Private Monster

[Mia Monroe]

She shouldn’t be here.

Here, was not this little shack at the edge of Mos Eisley on tatooine. Her was on this plane of existence. Mia had been torn from the netherworld for the third time, pulled back against her own will and given a task. Restore Manda’yaim, restore strength to her people.

She hadn’t failed. That much she could at least claim. The mandalorians had united and were crusading across the east side of the galaxy with more and more numbers flocking to them every day. But it had cost her.

She had found love again, and lost it. She’d had daughters again and lost them too. Anytime she gave herself to the cause, anytime she gave herself to her people they took everything from her and she was left a hollow shell of misery that was so corrupted by the darkside she could no longer hide it when her emotions ran high.

She brought the bottle of whisky to her lips, the only thing that could quiet the pain only to find it empty. Numb fingers dropped it on the floor in front of her as her gaze levelled at the blaster that sat on the small coffee table in front of her. She’d been staring at it for hours.

It would be so easy. So easy to pick it up, to place the barrel against her temple and squeeze the trigger, so easy for her to return to the hell she knew, to return to her duty as a guardian of the Fields of Gold in the netherworld. To spend her eternity fighting demons and monsters, some of her own making…

But it was a cowards way out.

And Mia was anything but a coward.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

If the far older woman was not too far into her self-pitying daze, she might have noticed the subtle if still noticeable sounds of someone fiddling by the door. To the one undertaking such action, the fact he had not needed to dodge out of the way of some weapon that blasted through the barely well-maintained entrance was... intriguing enough, after all, for all the foes which he faced, this one had never been one to allow her guard down.

Especially in a place like this.

Still, as odd as it was, with a loud enough clink, one he was certain would alert the one inside to the presence of the one breaking in, alert the one inside to who was breaking in. The fact that there was... still nothing, was odd.

Yet, he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, nor one to push his luck too much... though, he supposed he was actually one to do both of those things depending on the circumstances.

Alas, in this one, considering how much effort he had put into this, how deeply he wished to know what exactly had occurred since their last meeting... and how much she needed to know what was to come in Jutrand, here he was.

"Do you know how stupidly difficult you are to find?" An all-so-familiar voice sounded across weathering walls, though... it had been quite a while since the Mo- Ma- Mia had heard his voice he supposed, as the door wrenched open without ceremony or ritual. In his defence, the fault was not entirely his that they had not remained in more active contact, certainly, his rise in the Sith Order had made him far more busy, with all that entailed, including planning a war against the greatest current power in the galaxy, and yes, indeed, he might have still made time to reach out, to perhaps his most important... and enough could be said of, reliable ally... friend...

...Perhaps more.

But of course by the point that he had reached out, only to find... silence.

And then he heard of the fall of the Protectors, and the rise of the Crusaders, suffice it to say, considering the role he played in that, he was not entirely shocked by the result, but he had not expected it to result in... that. He had expected their plans to continue with Mia taking her natural place as leader of the Mo- Mandalorians.

Instead, there was nothing, the Crusaders rose from the Protectors' ashes, and... he could not help but think it would be for the best, oh indeed, he might not have a secret ally among the Mo- Mandalorian leadership, but he now had Mo- Mandalorians who were far more eager to see the Jedi as much as a threat as the Sith, and after all, it was the Jedi whom they strained at having a border with.

Yet, that did not comfort him nearly as much as it should have, for after all... Mia was still missing.

For all he feared the worst, he knew she could not be dead, even out here, her death could not be kept a secret, even if her location was, and as much as he had failed Elsie... and Bogan, he had failed her so utterly... he could not fail her like this, she had already lost a mother once, she could not lose another.

Nor could he.

Though, as he stepped through the doorway, his black boots creaking against fraying floorboards, red eyes canvassing the scene cautiously, as the darkened cloak concealed most of his form, as much a protection against the sand as against eyes, he could say with some confidence, what he had feared the most had not come to pass.

Though the sight he bore witness to, was hardly much better.

