Aftermath of the Arena

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Orange Twi'lek. Arena on Nar Shaddaa. Ownership transferred. Someone had stopped him on his way out of the arena the other day; told him he needed to start finishing up paperwork. That had elicited a pair of narrowed eyes and a very scared employee.

Turns out the revenge of the Twi'lek was giving him a business to look after. Whatever, that's what managers were for. Besides, at least it was something he knew how to do; manage fighters.

Still, he wanted to know why, and that meant hunting down the Twi'lek.

Which brought him to a casino some distance away that she was purported to check up on from time to time. A forearm to a throat, a few angry words, and she'd have been notified of what was going on.

An angry Mandalorian wanted to see her. Although angry was subjective; it's not like one could see his face.

But she'd seen it. She's know who it was. He'd been directed to what he presumed was a private office and that's where he was headed. Stupid aliens.

Stupid businesses.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Chiasa did not take the news that there was an irate Mandalorian here to see her well at all. An immediate sensation of dread passed over her, though all she said was a simple,

"I see."

She could only think of one Mandalorian on Nar Shaddaa who had anything to do with her, and she did not particularly want to see him at all. Ever. She'd assumed she'd never see him again. He'd stay down his with arena and his honour, and she'd stay up here, far away from that sector of the moon. The bruises and scrapes were gone, a private clinic and a bacta tank had seen to that, since she could not do business so blatantly wearing the signs of her failure. Perhaps on Antecedent where the Ravens were firmly entrenched she could have, but not here. Their roots didn't run deep enough yet.

She did not even bother to keep her droids with her when she was in either of 'her' casinos, trusting that the security would do their job. The Golden Nautolan was not the Dragon Palace however, either in tech or in employees. It was still being upgraded. Would the security staff have been brave enough to disarm him? Unlikely and even if they had. A hand moved unconsciously to hover over newly healed ribs. Even if they had it wouldn't make a lick of difference, he was still dangerous.

But this was her space, and these were her newly minted employees looking at her expectantly. What else could she do? Oh no, actually you're new employers are weak. Rebel. Steal. Dissent. She could not have such consequences on her head.

So she walked to the office that was hers when she was here, face calm and chin high, composed and confident as ever in an elegant black dress that accentuated her own colouring, until she entered the room and saw him, and was struck by a brief flash of panic. Now what? Door open so that help could come more quickly, or shut so she did not have to worry about what the uncertain employees might or might not see?

Damn him!

With an internal curse she closed the door behind her, the built in privacy field activating as soon as it was shut.

"You wanted to see me?"

She asked, turning back to face him. Her voice was even, for which she was thankful, even if she could not bring herself to step any closer. Not even the promise of a solid desk between him and her could convince her traitorous legs to step forward and move past him.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Inhaling faintly, standing before her desk in martial fashion - stiff back, hands clasped behind him - his head lifted as she stepped through the door. But then she came no further, and as was often the case of women in his presence, she seemed unable to decide what to do with him.

In his younger days that had been tied to his appetites, involving a near revolving door of women who ultimately fell in love with him after a few nights for one reason or another. They stood still because they anticipated a heated, dominating lover.

Others, like her, stood still out of fear. Perhaps of punishment, or violence.

It mattered very little to him.

His crushgaunts lifted, pulling his helmet free to set on her desk before he moved over towards her. A respectful distance, of course, but he wasn't going to hold a conversation at half a rooms distance.

That was, quite frankly, impolite.

"I can see you." He retorts dryly. "Why the arena." He states flatly.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

As he moved forward she drew herself up slightly, exhaling through her nose. Not in the manner of one who intended to fight, but of one who wanted to back up and knew there was a solid door behind her. At least with his helmet off he was a little easier to read. Not much, quite frankly she rarely ran into beings with poker faces as good as his, and he didn't even seem to be trying. She settled slightly when he stopped moving again, but it was fair to say she was not happy about being in an enclosed space with him.

