Of Ash and Flame

[Artemis Lux]

D X U N​

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Theme​

Dxun was alive, and the Mando’ade with it. The sound of revelry spilling out from the rudimentary colony walls was strange, almost foreign, cutting through the darkness that had kept them in desolation for far too long. Tonight, the Mandalorian Faithful had shed their mourning shrouds and joined together for one purpose: to celebrate.
A colossal bonfire illuminated the center of a makeshift courtyard that formed the heart of their encampment. The raging flames leapt high into the crisp night air, every once and while spouting a glittering spray of orange sparks toward the stars as if to set the constellations ablaze. Whenever this happened, the jubilant crowd that had gathered to dance, mingle, and imbibe erupted into raucous, delighted cheers. It was a joyous affair: every man, woman, and child who called themselves Mandalorian had converged on the jungle moon to celebrate not only the riddurok of two of their own, but also the reclamation of their homeworld and the deliverance of their people. Mandalore, though still far from her former glory, was theirs again at last. They would rebuild.
Booming laughter and festive chatter filled the lively atmosphere with an exuberance that most had not enjoyed in ages. Little ones squealed and whooped, chasing each other in and around the trees that lined the edges of the fort, while those old enough to partake (as well as a rascally few who were not) indulged in a hearty spread of ale and other spirits of the fermented variety. Emboldened, someone had almost immediately cried out for music and was rewarded by a resourceful comrade, who had come to the fête well-prepared and promptly produced a fiddle. The buoyant strains of music prompted another boisterous cheer, and soon a handful of revelers were dancing around the great celebration pyre while smiling onlookers clapped, keeping time.
Artemis Lux was not among them – not yet, anyway. The Lioness of Dxun had retreated behind her customary excuse of duty that she invoked when she wished to avoid something, usually by creating tasks for herself where there were none, or by claiming some other pressing business that required her immediate attention. Tonight, Artemis had conveniently discovered a stack of geopolitical memoranda left for her approval that simply could not wait until morning.
While all the others reveled outside, Artemis sat alone in the dim lighting of her personal quarters, perched at her escritoire as she poured over the dense files with an almost forced intensity. Thin brows furrowed as she found herself reading several lines over and over again but never registering the words. Her mind was somewhere else. “Oh, blast it all,” She finally muttered, pushing the memoranda aside with an exasperated sigh and running her fingers through the glory of her dark curls. Vivid green eyes flickered toward the door. Even while shut tight, it barely muffled the music and laughter that eddied in from beyond.
Artemis frowned. She knew what was about to happen, and she resented it.
Moments later, she had dressed in the flowing scarlet linens that were her signature and was stepping boldly out into the night.
The dusky air was cool but electric as it prickled over her olive skin. Artemis inhaled it lovingly, gratified by the change from the cooped up quarters of her study. A decent walk spanned between the barracks and the courtyard, and she was grateful for that as well – she needed the time to steel herself.
Two weeks had passed since the crash landing that had almost taken her life. More notably, two weeks had passed since her respite on the strange planet that had served as a temporary sanctuary before her rescue. Through it all, she had not been alone.
For two weeks, Artemis had been avoiding the man who had kept her alive during the harrowing ordeal. Their time together lost in the wilderness had brought her dangerously close to admitting a growing truth between them that neither had yet acted on or revealed. It was a powerful truth – a truth that, once spoken, would change everything.
Returning to civilization had restored Artemis to her senses. She had busied herself with work and taken alternative routes through the encampment to avoid confronting the inevitable, but that had not prevented her from lying awake at night, remembering. It was only now, as the courtyard grew closer, that she accepted what she knew from the start: no matter the lengths she took to hide from it, to fight it, to stamp it out like ashes from a flame - something was happening.
Powerless to fate, the Lioness emerged from the crowd and into the firelight.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

The moon was high over the treetops, and the sound of Kad’s people lofted over the crackle of the fire. His eyes darted about as several came to speak with him. One was straight to business as her loyalty was to one of the faithful, but not to the people. As the request droned on, Kad found his mind wandering. There was one person he had not seen, and the only one he wished to see.

Kad’s mind kept returning to the cave, the crash, the woman he had been with. They had connected on a level that both were too stubborn to admit, or too afraid of what would happen once it was said. There had been a lot said, but every word had danced around the one admission either wanted to make. The feeling still burned in Kad’s chest as though her branding iron was searing her crest deep within. A deep bond had been formed, one which Kad knew he could not escape, nor did he want to.

The flames of the pyre only served to remind him of the fire they shared to stay warm. His mind revisited her tone form curled into his as though the Manda himself had made them to fit. She complimented his shape, and nothing had ever seemed more natural.

Sapphire hued eyes caught a glimpse of her form, a shadowy figure as the fire cast its luminescent veil about her. Kad cursed inside for allowing her a full fortnight of avoidance. Though he had not wasted the time, though he had busy, his own heart was fully reconciled to what occurred in the cave he longed to return to.

His eyes did not move from her, and though it was rude of him, Kad left the woman speaking to him of business. Waving her off as he silently walked passed her the goran was only looking at the Lioness of Dxun. It was the name from their songs, but to Kad it was exactly who Artemis was. Her curly mane and scarlet clothes spoke of the nature and ferocity she carried with her. Silently Kad moved to her knowing she had seen him now.

There was still a silent understanding between them, for Kad could think of no other reason she had avoided him save for the business they conducted on Mandalore. His heart raced the closer he came, thumping and beating a hard cadence in his chest as if the drum of war was sounding. He paused, stood before her dressed as the northern farm boy he had always been, and in his own Kad-like manner smiled as he took her hand and led her away from the crowd of people. It felt as if a million pairs of eyes were focused on them, and yet it also felt as though they were the only two who existed in the entire universe. Still Kad was loathe to take the attention away from the young couple who had pledged their lives to one another. Whatever would transpire between Kad and Artemis tonight would do so under the dutiful watch of the stars.

Kad drew Artemis away from the pyre, weaving through the crowd of merry dancers, drunk on whatever ale Kad no longer allowed to touch his lips until they found themselves safe from prying eyes and gossiping lips. “I was hoping I'd see you,” he said as his rough, work calloused hand came to her cheek, drawing her forehead to his. He let his head rest against hers for sometime as his thumb gently caressed her cheek.

For Kad it was as though the two weeks had vanished in an instant. His eyes searched for any sign from hers that she had not steeled her resolve and would perhaps allow what she had silently confessed to be plain.

The sounds of joy and laughter were carried along the breeze, lifting the music to their ears as well. Kad could feel the electricity between them as the atmosphere of the night only seemed to embolden him in a way that not even the ale could not. He moved closer to her, and as the music still played its reverie, Kad moved them along to its time, and urged his Lioness to drop her guard and dance with him.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

“Lady Lux,” came one greeting. “Artemis,” came another. The Lioness inclined her dark head and smiled, but the curve of her mouth was subdued, even thin. She came to stand at the edge of the pyre in a sweep of flowing fabric, an elegant but formidable figure against the ebullient roar of orange and yellow flames. It was more than just an errant movement, more than a simple step from the shadows into the light – it was a choice. Artemis was no longer hiding.

