Wounds From a Friend can be Trusted...

[Kad Tor]

Sweat beaded at Kad’s brow with each fall of his hammer. The goran had spent the better part of a week and a half working on a set of beskar’gam which he planned on painting gold with red accents. It was an apology of sorts, though in truth Kad had no idea on where to begin with such a task. This wasn't an apology for something wrong, but rather for a mortal wound and breach of trust. His heart broke every time he thought about what had happened, what he had done and said while drunk. Those things should not have happened and had it not been for the fact he relied on the drink for his pain and grief they would not have.

The words which had come as a stern rebuke rang loud in his ears. Even the clang his hammer made against the metal ore could not drown out the piercing and shrill sound. He was a broken man, but was it beyond repair, even as the Lioness had suggested? A soiled hand wiped the sweat from his brow as the hammer was set aside. Blue eyes examined his work hoping his guesses at her size were correct. Kad had fashioned enough pieces in his life to be a pretty good judge of such things.

Water quenched his parched tongue as his mind wandered to the hunt. It had been perfect. The moment they had shared after still brought a smile to Kad’s face. His eyes closed as he could almost smell the forest around him again, feel her forehead against his, the water dripping against his fingers as it held her wet locks. He could smell her scent. They had not just hunted together, but forged a deep bond because of their loss. In an evening they had come to know each other in an almost intimate manner only for Kad to ruin it by getting drunk and insisting they be physically intimate, that they use each other to forget.

Kad didn't want to forget.

The paint needed a few hours to dry, and the time had been spent cleaning and bathing. He had been avoiding Artemis for the time being. He'd been married long enough to know that such injuries required space. Kad wasn't going to prove himself a complete fool, nor was he going to ignore or avoid what he had to do. It was typical for a man to bring a peace offering. This was something Kad had wanted to do regardless, but now it was something he had to do.

A rustic bag with a single strap held the dry armor as he slung it over his shoulder. It was no easy feat as the ore remained heavy. Walking about the outpost, Kad found Artemis among the sparring pits with a group of children. He watched for a few moments, smiling as it seemed Artemis enjoyed being with the young. It was their duty as Mando’ade to invest in the next generation, and while Kad found being around the young painful, he still did what was expected of him.

When a natural lull seemed to present itself, the green armor clad warrior approached the group. The bag was dropped from his shoulder to rest on the ground as his blue eyes searched for any sign in the emerald gaze of the Lioness that she would allow him to approach. He gulped as all eyes were on him.

“I’m sorry… can we talk?”

One of the children looked at Kad then back to Artemis. Her face was littered with freckles and her head covered with a nest of curly red hair. A wry grin was set on her face as she pointed to Kad.

“Artemis is he your cyar’ika?!?”

A soft chuckle escaped her mouth and the rest of the group started to laugh as some of the young boys made gagging noises.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

D X U N​

S P A R R I N G P I T S​

“First, you fight with your head.” Artemis tapped a little boy’s forehead with her index finger from where she knelt beside him in the sand of the sparring pit, the long folds of her tunic pooled around her limber form. The boy was the youngest of the gaggle of children that surrounded them in the pit, each waiting their turn to practice their budding combat skills—a rite of passage for every Mandalorian child as soon as they could walk.

This little boy could not have been older than two or three and was still young enough to find everything Artemis did endlessly amusing. His bubbling laughter made her smile. “Then…” She continued, furrowing her brows in mock seriousness, before bending at the waist to playfully scoop the toddling boy into her arms. He howled in childish delight as she spun him around. “…then, my brave warrior, you fight with your heart.”

The child beamed up at the woman from where he was perched on the curve of her hip, supported by the fold of her arms, in the crook of her elbow. “When I get bigger, I wanna be like him,” He babbled, bouncing and flailing eagerly in her arms. Artemis raised an eyebrow. “Like who?” She asked. “Him,” The boy insisted, pointing a baby-like finger over Artemis’ shoulder. She turned, holding the child close on her hip as she followed the directive.

Artemis’ heart faltered.

There stood Kad. Tall, imposing, clad in the same forest green armor from their last hunt together. There was a bag at his feet, and the way that he stood before her, as if in offering of himself, sent a brief flicker of emotion through her system. For a man so large, he looked vulnerable, scared. I’m sorry, he said, and his blue eyes meant it. Can we talk?

Something hardened in the depths of Artemis’ emerald gaze, but she held her smile firmly in place for the children’s benefit. Artemis had been a mother once; she knew that children observed more than adults realized. She did not want to explain to them what had happened between her and their mighty hero—she did not want to explain what he had done. It was difficult enough for her to understand on her own.

They had hunted together nearly a fortnight ago, but that evening had transcended the hunt. It had been a night of bonding, two warriors joining as one to achieve one of the greatest honors in Mandalorian culture—the slaying of a Zakkeg. It had been a night of slow healing, from the loss of his family and the loss of hers. It had been a night of something else which Artemis could not pinpoint, but no matter how hard she tried (and she had tried), she could not shake the memory of the mirshmure'cya they had shared—the command of his fingers tangled roughly in her hair, the traditional meeting of his forehead against hers. It was a sign of intimacy and respect among their people.

The night had been perfect—until Kad’s vices made an appearance. Their celebration at the bar had quickly transformed into Kad slipping into a drunken stupor and propositioning her—her, of all women. Artemis knew Kad well enough to understand that these were his coping mechanisms—distractions from the pain of his past—but that did not lessen her outrage. The drink and the bed would be his undoing.

“Artemis, is he your cyar’ika?” squealed one of the little girls, breaking the woman’s momentary reverie. If Artemis had been a female of a lesser constitution, she might have blushed at the indelicate question. As it were, she merely straightened her back and lifted her chin, snapping back to attention and resuming business.

“That’s enough for today, children,” Artemis murmured briskly. Dark curls tumbled long down her shoulder as she lowered the little boy from her arms. She placed a quick kiss on top of his buzzed head and scooted him along to rejoin the others. “Off with you.” The children groaned and protested, but knew better than to disobey. They dispersed like a pack of wolves—as wild and Mandalorian as ever. Artemis watched them go with a look of intermingled pride and longing. They almost filled a place in her mother’s heart that had been empty for quite some time. Almost.