His vision narrowed as he saw her, oily brown locks seemed unwashed, a frame that seemed barely holding together, stinking of alcohol, with cracked skin, burned against the heat of Tatooine's twin suns.

The smell...

...The less said of the smell the better.

She had always been a practical woman, austere to degrees which would have horrified him in his younger years before he saw all that the galaxy had to offer after all this was the same woman that was willing to rebuild an abandoned village on Zanbar twice, after all, their... discussions. Still, that tendency seemed almost radicalised now, somehow the shack... and the fact it was a shack at all was telling, seemed smaller on the inside than out, and though it held all the same features as the hutt on Zanbar... months of living like this, had evidently taken their toll on the place as much as on her.

He had never seen her like this... even on Zanbar when they had exposed themselves to each other, even on Yavin when their cries had shaken the jungle.

It was in the aftermath of those moments he realised.

Except...

...He had not been there to help pull her out of it.

His face twisted into an ugly expression, all which he had wanted to say, the light teasing, the explanations, all seemed so...

Malum took another step forward, clutching a bottle of water in his hand, pouring it over the other, as he approached her, eyes narrowing even further if it was at all possible, at the blaster lain on the table, her hand was far from it.

But in his opinion not far enough, as his fingers flicked forward, the ice, crisp, water so cool that it had burned his hand, raining across her face, forcing her attention onto him, away from... that, as he found himself on his knees, rubies gazing into diamonds.

"What happened?"

He had not been there.

But he was here now.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

She'd heard the movement at her door, she'd heard the lock click open. Perhaps it was death, come to release her from the hell of life, and if so, who was she to deny death? Let him come and return her to where she belonged. She'd pissed off enough locals by taking the jobs she had, there would be a disgrunteled gang member at some point that was bond to come for her.

But she was not so lucky. The galaxy was not so kind as to grant her that. Instead, it was the only person who was left in the galaxy that gave a damn about her. And he was a karking sith.

She closed her eyes and blew a sigh out of her nose. she should have gone further, deeper ito wildspace or even the unknkown regions, somehwere his Tsis'Kaar would not find her. But it was too late now. She ignored him, opening her eyes to look at the blaster again. All she had to do was pick it up.

She jumped, letting out a low hiss as icy water splattered across her face, her sapphire gaze lifting to his as he knelt before her. His words seemed like they were far away, like they were trying to reach her through the thick mud of her drunken haze. When she did answer, her voice was hoarse from lack of use, her words slurred, like her tongue was too thick for her mouth.

"I suceeded."

She didn't bother to wipe the water droplets from her face, there didn't seem to be much point. Her gaze moved back to the blaster. Maybe she could convince him to kill her.

"I suceeded in seeing my people united and reformed, and it cost me everything, as it always does. And I am still here."

She went quiet for a beat.

"Why are you here?"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The sequence of words was unfamiliar to him, but the tone was not, suffice it to say it was not the first time that he had witnessed her in a drunk haze, railing however pathetically against the agony, against the injustice of it all... though he supposed the only difference this time was that he he was not joined to her in the exact same manner and emotion.

Any humour drawn out from the feline-like hiss as the water fell on her was long sidelined by those words, by the mere look in her eyes, as she gazed up at him, the feeling was stuck in his throat, and no amount of swallowing was able to dislodge just how... just how much he hated seeing her like this.

Of all the most dangerous in the galaxy, and truly, he did know quite many of them, she was easily ranked among the top of the list, and to see her like this? Certainly, they had both seen each other worse for wear, but for reasons they both saw, both understood, both... fought together, even if fighting was as much fighting each other, as it was cradling each other as they were left raw, and defeated.

He had not been there.

And here was the result.

Her gaze left his back to the blaster. It was instinct as the bottle slammed down upon the table, and her arms were wrapped around hers, pulling her face into his chest, as he held her tight. It felt awkward, that much was right, he was perhaps not a stranger to this activity... but he could hardly be called seasoned, let alone a veteran.

"What did it cost you?" Perhaps a stupid question, his mind supplied as soon as it was uttered, he could think of several... but he could also think of how to fix each and every one of them... even as the slightest hurt burrowed through his heart, its beat felt by her head, as his grip tightened.