For a moment, her shrewd attention remained transfixed on the fire. She was too proud to search for the one responsible for her present vexation. Hubris would always be her most damnable feature, rivaled only by her stubbornness – so much that a valid argument existed that she was the one responsible for her own angst. Of course, like everything else, she was too stubborn and proud to admit it.

As the jollity carried on around her, however, Artemis could not quell the growing sensation of loneliness in her chest. She would never use that term to describe what she felt – no one had ever accused her of being a sentimental woman, nor did she intend to plunge into something so profoundly useless as melancholia now – but there was a striking emptiness about standing alone beside an open fire. The other revelers did not count. They weren’t the company she missed.

Artemis internally swore. She was a fool for coming here – a fool for expecting anything productive to come of it, when she herself was so wrought with ego. She had made up her mind to leave the celebration entirely, to pay her respects to the newlywed couple before retreating with her dignity intact, when something pulled her attention across the open ring of sand that enclosed the fire. Her breath caught in her throat.

There he was.

Even without his hunter-green beskar’gam, the hulking silhouette of Kad Tor was unmistakable. Artemis had grown uncomfortably familiar with the distinctive configuration of muscles and sinews that encased his six-foot, two-inch frame and would have known him in complete darkness. She knew how he moved, how he walked – even knew the expression he made when he wanted something and had set out to get it. It was the very expression he wore now, like that of a young bull staking a claim: indomitable, inimitable, fearless.

The crowd continued to laugh and dance and churn around him, but they had faded into nothing more than white noise and shadow in Artemis’ periphery. It was as if Kad were traveling toward her through some strange tunnel where both time and motion were suspended, where only he stood out in gleaming color – the blonde of his hair like burnished gold, his eyes as bright as sapphires. This was pure instinct at work, the basest and most natural physiological reaction: all of Artemis’ senses had converged to fixate on Kad.

She stood stock still as he drew closer. Her sense of sight had intensified, sharp olive eyes dilating and refocusing to take him in with stunning clarity. The sound of her own breathing, the veritable drum of her heart, and the heavy rise and fall of his boots against the earth were all magnified in her ears. For a fleeting moment, she could even detect his scent: earthen, woodsy, and something else that was so uniquely him that she could have recognized it blindfolded. There were no words between them, only a silent understanding – when Kad took her hand, Artemis turned and followed.

For two weeks she had avoided him, had avoided this. For two weeks she had resolved to evade the inevitable for as long as her clever mind could, but as Kad paused to take her cheek into his large, coarsened palm, Artemis did not pull away. Her forehead met his.

I was hoping I’d see you, she heard him say.

“I’ve been busy,” came her murmured reply, her voice hoarse as it filled the narrow space between them. It was a determined but ultimately weak attempt at deflection – the emotion in her expressive green eyes betrayed her. Before she could summon the reserves of her resolve, Kad’s arm had already ensnared her narrow waist and pulled her closer. He was coaxing her into a dance.

Artemis canted her head to the side and looked up to him with what she intended to be a disapproving frown, but the reluctant dimple that pulled at the corner of her cheek, and the spark that ignited her feline gaze, said otherwise. He knew how to disarm her, and she might have resented him for it had she not been preoccupied with a singularly different emotion. Artemis resolved to revisit her strategy of avoidance later. For now, they would dance.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

“You have made yourself busy,” Kad corrected her with a voice as soft and gentle as ever. There was something about what happened on the planet where they had crashed and survived which had given Kad more boldness in his choice of words with the Lioness. He had done the same, made himself busy, after his drunken proposition, a black mark on the otherwise pure canvas of their relationship. He knew all too well that she had been hiding, gathering her thoughts, discovering her own emotions. Artemis was a stoic woman when she wanted to be, but she was still a woman, and she still felt deeply.

Artemis pulled away from him, looking up at him with her intoxicating emerald gaze which he could read expert precision. The tension she felt was etched in them, but her true feelings were always betrayed by one look beyond the surface. Her lip pulled at her cheek, tugging at the dimple Kad had come to find alluring. She would dance with him.

Kad did not let her quit until the music had ended either. Each movement had come together with each new motion of the melody which guided their dance. Together they were fluid, almost as though they were one. Their hunting together had already made them one in movement, and this dance only confirmed further that they were simply two halves of one whole. Kad refused to believe anything less because it was that belief which made him hope that Artemis would one day admit what her he eyes continued to betray.

When the melody ended Kad continued his hold of the Lioness. He breathed in her scent, floral and pure. There was also her own unique fragrance which Kad found completely intoxicating. His forehead pressed to hers again as he breathed deep and slowly let out the breath with a sigh of satisfaction. It was the sound of someone who had been reunited with someone they had missed deeply, someone whose very soul was bonded to his own.

FInally he pulled his head from hers and looked into her eyes again.

“You do not need to hide from me Ar’ika,” his baritone voice uttered in a near whisper.

The sound of revelry carried over the wind once more. Anew melody played with the joyous sounds of string and flute, yet time for Kad and Artemis stood still. They were frozen, alive in their own world. It was not their sanctuary, not their cave, but Kad had captured her for the moment, and she him.

Thoughts filled his mind of breaking the silence of what was going on between them. Both of them knew what was happening, though neither spoke of it. He feared that if he did then she would retreat deep into her defenses. Though Kad also feared if he did not, Artemis would be lost to him forever.

Silence was not his friend. His eyes still bore the look of a young bull who was determined to have his prize. It was the maturity of his years, and the memory of his mistake, which held his tongue captive. He wrestled within himself, two wolves fighting to win, until he could no longer bear the turmoil and the ache it caused. Consequences be damned. Kad needed Artemis to know he knew, and he needed her to know that it was okay.

“I know,” he said nervously, though continued with more confidence. “Your eyes have been telling me your secrets since we crashed on that planet.”

Kad looked Artemis in the eye.

“I know why you’re hiding, and it has not wounded me...”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Artemis held his gaze – frozen, anticipating the inevitable. She knew, deep down in the hidden place where she stored the truths she chose to ignore, that she could only keep running from Kad for as long as he allowed her to run. It was a stupid game that she insisted on perpetuating not only out of pride, but out of fear of what would happen if she gave in. Until now, Kad had played along with her despite the unspoken understanding that they shared. As Artemis looked up to him through the glimmering firelight, however, something in his blue eyes informed her that tonight, he was no longer playing.

His words struck her like an arrow to the heart.

