Private Elevated Episodes: How I Met Your Mother - Jungle Rehash

[Quietus]

Several hundred years, Quietus replied, not congruent years though. I left Onderon during the Gulag Plague, and when I returned there had not been another leader instituted.

Gently rolling the cup in her hand she took another sip, wincing slightly at the taste. Honestly, she'd never get over that.

Competition for Beastia? No, never. Though before the Gulag there was a pair of errant young Sith Knights that thought they were going to rule Onderon through Iziz. I very quickly quashed those dreams and directed them elsewhere.

Quietus had never had any intention of ruling all of Onderon - she'd left the city of Iziz alone for a very specific reason. Keeping the current royal lineage in place allowed the people to trust her more, and acting as Pillar of Knowledge gave her a great deal of clout with the ruling King and Queen. Enough that she needn't rule over them, they came to her in their time of need on their own.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver raised a perplexed brow You didn’t kill them? Why?

The stew she swept off the fire with a flick of her hand, doling out two piping hot portions in a hiss of steam. It was still bubbling merrily as she brought it up to her favorite retired royalty in a carved wooden bowl.

She’d gotten better at keeping her hands busy, at least. And at repurposing knives, too.

Truly idyllic.

Without allowing competition, though, how did you know you were actually the best for Onderon?

 

[Quietus]

Because I believe in second chances.

A quaint smile lighted upon her lips for a brief moment, not without a matter-of-fact sense to it, before it faded as she took the proffered bowl with a thank you. Qui called over two carved wooden stew spoons to her hand and offered one back to Aver in return.

A brow lofted at her mate's next question. Not having and not allowing are two very different things. She tipped the bowl up to sip at the broth, finding the balance between flavors to be quite nice. It was well known throughout the tribes that I was a Force Master. In my lifetime there had never been another Beast Master of my equal. It was also well-known that I was inhumanely fast and strong. There were those who thought themselves capable, but their challenges were under-league. For a good majority of those years I was the Pillar of Knowledge in a Sith organization called the Brotherhood of the Sith, which later became the Dark Sith Order, and then the Sith Empire.

My station remained, I was uncontested because I was proven. Onderon flourished. If that is not a measure of my competency for the position I do not know what is.

 

[Aver Brand]

Oof.

Aver made a face but tilted her head in acquiescence of the barb. Touchée.

The convenient thing about telepathy – apart from privacy, of course – was the fact that you could enjoy the food and the conversation in parallel without diminishing either.

Ain’t the Force a wondrous thing, indeed.

So while her mate expanded upon her point, Aver demolished her own stew, picking up the spoon only to deal with the dregs that refused to unstick from the bowl. She replaced the dish with suspiciously careful movements, then raised up two fingers, ticking them in time with her words.

“First,” her grin was a full-blown thing; nothing like you’d find on her face twenty years ago, “eau de Sith, darling.”

“And second, there’s a million ways to flourish, ain’t it? Just cause you got it right don’t mean someone else can’t.”

 

[Quietus]

Those groups existed over 500 years ago, Quietus offered as reposte, Onderon was my home, where I grew up, and I intended to see it prosper under my care - not that of some self-possessed darkside despot.

She sipped again, as ever finding herself at odds with Aver's ravenous appetite. The Merc housed her meals like she were running from calamity. Quietus had long ago learned to enjoy them while she could. Taste them, even.

What's your point? I got it right, no one else did. What does it matter?

 

[Aver Brand]

The chair squealed precariously as two hundred pounds of muscle and cybernetics balanced on its back legs. Aver swirled the bottle of Whyren’s between her fingers as she leaned back, considering first her mate and then a distant spot on the dimming horizon above the distant canopy.

Well… you asked about my brother.

Blue eyes settled back on the regal blonde on the other side of the table. Aver raised her shoulder in a half-shrug, then tipped some of the whiskey past her parted lips. The amber burned a satisfying line down her throat, anchoring her to the treehome, to the mountain, to Thral.

And I mean… Ygdris bit her lip, glancing at her hand and a ring that wasn’t there, how do you know? That you got it right?

 

[Quietus]

How do you know you got it right on Nadir?