He was still here...

...It was her that had left him.

He swallowed the feelings finally into the pit of nothingness, considering the last of her words, quirking his head, resting his chin on hers, a ghost of a smirk expressed upon his feautres, "...Should I not be concerned for the wellbeing of my future mother-in-..." Red eyes flashed across his vision, as his breath hitched.

More of his failures failures flashed across his eyes.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia wanted to pull away from the embrace, to haul herself from the pain she had seen in his eyes, but she hadn't the strength, she was so tired. And it wasn;t the kind of tired that eased after a good nights sleep, it was a tired that she felt in her very bones, it was a weight on her soul that had been stretched out for too long.

What had she lost? She closed her eyes, seeing Elise's face watching it go from one of joy and determination to a broken thing with no face. She saw Liorra with all the energy and hope a child should have, turn against her when she realised how far Mia was willing to go. She saw Ijaat, cracking under the weight of the burden she'd pushed him to take. She saw her brother, a man who was not himself, a man who like her was broken, slowly fade into shadows.

"I drove them all away."

She felt a lump in her throat. "I crossed lines they were not willing to, I brokered deals so they didn't have to. I gave everything." Her voice cracked and she drew in a shuddereing breath. "I gave everything fot their future, and they all left."

His final words struck her and she found the strength then to push away from him, blinking away the haze of tears as she moved from the couch, stumbling on unsteady feet as she headed for the kitchenette, wrenching open cupboards looking for more alcohol. "I am not her mother. She made that clear. They both did."

The search became desperate as she moved from one door to the next revealing nothing behind the,. Nothing to quiet th pain that was rising. "I am no ones mother. I am no ones love. I am no ones friend. I am just a tool for this galaxy to use as it sees fit. Let's bring the Liberator back, the coulder that can't be stopped once its starts rolling. The woman who will do whatever it takes and damn the consequences, because why would we dirty our own hands when we can dirty hers."

The lst cupboard door was ripped from its hinges and thrown across the room.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" she screamed at him.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Even as his eyes hardened against those memories, he listened attentively, his hand falling to her back and fingers circling as comforting as he could be, what could he say that would comfort someone that he knew to at least some degree, even if speaking out of emotion was speaking the truth? She was not one to take simple niceties, sweet little nothings... lies, for comfort.

As soon as he did, she would no doubt bite his head off, and he was far from convinced that was metaphorical. Yet, what could he say, when the truth was far from comforting?

"They are alive, they are hale, they are healthy, no one could have expected more, yes, they left, but so can they come back," They were alive... but hale, healthy? What he saying... how had the lies so easily slipped out his lips, when he knew one of them, the only one of them that he gave any damn about, the woman he so loved, so deeply that he would do anything for.

The same woman... he had failed in so many ways.

Was so far from either hale or healthy.

He froze as he was pushed away, lost in his own thoughts he was far from capable of resisting, already regretting his attempts at bringing levity, for both what it did to him and her, but of course there was another factor to it as well.

The pang in his heart as he was pushed away, a mask falling upon his face as he buried it deep down, especially as for but a moment he saw the tears emerge out of those sapphires, before she was turned, retreating, a wounded lioness back to her den, searching for... searching for a balm to her wounds.

There were few, and none would be found in her cabinets.

He breathed in through his mouth, as the hot air blew through his nostrils, he had to centre himself, he could not lose himself to his own weakness when it was Mia who was hurt.

"One is a child that knows no better, when have we ever taken their words seriously when they know so little of the galaxy?" The irony was not lost on him, how he would have so hated that logic when he was a youth, unable to understand the right they had to cage him, when he felt so capable.

What he would not give to return to those simple days.

"And the other..." They lived together... a monumental time for any plebeian couple, he had learned... but how long had it been since they had spoken? How long had he spent watching her wither away, day by day, as the guilt whirled within him? As he allowed herself to be taken by her obsessions, as his eyes trailed to others.

As regrets and guilt burrowed deeper and deeper.