Kad had called her out, revealing something about his own emotions in the meantime. It was as close to a confession as either one of them had ever come, and for reasons that escaped even Artemis’ keen mind, it caused her extraordinary pain. It was the sort of pain, frightening and visceral and rare, that rushed into the soul and forced honesty up out of even the most guarded of places – the sort of pain that only accompanied love.

For a fleeting moment, Artemis felt her resolve slip precariously into surrender. She grew pliant in Kad’s arms, allowing him to draw her closer. Exhilaration prickled down the smooth olive of her exposed arms, but whether it was the chill of the crisp night air, or the familiar warmth of his embrace, or the thrill of being so near to him, Artemis would not know. All she knew in this moment was that fourteen nights had passed since she last held him, back on the planet where they had crashed. She held him out of necessity then. Now, it was much different.

Artemis had missed him.

For each of those fourteen nights apart, she had lain awake in her personal quarters, tucked away in the barracks, trying to cure herself of what she felt certain was temporary madness. She had cursed and sworn as she tossed in her bed, unable to suppress the thoughts of him that commanded her attention and seemed hell-bent on tormenting her. It wasn’t that her thoughts were so terrible – they were the contrary. Rather, it was the notion that the small taste of joy those thoughts promised could be hers – could be theirs - if she would only allow it. So far, only Kad could claim that kind of bravery. There was too much at stake for Artemis. She had already lost everything, had already built a life just to watch it burn. Starting over now was more terrifying than losing it all had ever been.

Artemis snapped back to attention in an instant. The softness bled from her body, and her gaze returned to stone.

“Then you’ll know why I won’t discuss this,” She murmured, her voice low and harsh. “I can’t.”

It was as much of an acknowledgment of her true feelings as Kad had ever gotten, but Artemis did not linger on it. As soon as she spoke, she removed herself from his embrace with the haste of someone afraid of catching an illness. She feared the repercussions of lingering too long in his arms – now more than ever.

“There are greater things at work around us,” Artemis said firmly, claiming several steps backward. Emotion glimmered in her sharp emerald eyes as she watched Kad’s face, but her features were otherwise restrained and hard. Beneath the surface, it was clear that her own words pained her. “Rebuilding our planet, our culture, our people’s lives – I can’t afford distractions.”

I can’t afford losing another love.

“I won’t deny I’ve been avoiding you – we both know I’d be foolish to pretend otherwise,” She admitted quietly, allowing the import of her words to sink in. “But if you were expecting some grand overture by my appearance tonight, you were woefully mistaken.”

There was a heavy silence before Artemis shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” She muttered, flickering her gaze toward the crowd that still reveled around the bonfire, then back to Kad. Without another word, the Lioness turned over her shoulder in a fan of raven hair and a crimson fabric and set back out into the night.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

The stubborn nature of her words cut places which were deeper than Kad had felt pain in some time. In a swift jab of her sharp and witty tongue, Artemis tried to put whatever resolve had come alive in Kad to confront her their shared feelings. They were still unspoken regardless of the point Kad had made about knowing, and while Artemis made a point to claim Kad knew why she could not discuss them, Kad feigned ignorance. He knew why, but refused to understand it.

For a brief moment Kad was shocked. The way Artemis had melted into his arms, allowing her guard to fall so quickly, it had given him hope that the place they had found in their cave had been enough. An entire fortnight had passed and Kad’s arms had still not forgotten how her body filled them. He longed for her embrace, could feel it in his sleep, only to wake and find his arms void of the one woman who belonged there.

Sapphire eyes regarded the woman washing over her form to find anything which would deny the words she spoke. As their eyes met, Kad knew. They had given her away to him before, and they betrayed her now. Perhaps her resolve to make Kad back away would have worked had her eyes not begged him to continue. While her eyes told him that Artemis was his prize, and her heart belonged to him, the rest of her still had to be won.

“A distraction… we both know that is not how you feel.”

There was more to say, but Artemis was determined to relieve herself of the situation. In an act born of stubborn pride the woman turned, her raven locks whipping around as though they were a cape draping from her shoulders. Kad wished he could say this surprised him, but it did not. Artemis was nothing if not predictable by now when it came to facing her own feelings. Rather than face them, she ran from them, hiding from the one person who made her feel as though she were vulnerable and exposed. Kad had let her hide. He'd permitted this behavior hoping it would bring her to the place where she would admit her feelings, but it had not.

The gaping wound which Kad felt was partly his own doing for allowing her behavior. He could not let her retreat this time. There would be no healing to this wound if he did. Artemis stormed off, but Kad pursued. His voice raised for her to here his words as she retreated toward her quarters.

“I will not relent, Artemis Lux. Perhaps if you could shield your true feelings I would, but your eyes do not lie. You have come to love me as much as I love you,” Kad’s voice finally putting words to what they had been dancing around. Still he was not done. Kad was determined to put to words everything their silent understanding had refused to up until this point.

“I was not a distraction in our cave. Another two nights and this pyre of celebration tonight would have been for us, of that I have no doubt. I know why you run, why you refuse to face this thing which happening between us.” The warrior paused hoping it would cause her steps to falter, but she was as determined as ever to be rid of him in this moment. Though true to his word, Kad kept pursuing. She had wounded him, and like a wounded beast, Kad attacked.

The pursuit continued until they reached the barracks. The makeshift home for so many of their people. Kad had learned to call it home, as had Artemis. This building had given them many memories. One which Kad wished to erase, another Kad held onto for the sale of hope that Artemis could give in to what she felt. They were stronger together, but in her fear the raven haired Mando’ad refused to admit it.

Kad ran ahead, blocking her path so she could not reach the door of her quarters. His imposing figure standing guard over her escape. His statuesque resolve spoke of no hope in passing him. Artemis would face this, even if Kad angered her in the process. She would finally hear him.

“You run because you are afraid. Where is the Lioness who slayed the zakkeg? Where is the woman who rushed into the jungle to save a boy lost and helpless to the beasts which prey upon those who enter? Where is the mighty huntress that slayed the wild boar so we could survive? You are acting like a coward, a scared little kitten that does not resemble my Lioness of Dxun.”

Kad's voice was raised, though in his eyes Artemis would see the pain she had caused him and the resolve to love her regardless. He had promised her dead he would.

“Life is for the living, Ar’ika, but if you allow the fear of losing someone you love to keep you from embracing him, then you have allowed fear to win.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

It was only a matter of time. Months of stolen glances followed by evasiveness, of near-confessions covered up by vehement denials, of brushes with death and heated arguments and journeys together across the stars had led to this moment. From their first meeting on Dxun so long ago, to the infinite miles through wild space they had traveled at each other’s side, Artemis had successfully evaded the one thing she had come to fear the most: the truth. Despite Kad’s efforts, she had boarded it up, fenced it in, and built fortresses around her heart to keep it out – to keep him out – but tonight, the floodgates were burst open wide. Artemis felt like a cub washed out in the aftermath. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, and if she didn’t move fast enough, she would surely drown.

