Bite the Bullet

[Tamara Wren]

She'd been avoiding him since the Sith Ball. She wasn't ignoring him. But avoiding where possible, absolutely. She'd answer if he said something, gone when he'd told her to with the others to Commenor. It wasn't that far off of how she had been since her return. Withdrawn, mostly silent unless spoke to. To anyone else, it would barely be noticeable. Not obvious that the daughter of the clan A'lor was avoiding him.

But she had no illusions that [member="Ronan Vizsla"] wasn't aware of it.

He was irritating like that.

Tam sighed. That wasn't fair or true. Well, the irritating part. Her father was just... her father. He was a difficult man, a hard one. But he had, and had always, done his best for his daughter. It was uncharacteristic for her to act like this, and she knew it. Didn't change that she just wasn't ready to talk to him.

Had this feeling ultimately prompted her visit to [member="Julian Imani"]? Would she have gone, if she hadn't been angry? She didn't know. She wasn't sorry she had.... for so many, many reasons. But it was time now to talk to him. To tell him what she was about to do. The idea of trying to keep it from him didn't even cross her mind. He was her father. The loyalty and love ran deep, far deeper than the anger. The anger had been a reminder that she could FEEL.

And led to the discovery that she wanted to feel more still.

Of course she was going to tell him. Would she talk about why she had been angry? She wasn't sure yet. But with the risks of what she was on the edge of doing, he had to know. At least what she did.

She paused outside the door to his room. With a soft sigh, she reached up and knocked.

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

He knew her heartbeat from the day she, smol and vulnerable, had been placed against his chest.

Knew the sound she made when her boots tapped against the floor.

[member="Tamara Wren"] didn't need say it was her for him to know.

He was irritating like that.

"You can enter, Tam." For the others it was Koda or Vilaz Munin or Jetii, but Tamara had always been Tam to him. Or his little runi. When to others he was hard, harder than concrete, to her he was... well. Compared to the softness of the Coreworlders Ronan was probably still daunting, but softer than anyone would expect him to be. Tamara would find him writing something on a piece of paper. Which was probably a surprise in and off, seeing as Vizsla had never much enjoyed doing things like... this.

Always hands-on.

Speaking when commands were to be made.

But the moment she stepped in the paper was put to the side. He always made time for her. Those eyes, pitch black like dark coal, looking up and watching her.

"Yes?"

 

[Tamara Wren]

He'd always known when it was her. She couldn't remember a time when she had managed to surprise him (not that she was trying now, but ever). Sometimes when she was little she thought she had, but realized far later that he had always just played along. They were many years past a tiny, dark haired girl stalking him from behind the furniture, trying to catch him unaware.

The memory of it was keen and took her unaware. That rarely happened, a moment recalled with clarity without an outside reminder. It had happened a couple of times, the week, and always left her paused, sinking into the memories she hadn't even known were lost when they did occur.

When she got that shard back, would she remember everything she had forgotten? Was the slow return of the Shadowman with that piece, tethered and connected, what was making it happen at all?

Or something else?

She didn't know.

Stepping into the room, her eyes swept- reflexive. He'd taught her that and it was ingrained the way a smile of greeting might be in someone else. She glanced at the paper, then at her father.

"Do you have a minute? If not I can come back."

Tam had already made up her mind by this point. Whatever doubt she'd had when she was talking with [member="Irella Vizsla"] and [member="Koda Fett"] had been settled. She was here to tell him what she was doing- not to ask for permission. He nodded- not a man of wasted words, Ronan Vizsla.

She breathed in slightly, but there was no hesitation. She had thought about it, what to say, and beating around the bush was the opposite of useful when it came to her father.

"When [member="Darth Carnifex"] brought me back, a piece of me was left behind." There was no blame, for either of them. Just clear explanation. "It's why everything was so different. Why I am different. I found someone who can help, and I plan on fixing it. There are risks, and we don't know how it will turn out yet. But I wanted to tell you, so you knew. Just in case."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

He waited patiently for her to get on with it.

