching the light where the dark paint of his armor was scratched and scuffed. The man and the metal really were a lot alike, she mused. Bright and resilient, stronger than anything she could imagine, but hidden beneath an unobtrusive coat of paint that made it easy for most people to look right past him, seeing nothing remarkable. Just another Mandalorian, another soldier among many.

“Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur.”

Though his voice buzzed with the hollow modulation of his helmet, she could hear the wicked, knife-sharp edge of his grin. Today was, indeed, a good day for someone else to die. Her blood was singing, on fire with the bright battle song of her adopted people, and she would face it all with him at her side.

She rose up on tip-toes, reaching to catch the back of his helmet, and pulled his head down to hers, foreheads pressed together for a brief moment; a warrior’s kiss.

Without another word, or a backward glance, she turned and launched into a run, propelling herself down the hill on which the makeshift camp stood, and toward the flash of blaster fire, where the battle lines already clashed. She didn’t need to look, to know that he would be right behind her. He always was. As constant as the stars that wheeled through the heavens, was her Mando.

((Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37807573/chapters/95210644

Enjoy!!))

[crqstalite]

part 14, partner in crime #2 (torian && ba’shira)

bleh, this one’s kinda slow because it’s just torian thinking about ba’shira and ghenkl misaging them. probably will be re-written later lol.

written: 9.5.19. word count: 2,235

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: miss jackson, panic! at the disco

character file: ba'shira cadera, champion of the great hunt.

-

when they first met, ba'shira had flipped him onto his back and held him at gunpoint. all with some clever quip too, which is what he remembers most from that experience. other than the fact that the noise could've attracted some unneeded monsters, but the verdant green orbs of her that glowed in the darkness of the transport station took his mind off of his impending doom immediatly.

"i just wanted to see you again." she says so smoothly, turning around slowly as her hair just barely covers her eyes. she's quick, agile as she kicks his legs out from under him and flips him over with ease. "now what are you doing out here?"

torian is sure that's when he first fell in love with the companion to the champion.

(he's also halfway sure that at that point, she barely even knew his name. and intended to shoot him if he didn't answer.)

companion is the wrong word, the charming (if not also brazen) female bounty hunter is much more than just a side character. even if she didn't take the shot to end their target, ba'shira has been part of theksevoy's crew since the beginning (well, mako holds that title, but ba'shira claims a close second). they have a special relationship (one he's jealous of if he's being honest), they always know what the other's about to say, when the other needs backup, exactly when the other's beskar'gam needs cleaning or repair. she was part of his crew when the great hunt was still in session, and apparently often accompanied him to targets. like a brother and sister, the two do not take shit from anyone.

it's amazing. watching two of the galaxy's finest piggy back off each other (sometimes literally, the smaller female leaping off the taller male with her jetpack and proceeding to incinerate the surrounding area) it's something different than when she and torian are out alone.

stars, he really needs to stop thinking about his boss like this.

however, the dark haired woman made it clear she didn't want to be just his boss anymore. from the sly looks and coy answers to his questions, ba'shira isn't exactly shy about her desires. his first major fear was that she wasn't exclusive to him due to her less than conventional tactics to earn her way to the targets' names and locations, but it seems that fear was absolutely baseless. after his confession, he's not even sure she looks at other men or women.

or, can keep her hands off of him.

it makes him nervous, he'll admit that. she makes him nervous. he hasn't really known many other women in a romantic sense, but meeting a woman who wasn't born or raised mandalorian changes his outlook on the galaxy. she interprets their culture as she goes along, follows laws as loosely as possible. but, she doesn't hold back when it comes to him. ba'shira just leads, and he follows. the armored woman isn't afraid to either, as she yanks him by his armor to smash her lips on his.

stars, she is strong. he knows this too, watching her train and as they spar. she's fast, but muscular as well. her loose clothing hides it, but once she's in little more than a sports bra and sweatpants, he can see their excursions have turned her into a very brawny warrior. as the sweat shines off her forehead during their brawls and she straddles him, she asks him to call uncle before she releases his arms from her grip.

he can see their future going far.

"she still isn't down yet?" theksevoy startles him out of his thoughts, though he keeps his poker face up. the man is a hulking 6"3 beast, dark skin with blonde hair and caramel brown eyes. he stands quite a few inches taller than torian himself, and can lift so much more. at this point, he can see why the galaxy's most wanted is such an icon, women nearly chasing him down at every outpost they stop at.  "thought you guys were supposed to be gone like an hour ago."