"...She needs you now, more than ever, Mia..." There was little strategy involved in that... the sombreness of his voice revealed as much, for all that he had been too scared to intervene... for all that he was, this was where his cowardice revealed itself, maybe she... Mand'alor the Liberator, would have a chance.

Her desperation was evident, as her fingers sprang across similar shrounds, gazing where she had already gazed, so hopefully, so filled with need, through sheer of will trying to summon what little could immediately aid her.

His footsteps sprang forward, gentle steps, cautious steps, as she continued to speak. He could not help but think of his old musings, immortal tyrants brought back to lead mortal subjects in an eternal war... it was... frighteningly accurate to her description, as much as they thought themselves freed.

Perhaps they werre more enslaved than the rest of them.

Yet, where most of his focus went, was to the still heavy pang in his heart, it weighed like lead, and demanded he fall to the floor, he felt every beat, he felt every shuddering breath. This was... too familiar. They had this conversation once before...

...So why did she so forget him.

Had they not been friends? Though... such a descriptor seemed so off to him.

Did he not love her? Not... not... in how he had loved that way, but in another way entirely like a...

He felt the pinpricks in his eyes.

Was she not his...

He swallowed the feeling down, as he opened his mouth to speak, only for his eyes to widen, as the cabinet broke off its hinges and flew straight for him, as the scream full of anguish and agony broke through the walls of the shack.

He had not expected it, there was no time to block it, no time to dodge it, and it certainly would not kill him.

He closed his eyes, as a pained shout broke out from his form, as the splinters buried themselves into his face, as he fell backwards, just barely holding on, even as the cabinet smashed against the floor, and viscous thick blood began to pool from his forehead down his eyes, and then further down his form, pooling at his feet.

As he stared, full of hurt towards the one who had done this.

Her question was barely heard, but which he needed to answer.

"...Because I might be dead, in the next few days."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

His hollow words of comfort, because there was only one person he knew that to be true of nd the only reason he knew it was because she had gone to him, because she loved him, because he offered her a security that the Protectors...that she could not. How could she possible need Mia? there was nothing she could give Elise other than pain.

Mia had not been aiming for him, she'd not intended...

His words stilled her, silenced the screaming in her own skull as she simply stared at him, standing there with tears in his eyes, blood trickling down his face. Dripping unceremoniously on the already filthy floor. The bark of a bitter laugh escaped her, silenced as she clapped a hand over her mouth, before running it through her hair.

"Kark it all." she muttered shaking her head as she slowly began to put the peices together. Elise didn;t need her, he did. He had sought her out because...because why? because she offered him a comfort? Because she always spoke the truth of things to him. she turned back to the cupboards, reaching atop them to fidn the medkit stashed up there.

"The only person in the galaxy who gives a crap about me, is a dar'jetii." She said softly as she pulled the kit down. "Mandalore the fucking Liberator, who freed her people from the clutches of the sith. And the only karking family she has left, is a sith brat she made a deal with."

She shook her head as she opened it out on the kitchen counter. "I'm being mocked by forces beyond our true control." she turned back to him, stepping forward on unsteady still drunk legs and catching his elbow to tug him to the counter.

"I'm sorry ad'ika. I didn't mean to hurt you." She began dabbing at the blood, trying to work out where the worst of it was coming from so she could deal with that first. "Tell me everything."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

To think that being harmed in such a manner would be enough to draw a pause to the warrior. The irony that it was not even her that was harmed, was not lost upon him though, as he felt the ache in his mind, felt his heart beat blood in his eardrums, the burgundy liquid flowed down his head, covering one suitably red eye under its torrent, it was wrenched closed.

He did not need blood in his eyes when there was already so much of it on his hands.

Her laughter filled his pounding drums, as he felt his knees waver, where the cabinet had struck he could not quite tell, his forehead seemed unlikely, it would have covered both of his eyes... but it had struck his head, and one of his eyes could not be used until it was solved. All the while the bitter laughter filled the room.

And he could not quite be sure if it was his own imagination or not.

