Private Forbidden

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

The night sky stretched out above Keldabe's ruined streets. Elise Vizsla was walking home after a night spent relaxing for once, and was feeling guilt over it. Here Keldabe stood, still in ruins. There was still work to be done, and Elise had been stuffing her face and drinking tihaar.

Buy'ce held at her side, the Mandalorian gazed up at the stars. They were so different from her homeworld of Archais, but these star patterns were just starting to become familiar. Elise hoped to reach out to her mentor Siyarr as she dreamwalked tonight, and to update him on her work here at Keldabe.

It was a deserted street she walked down, empty and void. Dry dirt and sand coated the parched streets and crumbled structures. It was horrible. Elise paused, her red kama hung over her back. There was no wind in this arid ruin, only the stench of long decayed structures piled with dust.

She wondered, how in a bleak galaxy like this, she could possibly make all things right in this land.

She stood there, for a moment, before a familiar Force Signature floated into the edges of her Sense parameter. She gasped, bringing her hand to her heart as she recognized it oh too well. Pain, woe, regret, and affection fluttered in her heart as tears formed in her eyes. Could it... could it be...?

She clenched her buy'ce, and abruptly started running.

Running towards the Force Signature, she weaved through streets, ruined houses, and decrepit side roads. She found herself in the most deserted depths of Keldabe, as she chased the Force Signature. Panic, alertedness, and physical pain. It all alarmed her, she she started to use Force Speed to close the distance. She was sure that his kind being on Mandalore was bound to garner conflict and combat. Had one of her fellow vod hurt him? And why did it make her feel so conflicted inside? She gritted her teeth, sharply turning a corner and skidding in the dirt pathway as she spotted a lone figure standing at the other side of the path. Her cloaked flowed from the wind of her dash as she panted, out of breath. Her blonde hair laid on her shoulders and back, complimented by her red and white armor. Beneath a half destroyed house, he stood. She saw him face to face, for the first time since he had lowered the hatch to his ship on Archais. She felt his presence for the first time, since he and her nearly were forced to fight each other above Mandalore's atmosphere. And now, here he stood. And now, here she came to meet him once more.

Wariness meshed with genuine concern as she shouted through the midnight chill, calling his beautiful name, "Malum!"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Keldabe was no more beautiful at night than it was in the day, distracting thoughts informed him, as he slowly, weakly, trudged along broken walls, and dark alleyways. It had been so stupid to put himself in a position to be caught by a Force Dead, memories of those moments, of that first meeting with Lady Tremiru on Saijo, of the netherworld making itself manifest on Elrood, and of course... Darth Strosius' artefact on Fiviune.

He stopped, hissing out into the darkness as a great hammering strike blew across his mind.

He almost fell to his knees upon the broken, dirty ground, he knew his legs were begging for that, he had barely been able to clean and bandage wounds, that had been made when the snipers blew chunks out of his thigh and calf. It was a small mercy that they had not succeeded in blowing out his kneecaps, he would have certainly not been able to escape then, an even smaller mercy more that they had been clean wounds, in this state... he was in no position to pull out bullet debris.

Bogan, he was so stupid exposing himself, believing that Mia Monroe would protect him. To trust the one who had killed his men, who was simply a tool to kill Kaine, Bogan, he was growing soft.

Something both halves of his mind were more than willing to punish him for, as soon as he escaped this cursed world.

It was what he deserved for trusting Moridinizid hospitality he supposed.

Still, all things considered, the fact he could still weakly walk, that he had avoided detection as darkness fell upon this place, and that he had a very good possibility to escape.

Well, those were definitely things to be thankful for.

Even as anger, simmered underneath his mind, as he remembered the face of Arla Rodarch , and the emotions from that encounter, fueled him, as he continued to trudge forward.

He might have called the Tsis'Kaar embedded and trenched on this planet to assist him, however having them revealed would do little good for his position, and having them see him in this state...

...Well the purges were over, and he certainly did not wish to begin them again for those that would see weakness and smell blood in the water.