"trying to get rid of us, champion?" he asks as thek chuckles.

"i'd never, torian. guess we're playing by the no curfew game again tonight, huh?" the older male asks, winking as torian tries to catch on to whatever joke he's trying to get across. "when can i expect you back?" he asks, once he realizes his sly joke flew right over the young mandalorian's head.

"depends on her." he answers. "if she stays out, i stay out." and that's true enough. torian would never come back without her.

"cool. don't do anything stupid. ghen needs this job." theksevoy answers, tucking his hands into his lounges and heading back up the stairs to his and mako's quarters. torian's mind wanders to the slicer that's the closest in age to him other than his partner. he's curious what's she's been up to lately. but, he'll catch up when he and ba'shira get back.

torian had yet to meet this ghenkl, though he figured she wouldn't be too much trouble if thek trusted him and ba'shira to arrange the details. she'd only been described as meaning well, if not a little all over the place. a tall, buff pale zabrak woman in a cantina should be easy enough to find. the only things he knows concrete about this woman is just that, and the fact she'll probably see them first.

"of course, champion." he answers, the other male disappearing back to his quarters after nodding. thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long for the woman of the hour once he hears her her boots clank on the durasteel of the mantis. she isn't dressed up, which isn't surprising (he never expects her to, and she hasn't broken that expectation except for once). she's got a mischeveous grin on her face as she takes his hand in hers.

"you ready to go, torian?" she asks, shaking out her messy ponytail and letting the shaggy haircut fall around her shoulders. the tawny curls accentuate her face in a way he can't describe as her eyes twinkle in the dim light of the mantis.

"always."

-

carrick station is busy, as always. when they disembark from the mantis, ba'shira is (as always) attracted to all the shiny new blasters the gtn is advertising. of course, she's also wary. (the last two nearly killed her and left her face wishing that she hadn't been swayed so quickly.)

of course, the two youngest members of the crew get distracted by all the weapons on display. now, ba'shira knows what torian has his eye on for life day, and intends to sneak back out later to retrieve the vibrostaff. it's not even close to the holiday yet, but even she knows she's gonna forget when it is.

they head down the cantina after they've wandered the expanse of carrick station for a bit. pulling out her holo, the photo of the zabrak woman is compared to everyone she can see. humans, more humans, a few twi'leks and torgutas mingle among each other. in the dim light, she's considering just spending the rest of her night and allowance on drinks for her and torian to spend the night out. his pale skin nearly shines in the yellow lighting, and she figures it'd look better with a few kisses of her painted lips on it.

"oi!" a voice makes her turn, and looking up a woman fitting the description is waving at her from an alcove above them in the vip area. "come on up, would you?"

she and torian share of look of confusion before heading up the elevator. the bouncer gives them a look at first before turning away in a gruff of approval. a moment later, they step out onto the vip area of carrick station, turning this way and that to find the woman who had been speaking to them. eventually, ba'shira finds the scantily dressed woman who wears little more than a bikini and a jacket over a pair of greaves and boots. she's sitting with a dark skinned male, who gives her a small grin. "ba'shira, yeah?"

"that's me." she says, pulling out a chair for torian before taking her own. "i presume you're ghenkl?"

"you'd be right." ghenkl responds. she's tall, taller than ba'shira had originally assumed, and buff enough to go along with it. in the back of her mind, she figures this is why she and thek are friends. "alright, now this elusive job thek couldn't come down and give me himself."

ba'shira looks around once, then twice before handing over the datapad with the details. she's already technically trespassing (the entire crew of the mantis is, in fact, on republic soil) and there's no reason getting into unnecessary trouble because of one little slip up. her contact grins, handing the datapad back. "just like the old days then."

"i'm sure it is. you want in?" ba'shira asks. ghenkl nods adamantly. "tell thek whenever he needs me, i'm ready to jump in."

"great." ba'shira says, moving to get up from the table.

"hey, wait a sec kid." ba'shira pauses, as ghenkl gestures to sit back down. "spend sometime with an old woman for a bit, yeah? you're legal aren't you?"

"i am." ba'shira says warily. "i should really get back though."