In truth Ronan assumed she'd come here to finally talk about her anger and frustration. He knew it had to do with Irella -- the way her nose flaired when those keen eyes of her noticed them together -- but Vizsla wasn't entirely sure what made her that angry. The fact that she had come for something else. That. Took a moment to make him consider. It was clear, from her wording, that she wasn't looking for permission.

And why would she?

Grown woman.

Fierce.

Knew her duty and all that came with it. The girl that had abandoned it in a flight of emotion was left behind. Who was Vizsla to tell her what to do, especially if it would... 'fix' her. Some part of Ronan liked her the way she was. It was easier in some ways. But harder in others. This was not the daughter he had known for two decades. That was why Ronan had done what he could to make her remember those parts of her.

Without success.

Still. Part of him was... concerned.

There had been silence for seconds after she had spoken. Still those eyes eyed her. Measured. The silence dragging on. Maybe it would make her uncomfortable, maybe she was used to her father's long pauses.

Eventually the patience paid off.

"How does one fix that which has been left behind in the realm of the dead?" Which made him wonder... had Zambrano done it on purpose? If so, why?

 

[Tamara Wren]

She knew that he appreciated the new level of dedication. The ability to focus on what the clan needed without anything to get in the way. There was no way to not see that. His approval and pride. There was a time where that would have swelled her to the stars. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Without the other things that mattered to her, rather than simply duty, the things that made Tam Tam. She saw it in the way he looked at her sometimes, when he thought she wasn't looking. In the care he took to share a memory, to talk even when it wasn't his default setting. To help bring up the memories that he at least could remember. To help her find them in her own mind.

Tamara was used to long silences. She was thoughtful and slow in her responses, but Ronan was like speaking to an oak tree. Hard, unyielding, answering in a completely different time frame. This was positively short, as far as pauses from him went.

She breathed in deeply.

"By getting it back out, and returning it to where it belongs." She tapped on her chest.

"That's where the risks come in.... the Nether.... changes things. And we won't know how until it's done."

Despite the clear surity that she wanted to do this, there was still doubt in those eyes. She wasn't rushing blindly, she KNEW this could go badly.

But lately, between the long, silent moments of nothingness, there had been spikes of feeling. Enough that she knew she couldn't keep going like this. Not anymore.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Some people believed that Ronan did not feel.

That there was ice in his veins and that was all, but Tamara knew better. She would have seen more of him. The parts that he drew back away from the world. Because it wasn't for anyone else to see besides himself.

And her.

Because she was his. His blood. His life.

Even Tam didn't get to see it all. "I understand." What would Ronan have given, if it had been him in her place? His feelings muted. Not just pushed down, but gone. Memories too. "You did not came here for my blessing." Frankness. Always. "But you have my understanding." So much. He would have given so much to get that back. The feeling of thunder in his blood, when the battle raged bright and everything became clarity.

Feeling of pride when looking at Tam.

Other feelings.

Then he grew silent again, even while his eyes grabbed hers, holding them there. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to. Ronan could hear her heart skip. In that the Alor was waiting for his daughter to either flee again or to share that last bit.

That was festering inside.

 

[Tamara Wren]

It was true that she hadn't come here for his permission. But his understanding and acceptance mattered. She wanted that, and seeing it in his eyes, the recognition of just what she had lost and how much she would risk to get it back, was a weight off of her chest. She let go of a tension in her shoulders she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Thank you Papa."

She would have left it at that, or shifted the focus to other business- Clan business. Ronan had made her Senachal of the Spirit of Fire- charged with making certain new people joining the fleet, the clan, were settled and had everything they needed. People had trickled in, one or two at a time, for months. She was their point of contact, both settling in and moving forward. When he had realized how much of her time she had been spending, sitting and staring at a wall after her rebirth, it had seemed good for both clan and daughter to give her a task. There was always something to talk about in regards to that, so for a moment, when his gaze shifted into A'lor, Tamara though that was where they were headed.

Ronan had three modes that Tamara knew. One was Father. The other was A'lor.

The third was FATHER AS A'LOR and she didn't even know if he realized it existed but it did.

It was her least favorite Ronan mode.

This was the one looking at her now.