Artemis flashed her green eyes back to Kad. She brushed the sand from the flowing skirts of her tunic as she stepped out of the pit, ethereal fabrics resettling around her womanly shape. Never once did the brilliance of her gaze falter from his face. She was stoic, prideful—more of a Lioness now than she had ever been.

“If you come here to renew your offer for my company in your bed, I assure you we have nothing more to talk about,” She murmured dangerously, drawing herself up beneath his shadow, as if in challenge. “If you come here to apologize . . . very well. I am listening.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

There was something which seemed natural about being around children for Artemis. It was as though it was even more so her niche than hunting. Had Kad not seen how capable of a huntress she truly was, he would be inclined to think the work she was doing in the sparring pits was where she belonged. Of course Kad knew better than to put her into a box like that. Like all Mando’ade Artemis was both an instructor and a warrior. Her true talent lay in the art of diplomacy which was something their people needed now more than ever.

As the children scampered off the boy who had pointed Kad out ran up to him and hugged his leg, then ran off. The large warrior froze for a moment at the sight of such a small toddler, wondering if his own sons would have been that energetic. He took in a deep breath.

His gaze had never left Artemis. She commanded his respect, and cautioned him to proceed with care lest he arouse the violent temper of the wild Lioness which lay hidden behind her emerald eyes. At the mention of what he had done his eyes moved to the ground refusing to challenge her. For his own part in the matter he knew his mistake and wrongdoing. Kad also knew his own heart in the matter. While he was still confused about why the moment which they had shared after slaying the Zakkeg felt so natural, and so right, he knew the bond they had forged that night was in danger of breaking because of his drunken idiocy.

The look she held in her eyes had been slowly killing him. It was nothing but a reminder of the things he had said, and the flash of anger which had been his reward. When his eyes finally met hers again his voice was soft, but determined.

“I have no excuses to offer. You have only ever tried to help redirect the way I deal with my pain. The hunt… it was glorious, the moment after… There is an undeniable bond that was made. I violated it, you, you…”

Kad’s blue eyes looked away from her. Had he been a stronger man his composure would have remained, but the pain of what he had done was still raw.

“You have come to mean more to me than you could possible know,” he stated as he fought back the tears which threatened to come.

Kad’s strong arm lifted the bag of armor which would serve several purposes it would seem. First and foremost, it was a gift which came from his heart. It was a small token of the value their relationship was to him, a genuine offer. Second the gift had his clan’s crest, a beskad and shield, etched on one of the shoulder plates. Kad wanted Artemis to know she would always find family among he and Briika. Third, it served as part of his apology, and finally, and most practically, it would replace the armor which had been dented by the Zakkeg.

The bag was presented to her and laid at her feet. While this should have happened in a more private setting, Kad was not about to make any suggestion which would insinuate he was trying to get her alone. If they moved on from here the choice would belong to Artemis.

“It has taken the better part of ten days to make this, and I had to guess when it came to certain pieces. I had always intended to make this for you, and I wish it was being offered under better circumstances. However, what I can never express with words, I can with my hands.”

With that, Kad dropped to his knee and untied the cord which had kept the canvas bag closed to reveal the new armor plates within.

“I have stayed sober since… though I cannot say I have rid myself of the bottle completely. I cannot do this alone, Ar’ika. The Hammer of Enceri needs the Lioness of Dxun.”

​

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Artemis stood as still as stone, slender arms folded neatly across her chest and the curve of her chin lifted like an expectant queen. She was not an unreasonable woman, but she was prideful. Her trust had to be hard-earned. Petty trivialities, she could brush aside with diplomatic tact and a smile. Serious affronts to her dignity, however, were another matter entirely. Artemis commanded respect at every turn and, admittedly, often held other people to a higher standard than what many would deem fair.

But Kad . . . sweet Kad, her refuge in whom she had taken so much comfort during their shared moments of grief, was not other people. He was Kad. He was better than his inglorious behavior on the night of their hunt. Until that hapless moment—until he had taken hold of her arm and drunkenly insisted that she warm his bed—Artemis had believed that he held her in a higher regard, too. Perhaps that was what ignited her temper the most. It was fueled by more than just anger. It was fueled by hurt.

As Kad approached her now, and their eyes finally met, Artemis would greet him with a tapered emerald gaze that bore as much warmth as an angry, aloof cat. However, beneath her sharp look that seemed to growl Impress me—I dare you, a softer look murmured, Please. I don’t like being angry with you.

Kad accepted her unspoken challenge and began to speak.

With his every word, the interlocking gears of her heart and mind had begun to furiously turn and click and change. Anger . . . melted down to skepticism . . . melted down to tolerance . . . melted all the way down to some indeterminably overpowering sensation that Artemis did not know how to name, but that threatened to burst forth her chest as she watched Kad swallow back his own emotion. Artemis suddenly felt angrier and more bewildered than before. She wanted to rebuke him and embrace him all at once. It was a singularly vexatious feeling, but Artemis would not have time process it. Kad had dropped to one knee and revealed the contents of his bag. The whole world seemed to stop.

Ten days he had labored for her, to build the most finely crafted set of armor she had ever seen. Ar’ika, he called her, intertwining their people’s term of endearment with her name. Although Artemis stood as proud and strong as ever, the change of emotion that swept across her features was clear.

“Kad . . . “ Artemis murmured as she gazed down at him, brows furrowing and full lips pressing together to contain the swell of emotion that had risen in her throat. Her voice, usually so commanding, had dropped to a near whisper. Something inside of her inexorably sturdy core felt as though it might break. “ . . . you shouldn’t have done this for me.” She firmly meant it, but there was a deeper part of her than she cared to admit that was unendingly stirred that he had.

The thin skirts of her tunic flowed around her legs as she ventured closer to examine the extraordinary gift, one long dark curl tumbling down her collarbone when she bent to touch the armor. As her fingertips skimmed lovingly across the surface of each smooth, golden plate, she could not help but sigh. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Artemis flickered her green eyes back up to Kad. They were still serious, but something about them had grown more tender. “It would be my honor to wear it . . . and my honor to help you. I would never abandon a vod’ika in need.”