She said something, he could not quite hear, whatever it was, she turned away from him back towards the cabinets. Back searching for more alcohol he imagined... understandable... he could tend to himself... his feet were wobbly, as he took a step forward, and then another hesitant one, he was not entirely sure where he was going.

Words filtered across to him, he missed most of them he was certain of that much, but some he thought he heard correctly, though in all honesty, he could not be certain of that either.

Dar'jetti.

Family.

Sith Brat.

She was referring to him, perhaps... and perhaps he should have been more hurt by the words coming across, indeed, the amulet had not intervened, and neither had her presence, it seemed both wished for him to suffer, as they sat within his mind quietly, braying for the blood that his own weakness had spilt.

She was holding something, he could not blink as the blood continued to drip down. A kit of some kind... he did not imagine it would carry alcohol, but he could not quite think of whatever else it might be.

Force.

How he so wished to hear with confidence what exactly she was saying.

His unblooded eye widened as she gazed at him, coming closer to him, and pulling him forward. At any other time, there might have been resistance at merely the surprise of it, now there was a surprise, but as the weakness spilt over through all his form, there was no resistance, as he was sat down by the chair, hanging over the table.

He might have said something, if only she had not beaten him to it first.

I'm sorry ad'ika. I didn't mean to hurt you.

Tell me everything.

He let out small hisses as she dabbed along his injury, wondering what he could possibly say, as he found himself unconsciously shifting closer and closer to the symbol of maternal protection in front of him. As it seemed that the ability to speak at least for this moment was taken away from him, and he felt the weakness reach his eyes, feeling the salt wash begin to form, as he leaned in desperate.

So many thoughts running through his mind.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia had always been a terrible mother, so concerned with the progression and survival of her people that her children had always come second, if not third after her duty. Now…now she had the time because her people didn;t need her and she still had not been able to find it in herself to simply be there.

The evidence of that stood before her, blood running down his face. She found the deep gash pressing the gauze against it as shame weighed heavily on her chest, watching the tears spill from his ruby eyes as he tipped forward into her.

Mia wrapped her arms around him, a hand coming to stroke his head as a lump formed in her throat, she scanned the room around them,seeing for the first time the squalor she was living in. He had tracked her down, expecting to find something of strength waiting for him, someone he could rely on…

And she had given him this?

"Wayii, Malum." she breathed softly "I am so sorry."

She fell silent and simply held him, when he was ready, he would speak.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was a coolness to her touch, through her fingers, through the gauze. Such did not compare to the coldness as her arms wrapped around him. He did not bare away from the icy touch, indeed, the irony on full display, he embraced it, his arms quick to encircle themselves around the shorter, yet older form.

The dam finally broke, and the tears streaked across one eye, as they struggled to escape the other, coagulating with the blood congealing down his form, now sharing their occupancy with the other body.

Wayii.

The word was spoken in the foreign tongue that he had once thought was the speech of animals, how far had he come that he understood it as well as basic, understood it as well as Ur-Kittat and High Sith... another stab of guilt at the memory of who exactly had taught him Mando'a.

Her apology soothed a pain he had not entirely been sure he was feeling, but in the fact of a hundred different pains, a thousand different stresses, it meant little...

...It meant everything.

"I failed her..." He whispered against her chest, as the sobs began to wreak his body, "She is wasting away in my library, the same library which..." He let out a shuddering gasp as another stab of guilt whirled through him, "She withers away and I am too weak to do anything to stop it, she is so focused on her goal that she is losing herself, bit by bit every day, and I do nothing but watch..." He babbled away as the guilt beat out concern, and he spilt all to the one person who cared about her as much as he did.

The one person who might be able to help him in this, because no one could help him out of the Kaggath.

Mia Monroe

Mentions: Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Lina Ovmar

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia closed her eyes as the weight of him leaning on her made her own legs tremble. Slowly she sunk to the floor, bringing him with her, each sob that tore from him felt like it was ripping at her own heart. It had a sobering effect, driving the effects of the alcohol from her mind as she processed what he was saying, rocking gently as she continued to stroke his head.

"I can go to her, if that's what you want, Malum."