There were people all over the galaxy who fought every day, and for whom physical pain was no stranger. The Twi'lek was definitely not one of them. Even before she'd seen to her own emancipation, she'd never been beaten. Her looks were too valuable an asset to risk after all. Punishments had come in more subtle manners. The few fights she'd been involved in with the Ravens, she'd been either coordinating, or slipping around the edges of the fight, darting in, striking and then pulling away. For a Mandalorian what she'd gone through at his hands was likely nothing. No real wounds, no broken bones, she'd walked away from it intact. For her it was her first and only brush with real pain. And he'd done it in a public venue, adding shame to the mix.

She looked down and away from him after the question was asked. Why? Did there have to be a reason? Because she'd felt obligated to.

"Because you won."

Would that answer it for him? Would it be enough? She didn't know. She didn't entirely understand her reasoning herself, just that she'd felt it was necessary and fitting. Hopefully his damned honour wasn't catching, she couldn't afford it.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"We had no wagered the spoils of enterprise." He retorts dryly, shaking his head. With a sigh, he turned around and moved to heft his helmet in one gauntlet. It dangled from the fingertips of his hand as his arm came to rest at his side.

It would seem the Twi'lek had been a stranger to fighting after all. Her previous demeanor was gone, replaced with the still feel of someone who had gone through a traumatizing experience. Perhaps his lesson had been too bold.

Or perhaps it hadn't taken hold properly yet.

He would likely never know for sure.

Approaching her again, he invaded her personal space, towering above her by a good margin. She looked so frail from up close. Almost like a doll. Pretty, but breakable. A hand rose, finger pressing to one side of her cheek to shift her head.

"You've healed well. I'm glad." His hand was retracted swiftly, as though the idea of being so forward with touch didn't sit well with him. He gave a nod. "The arena is yours should you want it. Or have I ruined the endeavor for you."

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Her head rose as he moved closer, wide eyes on him. Not again. She did not want to again. Not here. This was supposed to be like a home. This was supposed to be safe. The faintest of tremors in back and shoulders as tensed as they could get when he raised his hand, bringing his finger to her face. She did not pull away from him, and allowed him to tilt her head, but there was just the briefest of flashes in her eyes, if he was paying attention. She'd been cowed yes, but if he pressed too far she would still fight. She was afraid of him, but not so afraid that she would submit completely.

"It is done. The deed is changed. You said,"

She looked away again, down, voice not quite as sure as it had been.

"you said, it would be sullied by one like me."

Her voice firmed slightly, one hand clenching into a fist before being forced through strength of will to open and relax.

"You proved your point. You won. It's yours, let it stay unsullied. You get what you wanted."

So why are you here? What do you want from me now? Unclean and unworthy as I may be I cannot let you chase me all the way from this moon. What more do you want?

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

A palm set on her upper arm, giving it a very light squeeze to get her to lift up her head. She was cowed, it seemed, but not in the manner he'd hoped. Certainly he'd overstepped his mark. "I was not even aware you owned it. There are many private areas, and no news had reached my ear."

Hand dropping away, a shoulder lifted into a shrug. "Apologies." For what, he didn't say, but it could be presumed it was not anticipating just who she was. It certainly put to light why she had hastily transferred it over.

But no one expected an arena owner to be a thickly muscled brute. Said brutes were the people being paid to fight, not paying the fighters.

There was a faint blink to his blank expression. "What I want is not something I have ever truly known. But what I wanted was for some humility from you." His expression softened, ever so slightly.

"Any who has fought, clawed and scraped to get where they are is proud. But sooner or later all learn that arrogance will be your undoing. I would rather teach that lesson without death than see a pretty face consigned to obituaries."

A statement of fact rather than an attempt at flirtation.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

A frustrated noise escaped her and she did look up. The exasperated look was probably not what he was hoping for.

"Humility? When precisely was I not? Was I to come dressed in rags? You came up to me and told me it didn't matter who I was! It was not I who approached you. By your own admission you did not know who I was! And you felt justified in passing judgement on me."

