Private A Spark in The Dark

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

THEME​

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber​

Red light bled through the windows of the hospital room. The soft hum and chimes of medical equipment echoed within the barren room. Varin laid in the hospital bed, still unconscious from his rescue from The Box. A coma.

One of the medical machines beeped signaling the medical droid it was time to change his I.V. bag. Unceremoniously and without skipping its rhythmic routine, it swapped the bag with one filled with liquid, feeding his body nutrients it severely lacked.

Within his mind, within his dreams, he walked the halls of his home. Relived the memories with his family as another point of view. Watching himself grow up, tending the garden, training, meditating, praying. Many visitors had come and gone, his Master, Revna Marr, had spent time with him in the room, keeping a vigilant eye on him until other responsibilities called her away. Members of his Nagai force even visited, leaving some personal items on the table by his bed. A bullet casing, a blade and a patch that was etched in with some family coat of arms.

Still, he laid there silently, almost peacefully. His body sat within the bed like a broken frame leaning against the wall.

Shadows crept around the royal medical room as the sun arced its path through the sky, changing the angles of light in its wake.

Awaken, boy…

Ignati’s voice echoed within his mind.

We are not done…

The memories of The Box flooded through his mind, interrupting his dreams. The walls seemed to melt from his halls, chains bound him back to the floor, and ice cold wind gripped his body stilling his breath.

Awaken…Varin…

Varin’s head picked up within his freezing cell. Looking the draconic figure in the eye.

She is waiting for you…

Varin’s breath exhaled, steam leaving his lips, then the door to his cell opened. A dark figure with violet eyes stepping in. His heart raced, his fists tightened, his breath quickened as Ignati disappeared before his eyes.

All that was left was the figure and Varin.

The figures hand slowly outstretched to reach for him, drawing closer. Varin’s breath quickened before he jolted up from his bed, a sharp inhale of air filling his lungs and covered in cold sweats. His heart monitor had sped up calling in a medical droid to check in on him as his eyes flicked around the room, trying to make sense of where he was.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren had not left the room as the shadows lengthened across the walls.

At some point during the long hours, an attendant had brought her a chair, though she had rarely used it. She spent the night drifting between the broad windows, watching the crimson haze of Korriban's sky bleed into darkness, and at the bedside, where a forgotten datapad rested in her lap. The royal medical quarters were immaculate in the way all expensive things are: sterile, polished, and fundamentally detached from the suffering they contained. None of the luxury, however, made the sight of him any easier to endure.

Varin looked wrong like this.

He was too still, his skin ghostly beneath the dim red light filtered through the glass. The strength usually woven into his very frame had been reduced to shallow breaths and the fragile chorus of machines humming to compensate for what his body could not yet do.

She hated it more than she had expected to.

When the monitors suddenly spiked into sharp, rapid tones, Seren was on her feet before the sound could even echo. The datapad slipped soundlessly to the floor as she reached the bedside, her glowing amber eyes fixed on Varin just as he jerked awake with a violent, ragged inhale.

For a fraction of a second, she saw it plainly: the fear.

It wasn't weakness or simple panic; it was something older and colder. It was the kind of terror dragged back from places a person was never meant to survive.

Her expression tightened instinctively before she smoothed it into a mask of composure, though the relief beneath remained impossible to fully hide.

"Varin."

His name was low and steady, a deliberate anchor of calm. She stepped fully into his line of sight before the medical droid could crowd him, her hand lifting to rest lightly against his forearm. She didn't restrain him; she simply grounded him in the present.

"You are safe." The words were quiet but unwavering. "You are in the royal medical quarters on Korriban. The Box is gone."

She watched his eyes dart, tracking the instinctive search for threats and confinement. Her grip tightened just a fraction, anchoring him to the room rather than letting him slip back into whatever nightmare had followed him out. Somewhere nearby, the droid began droning about heart rates and recovery statistics, but Seren ignored it entirely.

Her world had narrowed to the man in the bed.

"We brought you back," she continued softly. "You have been unconscious for several days."

There was no reprimand in her tone for the scare he'd given them. No immediate demand for answers. There was only the quiet, heavy exhaustion of someone who had spent too long praying for movement.

A strand of dark hair had fallen loose against her cheek during the vigil, unnoticed and unheeded. Her fingers brushed once against his wrist, a small, unconscious reassurance that he was truly, physically there.

"…You came back to us," she murmured, her voice finally thinning at the edges as her composure frayed. "That is enough."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber​

The sound of his name pulled his attention to her, the surroundings of the cell that swirled around him slowly started to give way to a hospital room. The darkness of the blindfold he was forced to wear finally gave way to red hue from a planet he would call home.

She stepped fully into his view, her hand lightly touching his arm causing him to look down at her hand, his expression of fear slowly began to give away as he slowly laid back into the medical bed. The droid that was droning over his vitals finally quieting down as the alarms started to quiet down.

“...The Box…”

Varin’s words came quietly, almost cracked.

His gaze slowly looked around them as the recognition of medical chambers started to run through his head. The frigid cold replaced with something akin to room temperature.