It was here that Artemis paused. Something emboldened her to place one hand on either side of Kad’s face, aligning his gaze firmly with her own. Her words were stern, but her hands were soft. “You must do exactly as I say. You are stronger than the bottle. I know you are.” And don't you ever try propositioning me again, or else. She didn't say it, but he would see the warning linger in her eyes. After a moment, she released her hold and returned her attention to the armor. For the first time, a subdued smile ghosted across her lips. “I've never worn armor so intricate or lovely. You're very talented.” She knelt to retrieve the bag, then moved to lead their trek back to the barracks. The armor glinted splendidly in the sunlight. Quietly, her smile grew. “If I may, I'd like to try it on." This was her version of Apology accepted.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Emerald eyes spoke more than words ever could. The anger, hurt, and confusion were very apparent every time Kad's sapphire gaze met hers. It caused him to look away several times, because the truth was he was ashamed of how he had treated her. The ten days spent crafting the armor had afforded him some clarity. Kad cared for Artemis, deeply, and while his actions had been far from showing it, he was looking for the second chance he needed to prove what he genuinely thought of her.

Artemis had to know she was seen as more than some woman to be sought as a bed warmer, but Kad had not treated her that way. He knew he would be as equally hurt and confused had he been in her shoes, especially after the intimate moment spent after the hunt near the waterfall. His words did little to soften her stare, and Kad knew they were not good enough. He was a man of craft, action, and not of words. It was a plain speech, but one which could not convey the emotion he felt. His handiwork would have to speak for him, and as the suit of armor was revealed it seemed to have done just that.

"You are wrong," his words came at her initial reaction, "I should have done this for you, and had to."

Her words were soft, almost a whisper, though they rang loudly in his ears. She approved of the gift, and his ego while still wounded from her rebuke, felt mended by her compliment of his skill. He knew it was good work, but hearing it from her made him smile. Even if he would have wanted to hide it he couldn't have. As their eyes met again, Kad could see the stern thoughts soften. This had been what was needed to mend the damage and earn the right to ask for her trust and help again.

The warning was clear in her eyes, though her words, a dear friend, told him where he stood with her. They had indeed grown close because of the refuge they had found in each other, but he was not as sure about her assessment of him as she was. Perhaps he was stronger than the bottle, but he knew it wasn't the bottle which was his problem. His gaze had been arrested though. The touch of her hands to his face was strong enough to hold him, but soft enough to invite him to remain. There was something within him that stirred at the way she held him.

"It is not the bottle which defeats me. We both know this. Though I will do whatever you say." His response was not an excuse, but rather admitting the truth. The bottle was simply a vice which came from the pain he held on to. However her words were true. Kad was stronger than his loss, and stronger than the urge to drink.

Kad stood as Artemis moved to lead them to where she could try on the armor. A smirk drew across his face when she asked to try it on. Kad nodded. "you will need your kute as I am not a seamstress, but my hope is the armor will fit you as it should." Kad had a happier stride as they walked toward the barracks where both had separate quarters. The last time they made this walk, Kad had been drunk, but he was determined to never be so again.

[member="Artemis Lux"]

 

[Artemis Lux]

I will do whatever you say. The words reverberated in Artemis’ mind as she strode toward the barracks, the bag of armor draped over one shoulder, and Kad towering at her side. It was a profound statement that imparted not only a great weight of responsibility to Artemis, but also a great deal of trust from Kad. Deep in her core, Artemis felt a twinge of anxiety, even fear. She was a habitually self-assured woman—neither bloodshed on the battlefield nor bloodthirsty politics gave her much pause—but the prospect of failing Kad was something she found deeply unsettling. There was no alternative, she decided. She simply would not fail him.

“I have confidence in your goran’s eye.”

Artemis smiled to Kad as they reached the barracks and paused outside the door of her personal quarters. Her green eyes were expressive as ever, glimmering up toward him with that inexplicable blend of sharpness and warmth that was her trademark. There was something else there, however—something that seemed to say I remember the last time we were alone in a room together. She raised an eyebrow, subdued humor pulling at the dimple in her cheek.

“Wait here, and I’ll allow you to give your professional assessment.”

With that, Artemis turned and pressed her hand against the keypad. The door rushed open in a great metallic whoosh. She disappeared inside her room, armor in tow.

The finely-wrought beskar’gam gleamed brilliantly as Artemis unfurled its clinking metal plates across her bed. She stepped back and slowly ran her gaze over every inch of its golden splendor, reaching out a reverent hand to caress the scarlet cape. It was clear that Kad had poured all of himself into the craftsmanship, as if he had melted down his very soul into the ore. Artemis felt her chest tighten, but this time, she did not try to conceal it. Now that she was alone, hidden from Kad’s view in the privacy of her own quarters, Artemis allowed herself to feel. The storm of emotions that she had restrained beneath her iron will came washing over her—not in a flood, but as a baptismal. She gently shook her head. Only beskar’gam made from the heart could be so finely crafted. It was a remarkable gift.

Artemis undressed, draping her flowing tunic over the back of a chair, and made to pull on the armor for the first time. The golden plates and blood-red mantle complimented her olive skin and dark curls, but it was the shape that was truly extraordinary. The armor’s fit was painstakingly seamless—from the sculpted plane of her shoulders, to her narrow waist, down to the flare of her hips, the measurements were dead-precise and hugged her body like a second skin.

Artemis watched her luminous reflection in the mirror as she fastened each plate’s intricate clasp. When she reached the clasp that fastened at her back, however, she paused. A frown formed over her lips. A long series of creative but fruitless twists of her arms and torso confirmed her growing suspicions—she could not fasten the clasp on her back alone. Artemis cursed quietly under her breath. Of course.

“. . . Kad?” She called, with some reluctance. “I . . . need help.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad fought the urge to let his eyes dip below the small waist of the Lioness especially after she placed her trust in his “goran eye.” It wasn't his eyes that were the problem, it was the fact he still struggled with the things which he used to quell the pain he felt. Artemis had seen him at his best, and she had seen him at his worst. She was still willing to help him and take a chance. That meant more to him than she would ever know, or he could ever express.