No she wasn't particularly humble, but she could not actually think of what she'd done to incense him so. If anyone seemed arrogant in this situation..

"If you've taught me anything it's to hell with honour and fair fights when you are outmatched. The universe is not fair. There is no point in me trying to be fair, it will only end in pain."

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"Then you did learn something at least. Attack when you have the advantage. People assume honor is fighting fair. It can be, in some ways. But honor exists only in giving your opponent time to defend themselves. Beyond that... well, a fight is a fight, and when life is on the line there's little honor matters for."

He shrugged again. "A gut feeling. I have a lot. I act without thought most times. A folly of mine. But I know what I see and I see what I know, and if I know anything as a Mandalorian... it's pride. And its sinister brother, arrogance."

This time, one corner of his lips quirked upward. "I did not come here, however, to badger over who is right or wrong. I merely wished to know the reasoning behind this most recent acquisition of mine. And to tell you that, given time, you have the tools necessary to defend yourself in such a fight in the future; you need only hone them. Because just as you do not fight fair, neither will your opponents. I've always found it best to be ready to win a fair fight, because even the most underhanded of duels will become 'honorable' in time. Everything comes into the open, sooner or later. Even fights."

There came a sigh.

"I'm not sure why I'm bothering to say these things to you, but you aren't the first person to get angered by my words.I speak from experience, nothing else. Take it or leave it. It is of no concern to me anymore."

His eyes lifted towards the door, and then back down to her. Gaze lingering on her, he smirked faintly.

Orange twi'lek. Black striping. He just now put conscious thought to how... rare that was. He'd not laid eyes upon one like it in memory.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"Yes, do pardon me while I go enter my name in all the upcoming underground fights so I can be beaten by men twice my size in the interest of honing my skills. I will get right on that."

Came the deadpan reply. Yes, it would likely be good to be at least a little better at hand to hand combat, because clearly you never knew, but quite frankly she intended to avoid such situations even more fervently now that she knew what the consequences of them felt like. And apparently he'd been playing nice. Besides, who would she trust such training to? The ones she'd trusted most had literally disappeared. Declan, one of the heads of security back on Antecedent perhaps. He was no Mandalorian though, and even if she learned what he knew she doubted it would be enough to make a difference.

"I am not.. angered by your words."

I'm angered by the fact that you turned everything upside down. That you made everything unsafe. That I can never feel secure again. You or someone like you can always just walk in and show me to be nothing. Take everything I worked so hard for. Tear down this little castle I built for myself brick by brick.

"I hear you. Do as you will."

The glance from the door behind her to her was clear. He was done and had made his point and now he wanted to leave. Well and good. She had pieces to put back together, a necessary facade to reconstruct. She stepped around and past him and paused. Back to him. Testing her own nerve. She did not like not seeing him. Words exchanged or not, leave taken or not, her body remembered him and what he'd done, and did not like having him behind her. But she could not be jumping at every musclebound being that stood too close or shaking at her own shadow. Just a few more breathes and he would surely leave.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Just as he was about to open the door, he paused, turning around. Her words gave pause, a frown creasing his face in the moments before he presented himself to her. "Then what are you angered by." He asks.

A simple enough question, but it was the fact people didn't ask that often lead to assumed answers. Ones that were wrong and did little to help the cause. Only by asking could one be certain.

Perhaps she was angered that he'd shown up. Or, perhaps, she was simply angry at her security for letting him in in the first place.

But, too, part of him was curious why she stopped when he hadn't left the room. Anticipating something, perhaps? He wasn't sure. Curiosity pulled at his mind and for once he found himself tempted to stay until thought was given voice.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

He wasn't leaving. She could feel her heart speeding up.

Be still, coward.

She chided it.

He has made no aggressive moves yet. There are security just outside...

...just outside the door you closed, past the privacy field you had installed.

His question surprised her, that he had been paying attention enough to catch it. She glanced back over her shoulder to where he still stood and considered him for a few moments. Considered the answer, and what she was willing to give up. It seemed so little had been left to her. Finally she looked away from him, turning her eyes forward once more. Her arms raised to wrap around herself.