“Brought me back?”

The words echoed in his head as he processed what she was saying, the fuzziness in his head still pounded unrelentingly causing him to shake his head.

“Allan, Where is…”

His words stopped when she said he had come back to them. His eyes slowly relaxing as his mind finally started to process where he was, and who was in front of him.

Seren.

She had stayed with him…

"Ki Hadzuska W'ana..."

The words came quietly and weakly as he relaxed in the bed, his hand gently gripping hers.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Only when she felt the weak pressure of his hand did the tightness in her chest finally loosen, allowing her to breathe.

Now that he was awake, the distance provided by his unconsciousness evaporated, leaving Seren to face the full extent of what The Box had done. Even with the spinal tubes removed, he looked painfully fragile. His frame was sharper than she'd ever seen it, his skin pale and marred by the lingering shadows of restraints and medical extractions.

Worse than his current state was the memory of how they had found him: blindfolded, muzzled, and bound to machinery like an object to be contained rather than a man meant to live.

The image struck her with a force that nearly broke her composure. She forced the cold fury back down; now was not the time for anger. When he spoke of The Box, his voice fracturing, she immediately tightened her grip.

"It is over," she said, her voice a deliberate anchor. "You are not there anymore."

She reached out, brushing the sweat-damp hair from his forehead in a gesture of instinctive protection, oblivious to the medical droid and staff nearby. When he asked after Allan, her expression softened.

"Alive," she answered quietly. "There was a fight during the extraction, but we got you both out."

She withheld the details, noticing the way his eyes still searched the corners of the room as if expecting the walls to close in. Then, he spoke the words—Ki Hadzuska W'ana.

The phrase was barely a breath, but she recognized it instantly. Her amber eyes softened as the memory of that night by the fire rushed back, a flicker of warmth against the clinical cold of the med-bay.

My Shadow Star.

"…You remembered," she whispered, relief bleeding through her tone.

She leaned down, resting her forehead against his for a long moment. "You frightened all of us," she admitted, her voice finally thinning at the edges. "Revna nearly dismantled the medical staff for updates, Lysander looked ready to kill for three days straight, and Shade has patrolled this room so often the guards have stopped questioning her presence."

A faint, fragile warmth touched her face as she looked back at him, her thumb brushing over his knuckles.

"And I spent every day waiting for you," she confessed, the words stripped of any royal ornament. "But you came back to me."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

When the medical staff had finished readjustments and excused themselves from the room, the walls fell silent around them. For that long moment Varin did not say anything, he rested his head against hers, his breathing ragged as he weakly pulled her closer.

“I could never forget…”

He could only imagine the chaos that had ensued after he had arrived back on Korriban, orders given, a room cleared and prepped, heightened states of emotion. The residual feelings still lingered within the walls of his room, and he could feel its energy.

When she stated how she waited every day for him his hold tensed around her, his arms shaking. His attempt to hold her tighter was severely limited from the pain in his shoulders.

“It was so hard…”

His voice broke, a quiet but deep inhale as he attempted to fight back the well of emotions that tried to overtake him.

“It was so hard to come back…”

A shuddering shaking breath caused his shoulders to slouch low.

“I was given…promises of home…”

He continued, thinking of the time when Allan spoke with him before his abduction and his journey to The Box.

“I learned…that I cannot accept the promise of home simply given to me…”

He looked at his fingers that had rested on her back and shoulders.

The pale color, the thin look that replaced his usual strength.

Stripped away…

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren felt the tremor vibrating through Varin's arms as he strained to pull her closer, a physical manifestation of the weakness hidden beneath his resolve and the pain threaded through his every movement. Rather than allowing him to struggle against his own limitations, she carefully shifted nearer, closing the distance herself so he could keep the closeness he craved without demanding anything more from a body that had already endured far too much. Her hand remained a steady, grounding warmth against him, anchoring him while she listened to the raw fracture in his voice.

It was so hard to come back.

The admission settled heavily inside her chest, for while the physical injuries were plain to see, it was the hollow sound of those words that revealed just how close he had come to never returning at all. Her glowing amber eyes followed his gaze downward toward his hands, tracing the newfound thinness where strength used to reside, and the exhaustion carved sharply into his skin, until a look of painful tenderness crossed her features. It wasn't pity, for she would never diminish him with such a shallow thing; it was a profound, quiet grief for the pieces of him that had been stolen away.

"Varin…" she whispered, his name treated with a soft reverence as her fingers gently closed over his hand, shielding his sight from the image of himself as something diminished. "You came back anyway," she added with a quiet certainty that didn't seek to dismiss his suffering, but rather to honor the sheer magnitude of the strength required to survive it.

As he spoke of the hollow promises of home and his realization that peace could not simply be handed to him, Seren fell into a thoughtful silence. Her thumb brushed slow, rhythmic circles across his knuckles while the harsh, red glow of the Korriban sky cast long, bleeding shadows across the room, emphasizing the coldness of their surroundings.