He might have reached out to Lady Monroe, but to ask her for aid after this...

To ask her for aid at all.

It was intolerable.

It would be some other day that he would meet with Mand'alor the Rekindler then... well meet in... perhaps not cordial, but not as active combatants.

No, he was alone, he had awaited the sun to crest the horizon as darkness fell, and now he was on the move, through the darkness, through the alleyways, he would traverse this ruined carcass of a city, and escape back to the Lochris, escape this broken world, recover, and then plan his next move.

If that was to put this evidently failed partnership to bed, to find some other way to remove Kaine, was an open question.

And that was when he heard her voice.

His pain had made him blind to both sight and sense, as red eyes traversed the great distance, as a bead of sweat trailed his brow, and he met the eyes of the beautiful woman that he had met so long ago on Archais.

The one he had been certain he would never see again.

The one... who it had been such a great surprise to sense upon Moridinae's orbit.

Why was she here?

He did not draw his lightsabre, he did not prepare for combat, did not force the Force to his will as he prepared to survive.

Instead, he could only look at her.

Only offer a cocky smile, that he in no way felt, as he winced, forcing himself upright, leaning against a wall, and looked, stared.

"Elise..."

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

He looked pitiful.

He was obviously wounded, holding his side as he winced and limped painfully through the streets. His smirk was forced, and his attempt at leaning against the wall revealed how poorly in shape he was. She hated seeing him like this, despite him being the enemy. She even felt a burning anger towards whoever did this to him... and then towards herself. How could she fault a vod for protecting their home? Against the Sith? In fact, she should be protecting her home. Drawing her weapons, finishing off the Sith spy who somehow wandered Keldabe's streets undetected. But she could not. How could she? When she knew this man for who he was?

And so, she proved her treacherous ways once more.

She approached him, cloak flowing in the wind. Her white and red beskar'gam were coated in sand and dust as she walked up to him and reached out. Her crushgaunts protected them from her uncontrollable psychometry as she pulled his robes back, looking at his wounds. She dropped her buy'ce, letting it roll on the ground, as she shook her head. A somber, soft expression crossed her face as she bent down and leaned close, observing the damage. A sad but amused smile crossed her lips.

"We always meet with me tending your wounds, don't we?"

The affection was clear in her tone, even if she didn't mean for it to be. For all intents and purposes, he was the enemy. But she could not, would not, harm a hair on his head. She stood up, sighing, and looked him in the eyes. With an expression that said "you're not fighting me on this," she spoke.

"I can patch that up. But my medical kit is in my dorm."

With one hand, she applied some pain killing healing, briefly, to the wound. She would not heal it though, as the bullet shrapnels needed properly removed. Instead, she stopped healing after that second and reached for her cloak. She shredded the corner, pulling some cloth off and wrapping it around the wound, applying a makeshift tourniquet. She at least would prevent further blood loss until they got there.

As she wrapped the wound, she explained, "The moment we're getting there, I'm removing the tourniquet. Sorry, my cloak is filthy but it's all I've got on me. I'll actually clean your wound and heal it when we get there."

The entire time, her movements were nothing but soft and gentle, if not firm when needed. She had no intentions of harming him, despite everything. Even when it branded her a traitor, she would not fight him. After all, she... well... if Malum were to look really close, he'd see that despite how cold Mandalore was at night, she was slightly blushing.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was a creeping fear, a worry, a concern, as she approached him, yet he did nothing but stare. Stare as he swallowed his emotions, it had been great fortune that they had met on Archais, but as with most things in his life, no matter what he felt in that moment for her, driven by the uncertainty and despair of what would come in upcoming days, he had to throw it aside.

Realise, what he imagined idly, and idealistically on those starry nights upon Archais, simply was not possible.

Yet what was rational, and what was emotional, was so fairly often far, far, apart.

He thought about her much.

Much more than he should have. From the prelude to Fiviune to the aftermath, she was in his thoughts often.