Only her dignity kept her from breaking into a full-fledged run. Crimson skirts swept around her agile legs as she stalked forward through the darkness, desperate to rebuild the space that Kad threatened to close between them. It was to no avail. Every step she took, he followed close behind, openly pursuing her in a way that neither of them had ever before allowed. For once, Artemis wasn’t the predator – and she was afraid. White-hot adrenaline ricocheted throughout her system while blood pounded mightily in her veins, propelling her forward so that when they finally reached the barracks, all she could hear were his words resounding in her head: You have come to love me as much as I love you. Mere exposure to the words was blinding.

Artemis needed to escape. She made to bolt for the door of her personal quarters, but Kad got there first. When his hulking frame stepped across the entrance, Artemis stopped short and drew back abruptly, growling incomprehensible expletives as she turned her back toward him and ran exasperated fingers through her wild mass of hair. For a moment, she stared hard at the ground and simply listened as he carried on behind her, relentless as the tide breaking against a cliff. Every impenitent word of truth he spoke beat away at her resolve – at her sanity, at her soul – until at last she could endure the pain no longer.

“You’re a damn fool!” Artemis finally roared, whipping back around to face him with hell in her eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps we should be afraid? We’ve lost everything – our families, our homeworld, our very livelihoods. We might have reclaimed Mandalore, but what does it matter if our people are too scattered and weak to defend her? The hounds of the galaxy are biting at the Mando’ade’s heels as we speak, and you would prefer to court me as if the whole world weren’t burning down around us!”

Artemis was shouting, and it was clear that she had only just begun.

“Mandalore needs strong leaders, now more than ever! You are the best chance at survival our people have. How dare you lecture me on cowardice when you spend your days pining for my affection instead of strategizing our next moves! What happens when our enemies arrive and we’re too tangled up in each other to notice them? What happens when you let your guard fall for one precious moment and you end up dead? Have you ever thought about what that would mean for our people? What that would mean for me? I assure you that it would mean more than you could possibly imagine!"

Artemis advanced upon him as she spoke, drawing herself up beneath his chin as if she were seven feet tall, instead of a scant few inches over five. Something in her demeanor had shifted.

“Let me make one thing very clear,” She murmured dangerously. “I have many faults, but cowardice is not among them. I would kill a man before allowing him to rule over me, and I could not suffer a man who would allow me to rule over him. My nature does not lend itself to leading a quiet life – my trade is in blood, and politics, and war. I will not be domesticated. Do you understand?”

Without waiting for a response, Artemis seized his shoulders and shoved him hard against the smooth metal door, pinning him in place with a strength that belied her small size.

“Do you understand?” She thundered through gritted teeth, shaking him with an almost feverish, panicked intensity. Brilliant green eyes blazed up toward him through such raw, unfiltered emotion that it was unclear where one sentiment ended and another one began. Anger, desperation, longing, and fear coalesced and churned across her features as she searched his face in earnest. After a moment, her hands loosened their grip and slowly dropped down to her sides. The Lioness was trembling.

“Then let me say the damned thing I’ve known from the start and be done with it,” Artemis whispered hoarsely. “Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, Kad Tor. Are you satisfied with your victory?”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

There was a sting to the words which Artemis used to rebuke Kad for his accusation of cowardice. He had not intended to wound her, but only to provoke her. His choice had been a gamble, one which he knew would either make her admit what they both knew, or it would see her closing herself off from him forever. The later was his fear when she turned her back to him. In all the time she had been avoiding him, it had never been with her back turned.

“You’re a damn fool,” Artemis said facing him with a fury in her eyes that Kad had yet to see. It was even greater than the time he propositioned her in a drunken stupor. For some odd reason this did not make him afraid, but rather he hoped.

Kad let her speak. There were moments he was sure she could be interrupted, but there was no natural break to do so. Her rampage was leading her somewhere, and Kad would see it through no matter how much it stung. For a brief moment his eyes grew wide as she called him a coward as well, a coward for not leading their people or doing his duty. Artemis spoke of the fear she had of losing him and what that would do to her. Kad only nodded.

Artemis was a fool if she believed those thoughts did not haunt his mind. Why did she think he had healed her on the planet where they had crashed? His fear of losing her to death had always been greater than his fear of losing her, though she still live. He could love from afar if he had to, but he would not see her die, not if he could help it.

She continued her lecture, and Kad held his silence. Artemis defended her courage, but it had yet to produce an answer to the one place he had challenged her. The goran did his best to hide the smile that wanted to burst from within as she told him about the type of man that could win her affection. A smirk threatened when she said she would not be domesticated as it brought to mind a moment in their cave where she had jokingly accused Kad of being a domesticated man of the north.

Kad was pinned to her door. Artemis showing a display of strength Kad was already familiar with. He could smell her floral scent once more she was so close, though he dare not allow himself to be lost in it just yet.

“Do you understand?

Her voice rang true as true as she searched for an answer. She would find it the same place that she had found all of her answers before. Kad looked into her eyes long enough for her to see that he did.

She was trembling. Her voice barely a whisper as the confession of her love rest on desperate ears. It was her final question which haunted him. Was he satisfied with his victory? Should he be? Still, he could not stand to see HIS lioness tremble. Nothing had changed because the words had been spoken. Their understanding simply was stated now rather than being a silent thing between them.

Kad stepped toward her. His work and war calloused hands set gently on her shoulders, gliding gently down her arms as he did the one thing he knew would always draw her in. For the second time that night, Kad placed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

He held her briefly.

A slow deep breath was drawn into the warrior’s lungs as he began to speak. “I am not a coward, but I am afraid. I will not lose you to death if it is within my power, but I also cannot deny myself the chance to make you mine and to be yours.”

Kad drew a hand to her cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

“Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, Artemis Lux,” Kad said in a soft confession which seemed to ring loud as his the drum of his heart beat for what may come next. “It has never been the way of our people that a man or woman should rule over the other. I have never sought to be your lord, only your equal.”

Kad had led them to this point in every way, pulling Artemis along when she refused to be so pliable to his interests. It only seemed fitting that he lead them further still. Resting his forehead to hers no longer seemed fitting. There was something new stirring within him which made the man want to claim his victory. With his hand still on her cheek, Kad guided her lips to his. The movement was intentional as all of Kad’s displays had been, and in a purposeful motion he captured her.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Kad had barely finished speaking before Artemis threw her arms around his neck. She pulled her body flush against his, feminine curves crashing into masculine angles with an urgency that was deeper and more meaningful than the mere corporeal. After all this time – after all that they had endured together, after all that they had lost, and in brazen defiance of everything they still stood to lose – it was love that brought the wall between them crumbling down. It was love that drove Artemis into his kiss at last.