"When you are stronger," she finally murmured, her voice becoming a calm, steadying weight in the quiet room, "allow me to offer you my home again, not as a promise meant to lure you, nor as an obligation you are forced to accept, but as a sanctuary."

She leaned in until her forehead rested lightly against his, creating a small, private world that excluded the sterile walls and the weight of the Sith academy outside. "I mean somewhere quiet, Varin. Somewhere far away from the courts, the duties, and the endless, crushing expectations that this life demands of you." Her voice softened until it was barely more than a breath shared between them. "Just us. You can rest there until the shadows in your eyes have cleared and you have truly recovered, and only when you are ready will we decide what comes next."

Her fingers tightened gently around his, a silent vow of presence. "But this time," she promised, her gaze meeting his with unwavering honesty, "it will not be a false promise."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

His eyes shifted to her hand as she placed it over his, covering the result of what The Box had presented in his physical being.

When she said his name his eyes slowly raised to meet hers once again.

He had come back anyway…

He looked down at her hands once more as they traced small patterns and circles over his, a gentle gesture that he had grown to cherish from her. A feeling of “everything will be all right.” His hand gently squeezed hers as she offered him sanctuary in her home.

Malachor…

It had been too long since he had visited her, and that was his fault.

When she rested her forehead to his his eyes closed, a deep breath slowly filling his lungs before escaping. He knew that seeing him like this was taking its toll on her, someone who was an image of strength now reduced to a bedridden shell.

When her gaze met his, a small tear ran down his cheek from his good eye, slowly trailing down his jaw.

He felt her fingers tightened over his, his other hand slowly came up to rest on her cheek.

“I remember what you had told me on that beach…”

His voice struggled to present the usual tone he was accustomed to. The pain and the overwhelming sensation of everything that has happened affecting notably his physical being, but his emotional and spiritual.

“You told me…you were not going anywhere.”

His breath hitched as he took another quick breath.

“That you would stay with me…”

His thumb gently grazed over her cheekbone.

“And yet, not only did you stay…you were part of the crew who came for me…”

He paused as he took another shaking breath.

“And you offer me even more after that…”

A small curve at the corners of his mouth lifted.

“What am I to give you if I accept?”

Everyone who had taken hand in his rescue had sacrificed something for him, even going headfirst into danger for someone who was left broken. They could have left him in his cell to die…but they didn't.

He thought of the moment his mother had come to him while he was bound, taunting him of his new family that he had replaced them with.

It was not true, he could never replace them, just as he could still never replace Seren or Lysander or Revna or even Darth Strosius.

Even Shade had helped him. Something he would be thinking on and digesting for a while, especially after her promise of never letting Allan take him. She put everything in her to prevent it, he saw it. He noted it and he vaulted it in his mind, never to be forgotten.

“What am I to give any of you…”

His voice was but a whisper as another tear rolled down his other cheek, a tint of crimson in the tear.

Seren Gwyn

Mentioned: Lysander von Ascania | Revna Marr | Darth Strosius | Shade​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren remained perfectly still as his hand rose to her cheek, her body intuitively leaning into the contact to support the movement, ensuring she bore the weight so he wouldn't have to face the exhaustion it cost him. Her glowing amber eyes never wavered, anchored to his face with a gaze that refused to flinch. Not when the tears began to fall, and not when his voice fractured under the crushing magnitude of the ghosts he was still trying to outrun.

When a single, crimson-tinted tear tracked a slow path down his cheek, a sharp, suffocating ache tightened in her chest. It wasn't born of fear for his physical state, nor the sight of his blood; it was the realization that even here, safe and broken, he was still trying to find a way to make himself responsible for the simple fact of his survival.

Her hand lifted with a deliberate, haunting slowness, her fingers brushing the tear from his skin with a touch so light it was almost a prayer, catching the salt and iron before it could fall any further.

"Varin…" His name left her lips as a soft, aching breath that seemed to fill the hollow silence of the medical bay.

She offered him the gift of her silence as he spoke, listening to the agonizing rhythm of his words. She heard the guilt that he had woven into his gratitude, and the way he spoke of love, loyalty, and his very rescue as though they were ledgers to be balanced—debts he intended to pay with a spirit that was already spent. When he finally looked at her and asked what he could possibly give in return for such a sacrifice, Seren's expression softened into something so profoundly tender it felt almost like a physical embrace.

"Nothing," she answered. The word was immediate, a tectonic shift of certainty that brooked no argument. It was absolute. It was final.

Her fingers slid gently through his hair, her touch soothing the tension in his scalp rather than restraining him, a rhythmic tether to the present.

"You do not owe me a life spent in penance, Varin. You do not owe me your suffering balanced into some equal, agonizing measure, and you certainly do not owe me a debt for the simple fact that I cared whether you lived or died."

She leaned in until the world narrowed down to the space between them, her forehead resting against his in a silent vow of shared burdens. Her thumb continued its slow, steady path along his cheekbone, tracing the hollows carved by his recent torment.