"bah, you take after thek. always so quick to leave the party. given, corso and i were just waiting for you two. but sit down for a bit, lets talk. we're going to be working together anyways." ghenkl says, hailing down a passing server droid and ordering a round of some unpronouncable drink. once she and torian take their seats again, ghenkl asks, "how long have you known thek anyways?"

"a couple of years. least since the great hunt." she answers. her features are dulled by how her hair covers her face. scars decorate her face as she smiles, the lines under her eyes crinkling. ba'shira wonders how old she is. "why?"

"just curious. wondering why he wouldn't come down and see me himself, but that's none of my business." ghenkl says sarcastically. "it's been so long since i saw him last."

"i'm sure he had something else to attend to, captain." corso says. he has an accent that ba'shira typically associates with backwater planets. she wonders where he's from. "'sure he'd be here if he could be."

she's also curious whether she should tell the smuggler that no, theksevoy had nothing better to be doing today. but, he had promised mako he'd take a day off and spend it with her, so she figures he did have something important to be doing. "he'd be here if he could."

"good to know. alright, i asked you one thing. got any questions for me?" ghenkl quizzes.

"how do you know theksevoy?" ba'shira asks, curious. it doesn't seem like the two of them would be good friends exactly, especially hearing that ghenkl is allied with the republic for the time being.

"we were lovers for a period of time. partners in mostly general crime now." she says lazily. the droid rolls back over to their table with drinks in it's metal claws, placing all four down on the table before rolling away again. "you drink, kid?"

"i'm not a kid." she feels like she's had this conversation with her boyfriend before when the words leave her mouth, but doesn't overthink it too much. "and not really."

"really?" she cocks an eyebrow like she doesn't believe her, turning her gaze to torian, who looks more bored than anything. "eh, suit yourself. who's this kid?"

"still, not a kid." ba'shira answers before torian can cut her off.

"ya'll look younger than you should be, alright?" ghenkl shrugs, sipping on her glass of alcohol. "too young to be involved in a war."

"torian cadera." her boyfriend answers before ba'shira can give a retort, "we're not kids."

"hey, didn't mean any offense." she says.

"how old are you?" ba'shira questions, crossing her arms over her breast plate. "calling us kids."

"thirty three." ghenkl throws back her cup, putting it back down on the table. "i'll be thirty four in a couple of months, why?"

ba'shira admittedly had not believed the smuggler would be that old. she'd assumed there had only been a few years seperating them, not nearly a decade. ghenkl definitely didn't look that old either. "what about him?"

"who me? twenty-six." corso answers. damn. he's still older than both of them. both she and torian were only twenty-two (torian was turning twenty-three soon), making them both really the youngest.

it's silent for a while longer before ba'shira really does make the motion to leave. "it's late, i think torian and i are just gonna go."

"alright then. don't be a stranger." the zabrak woman responds. "hope to see you around!"

ba'shira doesn't wave back. she's not scared of her, how much damage can she do to her, but rather wary. something she typically isn't of anyone. but, she's working so closely with them now, ba'shira can't help but be cautious.

"don't be too afraid." torian says just before they step back into the hangar, lacing his fingers into hers.

"i never am." she says, turning to face him. "don't worry too much about me, cyare."

"of course, shira." he responds, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she smiles, but not before pressing her lips to his.

[fer8girl]

39. “How long have you been standing there?”

Wow. The possibilities were almost endless with this one, but decided to give it to Sinn and Torian ^,^

Aright, so bein’ out in the field was nice but there was somethin’ about havin’ your own place. Sinn sighed happily as she bopped around her spacious kitchen, breathing in the scents of uj syrup and spices wafting through the air. Light filtered through the frost-covered windows - a testament to the lingering winter - but her kitchen was warm, toasty and brimming with delicious smells.

“The best thing about being a woman,” she sang while wiping the counters. “Is the prerogative to have a little fun.”

Grabbing a spoon from the nearby mixing bowl she licked off the leftover batter, then held it to her mouth like a microphone. 

“Oh, oh, oh, get in the action, feel the attraction. Color my hair, do what I dare.” She tossed the spoon back in the bowl, then leaned down to peer in at the baking cake, still singing. “Oh, oh, oh, I want to be free yeah, to feel the way I feel. Man! I feel like a woman!”