She sought his lips, his touch, with a fierce desperation. Fingers pushed through his golden hair one moment, only to graze down his back the next. She felt her way over the broad plane of his shoulders, traced the sturdy outline of his jaw, and demanded him closer with her hands as if her very survival depended on their proximity. His body was the oasis she had denied herself for so long, and she drank him in with the exaltation and relief of a starved wanderer.

Without breaking their kiss, Artemis ventured a hand toward the door and fumbled around until she found the keypad. The entrance to her bedroom rushed open and just as soon closed behind them in a metallic hiss of air. They moved as one over the threshold, still entangled in one another’s embrace, stopping only when they collided with the cushioned edge of her bed. Swollen-lipped and breathless, Artemis came up for air to meet his gaze. Sharp emerald eyes softened as she searched his face. Slowly, intentionally, she guided his forehead to rest against her own, lingering there for a moment before tilting her dark head upward and kissing him deeply.

Artemis said nothing when they emerged to regard each other once more. Only a knowing smile tugged at the corner of her cheek as she reached for the lamp and extinguished the light.

​

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Cold autumnal rain fell heavily against the roof of the barracks. The sounds of celebration from the courtyard had long since faded, as most of the revelers had either turned in for the night or, dissuaded by the sudden downpour, moved the party elsewhere. The barracks themselves were peaceful and still, save for the distant rumble of thunder and flash of lightening that illumined the midnight sky.

Artemis lay awake in the warmth of Kad’s arms, watching the deluge beat steadily against the sleek windowpane. Sable curls fell tousled and wild around her bare shoulders, and a rosy sheen clung lovingly to her olive skin. Beneath her cheek, Kad’s chest rose and fell in time with his breathing, which signified to Artemis that he was sleeping contentedly. She smiled. His easy temperament – so opposite her own – was something she admired, but a small part of her envied him. Even in the afterglow of their private interval, sleep had only stolen over her briefly before, inevitably, her unconquerable mind ambushed her peacefulness with an onslaught of thoughts. From where Kad cradled her protectively against his side, Artemis stared out into the darkness and began to remember.

Three years had passed since she last shared her bed with a man, and that man had been her husband. Since his death, Artemis had taken no other lovers and sworn to herself that she would keep her bed empty indefinitely. Her solemn vow wasn’t motivated by puritanical ideals of abstinence, but rather by two of the deepest, most visceral strands of emotion that plagued the bereaved human heart: fear and grief. It was the same fear and grief that, until tonight, Artemis had used like armor to shield herself from Kad.

Before tonight, it would have felt like a betrayal to allow another man to take her into his arms. Now Artemis knew she could no longer hide behind that defense. The six tenants of Resol’nare called on every Mandalorian to manifest an abiding commitment to their culture, and an inherent thread of that commitment was soldiering on for the betterment of their people. What would Balon say, if he were alive to witness Artemis clinging to her mourning shroud like a frightened child? A subdued glint of humor flickered over her features as she imagined his colorful tirade of expletives, but her amusement faded just as quickly as it came.

Moving on from Balon to make room for Kad meant accepting that Balon was truly gone, and making room for Kad necessarily meant exposing herself to the renewed possibility of loss. Loss, Artemis now understood, was the opposite side of the coin that encompassed any great love. One errant flick of fate could doom a lover to isolation or land them in eternal paradise. This simple truth wasn’t new to Artemis – she had known it for quite some time – but what was new was the rising swell of acceptance she felt give way in her heart. The revelation that she would rather love Kad, and be loved by him, and risk losing everything, than to continue through life alone, was so powerful and heavy that it might have crushed her.

Thunder boomed overhead.

Artemis’ already racing heart leapt. She disentangled herself from Kad’s sleepy embrace and pushed herself to seated, feeling an instant chill when their bodies separated and the lush white coverlet fell away. As her breathing settled, and as her vision adjusted to pan across the shadowy corners of her room, the fleeting thought occurred to her that, for the first time, she felt like she was home.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

There was only one truth Kad knew. This truth could not be denied, and it was the one fact by which Kad weighed every decision he had made in recent months. Kad Tor loved Artemis Lux. Some would say it was more complicated, for Artemis it had been. Kad had seen everything as simply as that from the day her steady hand and calm touch on his shoulder proved strong enough to quell the raging beast that had been allowed to run wild for so long. From that moment Kad had known only one thing, Artemis Lux was meant to be his.

The universe had been through so much turmoil. Kad and Artemis had been through their own personal hell just to be brought to this moment. Their kiss was not the innocent first kiss of two young ones who did not understand the power behind the simple act. Rather, it was the raw and passionate kiss of two individuals who shared a desperate need and want of the other.

Kad’s hand felt for the door as Artemis fumbled for the keypad. The last thing he wanted was to lean against it only for it open as he did, sending the two soon to be lovers to the ground. The kiss, the passion which it contained, and the demanding search of Artemis’ hands over Kad's features told him where this was headed. Everything had changed by speaking one simple truth, a simple truth which would undoubtedly complicate the lives they had grown accustomed to.

As the next several moments passed, however, Kad didn't care. There was Artemis and there was him. Their love for each other had conquered everything that had stood in the way, and broken every barrier that threatened to keep them apart. Their bodies moved as one as they did during the hunt and in the dance they had shared several moments before. Green eyes met blue as the lights were extinguished and what the kiss had foreshadowed became their reality.

------

A clap of thunder startled Kad, and pulled him from his peaceful sleep. Even after his eyes had closed after their tryst, Kad’s mind continued to replay every detail, sensation, and emotion of that union. The past eight months had been leading to this point. Every hunt, every stolen glance, every touch of his forehead to hers, all of it built to this point in time. There was something about it which had made Kad feel as though he had been dreaming. He feared that his eyes would open and find himself back in his room waking to an empty bed.

Slowly his eyelids peeled back from their position and everything came into focus. A chill hit his bare chest which caused his head to turn and see if Artemis was still there. She was, and he was still in her quarters. The sound of rain tapped against the window, and Kad listened. He watched her, drinking in the rise and fall of her bare back as she breathed. Kad reached out and ran his calloused palm along the smooth skin of which he was now intimately familiar.

“I think we missed the rest of the party,” Kad said as his lips tugged into a proud, smug, little smirk.

He sat up, leaning on one hand as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. His free hand swept her long, untamed locks of hair to the other shoulder to avoid a mouthful of hair. Kad pressed his forehead to the same shoulder he had kissed.

Whatever he wanted to say poured out of him in that one action. Yes, they had acted on their love and said more to each other than words would ever be able to express, but now, after, there was more Kad could not say. He did not have a masterful way with words like Artemis had. Kad was a simple man in many ways, but that did not mean he did not feel deeply. If anything the reckless behavior before Artemis stepped into his life was a testament to that fact.

That thought allowed guilt to seep inside to a small degree. Kad knew her bed had stayed empty and cold until now, and his had not. Yes, the past eight months he had not taken another woman into his bed, nor had he allowed anything alcoholic to touch his lips, but Kad had handled his grief in opposite ways. The motivation had been the same, fear of loss, fear of loving another, guilt that he could not save his family. To put it all to one word, it was because of pride.

