Private With Blood on Your Hands

[Mia Monroe]

Mia fought to get the boxing glove off her left hand with her teeth as she walked, pressure on her chest almost unbearable. She dropped the use of crucitorn in the hope the pain in her other hand might cut through it, she'd rather feel than pain of shattered bones than what was clawing at her chest, threatening to rip her apart. How could she have not known? How could she have not seen it?

She drew off looks from passers by, her face bloodied, cradling her right hand against her chest. She finally shook free the glove from her left hand, dropping it on the floor as she reached the ship, palming the landing ramp controls. She didn't bother to close it behind her, she knew he'd follow, he never could let things go. She found a bottle of whiskey, two cups and tossed them onto the table of the small galley.

Flopping onto one of the benches she looked down at her hand. blood was seeping through the shock glove. "Feth, Ijaat," she whispered and began the painful process of slowly removing the glove.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He'd paused only to put on his armor, speed born of practice. And had immediately sought out Mia, wrenching his jaw back into place and socket with a grunt as he walked up the landing ramp. He noted the cups and bottle, but his focus remained on her. Solely her. He took in the pain, and while there was concern, there was no pity. She'd deserved it, just as he had deserved the jaw and others. Now they were square, and the past was truly the past.

"N'eparavu takisit... Now here, let me help."

He knelt in front of her on the bench, helmet set to the side as he did so, scruffed face laced with concern as his hands moved to grasp the broken hand, but didn't yet make contact.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

"Wer'cuy."

She grunted in response, finally pulling the glove free. "I'm fine."

Mia had always been stupidly independent, but this was something else, Ijaat knew that she could use crucitorn, she'd done it long before she'd died to manage the devaronian blood poison that had flowed through her veins, a parting gift from Nemene Talith. So the fact that she was deliberately choosing to feel every ounce of this pain should have been enough of a sign that she was using it to block out other pain.

She was fighting to keep her breathing even. "Sit, drink." She got up, rummaging for a med kit, blood dripping slowly onto the floor.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Just as stubborn, Ijaat grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down. There was force behind the grip and movement, but tenderness in his eyes as he took the medkit she had almost found and opened it. The first thing he did was a mild sedative and pain reliever that was up and into the side of her neck quicker than the smith's usual lumbering pace. To someone like her, it would just take the edge off. Coming from a harsh tutor like him, a believer in experience and pain being excellent teachers in most situations, the gesture was almost tender. Grabbing her arm at the elbow, he yanked her in close, pressing his back to her front as he held her arm under his shoulder, pinned her to the wall and growled at her stubborness.

"Stay put, hellcat. Or I might just break the other one. Let me help, then we both drink."

With a wrench and no warning, he set the major break without waiting for her to voice agreement. The medicine would keep it from being explicit agony, but only just. His voice mirrored the odd look in his eyes towards her. Next came the burn she couldn't see as he used a bacta charge from the kit to speed the healing and settle the bones. Not enough for instant growth, that would direct direct injection and a tank... But enough she'd have some mobility and less pain.

Softly his fingers traced jagged lines of carpal bones, pressing and massaging them back into place. He might not know Crucitorn, but his skill at Jukre Tuning was on display as he soothed and calmed her, body and mind, by settling her emotive state with the tuning.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia tried to protest the sedative, but his pinning silenced her. A grunt of pain escaping her, swiftly followed by a growl as he started with the bacta. "Ijaat..." she started to wiggle but he held her firm pressing back against her and she sagged and gave up fighting. Relaxing into the Jukre calming, she could feel it wrapping around her, like a warm blanket and her forehead came to rest on his shoulder.

Slowly, the pressure in her chest eased, their breathing fell into sync. Mia lifted her head, her face wet with quiet tears. "Enough," she said softly, gently pushing his off her. She wasn't sure how she felt about the way he could calm her, but she was grateful, she wasn't sure what would happen if she truly lost control. She wiped her face with her unbroken hand, reaching for the bottle and pouring them both a drink.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

The tuning faded slowly, and he sucked in a breath. He wasn't great at it, particularly with those he didn't know. But Mia he knew, and knew as well as anyone really. Singular people like that, it made it easy. With ease, he grabbed his drink and took a swallow, turning to face the other. Something unreadable was across his face, an expression not quite pity and not quite resignation but something in between. With a forced but still honest grin, he spoke softly.

"Surprised you didn't knife my kidney for touching you... You're getting soft in your old age, you know?"

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia gave a small chuckle in response. "Well. I'm not exactly drowning in applications for friendship, so it'd be pretty stupid to kill the only one on my side." There was a sadness in her eyes, but she was doing her best to push it aside. "Besides which, you broke it, you fix it."

She collected her own cup and drank deep, she was going to need the alcohol to get through the night, that much she was sure of. "So, Ra was a perfectly placed pawn for me to throw myself at. Started the shattering of clans and families. And then our people were hunted....purged. You said as much on the Pomojema, but I don't think it registered till now."

She chewed on the thought for a moment. Darth Carnifex had a lot to answer for. "What happened to Manda'yaim, Ijaat?"