"I stayed by your side because there was nowhere else in this galaxy I had any desire to be," she whispered, the quiet honesty of the admission filling the space between their heartbeats. "I came for you because the thought of a world without you in it was a silence I refused to accept."

The room around them, with the sterile hum of the life-support machines, the flickering monitors, and the cold, crimson glow of the Sith world outside, seemed to dissolve into insignificance, leaving only the heat of their breath.

"And if you truly insist on measuring the worth of a soul by the lives they have saved…" A ghost of a smile, fragile but warm, touched her lips as she looked into his eyes. "…you already saved mine once."

She held his gaze, her eyes reflecting a clarity that saw past the "bedridden shell" he believed himself to be, seeing instead the man who had always been her equal.

"You dove into the crushing weight of open water for me, Varin. You threw yourself into the depths despite barely knowing how to keep yourself afloat, without a single thought for your own safety."

There was a flicker of dry, protective affection beneath the raw emotion. A glimpse of the Seren he knew before the world had turned to ash.

"It was an objectively reckless, impulsive, and terrifying decision, for the record," she murmured. Her hand settled fully over his, her palm acting as an anchor to keep him from drifting away into his own head. "But I do not love you because you are a hero, or because you are strong, or because you can save me."

The confession came with the natural ease of a truth that had been lived long before it was spoken, stripped of all guards and pretenses.

"None of this is transactional to me. Not your survival, not the pain you carry, and certainly not the time it will take for you to heal. You are not a project to be finished or a debt to be collected."

Her thumb brushed beneath his eye one last time, wiping away the lingering traces of his sorrow.

"You do not need to earn a place beside me, Varin. You do not need to prove you are worthy of being loved while you are hurting."

Then, in a voice that was barely a breath, she finished: "You already have your place. You've had it since the beginning."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

Nothing…

The word caused an ache within his chest, his hand gently tightened over her hand. He slowly relaxed as her hand grazed his cheek. His eyes closed as he listened to her speak, his head leaned forward.

As she spoke of when he had saved her while they were fishing a small smile cracked his face followed by a small chuckle.

His gaze caught her again as her thumb gently wiped away the tears that streaked his cheek.

He let her speak, listening to every word with undivided attention, listening to the changes in her voice, watching the changes in her facial expression.

His eyes gently closed when she said he always had a place, his place.

A deep inhale filled his lungs, before slowly releasing.

“Your words cut deeper than any blade I have met…”

His voice was almost a breath.

“I am reckless and impulsive at times, that is true. But…”

The word hung in the air for a moment before he continued.

“I am far too stubborn to lay down and die from one bad decision.”

His fingers gently caught her chin.

“And I also have one good decision sitting with me to make sure I always get back up…”

He gently pressed his lips on her forehead, then with a whisper he spoke.

“It's been too long since I have come to Malachor…”

A small smile lifted his lips.

“Besides…I need to check on your garden, see how it is doing.”

A small quiet laugh escaped him before he winced slightly from the ache in his ribs.

“I…”

He paused for a moment looking deeply into her eyes, almost without thinking his voice became a whisper once more.

“I love you…and I will be coming back to Malachor once I have gotten some strength back.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren felt the small, familiar tightening of his hand around hers and held it without a moment's hesitation, her thumb maintaining its slow, absent rhythm across his skin as she focused entirely on the cadence of his voice. The lingering weakness was still there, threaded through every shallow breath and hesitant pause, yet beneath the physical exhaustion, she could hear the gradual return of the man she knew. The part of him that had been painfully absent when he first woke a few moments ago.

Relief moved through her so suddenly that she nearly closed her eyes against the force of it, watching as a small smile and a quiet chuckle escaped him despite the weight of everything he had endured. It was a profound realization that he was still truly there, still capable of warmth and humor, and still loving her enough to tease her gently about their garden even while his body struggled to recover from the horrors of his ordeal.

The sheer strength of that thought nearly broke her carefully maintained composure all over again.

As his fingers moved beneath her chin to draw her attention back to him, her glowing amber eyes remained steady on his, watching him speak of his own stubbornness and his refusal to stay down after a single terrible decision. A faint breath of amusement touched her expression despite the underlying gravity of the moment, a flicker of her usual spirit returning to meet his.

"Only one?" she murmured softly, her voice regaining a trace of its dry warmth. "I believe your history suggests a persistent pattern of recklessness rather than a single, isolated incident."

The playful edge to her words softened immediately when he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and at the mention of the garden, something within her visibly softened in a way rarely seen by anyone else. This wasn't the composed, measured softness she often used as a shield, but something far more personal that sent her mind racing back to Malachor and the small sanctuary they had painstakingly carved out of a world defined by ruin and death. She could almost feel the warmth of the fading sunlight on the stone pathways and the grit of the dark soil beneath their hands as they tended to the stubborn flowering vines he had insisted would survive the harsh environment.

"The garden is still alive and waiting for you," she said quietly, her voice carrying a deep tenderness she made no further effort to disguise. "Though I should warn you that several of the plants are beginning to grow quite unevenly because someone has been absent far too long to keep up with his side of the labor."