“I made a promise to him,” Kad said as he sat up the rest of the way to embrace her. It was in part because he wanted to and partly because the autumn night was making him cold. “Should I tell you…”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

The trail of roughened fingertips down the smooth plane of her back drew Artemis away from the ocean of her swimming thoughts and returned her to the moment. Kad was awake. She felt his weight shift heavily on the bed beside her, a novel sensation after so many nights alone. At his familiar touch, the baby-fine hairs of her neck stood on end as a prickle of warmth radiated down her spine, lean muscles rippling beneath her skin in response. It seemed that Kad had discovered her somatic weakness during their intimate exploration of one another, and he now had her full attention. She smiled ruefully at his remark.

“I don’t think we missed much,” Artemis murmured, instinctually leaning into the kiss he pressed against the exposed curve of her shoulder. She lowered her gaze and turned to meet him with softened green eyes, lifting a hand to cradle the back of his golden head as he rested it against her arm. For a moment, Artemis was silent, caressing his hair with a slow, feminine tenderness that had lain dormant in her fighter’s heart for years. Moving swiftly and violently, with no accommodations for softness or weakness, had kept her alive through the worst of the hundred hells she’d suffered. Now, she sat in reverent stillness among their sanctuary of blankets, holding the man she loved close.

Everything before this moment felt like another lifetime. If Artemis were a foolish woman, she might have wondered at how they had gotten there – but she wasn’t, and she knew exactly how.

The slaying of her husband and son, and the death of Kad’s wife and their children.

The total annihilation of their planet, and the scattering of their people across the stars.

The call to arms of the Mand’alor that they had both answered, having nothing left to lose.

The rebuilding of their lives and their entire civilization, where they had found one other amid the rubble.

Mandalorian tradition scoffed at the concept of fate. To the vod, it was a fanciful, self-indulgent notion touted by Force-lovers and weaker individuals who were unable to cope with the frightening realities of a chaotic universe. Fate was a way to explain the destruction and death that littered the cosmos at random, to insulate oneself from having to toil through the fires of the galaxy to achieve any kind of greatness. Artemis had always shared her comrades’ views about fate, but as she felt Kad’s heart beating steadily at her side, she found herself beginning to wonder.

His voice broke the silence.

“A promise?” Artemis repeated. She furrowed her brows and watched, perplexed, as Kad pushed himself up to seated, sharp mind working to analyze the cryptic words even as he coaxed her back into his embrace. He was a strong man, outsizing her two to three times over, but her mental fortitude matched his physical strength and could have moved mountains. Artemis wouldn’t melt into his arms without an answer.

Small but resolute hands splayed against his chest in protest as she twisted around to face him, soft white sheets whispering around the lower half of her body with the movement. Even while sitting on the bed, Artemis had to crane her neck to search his gaze. As she looked up toward him, something buried within his clear blue eyes told her what she wanted to know. Something buried still deeper told her that she had known it all along.

“A promise to whom?” Artemis asked hoarsely, anticipating his response. One long raven curl fell down her bare collarbone as she ventured a palm up toward his cheek, brushing her thumb along his jawline. Her voice grew gentle but commanding. “Tell me.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

A smile pulled at Kad’s lips with the sound of Aretmis’ reply. No, they had not missed much, nor would Kad ever think he was short changed for missing the rest of the celebration. Kad had what he wanted. The Lioness of Dxun was not just his, but he was now hers. Another ballad would come to him later. For now his mind was still fixated on one thought. Artemis Lux was his prize, and he was blessed by the Manda because of it.

There had been too much to get the two of them to this point, and Kad knew there were more battles ahead. Tonight he would savor the victory he had. The goran had learned to be patient with the Lioness. No matter how often she had avoided him, she always came out of her hiding when she was ready. Kad knew he had forced the conversation, but after their time in the cave he had to. Dancing around the truth did them no good, and his reward had been more than worth it.

She pushed on him, refusing to be drawn into his arm without an answer. Kad smiled. This was a more playful side of Artemis he was not accustomed to, but it fit her. The woman who was stoic in public was not in private. It was one more thing about her to love.

Artemis wanted to know about the promise. Kad was certain she already knew of whom he had spoken before she even asked.

Kad leaned into her touch, the soft caress of her thumb more inviting than she would ever know. His fingers reached to play with the lone curl which fell past her collarbone, though his eyes were held captive by hers.

“I made a promise to Balon…” his voice trailed off realizing it was the first time he had spoken his name in her presence aside from his daily remembrance. Kad had promised Artemis he would include them, and he had never wavered from his word.

Kad moved his hand to take hers from his cheek. He held it, running his thumb on the top of Artemis’ hand as he spoke again.

“I promised him that I would never try and replace him or push him out of your heart, though I would love you as much as he and endeavor to love you even more.”

Blue eyes fell away. Saying it out loud to Artemis seemed to change things even more. Still Kad pulled his eyes back to hers.

“And until the time comes to make another, that is also my promise to you.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

I made a promise to Balon.

It was as if Kad had plunged a hand inside her heart and squeezed. Artemis felt her chest tighten with emotion, while something deep within her core threatened to burst or break. She rarely heard Balon’s name spoken out loud anymore, and when she did, the effect it had on her was powerful. Tonight, however, was different. It wasn’t the sound of Balon’s name that moved her so deeply, but rather the promise that Kad made in his honor. The promise was simple enough on its face, but Artemis understood its deeper implications.

Kad was asking her to stay. Not merely to stay for one night, but for every night thereafter. To stay with him every day, every morning and every afternoon, to give herself to him as something more than a passing companion or a source of warmth in the darkness. He was asking her to start over with him, to build the sort of life together that they had both been so cruelly denied. He was asking her to be brave, to make the choice to love again, when they’d both loved once and lost.

Artemis fell silent. Brows furrowed and lips pursed into an unyielding line, stoic features working to mask the competing tenderness and turmoil she felt inside. He had stumped her by saying everything she needed to hear, and for some reason, that vexed her. She suddenly wanted a reason to be angry with him, to rebuke him, to throw him out of her bed and into the rain that still beat steadily against the rooftop – but as soon as she readied herself to do so, she faltered.

She couldn’t.

She didn’t want to.

He would never know how badly she wanted to take him into her arms in that moment. The wall between them had already fallen, and there was no longer any way around it: Kad was everything good and noble and true, and Artemis loved him – loved him wildly – so much that it made her draw back from him in fear. She slipped her hand away from his and returned it to the bed at her side.

“Those are worthy promises,” Artemis murmured, but her tone had grown dubious and restrained. “Are you certain you can keep them?”

In an instant, it was clear that the wary Lioness had returned to replace the demonstrative kitten that Kad had briefly enjoyed.