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Grief and pain wracked him, for a moment. He spoke, but his words sounded hollow. Dead and without true emotion behind them.

"It was razed, several times. Turned into a barren glassed rock. Most of our people have abandoned it. We're scattered to the winds and fractured, leaderless. Last I knew the greatest concentration of us is focused in a group called the Enclave, but their leader has died as well. I've not been back since..."

Looking into her eyes, he reached up and almost without thought wiped the tears from her face. It felt foreign and uncomfortable to see her weep, even if for good reason. She deserved better.

"But we still stand, as does home. As do I. As do you. I am glad you are here again."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

"You can't kill Mandalorians. Every time they try, we come back stronger." she reached up to his hand, her touch gentle. Something in her chest shifted, their eyes locked. Mia blinked, snapping herself away from it, from the burning in her chest and away from his touch.

"I,um." she faltered so unlike herself, clearing her throat. "I want to say I'm glad too, but I'm not there. Not yet." She pushed herself up from the table, almost reluctantly, but there were other things she needed to lay to rest before she could truly take a hold of what this life had to offer.

She collected a datapad from a side, Ijaat would recognise it as the one Ashin had given her. She tossed it lightly to the table where it skidded to rest in front of him. She stayed where she was, keeping the distance between them. "I was a terrible wife, and a worse mother so I've not been able to bring myself to read it."

She left the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He knew. Without asking, without reading, he knew the question. And the answer. He made no move to grab the object, instead watching her withdraw, her mind a tangled feeling mess of chaos and regrets. With a clearing of his throat, he made eye contact, and the smile he wore was sad, and reluctance coated his words as he spoke. He had already searched for the answer to her question, as he had his own. Runi lived, doing well enough by all accounts. Darius led a remnant of the House Mereel on Gardius, doing honor to the name.

"Rel spent his days making weapons against the Sith and Forcer in general as you know. Your death seems to have drive that urge to new heights, and threw him into hiding... Eventually vanished from radar entirely, but all sources point to him dying in his workshop of old age. Clan Rook hunted your daughter down and slew her in cold blood. The one who gave the orders, and the one who did the slaying, are already long since gone. Most of our old associates and enemies are. Rumor has Gilamar Skirata still kicking somewhere. Draco has left the fold, and lives on Alderaan. The Rekalis have turned to self-induced exile in the Hard Roil. Larraq and all the others, gone. We are few and far between, us old guard."

He reached out then, one hand raising his cup and draining the liquor in one go after hefting it in toast, the other lighting softly on his temple, indicating a toast to memory as he walked to be next to her, but not exactly at her side.

"But it gives us a blank slate to start anew. No gods, no masters, no allegiances. Just the open black and our own purpose, if that's what you should choose."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

It didn't cut through her like she thought it would. Perhaps because in her heart she'd already known the answers that lie within. Mia may not have raised Cory, but she was still hers and neither her nor Rel would have turned tail and run. So of course they were dead.

She had a choice before her, one that was more than just a blank slate. Darth Carnifex was untouchable, for now. That was a rock she couldn't afford to look under, not without allies and support. Mia stood quiet, processing, eyes glazed over as she built walls, patching cracks and finding a focus.

Slowly her eyes settled back on him, and raised her cup. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

Down the hatch in one. She moved back to the table, no longer crying, slid into the seat next to Ijaat and refilled both their cups. "Blank slate or not, we do have a duty. Our people to better rallied under one banner, focused on one cause. We need to remind them of that."

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He nodded, echoing the toast. Well did he know that pain Mia felt, and well did he recall his own walls. He gave her that moment, and then sighed, looking down at the table. The implication hung heavy, at least to him. United under one banner. One purpose. It would be her, of course. She knew the politics and the life better than he, and for that he was glad. Shaking his head, he met her eyes.

"I worry you will lose yourself for a people who would not have you bear that mantle you mention. But I will follow you, nonetheless. I will always have your back, until my last breath. That you can count on."

He drank again, without toast or preamble, thinking back over the past, still looking at her and seeing ghosts, hearing echoes of memory while memorizing the face of perhaps the last true friend he had in the Galaxy. The last one to know him, and not his deeds.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"For a smart man, Ijaat. You can be incredibly stupid."

She leant on the table. "I wasn't talking about me. We don't need a Liberator. We need a builder, a maker. A blacksmith. Someone who can lead us forward towards a new Manda'yaim. Someone who's already made it his mission to rebuild it, with whatever help he can get." She sat back, taking a sip of her drink.

"And if that wasn't clear enough, I'm talking about you, utreekov." she smirked.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

That got his attention, and his reply was to choke on the liquor and cough and sputter sentence fragments, eyeing her incredulously and shaking his head and waving his hands in a warding gesture of denial as if waving away a snake or other intruder.

"What? Are you drunk? Me? As you said, I'm a blacksmith. The last time I tried leadership I wound up naked in a Council meeting after shattering the Mask of the Ultimate. I'm hardly such material... Your affection is clouding your judgment, lass."