A faint, genuine smile touched her lips as she watched him, her fingers brushing gently through his hair before settling once more against the curve of his cheek.

"I did consider fixing the overgrowth myself, but I ultimately decided you would probably find some reason to object if I started rearranging the entire landscape without your supervision."

When he finally spoke the words of his love for her, they settled deeply into her soul, finally quieting the sharp, lingering fear she had been carrying since the moment they first pulled him from that cell. She rested her forehead lightly against his and closed her eyes briefly, allowing the weight of his confession to anchor her in the present.

"Good," she whispered, the single word carrying more emotional weight than its simplicity should have allowed, "because I fully intend to be the one who brings you back to that peace."

Her gaze lifted to meet his once more, unwavering and fierce in its devotion as she looked toward the future they still had left to claim.

"And once you have regained your strength, you are going to sit in that garden with me, find something to complain about regarding how I've trimmed the vines incorrectly, and spend the afternoon pretending you aren't enjoying every second of the quiet."

A soft breath of almost-laughter escaped her then, a fragile but real sound that filled the space between them.

"I love you far too much to let a place like The Box be the last thing that ever tried to claim you."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

His fingers gently brushed back some of her hair behind her ear, his gaze falling over the entirety of her face. Taking in the shadows that sharpened the curves and edges of her face. He could see the pain she had been enduring while he was asleep, while options were quickly draining and while the question on if he would make it burned into doubt.

He was looking into the face of someone who loved him.

“Perhaps I am bad at counting my mistakes.”

He spoke quietly a small chuckle leaving him as he continued to brush back strands, revealing more of her face to him.

Her words about the garden brought a small sigh of relief to him, but it was no surprise she was able to keep the oasis alive.

“Sounds like I have some work ahead of me, some of those plants are rather picky on where they wish to be. Besides, I think you are due for a break from working in the garden.”

A small breath of amusement left his chest before he finished moving the small strands. His hand gently lingered on her cheek, his head resting on hers.

“Well, if that has been your plan all along, to bring me peace, I would say it's likely already working, as for the trimming, maybe I should give you further lessons. Sinew would certainly love another trip over.”

The small jest was accompanied by another soft smile before his voice quieted for just her.

“They would have to do more than that to keep me from breathing. Especially if it were to take me away from you.”

His other hand slowly picked hers up bringing it to his lips.

His eyes found hers again, taking in the vigilance that she had stood while he rested, the exhaustion that likely filled her. A small frown appeared on his face.

“You may rest here with me if you wish, lovely.”

His thumb grazed her cheek as he looked at her, a whisper escaping him.

“I am here now.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren stayed perfectly still beneath the gentle touch of his hand as he brushed her hair back, allowing him to look at her without the barriers she once meticulously maintained. Whatever emotional distance had existed between them had long since worn away. Dissolving somewhere between vast oceans, shared gardens, and the whispered confessions of a world that should have broken him completely. Her glowing amber eyes remained fixed on his while he spoke, softening as she found the faint, stubborn humor that still survived within him despite the shadows of his ordeal.

"You are absolutely terrible at counting your mistakes," she murmured, the dry warmth in her voice carrying an unmistakable, heavy affection. "Though I am beginning to suspect your stubbornness is the only reason the universe hasn't finished you off yet."

The gentle teasing faded as he mentioned the garden, replaced by a quiet tenderness that always accompanied thoughts of Malachor. To others, it was a dead world, but to Seren, it was the sanctuary they had carved out together with careful hands and endless patience. At the mention of Sinew, however, a faint spark of mischief finally managed to pierce through her exhaustion.

"Mm. About Sinew…" she began, her tone shifting into something lighter, almost conspiratorial. "Before you disappeared, you left her with Lina so she could spend time among the other tuk'atta, and apparently, she enjoyed that freedom far too much."

Her thumb brushed softly across the back of his hand while she watched the realization slowly form behind his tired eyes.

"She is larger now, considerably louder, and significantly less respectful of the furniture. Lina informed me she has become far too confident around the others, but a few days ago, I went to retrieve her myself."

Her voice softened, revealing the quiet honesty of someone who had spent every day he was unconscious preparing for the moment he might finally see something familiar again.

"She is nearby now, likely asleep unless she has managed to convince the guards to surrender their rations to her. I suspect she will be very pleased to discover you are conscious enough to spoil her personally again."

The humor eventually quieted, turning into something more raw as her hand rose to rest against his face. Her thumb brushed carefully beneath the crimson-tinged tear that had dried against his skin, her touch lingering as if to anchor him there.

"You do not need to fight so hard this very second," she whispered, her words moving past simple reassurance into the territory of a solemn promise. "You are safe here."

As he offered her rest and spoke of finally being present, the tension Seren had carried since his rescue visibly eased, the fear beneath her eyes finally giving way to a profound, bone-deep relief.

"Good," she murmured, her voice thick with suppressed emotion. "Because I was becoming very tired of speaking to unconscious royalty who refuse to answer back."