“We aren’t children this time, Kad’ika,” She reminded him, shaking her dark head. “If we choose to do this – whatever this is – it will be different from what either of us had with Balon or Ralize. We can’t make the same attractive promises we made when we were young and had no idea what it meant to be Mando’ade. Balon promised me a lifetime together, and he died defending Mandalore.”

Saying those words might have pained her at one time, but not anymore. Artemis lifted her chin in defiance.

“I would die for our homeworld, just as he did. I would die for you. I don’t have to ask to know that you would do the same. Could you handle that?” The question lingered on the tension building between them while Artemis paused. Her expression softened, taking in the blue of his eyes. “I don’t know if I could.”

Another crack of thunder sounded overhead. Artemis snapped her attention toward the window, chest rising and falling with her quickened breathing. For a moment, she simply listened to the deluge, unsure whether it was moving closer or growing stronger. She didn’t like storms – it was something about not being able to control them – but now wasn’t the time to admit it. Black curls shone against her skin in the hazy moonlight as she shifted and re-settled on the bed in front of him, gathering her tight reign of composure.

“There are rumors that some of our own people are threatening civil war,” She continued after a moment. “If that’s true, there’s an entire galaxy out there who would wait in line to devour the scraps. We have to fight. This isn’t the moment to wilt into our feelings and hide away in each other’s arms, wishing for a happy ending. It’s unlikely that we’ll get one.”

Vivid green eyes held him strong, but there was something vulnerable and raw hidden in their depths.

“That’s why I’m afraid.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad felt the shift the moment it happened. Artemis was ready to become defensive again, however, it was different enough that Kad was not alarmed. The two had been as intimate with each other as any two people could be, and that had changed even how Artemis withdrew to the caution she knew so well. There was no wall, simply a cautious vulnerability which could still threaten to undo everything the past months had built. Yet, Kad hoped.

This time Kad just listened. Everything in him wanted to scream YES when Artemis asked if he could keep his lofty promises. Her words brought with them a simple truth that the elation of their coupling could blind them from. Neither of them could pretend to be young and carefree lovers with the universe at their command. They had loved, lost, and found themselves broken only to have life force them into picking up the shattered pieces of their lives and move on.

Kad let Artemis move away, he let her move close again. The woman could do as she pleased because instead of building a wall between them Artemis was only exposing herself further. Her fears were Kad’s fears. They had the same questions. The more Artemis spoke the more convinced Kad became they were doing the right thing, and he was asking the right thing of her.

When she finished, when her vivid gaze drew him in once more, Kad paused. A hand moved to her cheek, brushing a thumb gently as if it were fragile porcelain.

”I do not make promises with the intention of breaking them,” Kad said as he let his hand fall back to his side.

He pivoted on the bed so he could face Artemis head on. No other moment, no other conversation, seemed more important than this one. The words which came out of Kad's mouth would carry a weight with them powerful enough to determine the outcome of what was happening between them.

Kad swallowed hard. The pause would tell Artemis one thing, Kad, someone who was not good with words, was determined to be intentional and careful about what he said next. His hope was this would inspire grace if they did not come out as well as his thoughts could convey.

”You are right. We are not children anymore, nor will I pretend that we can see life through the ignorant bliss of young love. We both were promised a lifetime only to have it taken from us. I cannot pretend that a lifetime is a promise I can keep.”

Kad paused, licking his lips and pulling his lower lip into his mouth momentarily.

“Balon promised you a lifetime, and he gave you his. I can only make you the same promise. I can promise you my lifetime however long or short it is. The future is uncertain, and I refuse to pretend that I can know it.”

Moving closer to Artemis, Kad took her hand again. His eyes moved briefly to the window as the rain still beat drops of water against the glass. He loved the rain because it had a way of cleaning the air and bringing a freshness to everything it touched.

“Here is what I do know. Artemis Lux did not kill the Zakkeg alone, Kad Tor did not save the boy by himself. You did not survive the crash anymore than I did. Everything we have accomplished in the past several months, we have accomplished together. I am better because of you, and you are better because of me. We are better together than we are alone.”

Kad wrapped his hand around the back of Artemis’ head. His fingers ran through her dark curls a couple of times before her drew her forehead to his. He let it rest there. Kad made no move to kiss her. He simply held her in the one embrace they were most familiar with.

“I’m afraid too, but I'd rather have you for as long as I can than never at all.”

His blue eyes latched onto her emerald gaze. They were filled with hope.

“I know you too well, Ar’ika, to think you brought me into your bed and made love to me only to cast me aside now. If we are going to be afraid, then let's be afraid together.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

“Stop.” Artemis shifted uncomfortably as Kad collected her into his arms. “I said stop,” She repeated hoarsely, head of dusky curls pulling back and away from his demonstrative hands. Her eyes narrowed to study him with feline displeasure, but as the ocean of his gaze swallowed her whole, the Lioness made no further effort to move and grew still. “Don’t look at me like that,” She murmured, but there was no force behind the command. Slowly, and with great reluctance, her stern expression melted. In its place crept the hint of a muted, begrudging smile. “It makes me feel like agreeing to anything.”
All at once, like a rare glint of sunlight, the wry dimple emerged in her cheek, and a thin breath of amusement broke through the taut purse of her mouth. It was the involuntary reaction that plagued Artemis when she felt disinclined toward acknowledging her affection for the man, but just as soon found herself powerless to it. It was a frustrating exercise. Artemis looked down and shook her head ruefully. When she lifted her tapered gaze, something in the way she looked at Kad had changed.
“You’re an appallingly persistent man,” She remarked quietly, a new and unfamiliar tenderness softening the edge of her words. Intelligent green eyes searched his face as she ventured forward and drew herself back into him, caressing an errant hand over the back of his golden hair and down his neck, guiding him closer. “You’re not giving up, are you?” The question came as a warm whisper against his lips. Without waiting for a reply, Artemis brushed the gamine slope of her nose against his and gifted Kad with a slow, intentional kiss. It was a rare moment of unguarded softness that the Lioness had reserved for only one man before him. Now, he would know she was entrusting it with him.
Their kiss invariably deepened, and just as it neared the exultant verge of unraveling into a repeat of their prior extracurriculars, Artemis cut the moment short. Breathless, she coaxed Kad’s lips away from hers and fixed him with a strong-minded look with which he would be well-acquainted. She had come to learn the effect her emerald eyes had on him, and in this moment she took unabashed advantage of it.
“I’ll surrender on one condition,” She offered, looking keenly up at him through her lashes. “You play by my rules.”
They’d been playing by her rules all along, but Artemis handily elected to ignore that fact.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the others placing bets on how long it would take for this to happen,” She continued, gesturing dryly toward the rumpled articles of clothing that lay helpless and abandoned on the floor. Her shrewd attention flickered back to Kad as she arched a meaningful brow. “I’m not ready for them to know.”
Before Kad could open his mouth, Artemis lifted a hand to subdue any protestations that might have tumbled out. “We’ll never hear the end of it,” She averred, her voice adopting a militant firmness that dared him to argue. “– especially from your sister. Don’t think I don’t know that [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] has been playing matchmaker for us for nearly a year now. I’d prefer to keep my pride intact while I warm up to the idea myself.”
Artemis had more to say, but she stopped short. For what was perhaps the first time in their tumultuous courtship, she feared how her brusque words might affect Kad. The man had suffered the worst of her scorn, her temper, and her hardness – yet he had chosen her in spite of it all. Suddenly, Artemis found herself frightened by the possibility of the alternative. Until now, only the prospect of losing Kad to death, the same way she had lost Balon, was enough to strike dread in her heart. But the prospect of driving Kad away herself…
After all this time, after how far they’d come, and with war imminent, Artemis now understood how much she truly stood to lose. Kad was right.
They needed each other.
Her features softened with emotion.
“This is going to take time, ner kar'taylir darasuum,” Artemis implored gently, pressing her palm back up to his cheek. “And it’s not going to be easy.” Her thumb moved to brush tenderly along his jawline. With that one small motion, the deep-rooted love she held for him poured out. Artemis had made her choice. “Kiss me again before I change my mind.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Artemis was right, Kad was not going to give up. ”I am as persistent in having you as you are at keeping me at arms length,” Kad said as he looked past her shoulder to the heap of clothes spread across the floor. He looked into the green eyes of the raven haired woman. He smiled at her admission that his look could make her agree to anything. Kad tucked that bit of information away for when it would matter the most. His smirk gave away that he had not missed the comment.