Quietus turned the query already asked of her back on Aver, an expectant sort of look on her face.

 

[Aver Brand]

Ygdris made a face.

I don’t.

Ygdris arched a brow.

That’s why I’m asking.

 

[Quietus]

Quietus smiled. She thought that was where this was going but just wanted to be sure.

I know because the end result was the goal from the beginning. Onderon was protected, thriving, evolving, and relevant.

Both brows lifted in a faint facial shrug, Everyone has a different definition of what getting it right means, I just happened to achieve my own.

 

[Aver Brand]

The mercenary leaned back, balancing the chair on nothing but sheer Force. Her gaze left the blonde and instead began cataloging the fine details of the leaf-roof she’d helped lay down earlier.

No objective way to judge it then, you think?

It had been peaceful, honest work. An act of creation, however small.

Her hands made use of, rather than her hands as manifest abuse.

Was Nadir the same?

 

[Quietus]

Looking at it objectively seems a lot like judging a work of art. In the end, it just boils down to someone's opinion doesn't it?

She inhaled deeply, sipping the remainder of the broth from her bowl before rising to a stand and collecting Aver's as well.

You grew up on Nadir, you know what it was like before compared to now. Is it what you envisioned it should be after all these years?

 

[Aver Brand]

Yeah, but a work of art can’t kill ya, can it? Aver flashed a lopsided smile at her mate as Qui stood to put away the dishes.

Well, that one was easy, at least.

Yes.

She had taken a cesspool plagued with gang wars, slavery, and inept governance, and molded it into the crown jewel of the galactic underbelly, laden with trade and riches and armed to the fucking teeth.

No…

She had united the squabbling factions in all but name, eradicated the useless and instated her own efficient practices, and led the shadowport into a golden age.

Her syndicate rivalled the power of nations, and it was her doing alone.

… better.

 

[Quietus]

Smirk. Depends on what one might consider a work of art.

The former Beastia raised a brow at the other woman, giving her an appreciative look over. She'd considered the Mercenary a work of art, herself, for quite some time now. Much like she considered the various lethal predators of the galaxy works of art. Beauty, and art as it were, was in the eye of the beholder. Point made.

Yes.

No ... better.

Qui nodded, And only you would have made it the way it is. Someone like the Republic or the Sith would have had vastly different outcomes. Wether or not one does it better than the other is really just a matter of opinion. What's better?

Approaching her, she moved to stand at her side and lifted a hand to comb through the tangles of her hair. It was longer now, ever so much more than she usually kept it when she stayed more frequently on Nadir. Here she needn't fit it under a helmet ... not really, anyway, and the local fauna didn't have a penchant for grabbing at hair. Though it did tangle more easily when it was longer, Qui rather liked preening her mate.

Putting little braids in her hair when she slept.

Now the more important question is what should I wear when we go to meet your mother for dinner?

Her smirk widened.

 

[Aver Brand]

Nigh-on three decades between them, and Aver still felt a visceral pang of lust under the long caress of that green gaze. Unlike her younger self, Ygdris now let the want settle in her belly without pressure or expectation, simply enjoying the experience for what it was. There was no rush. She kicked out her legs in self-satisfied insouciance and leaned back in her chair, shirt riding up just high enough to reveal the V of her hips.

A red mouth curled into a smirk.

Two could play this game.

When her mate stood up, blue eyes twinkled – could it be that Qui would give up patience so readily and quickly?

But those strong fingers combed through her hair instead of seizing them, and Aver could find no disappointment at that fact. She sighed in contentment, relaxing into the gentle touch.

Even that stupid question couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off her face.

You could wear a garbage bag for all I care. You'll look fantastic either way.

 

[Quietus]

Awe, Quietus gave a teasing smile, cafuning the woman with both hands and letting her fingers gently work the knots out, when did you become so doting...

As if admiring and complementing one another had been so rare. Their way was just a bit more ... forward and lewd when compared to normal people. Qui leaned to sit across Aver's open lap, working her way through the lengths of cowlicked red locks, But in all seriousness; If you're going to wear your armor I'm going to feel real underdressed in my dress slacks.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver snorted. It ain’t doting if I’m just stating facts.