A breath of gentle amusement escaped her before she leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his forehead. With more tenderness than she ever allowed herself to show openly, she settled beside him as much as the medical bed permitted, needing to feel the steady rhythm of his breathing to convince herself he was truly back.

Her forehead settled lightly against his temple as she let her eyes close.

"Then I will rest," she whispered into the quiet hum of the room. "Right here."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

A small laugh left him after she spoke of how terrible at counting mistakes he was.

“At least I know you were not one of them.”

His hand gently grazed over her arm as she laid beside him. When she spoke of Sinew, Varin's gaze grew sharper for a moment. At first thinking the worst, if anything had happened to his Tuk'atta pup, there would be hell to pay.

But she told him news he was not expecting.

Sinew had grown, and she was waiting for him. A small exhale left him, a speechless breath of a chuckle.

She had retrieved her for him.

“...thank you.”

The phrase was quiet, he had missed Sinew while he was gone, and he wondered how she was holding up, or even if she remembered him.

Truth be told, that last part was the scariest part.

What if he showed himself to her and she did not notice him anymore.

“I would love to see her, but I don't think the room could take the chaos of a Tuk'atta hellbent on excitement.”

A small chuckle left him.

A slow exhale left him as he laid back in the bed beside her, the exhaustion hovering over the both of them.

But all he could do was look at her, watch her fall asleep in his arms. His thumb gently rubbed over her forearm as he listened to her breathing.

She was real.

And she was beside him.

His head laid back and his eyes tracked to the ceiling, thinking of the pathway to here. Not from the box but further back.

How he was just a scared teenager who had crash landed in the very sands of this planet and was lucky enough to be brought in by a master that still cared for his wellbeing.

He thought about the time the heat of his body blew out of control while Revna looked into his memories, how the sandpit turned into red glass sticking into his shins.

She pulled them out, washed his wounds and gave him a bed.

And yet, his Master still cared enough to help rescue him.

I need to thank her

He thought to himself. He already owed her so much.

He looked back at Seren, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. A press of his lips to her forehead before he too succumbed to sleep.

Blackness consumed him, delivering him to deep slumber once more.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

The following days passed slowly, measured less by the clocks mounted in the royal medical wing and more by the quiet triumphs of recovery. It was found in the gradual return of strength to trembling hands, the easing strain in Varin's breathing, and the triumphant moment he finally managed to stand entirely without assistance, all accompanied by the increasingly irritated expressions of the medical staff whenever he or Seren questioned their strict timeline.

Beyond the windows of the recovery suite, Korriban remained unchanged with its crimson skies, dry winds, and ancient stone, but the world within the medical quarters had narrowed into something comforting and quiet. For perhaps the first time in a very long while, Varin was forced to simply exist rather than fight, command, or endure, and Seren remained right by his side through all of it. Sometimes she read while seated beside the bed, other times she worked quietly on unfinished pieces from her satchel while he rested, and often they simply shared a peaceful silence that no longer felt empty.

Of course, the quiet did not extend to Sinew, who had absolutely remembered him.

Their reunion had been immediate, joyful chaos as the young tuk'atta nearly bowled over two exhausted medical attendants to reach him, filling the room with delighted growls and frantic affection. In her pure excitement, she completely shredded an expensive upholstered chair after mistaking it for either a mortal enemy or a giant chew toy. The incident resulted in Sinew being formally banned from unsupervised visits, which had Seren laughing so hard she could barely breathe for nearly ten minutes.

By the end of the week, the atmosphere around the room had changed noticeably because the medical droids hovered less anxiously and fewer machines remained attached to him. The exhaustion still lingered in his frame, but it no longer carried that frightening fragility, and finally, after entirely too many evaluations and repeated warnings about physical moderation, the physicians relented.

He had travel clearance, limited and conditional, but approved.

The red evening light spilled softly through the windows as Seren stood at the foot of the bed, reviewing the datapad one final time, her glowing amber eyes scanning the medical authorization as if she were only barely resisting the urge to argue with the details.

"According to the physicians," she said dryly, "you are now considered sufficiently recovered to leave Korriban, provided you refrain from doing anything reckless, self-destructive, physically exhausting, politically inflammatory, or emotionally stressful. Which I assume means they have never actually met you."

The slightest trace of warmth touched her lips before she lowered the datapad, her eyes softening as she looked down at him.

"Your transport is prepared, and before you ask, yes, Sinew is coming with us. Though the medical staff requested I inform you that if she destroys another chair, they fully intend to bill you personally."

The lingering humor melted away into something deeply tender as Seren crossed the remaining distance between them, her hand resting lightly against his shoulder as she leaned in close.

"You kept your promise," she murmured quietly, her gaze holding his with an intensity that spoke of how terrifying the alternative had been. "You came back to me."

She offered him a small, beautiful smile, the kind that promised safety and peace.

"Now let me take you home to Malachor."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

“To think I needed to wait until they gave me permission to basically do the same thing I have been doing but now I can be outside.”

The humor touched his voice as a small sigh left him.

Slowly he pulled himself out of the medical bed ready to change into his daily attire. The medical gown had served to be less than adequate when it came to comfort. He no longer had to worry about most of his body being exposed to the entire world now.