The slow walk to the barracks felt like an eternity. As they approached her quarters this time, Kad remembered how they had gotten to this point in the first place. Every transgression replayed in his mind. The words he had said still stung as he could hear himself repeating them. Kad still could not believe he had treated Artemis like a common harlot, assuming she would want to warm his bed. Perhaps she did, but that was beside the point now. Like any Mandalorian woman she would make what she wanted abundantly clear, a lesson he had been taught again. Kad liked her and feared his chances with her were forever ruined because of that night.

He didn't blame her when she asked him to wait. Kad nodded. “I will wait. As soon as you are ready I can't wait to see how it turned out.” His blue eyes watched as she carried the bag into her assigned quarters and turned his back when the door closed with a swoosh.

Kad leaned against the wall finding it humorous that in almost every culture men found themselves waiting outside for a woman to finish. This was not the same context, but it was still humorous. He was beginning to think it was taking her longer than it should. Perhaps he had guessed wrong on something. Kad was nervous because he wanted Artemis to like the armor once it was on. It was meant to protect her, but Kad took pride in his work. His desire was that when she wore her armor she would look like the Lioness she was and inspire fear in her enemies because of it.

When the door swooshed open again Kad was pulled out of his thoughts. Kad smiled sheepishly when she asked for his help. Stepping into the room, the door closed behind him and his eyes couldn't help giving her a once over. Kad was too curious to see his creation on her, and as he walked over it with his eyes he found the issue.

“Oh, I see,” he said as he noticed her bare back. She had opted to put the armor on right away without her kute, which wasn't an issue, but their last meeting made this much more of a test than Kad wanted it to be. He gulped as his mind wandered for a moment. “My hands… I promise they won't…” he said as calloused hands gripped back plate of the armor for support.

The clasps clicked with ease as the armor had been designed perfectly. Without much thought as to how it could be taken Kad spoke. “Perfect,” he said with a wide smile and bright color hidden in his eyes.

“Do you like it?”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

As soon as Artemis called Kad to her personal quarters, she immediately wished she hadn’t—not because she didn’t want him there. Rather, she didn’t want to tangle with the feelings that accompanied him being there. Had her room felt so small before? It suddenly felt like a cramped and awkward space, with Kad at such an intimate proximity that Artemis found herself standing stock still. An uncomfortable warmth crawled over her exposed skin and into her now stifling armor, but her outward demeanor remained cool and feline as ever.

“Did you make the armor this way on purpose?” Artemis quipped, masking her discomfort with dry humor. She might have made another witty remark, but Kad’s hands stopped her mid-sentence. The smooth olive skin of her back prickled at the near-touch of his calloused fingertips. Artemis—a woman who was never at a loss for words—felt her breath catch in her throat. As Kad began to work, all she could do was lower her proud head to study the ground in silence. An indeterminable swirl of emotions—namely, bewilderment—played out over her features, but she took care not to let him see it.

The sound of his voice called her back.

My hands . . . I promise they won’t . . .

Artemis lifted her head at once and turned over her shoulder, looking up to him with vivid green eyes. “I know,” She murmured. Reaching around with one hand, she pulled her mane of dark curls off her neck and back to afford him more space to work. It was a sign of her trust in him—sober him.

Another silence fell, this one thicker and heavier than the first. Artemis was grateful when at last the clasps clicked into place and she was able to let her hair fall long down her back, absorbing the full view of the correctly fastened armor in the mirror. The sight and the feel of the gleaming metal plates around her figure was somehow more splendid than before, but Artemis found her gaze returning to Kad’s reflection in the mirror. He stood tall behind her, a full head, shoulders, and chest above the crown of her dark curls, clad in armor of his own. When he said Perfect, Artemis nodded and quietly replied, “Yes.” The context of both remarks was unclear.

Gathering herself, Artemis stepped briskly away and turned around in the light. The dim illumination of the room seemed to set the gilded beskar aglow with her every movement. She smiled, warmth spreading over her face.

“I love it.”

It was here that she paused. Social norms seemed to dictate giving the gift-giver a hug or an embrace of some sort, but Artemis found herself balking at the notion. Instead, she took one of Kad’s large hands in both of her own. Artemis was not a breakable woman—she was stronger than her size suggested—but she was petite. The fold of her palms barely fit around his, but she offered a tender squeeze all the same.

“You put your heart into the work of your hands. This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

Slowly, she released his hand.

“I know the drunken man from the night of the hunt isn’t you. This—“ Artemis opened her arms, looking over her beautiful armor before returning her eyes to Kad’s face. “—this is you. This is who you are.”

She lowered her arms back down to her sides, holding his gaze strong.

“Every time I wear this armor, I hope you’ll be reminded of that.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

“Perhaps I did,” Kad replied in hopes to help alleviate the tension which was increasingly thick in the room.

Again Kad remembered how it had been the last time they were behind closed doors. He was sober today, and yet that only seemed to make his stomach sink all the more. It was as if his heart was both in his stomach and throats at once. The stalwart warrior was shaking nervously inside hoping the rough callouses on his hands would not bother her. He did his best to ensure his touch was not inappropriate. Kad was embarrassed in a way as he fumbled about at first like a boy who had never helped a woman with her clothing before.

The heavy silence did not make Kad any more calm. Artemis stood like the feline she was, though he could see the tension in her eyes. He'd broken her trust, and the thought made him look away from her reflection briefly.

She knew… Those words brought with them a sigh of relief which seemed to loosen the weight he'd carried with him the past ten days. Kad nodded then, and finished, happy to hear Artemis agree with his statement, though to which meaning he was uncertain. Was the armor perfect, was she? Perhaps as she looked into the mirror and saw them together it seemed perfect. Whatever it was she meant, Kad replied with a soft smile.

Soon he found his hand in hers. His eyes met her emerald gaze. They closed as she told him how she truly felt about his work. As he had told her, his hands, his work, expressed what his words could not. Kad had always been able to say more with his work than his words. Artemis was the one for speeches, but Kad was not. His words tended to fail him where hers flitted about with an eloquence Kad could only envy and adore.

They touched his heart.