"I am angry because you made the world unsafe. I suppose it was before, but I did not know it then."

How much of her job was based on appearances. How often had the mask of confidence saved her life? Could she still preform? Would she have been able to stand before the Sith and sneer and bully them into what she'd wanted if she'd known how much there was to be afraid of? When she had to deal with new criminals, would they sense her weakness? What would she do if they did? What could she do?

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"I have imposed upon you reality, then. Torn down your defense." Judging by the way she'd stilled at his words, he'd hit something. But he wasn't entirely sure even when she looked back over her shoulder at him.

And then her arms wrapped around himself, and he knew exactly what he'd done.

In fairness, it's what he had planned on doing, but he'd not considered that she was putting on a facade. He'd just assumed her to be an arrogant twit undeserving of her feelings of pride. Technically, he hadn't been wrong.

It was the reason for it he'd misjudged.

A frown appeared yet again. Coming up behind her, a few inches away, he looked down at her, unsure if he should attempt to console her or not. His hand twitched faintly, caught between soothing and staying where it was.

"If I have opened your eyes, then that is good. But do not take from it unbearable weight. Instead take from it strength. With the parting of the clouds comes the sun, and while at first it may blind, in time you will find your vision all the better for it."

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

She tensed again as she heard him approach, chin dropping to her chest, arms holding herself a little bit tighter. And then he stopped. He was close, she could feel the subtle air currents shifting as he did. Suddenly she didn't know what she wanted. Did she want him gone or did she want his arms instead of hers? He frightened her still, because there was nothing she could do to stop him either way, but she was also.. Lost, scared and alone. And this was a new feeling for her. No. That was not entirely true. This was a feeling she'd felt once before and made every effort to forget. She'd felt this when she finally realized her family was not coming back for her. That she'd been sold, just a thing. Then it had been the sanctity and safety of family that she lost. Now it was her belief in herself. No safety from without and none from within..

She wished they'd never taken this damned moon. That it had been left to rot on it's own. She answered and her voice was barely above a whisper, fighting for control, fighting to stay even and free of emotion.

"You will pardon me if I do not thank you for it."

What strength? Easy for him to say, anyone could look at him and now that he was strong. He had proven that she was weak. The way he had just walked into her territory had driven it home.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

A hand turned to fist, and he set his helmet to hang from one of the loops of his belt. "I've never asked for, nor wanted, thanks in my life." He'd never thought of it until then, but it was true. At no point had he ever done something in the name of helping others.

He did it because he wanted to, and if it just so happened to serve the greater good - and it usually did - so be it. And it was this acknowledgement of selfish intent that sought him to not remind people of what he'd done for them, or why they should look up to him.

Frankly, he didn't want to be looked up too.

He was just a tired Mandalorian who'd done too much, too quick and had become world weary as a result.

But at his core he was still the man he'd been in decades past. And that man slowly encircled his arms around her waist to draw her back against his armor, arms resting atop hers as he did so.

"Steel yourself, miss. I'm considered gentle by most." That wasn't a sexual remark, instead, it was a reminder that while he'd shattered her world, he was hardly considered an impressive threat to anyone.

He had respect, but he was not feared, not like most - and he certainly wasn't what anyone would consider aggressive, at least on the whole.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

For the moment the fight was gone out of her. It would undoubtedly be back, she was too much of a survivor to go around being crushed and despairing for very long, but for now.. She let him draw her back against him. Armour did not exactly have the comforting warmth of another body, but at the very least it was reassuringly solid. She might have been small and weak but at least in this exact moment there was a barrier between her and the rest of the galaxy and all the threats it held.

"Chiasa."

Was the response. He'd told her to call him Bear, and she'd found his birth name herself, but she'd never told him hers. She supposed if he'd found her it was likely he knew it but all the same.