The process was slow and a bit stiff in his joints as he changed back into his clothes, finally putting his boots back on and a breath of relief left him.

As he stood back up his body cobbled just a bit before he caught himself by the chair, then his hand grasped the sheathed black blade, using the weapon to steady himself.

He looked over to the pile of furniture that Sinew was still laying in. The medical staff were too frightened to get near her favorite bed.

“I mean, how expensive can these chairs be? They are just…furniture right?”

His hand gently wrapped around hers after she placed it on his shoulder, his head leaned down before he whispered to her.

“I intend to always keep my promises.”

A small smile lifted his lips before he gently kissed her.

“I am certainly ready to get out of this room.”

He looked over to Sinew, giving her a short sharp whistle. Without hesitation, the large Tuk'atta stood up from her ruined pile of furniture, pieces of wood and cotton strewn about the floor around her. Her body shook then she placed her paws forward arching her back into a deep stretch.

Varin chuckled then his hand reached over scratching behind her ears.

“Big stretch.”​

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren watched him carefully as he rose from the bed, her expression calm though her attention never strayed far from the subtle stiffness in his movements or the momentary wobble in his balance. She resisted the immediate instinct to steady him herself, mostly because she knew precisely how stubborn he would become if she hovered too openly.

Still, her hand shifted slightly closer the moment he caught himself on the chair. Just in case.

The faintest trace of amusement touched her face as he complained about the medical restrictions.

"Mm. Apparently, walking outside becomes an advanced privilege once physicians are involved," she observed dryly while watching him reclaim pieces of himself through familiar motions. Boots. Blade. Proper clothing. Simple things, but important ones.

He looked more like himself now. Not fully recovered, not yet, but no longer swallowed by the sterile helplessness of the medical wing either.

Her gaze flicked briefly toward the ruined remains of the chair Sinew had claimed as territory, and the warmth in her expression deepened despite herself.

"Judging by the reaction of the staff, I suspect this particular chair was considered tragically irreplaceable." A faint pause followed. "Though I am fairly certain Sinew believes she improved it."

The tuk'atta, immediately responding to his whistle, drew something softer from Seren entirely. Relief, perhaps. Relief in seeing recognition, routine, and affection. Proof that pieces of his life had survived intact despite everything.

As Sinew stretched dramatically amidst the wreckage, Seren folded her arms lightly and shook her head with quiet disbelief.

"She has grown entirely too comfortable around authority figures," she murmured. "Yesterday she stole food from a guard captain and then growled at him as though he had inconvenienced her personally."

There was unmistakable affection beneath the criticism. Her glowing amber eyes returned to Varin after he kissed her, lingering there for a long moment as he spoke about keeping promises. Something in her expression softened almost painfully at that.

"Good," she said quietly, her hand slipping naturally into his again. "Because I have become rather attached to you keeping them."

Then, after a brief glance toward the door and the red light beyond it, the faintest spark of lighter humor returned to her gaze.

"Come then, my recovering king," she murmured softly. "Let us escape before the physicians realize you are mobile and attempt to confiscate your freedom again."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

His eyes rolled slightly at the mention of the physicians. To him it sounded like they were being far too cautious of him, he was not a child anymore, and he certainly was not made of glass.

“They tend to suck the fun out of everything.”

He looked at her with a sly smirk.

“Well of course she had improved it. I say it looks far more comfortable than before.”

He knelt beside the Tuk’atta, placing both of his hands on either side of her muzzle, then gave a quick ruffle of his hands. A playful growl leaving Sinew’s throat caused Varin to laugh quietly before he stood back up.

When she relayed the story to him about Sinew stealing a guard captains food he gave Sinew a look, his brow arched.

Sinew just looked up at him tongue lulling to the side as she panted.

“Well was it at least good? Or was it just some ration bars?”

Truthfully he didn’t think it mattered, Sinew would eat just about anything.

“When she was a pup I had to keep her from eating the small stones in the temple. I’ll bet you will want to terrorize the man now huh?”

His hand met the side of Sinew’s flank with a hearty clap as he playfully slapped his hand on her side, followed by giving her some pats.

When he finally stood up, Sinew walking to his side and scabbard in hand, he was finally ready to exit the medical facility. The tapping of the scabbard echoed through the halls as he took slower steps, the guard captain quickly stood up at the sight of Sinew before looking at Varin.

Vari noted the startle and tilted his head.

“Never seen a service pet before, Captain?”

He smiled as he walked by him, Sinew offering him a playful growl before trotting to catch up to Varin.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren walked beside him at an intentionally measured pace, careful not to force him to move faster than his body was ready for, even if she suspected pride alone would have carried him halfway across the academy by now. The rhythmic tapping of his scabbard against the floor echoed softly through the corridors, accompanied by the heavier, familiar tread of Sinew padding faithfully at his side. The sight stirred something warm and painfully relieving within her; it wasn't because he was fully healed, he clearly was not, but because he finally looked alive again.