What she could possibly say to pull Elise out of whatever rabbit hole she had fallen down she wasn't sure. The girl had always placed her goal above her own health and wellbeing, something that she had not taught her, but that they both had in common.Time and experience had at least granted Mis with the capability of recognising when she'd gone too deep…

She glanced around at the room again.

Well, most of the time it had.

"The chances of her listening to me are slim to none, but I will try and make her see sense."

She brought her lips to kiss the top of his head and sighed through her nose.

"What else?"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Gravity only assisted her efforts, as with the very same lack of resistance he had shown before, she pulled him down towards the ground, not pushing away, even as he could certainly understand why she would do that. Who needed such weakness? Who needed a blubbering fool weeping on her like some maid, bleeding on her and her floors?

He might have pulled away, if not for said weakness.

As cold as her warms were, they held a warmth entirely of their own, a warmth that was balm to blood and tears alike, as the sobbing stopped quaking his chest, as the gauze felled the blood flow, even as both lay drying on both him and her.

"...I plan to speak to her... she deserves more than anyone else to know what will come..." He was not so weak to pawn off responsibility for this, "...But should the worst come to pass, you need to keep her safe, promise me." He had secured his succession, but history taught that succession could never be entirely secured, especially as complicated as his.

He blinked with a single eye, as he felt her lips atop his head. Such was not... uncommon between them... but it was rare. He dared to hope...

Could she be back?

He raised his head hesitantly from her chest, red meeting blue, and he almost broke again, as he attempted to pull away. He had forgotten himself, lost himself in the pain and aches.

"...Too much has happened... I will not burden you with my struggles... I am simply glad you are okay." She was not okay, even if she seemed to be in a better state now, but he had already admitted to far too much, she cared for Elsie, and that would do...

...The rest was his made bed, and he had to sleep in it.

Mia Monroe

Mentions: Elise Ahana-Gwyneira

 

[Mia Monroe]

He didn't want her help. Mia couldn't blame him, who would want help from a wasted wreck of a woman? It's not like she had done Elise any good when she had been in her care. If anything, her actions had been what had driven her away in the first place, so why would he ask her to fix whatever mess she was in now. She'd likely only make it worse.

"You don't need to ask me to promise that, Malum. It goes without saying, I will always protect her."

Mia let him pull away, her hands falling into her lap a strange hollowness left in his wake, she swallowed and looked away, unable to hold his gaze. Shame colouring her cheeks.

"I'm not okay, Malum." she whispered, before taking a breath and forcing herself to meet his ruby gaze. "I have not been okay since the day I was pulled out of the netherworld, and every day I spend on a plane of existence on which I don't belong, I will not be okay."

She blinked against the hot prickling in her eyes as more tears formed.

"Please, burden me. Give me something else to focus on besides my own misery."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

For some reason, even after securing what he wanted, it was cold comfort, he supposed between all which ailed him, to have the promise that one would be handled, was a rather empty balm. Especially as he allowed him to pull away.

It was just cold now.

As she looked away, unable to gaze upon the weakness before her, despite her admissions, despite his private thoughts too scared to say aloud... whatever they were, how could she bear to look upon such a failure of... whatever he was to her. He understood... but it still hurt.

It was her voice that he focused on, his hands taken to his closed away, wiping and flaking away both wet and dried blood, as the gauze took on a red hue, slowing the spread, but not quite stopping it.

He could not help but pity her... for all that he knew these immortal tyrants were puppets, it irked him, even more, how unknowing they were of their station, how much they perhaps even enjoyed it.

Mia was different. She hated being here.

Even despite his presence... she hated it here...

He swallowed, as he returned to the embrace, strong arms wrapping snuggly around the battlefield legend, as fingers trailed up to wipe away the hot tears threatening to spill. It was his turn now, as he laid a soft kiss upon her forehead, rubies meeting sapphires as he gazed into the expression of her eyes.

How he so wished to take all that she felt, within himself... for once he could help her.