Artemis had seen him for who he was, and all he could do was nod. He returned the squeeze just before she let go. He wanted her to know he had heard her.

Kad stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them to an uncomfortable nearness. Despite being so near her, it felt right. He has never been afraid to be close to the huntress. The Lioness was fierce to be sure, but something about her invited him to try. There were no words, simply the same look in his eyes from the night of the hunt. It was the look he carried just before his head had pressed to hers in a close and intimate gesture, one born out of the purest of moments between them.

His hand reached for the back of her head once more. For the second time since they had met Kad’s forehead found hers. He rest their for a moment, wanting this to be the memory which would remove his sin from the depths of his mind.

“When you wear this armor, I will see you as you are, Ar’ika, brave, proud, fierce. You will always be the Lioness of Dxun to me.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Something in the atmosphere shifted. It was heavy and familiar, as if she had felt it before. All at once, the realization swept over her skin in a heated wave. Kad was advancing upon her with the same look in his eyes as he had the night of their hunt. The look held a depth of emotion that Artemis could not readily identify, but she felt it pierce her steely resolve and cut straight through to her core. Since the loss of her husband, men had often offered her their gaze to no avail, but it was nothing like this. Where schoolgirls would have trembled at the intensity, Artemis held her ground. She stood beneath Kad’s towering shadow with a strength that suggested she was seven feet tall, as opposed to a mere five inches over five, with the crown of her dark curls barely meeting the center of his chest. Artemis was a formidable woman with no time for mawkishness, but now, so close to Kad, her heart raced.

“Kad, I—“

She would not finish her protest. Kad was upon her now, closing the space between them. Artemis looked up to him with wary green eyes, as if caught between fight or flight. When he reached a large, roughened hand behind her head, fingers entangling in her hair, Artemis froze entirely. Tension filled her neck as her whole body stiffened. The effect was akin to a bristling cat who was unsure of being touched. Unlike the night of their hunt, there was no adrenaline emboldening Artemis to accept Kad now—only his words.

When you wear this armor, I will see you as you are, Ar’ika, brave, proud, fierce. You will always be the Lioness of Dxun to me.

Artemis, although too willful to break, felt the wall she had worked to build around herself fracture. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension bled from her body. The sharpness left her eyes. All of the suspicion that had filled her discerning features was replaced with a tenderness so raw and so real that it was almost pained. She held his gaze as their foreheads touched, the second traditional mirschmure’yca they had shared, but this time, the gesture deepened. Their faces drew closer as Artemis pressed the gamine slope of her nose against his, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent, his breath, like oxygen.

“And you, the Hammer of Enceri,” She murmured, feeling her words fill the open air between their lips. There was a fleeting moment where anything might have happened—could have happened—but it was shattered in an instant.

“Lady Lux! Lady Lux!”

Artemis snapped to attention at the sound of the door rushing open and a frightened child’s voice calling her name. The little titian-haired girl from the sparring pits came bolting in, heedless to the moment between adults she had interrupted.

“What is it, Meera?” Artemis asked hoarsely, clearing her throat and pointedly removing herself from Kad’s hold. She avoided his eyes and instead engrossed herself with looking down to Meera. The child looked pale and utterly out of sorts. Artemis furrowed her brows, genuine concern replacing any awkwardness she felt from the previous moment. “Tell me, child,” She coaxed, maternal instincts taking over as she knelt down to press a comforting palm against Meera’s cheek.

“It’s Rafe,” Meera sobbed.

“Rafe? What about him?” Artemis asked. Her worries turned to the toddling boy she had held on her hip but an hour prior, when Kad had first arrived.

“He—he’s lost!” Meera hiccupped. “We were playing with the others, but when I turned around, he was gone!”

Artemis felt her heart drop like lead. There was no time to waste. The jungle of Dxun was a wild, unforgiving place. It had almost swallowed her whole, the night of the hunt, and it would show a three-year-old child no greater mercy.

“Kad—take Meera to the other children while I get properly dressed with my kute. Then meet me back here.”

It wasn’t a request.

Once alone, Artemis swiftly donned the necessary undergarments and reassembled the armor, mimicking Kad’s method for fastening the back clasp as best she could. When she emerged, her green eyes veritably blazed, and her beskad glinted wickedly at her hip. The Lioness had arrived, and she would not stand for a lost cub.

“Follow me,” She said to Kad, setting off toward the tree line. “We’re in for another hunt.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Tension filled the room as Kad’s head rest against that of the Lioness for what seemed to be an eternity. His words echoed in the silence which he had broken. There was an instant shift. The stern emerald eyes which had always carried a warning in them faded. Something permissive replaced the cautionary note Artemis kept at the ready. Kad watched as her nose reached to meet the slope of his. He didn't stop her.

Kad was unsure of what was about to happen between them, but as the warm breath of her words danced across his lips he anticipated they would meet. A drum beat deep in his chest as his heart raced in expectation. This was pure, unlike the desperate plea of a drunken warrior. Their worlds had been revolving around this moment, and despite the lack of adrenaline which had remained after the hunt, this moment had an intensity which rivaled any legend.

He was drawn to her, and as his lips neared to overtake hers the moment was stolen. Kad looked to the source of the frantic voice which called for Artemis. Meera looked frightened, scared, and unsure. In an instant the predatory instincts of the Lioness had returned to drive away the soft and unguarded woman Artemis had exposed.

Kad wanted to be frustrated, but Meera’s plea fell on compassionate ears. His imagination ran wild with images of finding the young child lifeless, the victim of the wild jungle. Artemis did not need to command Kad’s departure as he was already moving to do as she instructed. His sons may have marched on before he truly knew the responsibilities of being a father, but the urgency of the situation was not lost on him.

“As you say,” Kad replied as he scooped up the small child into his strong arms. His steps carried them away with a determination they had not known in quite some time.

Meera was left with those given the charge of caring for the young. Kad kneeled to meet her gaze and offered a small smile. “I promise you we shall find him. You will be singing the song the Lioness of Dxun and the Hammer of Enceri before the sun sets,” his words came before a kind kiss was pressed to her head.