The last bit slipped out and he coughed again, busying himself with pouring more to drink, the words hanging in the growing silence. Both had said their piece, in their own way. If she hadn't felt that way, he'd be dead. He was sure of it. And if he hadn't, he damn sure wouldn't take the insults she casually lobbed his way laying down. But he had planned be more delicate in the delivery of him suspecting or knowing such.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia choked into her own cup at the end of his sentence, her cheeks flushed pink. She cleared her throat, there was no point denying anything, but that didn't mean she had been ready for it to be out in the open.

"Affections aside," she said carefully, "your reluctance is exactly what makes you perfect for this. You more than anyone can give them something to look to that isn't dashing themselves against the might of the galactic alliance. Unite under the banner of House Mereel. People will flock to you because you're a blackmsith, not an ego driven warrior seeking to make a name for themselves."

She let those words sink in, gave him a moment to mull it over as she she finished her cup, setting it on the table, sliding it to the bottle near his hand, a quite ask for a fresh pour. "And you won't be alone, I'll be at your side, if you'll have me."

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He poured for her, and then in the same quiet way she did the asking with, he took her hand in his, and held it, looking at it in his for a moment, her words crashing into him and through the small buzz he'd been nursing. With a rueful smile, he gave her hand a squeeze and summoned words to respond.

"I already have a name, better or worse. That may hinder or aid us, honestly. But you're right, someone needs to lead the people. We're devolving and becoming without purpose or point. It's a sad thing to see."

A slow breath hissed out from him, and he spoke once more.

"I won't pretend I want it, but I'll do it. We restore the planet first, though. That way, no matter my claim, Manda'yaim is whole again."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

"We make a start on rebuilding," she countered "We're good, and we have people we can reach out to with resources, but if we rely too much on outside help, there could be repurcussions. Outsiders seeking to make a claim to something in return for their help. We need them, to finish it, to truly rebuild it they need to unite."

She returned the gentle squeeze. "There will no doubt be those of our people who have eyes on our home, if not clinging to what's left of it, let them see, and spread the word." Her bacta bandaged hand reached for the cup he'd poured, forcing her to lean closer. "Oya Manda." She said softly, lifting the cup to him.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Sighing, he clinked his cup to hers and took a long swallow, finally sitting it down and eyeing her thoughtfully. There was much and more in that hawk-like gaze, and many thoughts flickered in his mind as he took in the scope of what she proposed, and he nodded.

"We pay them in coin and profits. And what they mistake for weakness will be their undoing in the end, as it ever is."

He then took a moment and raised their joined hands, looking at her with a tinge of mirth in his serious gaze.

"I suppose there is much and more to talk about, eh cyar'ika?"

This time the word, the nickname if one took it so playfully, was said with genuine warmth and sincerity. He might not be the most romantic partner, but he did feel things, despite the oft made perception of him not. Rather strongly, in this case.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia blew a sigh out of her nose, torn between retreat and staying where it was comfortable. She averted her gaze from his her hand twitching slightly in his grasp, drinking deep. A deep breath followed as he braced herself before forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"Do you know where I was, when you pulled me back? I was fighting in the Blood Wastes. That's where I've been for the last forty years. Moving from one fight to the next. Sometimes it was myself, my own demons, sometimes it was kin, sometimes it was people I didn't even know, but who knew or had suffered as a result of me and my actions."

"I still believe I should be there, because no amount of punishment will ever be enough," she held up her hand to stop any protests "but, I can't make amends in there, like I can out here. You gave me that chance, and I will seize it, with both hands. Taken me a minute to get there but this will be the only time you will ever here me say, you were right. So remember it."

She gave a sad smile. "I know you want to talk about all the things I'm not comfortable talking about, emotions, feelings...affections. But I need two things from you, first."

She wriggled her fingers free of his, disappearing down the corridor and returning with something wrapped in cloth. The energy about it was dark on nature, she set it gently on the table and unwrapped a prismatic crystal.

"This is a soul snare, one of the last few remaining in the galaxy, I beleive. I have four of them, and I need you to help me set them into daggers. Two, one for you, and one for Ashin Cardé Varanin ."

The next part, she knew was not going to go down well. She didn't want to say it, she didn't want to ruin the comfort they'd reached.

"I am not stable. By any means. Anger, pain...greif, they blur lines. So far we've gotten off lightly, but I'm not convinced thats it. So, this...you and Ashin, who I'll speak to separately, I need you to be sure that as the ones who brought me back, that if you cannot bring me down should the worst happen, if you cannot leash me...." she trailed off.

"I need you to strike true. More than that, i need you to make sure that I can never come back. This is my last chance. My sanity will not survive another."

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He reached to take the snare, and turned it over in his hands, thinking. There was grief in the gaze, but it was resigned as well. As if he knew this were likely coming. Slowly, he turned his eyes to hers. A slow nod, as if the movement of every muscle was done under protest.

"I'll do it, out of love for your peace after this. But I demand that you truly live this time around. No going through the motions. No wallowing in the past. Take my hand and step with me into the 'verse and don't look back. Because we've got shit to do according to you, and a life to live according to me. As long as you live it, I'll end it should the time come calling."

Mia Monroe