"Kaine still lives... you have a purpose..." His breath was hollow, his voice weak, "...I will not be able to give you one... I cannot even guarantee my own life past this week..." That he had found her after the battles on the frontier was... too coincidental... too lucky... mere days before events would take place on Jutrand.

That he had an opportunity to say goodbye before he faced death...

...The Force was a cruel mistress.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia pulled away from him with an angry growl, pushing herself to her feet to escape his pity "Enough." she said sharply, wiping away her own tears. "Enough pity, I don't want it. I don't need it." Hands braced against the countertop, her forehead leaning against the wall cabinet as she tried to steady herself.

Kaine.

It would always come back to the sith. In her youth she would have thrown herself repeatedly at them, taken a chunk out of them with each attack regardless of the cost to her own wellbeing. An endless war… when she returned to the netherworld, she wanted to be sure that the damage she did was irreparable.

"I can't kill him until the phylacteries are found and you have yet to share what information you have." She closed her eyes and shook her head. Turning his words over in her head.

I might be dead in a week…should the worst come to pass…I cannot guarantee my life past this week…

The message he had been trying to give her finally found its mark and her head snapped to look back down at him as she lowered back to her knees. "Malum…what have you done that means your life is not certain?"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

A sharp annoyance struck his brow as she pulled away, annoyance at her for never being able to show a shred of vulnerability when she was so clearly vulnerable, and annoyance at himself for doing unto her what he himself would have hated coming from anyone, pity. Perhaps such contradiction of feeling was why he did not follow as she pulled away, and said nothing as she retreated back to the countertop.

He himself mirrored her now, sitting on the floor alone, hands pooling down by his knees.

At the mention of the phylacteries, he tilted his head, as he saw the golden visage of the owner of one of the phylacteries, "...Assuming the worst comes, the information of its location will arrive to you, promptly," Another measure he had to establish, so many already. It was a betrayal of Srina... but once he was dead, there was little more that he could do.

And as much as in many regards he saw the Empress in a similar light to Mia, part of him also knew, beyond the Taeli, beyond Kaine, beyond the Emperor, and all the others, if there was one individual that was an obstacle to his plans, it was that woman.

And if betraying the location of the phylactery, one which she had never asked him to keep secret, one which he was not even sure that she knew its purpose... if it would bring down the greatest tyrant the galaxy had ever known.

It would be worth it, a hundred times over, a thousand times.

Yet he also knew, there was more to be done in that regard, "But you must promise me, here and now, no harm will come to its holder, promise me."

The pause between them was occupied, by the presence of her gaze settling on him, the sound of her descending down. Her question... awkward to say the least on how he could answer... how he should answer... he was in little position to lie to her, after beig so upfront about it all.

And there was no reason to lie to her about this.

"...I have been forced to challenge my co-apprentice to a Kaggath in front of the entire Order, broadcasted to the entire galaxy, there is a very good chance I will not walk out of that arena alive." It was odd, how saying such was... so utterly liberating.

Mia Monroe
Mentioned: Srina Talon Taeli Raaf Darth Carnifex Darth Empyrean

 

[Mia Monroe]

The request for a promise was met with silence as Mia's jaw tightened, her eyes searching his face. Whoever it was, they were dear to him, but hadn't she told him at the beginning, when they started down this path that he had to be prepared to make sacrifices, that there would be those that would stand in their way, that he had to be ready?

The silence thickened as he told her of the kaggath. Forced to challenge? By whom? And why? Her mind was starting to turn faster, the haze of the alcohol fading as she began to process his words. Dead…he could be dead in a week, and there would be nothing she could do about it. To interfere in a kaggath was dishonourable, was it not?

She opened her mouth, and closed it again.

She could lose another child.

That thought sent a sharp pain through her chest, as icy as it was hot. She drew in a sharp breath, her fingers reaching to cup his face with both hands as tears stung her eyes. Why would he deviate so far from the mission he had? What was so important about this co apprentice that required such finality in a duel? All these questions and more ran through her head but the only words she could muster came out as a whisper.