Kad hurried to his makeshift workshop and grabbed one of the many hammers he used to fashion his creations. They had been more accessible than his beskad, and the lightsaber on his belt would suffice if he was forced to need it. The detour had been more than enough time for Artemis to ready herself, and as she stood before him fully guilded in her beskar’gam Kad stole another moment to admire how perfect his work truly was.

A smile pulled at his lips as she boasted of another hunt. This time it would be in search of their future. He fell into step behind her as they bound off toward the wilds of Dxun in the direction the boy had been last seen.

“I promised Meera she would be singing the song of our victory by sunset. I do not expect to disappoint her.” Kad’s blue eyes met the emerald orbs of the Lioness with a determination she would not have seen before. There was a fire behind them which had been lost to his grief and stolen by the bottle.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

“It’s more than just not disappointing a child—it’s not letting another child die.”

The words came out low and harsh as the hunter and huntress moved as one into the jungle’s twisted keep. Artemis’ entire demeanor had changed, like day from night, in the span of minutes. Everything about the woman had returned to its fierce leash of control—emotions under an iron lock, any sign of weakness jailed far away. For a fleeting moment, in the midst of the mirshmure’cya, Kad had loosened her steel-clad grip and almost stolen her reigns entirely. Artemis was a discerning woman and knew what would have happened between them if they had not been interrupted.

His lips had been close, too close. Closer than any man had been in years. The last man to share the unguarded tenderness of her kiss was her husband. Artemis had come one dangerous breath away from shifting that claim to Kad. The notion deeply disturbed her—frightened her—so much that she resolved to pretend as though it never happened. The disappearance of little Rafe was far from a welcome distraction, but it served as a channel for Artemis’ momentarily swimming, now redirected, focus.

It was also personal.

“I won’t lose another child, even if he isn’t my own.”

Artemis did not look to Kad when she spoke. Her sharp attention blazed forward as she cut a path through the wilderness with the curved edge of her beskad, but her eyes seemed to stare past the trees and not see them all. In her mind, all she saw was her son—his green eyes that mirrored her own, the square shape of his dimpled chin, the promise of strength and victory that had imbued his small body and foretold of a great warrior that only might have been, but could never be. Despite her resolve and sturdy resilience, Artemis felt more vulnerable and afraid now than ever. Where other women in her shoes might have crumbled, the Lioness instead grew angry. She did not want to fail again.

The hacking of her beskad through the thick limbs and twisted vines grew more forceful with every step that brought them closer to the jungle’s heart. She moved under a heavy silence, tension brewing close beneath the surface. Kad’s presence close to her back both vexed and comforted her, but there was no time for Artemis to sort out why. Rafe’s chances of survival were better with Kad at her side, and frankly, so were Artemis’. For all of her angst and dissonance, Artemis would not have pursued the child without him. The jungle was alive with a cacophony of beastly sounds, and she only prayed they found their missing charge before the monsters found him—or found them.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

“It’s more than just not disappointing a child—it’s not letting another child die.”

Her words cut through his masculine pride. Kad knew this was this was about more than disappointing a child, but it was a promise he had made nonetheless. He would not return without keeping it.

Artemis carried herself at a pace which was fueled by the fear of another loss. She could lie to anyone, but not to Kad. Telling him that she would not allow another child to die wasn't what this was about either. Many of the Mando’ade had lost family when their home had been destroyed, but Artemis and Kad had lost everything before that event. Their wounds were deep, and the pain hidden behind the facades they masqueraded in front of their fellow warriors. It was only when they had been on that hunt had the masks come off. Kad was not the inebriated womanizer most people saw, and Artemis was not the constant calm and strength she projected.

Artemis was afraid, and no intricate string of words from her mouth would convince Kad otherwise.

“I know what this about. You are not the only one to lose a son,” Kad reminded her with a soft rebuke.

She continued to hack through the growth of the wild jungle foliage. Artemis was furious, frantic to reach the boy, Rafe. For as much as Kad admired her determination he was also concerned for her. Was her personal crusade stealing her focus and clouding the her skills she needed to succeed? It was a dangerous thing to tame an angry lion, but Kad felt he had no choice. Kad would not lose another son of Mandalore either, but he would not lose the woman who had been freed from the prison of her pain only to be locked away again by this turn of events.

“Artemis,” Kad said as an armored hand rest gently on her shoulder. His gesture was soft, a stark contrast to the fiery fury of her constant slashing. “I will not let us lose another son, but I will not stand to see you lost to this fear either. We are alone. There is no need to hide from me. This is our jungle. We have conquered it, and we will find Rafe.”

Kad's words were not harsh, but they were certain. She could not expose her unguarded self for that moment which had just been shared to keep her hidden from him when they were alone. Their bond had only grown deeper and stronger because of it. Kad was not certain they could call each other friends after that moment, but they couldn't say they were anything more. The confusion was set aside for objectivity at the moment. He could sort out his feeling and mind on the matter later.

“What was that?” Kad paused tilting his head to the left. A rustling and a whimpering cry could be heard ahead of them. It was faint, but not too far. Kad knew it to be the sound of a boy.

Kad pressed ahead this time, leading off in the direction of what he had heard. He was not any less determined than Artemis, but this time it was his to radiate the cool, collected calm which was usually Artemis’ claim.

“That must be him…”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

You are not the only one to lose a son.

The solemn reminder stopped Artemis dead in her tracks. She turned over one shoulder, but her gaze still refused to meet Kad’s. “I know,” Artemis replied briskly, sharp green eyes studying the ground. Something deep within her core encouraged her to add, I’m sorry, vod’ika, but the thick shell of pride that encased her heart would not allow it. With nothing more, Artemis resumed her forward-march and pressed on with stoked intensity.

The vigor that drove her sword-arm grew wilder and more reckless. Angry beskad whistled from low to high, then high to low, and everywhere in-between, hacking away at the dense jungle growth as if it might change something. Typically, Artemis was a woman of prudence and restraint, whose ferocity operated under a strategic reign of control—but now, she was hurting.

Perspiration beaded on her smooth olive skin, and the finely carved muscles of her limber body strained. Again, and again, and again she swung, pouring the heartache she was too stubborn to show into her blade. She might have worked herself into the dirt, straight into merciful oblivion, had it not been for—

Artemis.