Satisfied that her culinary project was doing well she straightened up and whirled around…. only to face her tall, smirking husband. 

“Damn Baby!” Snatching the towel she’d left on the counter she whipped it at him and he caught it with a laugh. “Tryin’ to scare me outta my skin. How long you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know you ‘feel like a woman’,” he teased, his blue eyes twinkling. He inhaled deeply and when he caught sight of the mixing bowl his eyes glowed brighter. “Uj'alayi?”

“Maybe.” 

Her hand darted to snag the bowl but he got to it first. Sniffing again, he scraped free some remnants of batter and tasted it. An intrigued smile curved his mouth, “Different. What did you do?”

“Well since we discovered Corellian and Mando genes mix so nicely, I might have tried somethin’ similar in the kitchen. Took some practice to figure out the bakin’ times but the flavor’s alright and well, see for yourself.” 

She went to the counter and uncovered a small cake that smelled of uj syrup and Corellian rum. Less dense than the usual uj’alayi, it was still thick and heavily ladden with vweilu nuts and dried fruits. She cut off a slice and handed it to Torian, then watched intently for his reaction.

“Kinda a ryshcate/uj’alayi hybrid,” she said while he chewed thoughtfully. “Whatcha think?”

“Think I’ll ask you to make it more often,” he stated with a wide smile. “What do you call it?”

“Dunno yet,” she laughed partly in relief. “Had to make sure it was any good before givin’ it a name. You got any ideas?”

To her surprise he took another piece and pressed it between her lips with a knowing grin. His hands curved around her hips as he leaned in close enough that she could smell the rum and syrup on his breath. “Sweet, spicy, intoxicating. Only one thing I could think to call it.” He brushed his mouth to hers, the promise of a kiss, then whispered, “Sinn-ful.”

[cinlat]

Chapters: 29/? Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Rating: Mature Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper, Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan, Vector Hyllus/Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Lana Beniko/Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Female Smuggler/Koth Vortena, Elara Dorne/Male Republic Trooper, Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Male Sith Warrior, Andronikos Revel/Female Sith Inquisitor, Female Sith Inquisitor/Kaliyo Djannis Series: Part 4 of Meet Me On The Battlefield Word Count: Total (136,954) Chapter (5,092)

A/N: Shout out to @dimigex​ for her awesome betaing skills, and @kunoichi-ume​ for letting me borrow her Jedi.

Summary: Verin is forced to acknowledge that he's an adult. Fynta is...well, Fynta. Torian spends time with the most interesting Jedi. And, Jorgan get's a little piece of mind.

Darvannis After Party  

Verin assumed Fynta would be in the midst of the party, singing loudly and off tune with the rest of the di'kuts who drank themselves stupid. Making for the largest gathering, Verin spotted Torian standing shoulder to shoulder with a waif of a woman clad in something that wouldn't stop a papercut, much less a blaster bolt. It could only be the Jedi that Verin had heard so much about.

Strolling up to the two, Verin craned his neck to see what had gathered so many Mandalorians. Before he could ask, Torian leaned around the woman. "I'll have the net'ra gal moved to your tent after tomorrow's battle."

Two cases of black ale had been the stakes in their bet. Verin grinned at his chief. "What did she do?"

The woman answered with an amused twist of her lips. "Challenged Khomo. But, what's a koot-tay?"

Torian laughed, then covered it with a cough. "Kute is what we call under armor." His next words were directed at Verin. "Hand to hand, no armor or weapons. If he wins, she'll let him call her an aruetii–outsider," Torian corrected for their guest's benefit. "If she wins, he gives up the crushgaunt."

"Fierfek," Verin spat. That was the last thing he needed. Verin cursed again when his comm chimed. Fishing it from the pocket on his belt, he answered without checking the ID. "I'm a little busy at the moment."

"That's what I was afraid of," Aric answered, and Verin looked down with horror to find Fynta's husband on the line. No, that was the last thing he needed. "Fynta hasn't been answering her comm. Should I ask?"

The Jedi leaned closer to smile at the irritable Cathar. "Probably not. But, I promise, she will come home in one piece."

Verin groaned audibly this time and rubbed a hand down his face. He caught the wary expression that Torian cast around them, reminding Verin that while they'd come a long way, a Cathar would still cause a sensation amongst so many Mandalorians. Especially after copious amounts of alcohol.