"Nayc ad be ner malyasa'yr sarna."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He knew she would hardly like the promise that he was asking her to take, indeed her silence in that regard was enough for him to reconsider if that information should reach her hands... yet... if there was any force in the galaxy that both held the power, but too, the willingness to challenge Kaine... it was the woman standing right before him.

But to commit the price of betrayal...

...Had he not done that so many times?

What was once more?

The information could not die with him, that much he knew, but... to betray her... filled him with such revulsion that, his place on the floor was perhaps too apt to save his stomach. He would need to... set up something far more elaborate... even as he knew, regardless it would be a betrayal.

And he would do it a hundred more times if he had to do it.

Even as the sensation to hurl grew ever stronger.

The silence stung more than he could have expected, the temptation to draw his gaze up, look into those sapphires and seek the certainty, that he so wanted, so amply clear, yet... he was alone. As he was in so many disparate ways. The sound of jaw slackening, to unslacken, did not fill him with any more confidence.

Only for the sound of a hot, heavy, breath to alert him to a change, as glassy red were staring up, chin cupped by coarse hand, that held still a remarkable softness, her eyes, the eyes that he had battled, eyes which felt safe in their depths, were hardly any more composed than his own.

As she spoke the way of her people.

As a sob broke his form, as juxtaposingly, a wry smile fell on his lips, one which certainly was not reflected in his sight.

"Pehea cuyir gar bid layari, buir?" What he could not say in common, he could say so easily in her tongue... he did not know why.

Mia Monroe
Mentioned: Srina Talon

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, tears escaping to run down her filthy cheeks as she paced a chaste kiss on the top of his head. The word 'buir' stirred emotion in her chest. So often she had called him ad'ika a term of endearment to begin with but one that had grown to mean more to her.

Her mind drifted back to the first day they had met, the day he had tried to obliterate her with turbo laser, to the fights that followed in the meetings after as they sought an understanding of the other. Never…never would she have thought that he would grow to mean as much to her as he had done. Even without his connection to Elise…

"You might be young, but you are powerful and you have something more than power to fight for." She stroked his head gently. "You have love and you have family."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Your destiny also transcends something so insignificant as a kaggath. You will not die. You will live."
Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The warmth of a mother's embrace was a rarity for him. Amongst noble families, who were trained their entire lives in the arts of etiquette, who were hounded not perhaps always through loud voices, but through the sheer weight of expectation, of both blood, title, and name, they were to remain perfect, the very symbol of stability, power, and intricacy.

His parents were not cold by any means, and of all parents to have they were beyond what he thought he deserved, beyond what he could expect.

But were they warm?

He might have been able to count on one hand... perhaps two, the number of times his mother had embraced him, of course behind closed doors, for the strength of House Marr could never be questioned in front of the sight of those outside of their House, even if his mother had certainly been as much outside their House as any other.

After five children, suffice it to say, she was as much a Marr as any of them.

But still, as much as he had come accustomed to it, as much as he realised his expectations and became the perfect prince of their House, there was part of him, the very same part of him that had accepted that he would never be able to love beyond his blood, only to keep reading those books of chivalric romance and hoped... hoped beyond hope that maybe...

That same hope had come now again and burned so bright as her arms surrounded him, as a chaste kiss was laid upon his forehead, and dry sobs, lessening in significance, yet still present wreaked his face as he laid his head against her chest. Her fingers trailed through his raven locks, a tremour pressing up his spine, as every instinct commanded him to pull away, to compose himself, to not show such weakness, to anyone, let alone her.

But she had seen him at his weakest so many times.

What was once more?

He chuckled, as he pressed himself further, wrapping his own arms around her, "The power of love? Isn't that a bit cliche for you?" He spoke, even if the words were muffled, as the tears wet her front, "I hate destinies..." He hated how he felt that he was fated to die, he hated how if he lived, to many, it would simply be a matter of destiny deciding otherwise, rather than his will, rather than his actions, "He is powerful too... he has those who love him, that that follow him, he believes its his purpose to do so much," They sat on a precipice, these two heirs of Ophidia, the weight of their actions, pervading throughout no matter the victor.

Mia Monroe
Mentioned: Darth Strosius