The calming weight of Kad’s hand on her shoulder, and the blessed sound of his voice calling her name, woke her from the fever. Artemis stopped, beskad falling to her side and chest heaving. She became suddenly aware of a gentle, stinging pressure behind her eyes, but she choked down the sensation at once. Swimming emerald gaze burned down into the earth, unwilling and unable to look to Kad as he spoke.

I will not let us lose another son, but I will not stand to see you lost to this fear either. We are alone. There is no need to hide from me.

His words both soothed and pained her, but they were enough to coax her proud head to turn. A competing blend of fighter’s spirit and vulnerability coalesced across her features as Artemis met Kad’s gaze at last. It was uncomfortable, and Artemis did not care for it, but for the most fleeting moment, she allowed him to look upon her in her rawest form. An unspoken understanding passed between them, before a sudden rustling in the brush called them back. Artemis was grateful for the diversion.

“Rafe,” She breathed, immediately turning to follow Kad. Relief swelled beneath her breast as they pushed their way through the thicket, but it just as quickly drained as they emerged into the clearing where the small boy cried. He cowered against the trunk of a soaring palm, tiny fingers stuck into his wailing mouth, while the hideous shadow of an adolescent Drexl grew closer above his head. The winged reptile bared its horrible fangs as it made landfall, screeching out its hunter’s song.

There was no time to wilt into shock or fear. Artemis’ mind was already racing to form a plan. She eyed a large, rounded stone at their feet and knelt to snatch it from the earth, cocking her elbow and aiming high.

“Ready your hammer,” She murmured to Kad. “I’ll get the boy.”

With one mighty heave, Artemis launched the stone through the air. It bounced like nothing more than rubber off the monster’s armored head, which whipped around with chilling alacrity. Reptilian eyes focused in on the newcomers, but Artemis had already taken off toward the child.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad felt power. His touch had had brought a calm and stop to the raging and mighty swings of the Lioness’ beskad. He had never known this kind of power before. Even with Ralize his touch and calm never carried this weight. It frightened him. It excited him. Kad was frightened because no one should hold that sway and use it lightly. His own treatment of her almost a fortnight ago had nearly taken advantage of the nearness this power evidenced. He was excited because it told him the place she let him have despite the wall which held captive her strongest emotions.

When she locked her gaze with his, Kad nodded at what she communicated with it. They were close, and she was no longer hiding, though she would say nothing, nor let him further. Her goal was to find the boy, and as they raced to him her determination increased once again. Kad pressed on as well. The boy’s cries moved him at the pace Artemis had taken with the same intensity.

He froze at the sight of the Drexl. Before a word could be uttered, Artemis had moved to scoop the boy. With his hammer at the ready, Kad charged the Drexl. Artemis threw the rock at the beast. It's feet pushed off the ground and charged at Artemis and with a swing of his hammer the beast crumpled against the face of the hammer. It fell dead, though a screech from the trees warned Kad of more. He called out to Artemis.

“RUN!!!”

Without delay he took his own advice looking for a wide clearing to which he could draw the enraged mother. Artemis was not the only angry mother in the woods, and Kad had certainly picked the best way to draw that wrath upon himself.

As he reached the clearing, he stopped and stood his ground. Turning to face the beast as it almost overtook him, he ducked causing it to miss him. Standing to his full height he let out a fierce battle cry which was certain to echo for some distance.

“Come and face my hammer if you dare! Your kind will not pray upon on the future of our people any longer.”

This time as the creature dove toward him, Kad swung with all his might. It was not a small infant which would break easily, but a massive creature. Still as the head of the hammer collided with the forehead of the Drexl it halted with a loud and sick crunch. The body crumpled and lay still, Kad's chest heaving with the deep breaths caused by the adrenaline coursing in his veins. He screamed again as it calmed him.

His blue eyes searched for the child, and the Lioness which held him. His gaze found her emerald eyes. The sapphires were feral, but calm at once. Kad grinned.

“How is the boy?”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

RUN!

Artemis did not need the injunction. Where there was one Drexl, there were always more. That hideous piece of knowledge curled sickeningly in the back of Artemis’ mind, but she could do nothing but bury it beneath her adrenaline. There was no time to think—she had to act. Plucking the child from the ground and scooping him into her arms, Artemis took to the jungle like a wild thing in flight.

The glimmering silhouette of her beskar’gam flashed through the viney undergrowth, wind whipping and whistling past the streamlined metal plates. What the woman lacked in size and brute strength, she compensated for in speed. Even in full armor, and with the boy hugged close to her hip, Artemis pounced and twisted around the labyrinth of trees with catlike agility. She might have made it all the way back to camp without once looking back, had Kad’s voice not rung out behind her in a thunderous bellow.

“Kad.”

Fearing the worst, Artemis stopped mid-stride and spun around, just in time to witness the Hammer of Enceri condemn a second Drexl—larger than the first—to death with one mighty swing of his mallet. The grotesquely massive beast, clearly the mother of the adolescent that had almost claimed Rafe, crumpled to the earth in a nauseating, unnatural crunch of shattered bone. Its broken body rolled to rest at Kad’s feet.

Kad, victorious warrior, stood tall and strong. Never had Artemis seen him look more Mandalorian. Blood from the dying beast stained his armor, and the veins and sinews wrapping around his thick neck strained with every heave of his broad chest. Blue eyes, usually steady and calm, were almost feral when they met her gaze across the clearing and through the trees. It was a magnificent sight—moving, even. When he broke into a grin, some indeterminable pull of emotion might have twitched at the corner of her mouth, but only for a moment. Artemis, face solemn, nodded her approval.

“He’s shaken but unharmed, save for some scrapes,” She replied when Kad rejoined them and inquired after the boy. Rafe’s little face was buried in Artemis’ shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck. He no longer cried—likely out of shock—but Artemis pressed a soothing hand against the back of his head, resting her cheek against his and rocking him in her arms. Chastisement would come later. For now, the child needed comfort.