"Aric," Verin began. "You knew what you were getting into when you married my sister." He held the device up so that the Cathar could make out two figures circling in the middle of a growing mob. Lowering his comm when he heard the telltale snarl of a man who continuously expected better from a woman who could never deliver, Verin shrugged. "I can't do a damn thing about it."

"Noara, please keep her from getting herself killed," Aric replied, and the woman between Verin and Torian leaned back into the shot to offer a reassuring smile. Focusing on Verin again, Jorgan's shoulders slumped. "Just have her call me when she's done. Or maybe let me know if she's unconscious."

Laughing, Verin nodded. "You've got it." When the line cut, he hooked the holo to his belt and focused on the fight. "So, who's your credits on?"

Read more on Ao3 or FFN

[istanbulite]

New Bonds

Shiny.

Nino glanced down at the worn out vanity table in front of her or especially the tiara that rested on it. 

So different from its surroundings, glittering dully even under the gloomy darkness of the abandoned castle. She drummed her fingers restlessly against the wooden surface, the only sound in the room except for the hustling and moving about of Torian who had taken upon himself to cut some bits and pieces from the beast they had just hunted. In other words, the owner of the castle. But considering it had slaughtered half of the folks living near, Nino felt no guilt even as her fingers left bloody fingerprints on the wood. An odd creature. Lots of credits. 

A proper honeymoon if anything. 

In the abandoned room the large mirror decorating the table seemed to be the only thing intact, old and dirty but it still showed a proper reflection, not a pleasant one of course - just who could look pleasant after running through the wilderness for weeks - but an image nonetheless. Her hair was coming around in dirty curls around an equally dirty face, some tendrils stuck to her cheeks and red bright eyes calmly stared back. Looking foolishly happy, energetic despite the constant stream of activity. Unlike her usual self. Or maybe looking like herself more than she ever did. And in an impulse, she put the tiara on her head.

Anyone would be curious. Right?

It proved a stark contrast at least. Amusing. The thin band, very different from ones she owned in her younger days - thankfully left behind an eternity away - looked hilariously out of place with her armour, weapons and all the filth covering them. Just a line of clear looking crystals brought together, nothing else. Red fingerprints standing out on the glass where she held it.

Before she could catch a proper look, a call made her jump in place much to her embarrassment,

‘I’m don..- Nino?’

‘H.- Hi!’ She turned around to catch the sigh of her husband instead, covered in god knows what from chest to boots, and once again felt grateful he had insisted on doing it himself. She wasn’t the sort of woman who’d to shy away from the worst of the works except when it came to cutting down beasts...- Not if she could help it.  A sort of a wedding gift in his odd ways, Nino supposed but a welcome one. He looked at her, amused,

‘Looting, cyare? New habits?’

‘I was just trying it on!‘ she defended herself ‘That’s all’, and to prove her point took off the jewellery - or tried as it got stuck on her dry, matted hair, ‘Ow! Give me a moment. Ugh-I’

‘Let me.’ he appeared right beside her, smiling quietly, cute enough that it did not grate on her nerves but still she shook her head and turned her head to hide her smile, with the mirror on her side it hardly helped, however, it helped her to see his hands before he could touch her head - thankfully. She winced  ‘Uh. No. You’re not touching my hair with those'

‘Think you look better?’

‘Hey!’ she looked back, ‘That’s how you speak to your bride? '

‘Right.’ he nodded, mock-serious, ‘My apologies.’ Then he moved away to unclasp his gauntlets and Nino felt her face round into a smile, laughing quietly at the intent expression on his face. ’See?’ she quipped, ‘This is what you're putting with all your life. Sorry. I fooled you into it.’ A hint of insecurity seeping into the cheerful tone of her voice, not unnoticed by Torian.

‘Can’t wait.’ he smiled openly this time, rubbing his hands together once they were bare, the skin of it red and rough looking - bruised with all the work they’ve been doing and Nino felt a strong affection bubbling in her chest and she stared at them, distracted before he leaned in closer to cup her face, his hands, as always, hot against her face, ‘You really shouldn’t.’ she warned even as she nuzzled closer to his fingers like a cat, making him laugh ‘I’m covered in dirt.’