There was more to say, but Artemis did not let him speak. He wanted to answer with a resounding NO when she suggested that her rules would be the only way she would agree. This was different. If they were to be together it would be their rules, not hers. His eyes said what they needed to regardless. Artemis knew by now he would play along so far as she did not trample over his right to have a say. Kad had been patient with her, but tonight his patience had given way to a more assertive warrior. The past year had taught him how to handle the Lioness with care.

”I know,” Kad admitted with his head against hers.

He smiled at her command, but shook his head.

”I will do more than simply kiss you,” Kad said as he rolled Artemis onto her back. ”If I must crave you from afar when eyes are watching then I shall love you all the more when they are not.”

His lips pressed to hers with a deliberate motion. She had stopped their kiss before it could crescendo into a repeat of what had them in her bed now. That would not be the case this time as words would never be sufficient to express the depth of what the two felt for the other. It was not the same love they could ever claim for their precious partners, but it was strong all the same.
___________________________________________________

The morning sun’s light danced across Kad’s face. He batted away at it as if were an annoying gnat, but it did not relent. Kad rolled onto his side as his eyes opened to gaze at the woman he held in his arms. He moved to press a kiss on her forehead when they were interrupted by a loud banging at her door.

”KAD! KAD! Are you in there!? ARTEMIS!!?”

The warrior bolted up. He knew Artemis would wake with such a noise. Knowing Artemis didn’t want anyone knowing about them yet he scooped his clothes off the floor and hid on the side of the door which would keep him out of sight.

”Kad a new Mand’alor has claimed the title and Ra Vizsla is back calling for all out war. It’s Mia, the one who nuked Mandalore. He wants to make her pay. We’ve been called to fight.”

Kad remained quiet. He looked to Artemis and he could see the worry in her eyes. It was the same he had in his. Had they decided to give themselves to each other only to lose each other? When the noise from the outside was gone, Kad walked to the bed and without a single word kissed the Lioness of Dxun. His finger traced her jawline as the kiss broke and he pulled away.

”I must see to our people. Wait ten minutes then meet me in the courtyard. We must assemble the warriors and answer Mand’alor’s call.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Warmth cushioned Artemis from all sides. Sunlight, the hazy sort that only follows a storm, filtered in through the window and prodded gently at her closed eyelids. It didn’t accost her the way it accosted Kad; his large shadow shielded her from it. The sleeping Lioness was burrowed soundly into her lover’s side. The only part of her that was visible at all was the spill of black ringlets, disheveled and wild, that curled around her bare shoulders. Her breathing held the sound of hard-earned contentment and feathered steadily past her lips, which curved into the slant of a smile at the sensation of a familiar kiss gracing her brow.
What she felt certain was a dream ended in an instant.
“KAD! KAD! Are you in there? ARTEMIS!”
Rap rap rap rap rap! The metallic door veritably rattled.
Artemis, a hard sleeper, had only begun to stir by the time Kad was bounding across the room. “Kad?” She called, her voice still dreamy and muted. “Who’s there?” The plush white coverlet fell away as she pushed herself up to seated, starlight and slumber still clearing from her eyes. When the room shifted into focus, Artemis might have raised an eyebrow at the sight of the hulking goran shrinking primly into the corner – panicked, naked, and clutching his rumpled clothes. She opened her mouth to make what would have likely been a wry comment to that effect, but just as soon stopped.
The voice outside was shouting again, and this time, Artemis was sufficiently awake to register the words:
War.
Their fears had become their reality overnight.
Artemis promptly sobered and joined in Kad’s silence. The way that she looked at him, and he at her, spoke more than anything either the man or woman could say. The moment for sentiment had come and gone, and in its place came the moment where the rubber met the road.
What happens when our enemies arrive and we’re too tangled up in each other to notice them? What happens when you let your guard fall for one precious moment and you end up dead?
Artemis, remembering her own bitter questions from their heated argument the night before, swallowed the rise of emotion that welled in her throat. There was no room for softness now, no place for weakness or distractions. She was a woman of her word as much as Kad was a man of his:
They would be warriors before they were lovers.
They would belong to Mandalore before they belonged to each other.
Artemis understood what had to be done. When Kad crossed the room to kiss her, she had already risen from bed, seized her kute and the disassembled pieces of her beskar’gam, and met him half-way. He urged her to leave with him, but she shook her head.
“No,” She murmured into the narrow space between their lips. “Dxun is our home now. I can’t abandon our people . . . the children . . . someone has to stay behind to protect them, or move them to safety if Dxun falls.” Emerald eyes held him strong even as he broke their embrace and pulled away. Artemis inhaled deeply, savoring the remaining trace of his scent for what she prayed wasn’t the last time. “I can’t go with you.”
Stoic features masked the visceral pain those words brought, but Kad would know.
“That window opens out into the back alley. Turn left at the end of it, follow the dirt path, and it’ll lead you straight into the courtyard.” Artemis pointed with the command of a small general. “Go now — hurry! – and I swear to Manda, if you come close to getting yourself killed, I’ll finish the job myself.”
I love you.
“Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur,” The Lioness murmured as she watched him go, standing where he left her with her back as straight as an arrow, her face as hard as stone. “Today is a good day for someone else to die.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​