The dry amusement in her expression returned at his commentary about the medical staff. "Mm. Their terrible flaw is an unreasonable desire to keep their patients alive," she observed, her gaze drifting briefly toward him with a quiet fondness. "Truly oppressive people."

The corners of her mouth lifted as she watched him fuss over Sinew, the massive tuk'atta immediately melting into delighted attention beneath his hands. The creature's playful growl earned Seren a quiet breath of laughter, softer and more relaxed than it might once have been.

"I regret to inform you the guard captain's meal was apparently excellent," she confessed, her glowing amber eyes drifting toward Sinew with clear entertainment. "She stole an entire tray and then attempted to negotiate for additional portions through sheer intimidation. And by negotiate, I mean she sat on his foot until he surrendered."

As they moved deeper into the halls, however, Seren's attention subtly shifted outward. Guards straightened as Varin passed—some looking openly relieved, while others looked uncertain, as though they were watching a ghost walk the corridors rather than a recovering man barely cleared to travel. The weight of their presence lingered quietly in the air; everyone noticed him, and they all noticed her walking firmly beside him.

When the startled captain jumped slightly at Sinew's approach, and Varin delivered his perfectly straight-faced comment about a "service pet," Seren had to lower her head briefly, pretending to inspect something near her sleeve. The movement did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she was suppressing a smile, and Sinew's parting growl at the captain finished the effort entirely. A soft, genuine laugh escaped Seren at last. A warm sound few people ever had the privilege to hear from her.

"You are both impossible," she informed them quietly, falling back into step close by his side. After a few more measured paces through the quieter stretches of the corridor, her hand brushed lightly against his arm. She didn't do it to steady his balance this time, but simply because she needed to feel the reality of him there. Her voice softened to a murmur meant only for him, thick with an affection she rarely allowed herself to show. "It is good to see you walking beside me again, Varin."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

He looked over to her as she hid her smile, the way she tried to hide it. It drew a genuine smile from him as well, as the sounds of Sinew keeping up with the duo echoed down the hall. Her laughter pulled his gaze back to her as she stated about his shenanigans. When her hand came up to his arm, his other hand met hers, not to halt, but to hold. Her words causing him to pause step and look her in the eyes.

“Truly the highlight of my past couple of months, being able to step beside you.”

His free arm locked beneath hers in a joint hold that was gentle as it were secure, His eyes looked straight ahead of them as they met a ramp heading downward towards the landing bay where his ship awaited them.

Already supplies were being loaded in by droids and a single engineer directing them to their places. CC was with them assisting in the matter and very quite possibly annoying the engineer as to where to put everything. CC had a specific way things went on the ship to try to keep it tidy, and they were very picky about what went where.

As they drew nearer CC’s head looked over then doubletaked as the trio drew nearer.

“Master Varin! Is it really you?!”

CC walked closer getting a better look at him.

“You are quite thin, were they not feeding you?!”

CC leaned in between Seren and Varin.

“Should I end some of them for this poor hospitality?”

Varin’s hand slowly rose to meet him.

“Not at all CC, they did their best and I will not have you running a rampage in the royal medical wing.”

CC blinked for a moment.

“As you wish Master Varin.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren's expression softened immediately when his hand met hers around her arm, the gesture grounding and familiar in a way that still caught her off guard sometimes. Even after everything they had endured together, there were moments where the simple reality of him standing beside her still felt strangely miraculous.

His words only deepened that feeling.

For a brief moment, the carefully maintained composure in her glowing amber eyes thinned beneath something warmer, more vulnerable.

"I should hope so," she murmured softly, the dry affection in her voice impossible to miss now. "I would be deeply offended if torture and medical supervision ranked higher than my company."

The warmth lingered between them as they descended toward the landing bay together, Sinew trotting proudly nearby like an oversized predator convinced she personally supervised the evacuation effort.

The sight of the ship waiting below stirred something quieter inside Seren. Relief, perhaps. Not merely because they were leaving Korriban, but because the future was finally beginning to exist again beyond hospital walls and uncertainty.

Then CC noticed them.

Seren had exactly enough warning to see the double-take before the droid hurried toward them in visible alarm, immediately assessing Varin with the sort of offended concern only an overly attached droid could produce.

When CC asked if they should "end some of them," a faint breath of amusement escaped Seren before she could quite stop it.

Of course, that was the immediate solution proposed.

Her glowing amber eyes shifted briefly toward Varin as he immediately intervened, and the warmth in her expression deepened subtly at the familiarity of it all. CC's concern was genuine, even if the proposed response remained deeply concerning.

"For what it is worth," she said gently once CC settled, "I agree he requires significantly more food and considerably less imprisonment."

Sinew gave an approving sound at that, which only deepened the faint amusement in Seren's expression.

Her hand brushed lightly once against Varin's arm again before her attention shifted toward the ship and the loading droids reorganizing crates under CC's increasingly particular supervision.

"I assume," she added calmly while watching one unfortunate droid get redirected for the third time, "that arguing with CC about cargo placement is still a losing battle."

Varin Mortifer