"I've been avoiding you." She said it plainly. There was no other way to talk to Ronan. Funny, how it was sometimes hard when she needed to speak to others, but when it was him? There was no other way to do it. She said it here and now not because he didn't know, but so he knew that she was aware of it- that it had been a conscious decision on her part.

"I was angry. That after everything that happened with the Deathwatch and how that all happened, that you could accept a different Force user into your life so casually." She didn't have to go into the details there. He knew what she meant.

Ordering her to take the cure. Placing death on her head when she had disappeared. She hadn't tried intentionally to run, but it was what it had looked like- they had already settled that since then. But the reality was that he had sentenced his own daughter to death for something that he was now.... Oh lord, it was the first time she'd thought about it like THAT. It was one thing to know but now she knew. Gross gross.

Her words had been calm- whatever anger she'd felt before was gone. Gotten over? Or faded because of an inability to carry something that burned strongly in her emotions for long? Perhaps a bit of both she suspected. The later was a real problem... something she was now keenly aware of due to the presence of [member="Julian Imani"] in her life.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

He did not realize it.

In his mind Ronan was still father. Just.... a patient and strict one in the moment. While Vizsla had patience (the patience of a mountain or a very old, stubborn and annoying oak), he realized that Tamara was taking a risk now. What would happen when she took that shard back into her? The months of it sitting there in the Netherworld. How much had Tam changed in a few sort days, what would the shift be for just a piece of her?

All alone there.

It concerned him, but Vizsla had already accepted it. There was nothing here he could do.

She admitted that she had been avoiding him. That got a look out of him. This one was closest to: Oh, really? Noooo. I didn't notice. The way Ronan seemed to be able to convey complex conversations in the blink of an eye was probably a superpower.

Then-

Blink.

There had been few of those blinks throughout their lives together. Very few. He recovered remarkably quickly in this one, but still. "I accepted the Jetii into the Clan. No one has entry to my life." He frowned there, before continuing a measure softer. "Except you." It had been a learning process for him too. To realize that he had to show a softer side of himself to her. Because she had need of it in those vulnerable moments.

It made him feel naked.

He didn't enjoy it.

At all.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Now it was Tam's turn to blink.

She knew that her father had occasional lovers. Rarely for long and even less common that she ever met them. It wasn't something she begrudged him. She didn't remember wishing as a child that he'd find someone that would make him happy. Find someone who might be.... but those memories were gone. They did not cross here in this moment.

But [member="Irella Vizsla"] had been introduced as....

"I thought she was your date," Tam said slowly. "I..... I'm sorry." Genuine, frowning at herself rather than him. A touch of consternation.

"I shouldn't have assumed."

The anger had already faded. It hadn't been possible to carry it. Just like she couldn't carry the good from her times on Teta. The tiny hole in her soul acted like a sieve, those feelings slowly dripping out until the bowl was dry.

"She's nice," she offered. For what it was worth. "I like her."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Ronan snorted.

"It was my attempt to..... how do you say it .... mess with Koda?" Stranger words had never been uttered from Vizsla's mouth. She would have noticed the odd relationship between himself and [member="Koda Fett"] though. Not... friends, exactly. But they allowed each other freedoms few others were given. The constant jabs. The work they did together. One day Tamara had come across Koda and Ronan sitting in his room.

In complete silence.

They hadn't spoken a word. Just. Drank. Silently.

Every so often she'd pass (to and from her duties) and that silence hadn't been interrupted from what she had seen. Until Koda stood up and left. Only a nod exchanging between the two. That is as close as you could get to friendship with Ronan.

A gesture of the hand followed. It wiped away the apology, the only acknowledgement it received. "It would have been hypocrisy." Leaning back a bit, rubbing the edge of a scar on his jaw. "Making my daughter take the cure. Punishing her for leaving. Then turning around and dating a forcer." His lips curled into a sneer. "A Jetii." The fact that Tamara liked her wasn't a surprise. He had noticed it in the last few weeks.

It got a pointed look.

She always had had a softer heart than him.

"Jetii or not. You..." Frowning again, deeper now. It was not often that Vizsla admitted when he had been wrong. "...changed my mind on the Force. I am not comfortable with it. It is dangerous, but it brought you back, runi. So I accept it as reality."

