Private Deepening the Bond

[Aito Vautah]

Since the fight with Ven, Aito had not been able to think about much else, she occupied his thoughts with intrigue and a desire to understand. He hadn't seen her in years and then suddenly she was there again, sparring him. Luckily the years of training had paid off and he was able to win but it was a tough match that could have gone either way really. His thoughts lingered on those early days, the losses, the struggles and the raw need to win. It had taken years to get to where he was now but now he was one of the best, possibly the best. He had fought enough to allow himself some ego on the matter. Passing through an alleyway, Aito wondered if he should ask Ven out to talk more, catch up even more than they already had. She had come back to his after the fight to talk and catch up on the years in between but there was so much more that he wanted to talk about.

Once he reached his place, he flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror, a little bruised from the last fight but nothing serious and he had won most importantly. Not that it was a difficult fight, few were when he was going into fighting tournaments on fringe worlds. His face sagged as he wondered if this was just a bad idea, messaging Ven after all this time, what if she wasn't interested in meeting up again? Shaking his head, no the doubts were not going to be helpful here and it would be something casual. He very much doubted a beautiful woman like Ven would be single after all this time. After several long minutes of staring at a blank screen, Aito sighed and fell back into his chair, clearly this was becoming a bigger problem than he thought. Was hi too little? Would Hi, how are you seem too formal? What was the right opening line?

Hey, so there is a new Atrisian restaurant opening up near me, do you want to try it out together?

Sent. Why did he type together? Clearly he meant together? Subtly was just not Aito's style and making things bluntly clear was possibly something he needed more than she did. Aito paused and then looked around the place, the options for clothes was limited and he didn't think arriving in armour would be appropriate... She was a Mando as well... No, armour would be weird, right? Damnit, now he was worrying about what to wear? How was he meant to survive the actual date? Was it a date? It did sound like one but it might be just something more platonic, sighing Aito had gotten himself even more confused than before. This was not going to go well.

Dressed in a simple crisp white shirt that was unbuttoned a little so one could see a bit of his chest, black ironed trousers with shiny black shoes, Aito adjusted his top knot. He decided to dress this way in case Ven had thought it to be a date and also because the place had seemed pretty posh when he had passed it so if she didn't think it was a date there was a clear second reason that he had not panicked thought of...

Ven Munin

 

[Ven Munin]

Drip, drip, drip…

The sound of water leaking from the tap echoed loudly through the empty room, finding a home in the shadowy corners and cobwebbed shelves.

Drip, drip, drip…

Ven tapped her finger in time.

Tap, tap, tap…

It had been like this for hours. Deathly silence punctuated by an orchestra of poor plumbing and a distracted mind. It was a less than productive atmosphere, and Ven had been taking that rather seriously. Apart from the occasional trip to the refresher, or the disappointing foray to the fridge to attempt to quell her hunger, Ven had done nothing. The minute she had set foot in her home her only noteworthy action had been thinking, but not about anything in particular. About thousands of things. About the past, about the present, and about the future. About the path that had led her here, and the one that seemed to temptingly stretch out before her just after the fight with Aito.

Ven had never expected to meet anyone from her past, least of all in an underground battle in the sticks of Hutt space. Surprised though she was, it was overtaken by relief. Relief that there was someone out there in the galaxy that she recognised, and that recognised her in return. Since leaving home, Ven had assumed that sensation to be lost entirely, but Aito had proved her wrong. She didn’t like to be proved wrong. At least, not very often, but she could not have been more grateful for it this time. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Drip, tap, drip, tap… DING!

The room was bathed suddenly in bright blue light. Shooting bolt upright from her slouched position on the chair, Ven scrambled over to the illuminated personal datapad cast haphazardly onto a cluttered coffee table. It flickered precariously as she lifted it, squinting her eyes so she could read the message that stood boldly, pride of place in the centre of the lined blue screen.

A meal? For a moment, Ven seemed taken aback. She had never been invited for a meal before. Back home all their meals were shared with the entire clan. There was never any need to have private meals, so there was never any need to invite people to one. Even after being forced to leave home, Ven had only ever eaten by herself. Or at least, eaten far enough away from the crowds to be considered “included”. Her face fell into a thoughtful expression for a few moments as she considered her answer. Of course, it was a yes, but what did one do at a meal like this? What would she wear? How much was it going to cost? She rose a hand to scratch idly at the crimson hair on her head, as if in doubt, but the other hand was already tapping out a reply.

Yes. Let’s do it. I’ll meet you there.

It took far longer to decide what to wear than it did to decide to go. Ven had never stepped out of her house without her armour before. She felt very naked. Doubly so as she turned slowly in front of her mirror, causing the sheer material around her legs to catch the breeze and flutter upwards. Was this acceptable? Ven glanced at the clock on the wall briefly. She still had time to change, but would somewhere as fancy as a private dining space allow armour? Surely, they would on their Mandalorian customers. It was almost offensive to assume that they wouldn’t show up clad in their usual beskar, but even Mandalorians made exceptions sometimes. After several moments of solid debate, and several more filled with statements meant to boost her confidence, Ven tore herself away from the glass and left to meet Aito.

Aito Vautah​