‘Hmh.’ he nodded with the same mock-serious expression, ‘Doesn’t matter.’ As if to demonstrate his sentence, he fondled her face affectionately, almost petting, brisk enough that she could feel the hard points and scars on his hands rasp against her cheeks and she turned her hand to press a forceful kiss against his palm before he removed his hands and turned to him just in time to see a small boyish smile appear in his filthy face. He reached for the top of her head finally and glanced at her before he started detangling the tiara, as gentle as he can,

‘You’re really beautiful.’

‘Wh..-’ Nino felt her jaw slacken at the sudden, blunt compliment, as straightforward as the man who said it, who was now staring intensely at her face; before she could thank him however he continued, ‘I wanna ask you something.’

‘Yes?’

He took a deep breath, ‘Do you want a wedding?’

‘Huh?’ oddly enough the first thing Nino felt was a slight panic, ‘Aren’t we married already? What were the vows then?’

‘We are.’ he answered as fast as she had asked, ‘Definitely. But seeing with this...thing.’ he shook his head, ‘I never thought if you'd want a wedding. I know your people - other people. Chiss. They have weddings. You had a wedding before. I remember. You mentioned it, I mean.’

‘Please don’t remind me of that disaster.’ Nino said before she could think and realize thoughtful gesture, any mention of that cruel abomination of marriage brought only an intense urge to puke.

‘Sorry.’ he said sincerely. ‘I don’t mean to.’ he reached out to take her hand then, not minding her blood smeared gloves, ‘If you want...We can. ‘ he shrugged and held out the now free tiara, ‘This. Dress.’

‘Dress? You like dresses?’ Nino asked stupidly. Surprised and fazed. Brain malfunctioning on how she was supposed to react. Overwhelming.

‘As long as I’m not wearing one.’

She could chuckle at that, breaking out of the frozen trance she had delved into with the mention of a wedding,

‘I...I think you’d look nice. You should try sometime. Very...- roomy.’

‘Yeah?’ he raised a brow, ‘For you, maybe. Has to be a pretty dress.’

Nino laughed again, leaning closer to rest her head on his shoulder, making him wrap his arms around her for a moment, as much as their armour would allow, ‘Trust me.’

‘Always.’ he said and his arms tightened for a second, their armour clanking together, uncomfortably, ‘So...Wedding? Think I could afford something to remember, at least.’

Nino had to think for a long second, impressed, but utterly disinterested. 

Even the mention of a formal event and a dress made her remember. She didn't want to taint this one with the memory of her past even just for a second. But the thought alone, in her warped sense of romance had touched her so thoroughly she felt her eyes tear up and to hide it, she urgently lifted her head, leaning in to kiss him so passionately she was sure all the thoughts of marriages and dresses had left him - and her - by the time she pulled away, going by the dazed love-struck expression on his face. He took a deep breath before leaning to kiss her again, hands forcefully tangling in her hair and pulling on the knots, Nino winced, her fingers grasping at the throat of his chest plate, frustrated at its presence, and he pulled her even closer to the point where she felt blissfully unaware of anything that wasn't him. And before really thinking about it she grasped his belt...-

And he let go. Quickly. Red-faced and gasping, he took a step back, ‘We shouldn’t.’ he shook his head, ‘Not here.’

‘Right.’ she nodded, equally disrupted, ‘We’ll catch something.’ her eyes shyly travelled his form, ‘Sorry about.-’

He chuckled at that, amused, ‘Nino...You’re so..-’ he shook his head, ‘So...What do you think? Yes?’

‘No.’

‘No?’ he seemed almost shocked at that, ‘Thought that was a very positive reaction.’

‘Well...Yeah.’ Nino admitted, ‘I’m just...I just thought it was very nice of you. Very nice, even. But I don’t want a wedding, Torian. I really don’t. I don’t want anything but you, actually.’

She felt her heart hurt at the brief surprise at his face but then it was replaced with a smile, quickly. Warm and loving, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good.’ she said, grasping his hand, ‘And you’re stuck with me. I’m sure we can manage.’

Before he could reply though she backed out of the room, ‘I’ll go collect your stuff.’

‘Sure you want to?’

She looked at the skinned monster, the bloodbath and barely repressed a sigh, he deserved that much at least, ‘Yeah, yeah...You go put on your gloves. I’m filthy as it is.’

Torian waited until she went to the next room before looking back at the jewellery, to the door, and to the jewellery again. 

Then he took it.