He had not forced her to take the cure after her revival. In fact, had not mandated it on anyone else and even offered a reversal to those who wanted it.

Bad blood because of it, but the challenges to his rule had slowly backed down eventually. They always did after enough blood flowed.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tam's brow furrowed.
"Koda's nice, too," she commented.

Honestly, she didn't really understand the 'friendship' between her father and [member="Koda Fett"]. She also recognized that she didn't NEED to. It obviously worked for them.

When he followed her line of thought, she nodded. She didn't have to lay out the hypocrisy and honestly she was glad of it. He understood, exactly why it might have been upsetting. If he registered the fact that she had been angry, and that it was outside the pendulum of the last six months was unclear, but with the path forward clear to her now, it wasn't incredibly important to her that he realized that.

When he commented on the Jetii however, Tam just shrugged.

"And we work for Darjetii. I....." Her thoughts skipped to Julian for a moment, then Irella, and back to the Sith she had met. "I'm not sure there's much worth judging someone on that. I think there's good and bad, independent."

It was the first time she'd voiced an opinion of her own on that topic. Mostly because she had known before that she simply didn't know enough. Just enough to know that she couldn't call herself any of those things, or desired to be one.

She stepped over, resting her hand on his shoulder. She couldn't apologize for changing his point of view on it. "It's like any tool, Papa." She said quietly. "It all depends on what you do with it."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Another snort.

"I can stomach him." Maybe to some degree that, too, was the extent of his friendship. Someone he didn't want to tear the throat out off. On a daily basis. Once upon a time Ronan would have aggressively corrected her assertion. Pushing it back hard, but the time for that was over. She was an adult now. A soft heart, too soft for this Galaxy, but it was what it was. Now it was her time to make the decisions.

And all the mistakes that would come with them.

Vizsla just hoped he had made her strong enough to face them. And break them apart with ease.

Watching her approach it was difficult not to see her mother in her. She had been.... harder. But those eyes were the same. There was always a sharp ache when he looked into those eyes. The exact reason why he never looked away from them. The ache was weakness and you didn't look away from the weakness. You faced it head on. Every day. Every moment. Until eventually it would pass and soften.

One day this one would too.

His hand carefully moved up to rest on hers.

"You did not see me with it flowing through my veins, runi." He pulled her hand, so small in his, carefully to his lips and kissed it once. "And I hope you never have to."

The bulk of his reputation. The bloody butcher. Had been made during those dark days. Ronan was still stone, a mountain or an oak, sharp and ruthless. But those days had been different. There had been pleasure at what he did.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tamara knew she wasn't as hard as either of her parents. Perhaps no one could be as hard at Ronan Vizsla..... or a woman willing to leave an infant out on the mountain for the crime of imperfection. Perhaps it was unfair to even compare herself to those.

She aspired to neither.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Papa," she said patiently, leaning down to rest her cheek against the top of his head.

"Any tool in your hands is a weapon."

He was right. She had never seen him like that. And he was equally right in that she didn't want to. She would never pressure him to change his view on the force for himself. She appreciated now that he was willing to do the same for her. How would she want to handle it, moving forward? She didn't know. Mostly, she didn't care, but that couldn't be helped- until she'd met Julian.

One crisis at a time. First, her soul.

Then the rest.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Was that a good thing?

A bad thing?

Maybe a better man would have worried about it. But for Ronan... it simply *was* and there was no point in poking at it. He didn't respond, instead just let her sit there with him. Half leaning against him. His hand on hers as the silence enveloped them.

There he felt the most comfortable.

Letting his love speak through the edge of time and proximity. Not through flighty words. Maybe some dozen minutes later, maybe more... he could almost feel her start to fidget.

Just a bit.

Tamara tried to hide it. Duty. But he knew her and laughed low. A sound as rare as water on Tatooine.

Hoarse and rasp.

"Go. Attend to your duties and then do as you will. I will be here when you need me." Oh, Ronan knew of her trips. But he didn't follow. It was hers to make, the decisions, the mistakes. All that Vizsla could do was be there for her if she needed it.

One way or another.