Her nose wrinkled slightly at the thought of him as gentle. She supposed he could be gentle, but quite frankly she did not find it particularly reassuring that she'd been utterly beaten by someone who could be classified as gentle.

Her arms shifted, ever so slightly, turning, so her hand were on his arms instead of herself. He couldn't feel it through the armour anyway right? That was all right then, he didn't need to know how desperately she was holding on.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

His lips quirked, hands shifting to undo the strapping of his gauntlets. Pulling them off, he settled his arms back around her again, this time with rough palm pressing against the black fabric she wore.

She felt like a scared little girl, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to it. He'd always been protective, and perhaps that's what women liked about him. He'd never put much thought into it.

A faint sound came from his throat at the utterance of her name, but he simply stroked his thumb against her stomach as he sought to sooth the woman before him. Be scared no more, even of the man in the room with you.

With every breath, the metal pushed out against her, before his breath blew down against her head. Right now, he wanted to feel the heat of her body pressed to his; a base urge he'd never been able to control.

And it showed as the stroking thumb became stroking fingers and the breath became a bit heavier as his heart started to pick up its pace a bit.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

It was okay to accept comfort just this once, wasn't it? It was private, no one else would know, only him. Besides, he would likely leave afterwards and that would be that. She would not be going down to his arena, and chances were now that he had his answer he would not be coming up here again. He already knew that she was weak, what harm if it was reinforced? Just this once, then she would weave a new mask to replace the one he'd shattered and go out to face the Universe. It would not be so fine, not so sturdy as the one she'd worn before, which had been even better and more comfortable than her own skin, but it would do.

Haltingly, tentatively, her hands moved, fingers finding the back of his hands, exploring the texture of his skin. The contrast between the warmth of his palms and fingers where they moved over the thin black fabric and the chill and hardness of his armour only served to heighten her awareness of him.

This was.. not a thing she did often. Or in truth, at all. Her body was a tool to be used to accomplish what she wanted. Seduction was a skill, a job. It was not.. It was not intimate. It was not for comfort. To do what she did now to bind him to her, to make use of him, that she could understand and be at ease with. To do it because for this one moment in time she could not stand to be alone.. Was this what it was like for everyone else in the galaxy? It was terrible, and wonderful.

She could feel as his breath became heavier, the rhythmic inhalations and exhalations washing over her in waves of heat and chill. She wanted.

She looked back and up at him, and opened her mouth to speak, but for a moment was silent. What was the correct thing to say? What was the protocol? Her eyes, as they searched his were not afraid, though the fear lingered, skirting around the edges of her mind, but they were tentative, uncertain. Finally a single word, that escaped almost against her will, as she leaned back into him, one hand tightening over his.

"Please."

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[Chiasa Kritivaas]

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Leaning down, he started slotting armor back into place. There was no point in staying, even if he wanted to. What was he going to do? Watch her file paperwork? No. No reason to stay. Not that she'd want him to stay.

Not that he wouldn't, but... whatever it was they were doing, it didn't scream 'stay and hold me' to him in any fashion. No words left his mouth, as none could form. He was still in a bit of a pleasant mental haze.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

As soon as he moved away, she sat up. She watched him for a moment as he started putting his armour back on face unreadable. It was quickly replaced by a pleasant, satisfied, semi-amused expression. There were different kinds of armour after all. She rose, pulling down and straightening the dress, feet found heels, and just like that she was presentable for the moment, if a little sweaty.

Go. Go now. Act now. While you are strong, while you are brave. I do not know how long it will last..

She mentally berated herself. He still wasn't quite geared up yet. Approaching she gave him a gentle pat on the cheek and a quick kiss.

"Good job soldier. Now I have to go, I'm very busy on account of being so terribly important you know."

That last was said with very clear sarcasm and irony. Arrogance and pride. Well, fair enough. She moved to the door, pausing to look back once.

"If you ever want anything, you know where I am."

Dammit! Need! She'd meant to say need! To the Nether with her traitor mouth. He had offered to come if she asked for him before, it was polite to do the same, but no. Want. Hells.