Artemis fell silent, vivid eyes roaming freely over Kad. “Are you alright?” She asked after a moment, matter-of-fact tone softened by genuine concern. “We’d better get back to camp. Drexl hunt in more than just pairs.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Adrenaline still fueled Kad’s veins. As his eyes met with the emerald gaze of the proud Lioness, Kad felt the pride which briefly pulled at her mouth. The nod of her approval was enough to make him feel as though he could slay a Zakkeg on his own. His brain was engaged enough to know that was not the smartest idea. Besides, the mission was to find Rafe, and as he looked at the scene in front of him, Kad smiled briefly before taking Artemis’ advice. There would be Drexl before long.

“I am not hurt. In fact, I feel alive, and hungry enough to eat an entire Bantha!””

While Kad admired the sight of Artemis the boy, he moved back toward the edge of the jungle. There was not much conversation as the trio quickly returned to the encampment. At most there was a stolen glance here and there as Kad couldn't help himself. Of course when Artemis would look his way, the proud Mando’ad would look away not wanting to be caught.

His baritone voice finally broke the silence as he began to sing the song of the Lioness of Dxun and the Hammer of Enceri. This time it focused on how the pair bravely fought off the flying drexl and rescued the son of Mandalore from certain doom.

”Sing with me Ar’ika,” Kad said intoxicated on the excitement of the hunt.

When they arrived at the encampment, Meera was waiting for them. Her freckles and wild red curls seemed a mess of worry until the sight of the trio allowed a wave of relief to wash over her. Kneeling, Kad opened his arms for the girl, and hoisted her up onto his shoulders as they made their way toward the barracks. ”Did I not say you would sing our song by sunset,” Kad said to the girl. She giggled happily.

“I think it's time to get the pair of you back to your buire,” Kad chuckled with the barracks in view.

“But Rafe doesn't have any… he lives with the other orphans.”

Kad frowned and looked to Artemis. Rafe had lost his parents as they had both lost sons. His heart sank. The sorrow of the thought was apparent in his eyes, and for a brief moment Kad felt the siren song of the bottle once more. He wanted to forget he'd just heard what he had, but he had to fight through it.

“He cannot stay with the orphans tonight, not after this scare,” Kad said quietly to Artemis.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Sing with me, Ar’ika.

Artemis turned to regard Kad over the head of the boy she cradled, raising an eyebrow as a wry smile pulled at the dimple in her cheek. “You’ve lost your mind,” She murmured, but it was clear that, beneath her grudging tone, she was amused. Kad was all things roguish and playful, where she was unfailingly serious and dignified. Her sense of humor emerged only in the form of sharp, dry wit—cool and feline in the face of Kad’s puppy-like eagerness. She wouldn’t admit it, especially after their close-call, but she found his company refreshing.

A full smile broke through the purse of her lips when, upon reaching the encampment, Kad swept the waiting form of Meera onto his shoulders. The exuberant act was natural and unguarded, like everything Kad did. The difference between their personalities could not have been more stark—even Kad’s reaction to the pain of losing his family contrasted with her own. In some ways, like with his drinking and womanizing, he had come out worse than she had. In countless other ways, however, he had come out far better. He had not allowed his grief to solidify around his heart the way that Artemis had. He still laughed, and sang, and danced, and loved. Artemis watched him chatter with the little girl and suddenly felt an acute emptiness. She brushed the feeling away as quickly as it had come.

She was unsurprised by the revelation that Rafe was one of the many orphaned refugees that had found their way to Dxun, but her eyes found Kad’s all the same. “I’ll tend to him tonight,” Artemis said, before turning her attention down to Meera. “You and I need to have a talk tomorrow, but Rafe is going to be fine. Run along now.”

The little redhead gave one more wondering look up to Kad once her feet hit the ground, just before she nodded obediently and scampered away. In the meantime, Rafe had grown heavy and limp Artemis’ arms. She looked down to his still baby-like face and was gratified to find him fast asleep, tiny body drained from his misadventures. Artemis smiled. “He had quite a day,” She murmured to Kad before, unable to move her arms, quietly mouthing for him to get the door to the barracks.

Once inside, Artemis lowered herself and the child down onto the bed, propping herself up against the headboard while the little thing snored against her chest. Her eyes were reluctant at first, but eventually they lifted to regard Kad once more. “Thank you for everything today,” She said, voice quiet. “You would have made a good father. I know your family would be proud to see you now.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad just laughed when Artemis told him he was out of his mind. For the first time in a long time he actually felt in his right mind. The warrior didn't want to stop living, loving, laughing. For ten days he'd been free of the bottle, and this was the best he had felt since the loss of his family and the rejection his sorrow had caused because all he could do was try and replace his “Spirfire.” There was no need to stop singing until the reality of Rafe’s situation had quieted him. He sighed as Meera ran off.

“Yes tonight, but that doesn't solve the next night, or the one after,” Kad said his mind deep in thought.

Artemis nodded toward the doors, and Kad opened each as they came. When they stepped into her quarters the memory of what moment had been rushed to his mind. It still lingered in the air, but was overwhelmed by the sight of Rafe sleeping securely against Artemis chest. He imagined her in that moment as a mother and wondered if this night would help her, or bring her pain. Kad knew better than to suggest another alternative. Once the Lioness had her mind made up there would be no changing it.

Another memory came to Kad’s mind seeing Arty in her bed.

His indiscretion.

Pushing past that, his mind went to the moment before. Artemis had gotten him a glass of water for the night. He smiled and did the same. A cool glass of water was set next to her bed on the wooden stand which sat beside it. Her words settled on his ears. His family would be proud. For a moment his eyes closed. In the rush of the day he had forgotten his daily remembrance. He muttered it under his breath, and as promised included the names of Artemis’ husband and son.

“They would be proud of the man I was today, but not the one I have been. You've seen the disappointment in Briika’s eyes. My actions have been those of an A’lor, but then again, I am A’lor because I am the only one to carry the name Tor.”

Kad leaned over Artemis for a moment and kissed the boy on the head. He then looked to Artemis and smiled.

“I am happy you like the beskar’gam. The day has been long, and I am certain you do not wish to sleep in it. I will take my leave for the night and give you your peace. Perhaps I will stop by in the morning to see the boy…”

Kad turned to head toward the door.

“Sleep well, Ar’ika.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​