The retort was lukewarm at best – not least because the blonde had chosen that precise moment to drape herself all over her lap. It had been years since the lady did protest too much.

And so her eyeroll was just as half-hearted. Like she would wear armor to a lunch with her mo— okay, so she might’ve, like, once, but that didn’t prove shet.

Aver settled her hands on those fine flanks, seeking out the delicate dimples at the small of her back. She bode her time as she worked strong fingers upwards along the curve of Qui’s spine, gently but surely headed towards the sensitive spot on her nape.

But that, too, could wait.

“Could always come in your leathers,” she murmured, the words barely more than vibrations as she tucked her face into a pale neck. “If we’re doing this, might as well do it proper, no?”

 

[Quietus]

My armor? Qui blinked at the prospect. Items she'd not adorned herself in for a handful of years. It had been her staple wardrobe on Onderon, but on Thral she took a far more casual approach to what she wore. There were no warring tribes here, no governmental factions seeking to take and burn. She had no one here to intimidate or fix with a measure of threat. The predators here didn't care what you looked like, they'd eat you just the same.

Here it was best to be unseen, to move quickly and quietly, to wear only minimal armor. The bulkier you ran, the more difficult it became to navigate the jungles. And their bastard mounts could only carry so much weight without being hindered. No, out of their little group the one who seemed to be perfectly dressed for all occasions was Shai.

But Nadir wasn't Thral and ... armor on Nadir was probably a good choice. Qui let an easy expression settle on her face as Aver nestled into the crook of her neck. It was a warm night, as per usual, but the humidity wasn't so bad. This area of Thral was slowly shifting into its dry months and, she surmised, the waterfall nearby would soon lose much of its ferocity.

I suppose I can dig something out.

Green eyes closed against the kneading of strong hands at her back, enjoying the release of tension from several weeks of being exceptionally busy growing and building what she hoped to be her last new home. Qui leaned her face into red hair and relaxed into the all-enveloping presence of the only person in the galaxy she ever missed anymore.

How did your mission with my brother go?

 

[Aver Brand]

If the goal was to relax, then that was certainly the wrong question to ask. Aver grumbled and burrowed deeper into platinum locks.

It… went.

She traipsed her fingers across the loose shirt, ghosting past the spot to bury them in loose locks instead. A playful gesture to offset the unpleasant pang of memory. And if she could string Qui along the line of tension in the same fell swoop, then all the better.

She’d always loved efficiency, after all.

His lay was supposed to be bait, because, you know, Sage was hunting her. Idiot couldn’t listen and stay put though, so… I had to move up the plan to compensate.

In other words, reason #326 why Aver prefered to run solo.

If you come in the leathers, she dipped her fingers low to seek out the spot that turned a venerable queen into a spoiled cat, mouth moving along the tense muscle of a pale neck and up to her ear, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Let it never be said that Ygris Val could not be sentimental.

 

[Quietus]

Blond brows rose. Well, she couldn't say she was terribly surprised things didn't go according to plan but, in all honesty, Quietus didn't know the woman her little brother was bedding. Somehow, though, he always seemed to attract drama. Of course such things wouldn't sit well with Aver who liked things to go just so. Her way.

Well, Quietus chewed on a bubbling of amusement at the unfortunate bungling of Aver Brand's plan, you've always been very good at thinking on your feet...

She bit into her lower lip to keep the grin from getting too big, not that Aver could see for the forest of platinum braids and locks in her face. But now they were back to the topic of her leather armor and dandying fingers were now scoping out a certain particular spot. Desdemona Shamalain gave a coiling flinch at the touch, shoulders shrugging upwards and head tilting into the lips in her ear at the sensation. She shivered.

Are you bribing me Aver Brand? The smirk returned, nuzzling into that red hair, Because it's working.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Bribing you? Desdemona Shamalain, I am wounded.” Aver backed away with a mocking gasp and placed a dramatic hand over her heart (over her bloodtrail).

“Leveling such slanderous accusations against my good person!” She shook her head, pinching her lips in what might’ve passed for disappointment if her shoulders weren’t shaking with quiet laughter.

“But say that I were—” Aver leaned abruptly back in, voice hot and low as she scraped her teeth along a pale throat, what would you want?