He knew she should not be.

He knew she should have forgotten her.

But he could not.

Would not.

He would move on from her in time, he told himself, he knew desires, emotions, no matter what, would fade with time. He knew he would never see her again, so he knew, he would be forced to move on from her, perhaps trying again with Adeline, or turning as he always seemed to, to Ansisa.

But then he had felt her presence upon the orbit of Moridinae.

All those emotions, those feelings, those desires that he had buried deep down within him had revealed itself, as he faced the woman that had undone him so easily.

It was the smallest mercies, that he had not exactly faced her.

That mercy was gone now, she was here, right in front of him.

And everything flowed straight to a rapidly beating heart, and a very confused mind.

Even more, as she finally reached him, and he blushed a storm, looking at anywhere but her, as she rolled his robes, and began tending to his wounds, tensing, and hissing, at just the right moments, as she tended to them, as the master healer she was.

The one he had fallen for so long ago on Archais.

Why had the Force brought them together again?

"Maybe I should get injured more often," He japed, a weak smile plastered on his face, as he desperately held on for dear life against the wall, red eyes meeting red, as she stood up, as short as ever. He meant it to be funny, but it cut straight to the heart of the issue hadn't it.

It had been a long time since they had seen each other.

Much had changed.

Yet as he heard her voice, the tone.

Much had also stayed the same.

"You need not be so concerned about me... Elise..." Even now, that name seemed odd to say, even as it was the name that had haunted his thoughts these last few months, it was hard to forget it was the very same name as his elder sisters, "My ship is not too far, I will be on my way, the Moridin-" He stopped, his instincts failing him, "...the Mandalorians will be none the wiser."

But he did not protest, as she used her Force Healing on his legs, as she tore off her cloak to use as a makeshift bandage.

It was a simple enough mental note to remind to leave enough credits for her to buy another, far superior to the ratty, dirty thing she was currently wearing.

He paused, as he found her blushing cheeks, as pink, as red, as he was. Did she possibly...

No.

There was no point wondering about that.

He stepped forth from the wall, intending to move around her, she would protest, but whether she followed him or not, he would escape this world.

However, did not account for one thing.

How truly weak his legs were.

It was one step, and he was falling forward, eyes wide, as he fell atop Elise.

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

No! Don't leave me!

Elise was shocked by her own thoughts, as Malum stated that he would be on his way. She didn't want him flying away again, into the darkness of Sith territory, leaving her again. It had been her who drove him off from Archais, but she had not wanted to. For the betrayal of finding out his nature as a Sith, and for her ordering he leave her homeworld, she had never stopped... caring... about him.

That much was obvious, when his well being tormented her so when he infiltrated the old Destroyer above this planet.

She winced her expression away as she tended to him, tears flooding her eyes. She was so confused! Her feelings concerning Malum were unlike anything she felt for anyone else ever. How could she possibly admit it though, when they were supposed to be enemies?

Supposed...

Perhaps, Elise was not so confused. Perhaps, she knew exactly how things were between them. Perhaps, she was simply in denial, for reality broke her heart.

When Malum moved to force himself away from her, Elise looked up in shock. Her concern for his wounds, combined with her desire for him, made her jump in front of him. She extended her hands to grab his shoulders, to stop him, when his own legs buckled from the wounds. And in an instant, Elise's back thudded against the ground.

"Umph!"

She realized instantly what was happening, and her face turned deep red. This was not the first time Malum accidentally found himself on top of Elise, and it earned the same reaction. Elise's embarrassment over the predicament, combined with her body and heart begging for his increased closeness. Her legs were on each side of Malum's body, as Malum struggled against her chestplate. Her hands held his arms still. Unlike her, he wore no armor. Only his soft, thin clothes. Her gauntlet covered hands felt his muscular, shaking arms the best they could. Her beskar'gam kept her from anything else. But, as Elise looked down at his long, black hair, she could not help the amused expression on her face. With a mixture of sorrow and snarkiness, she spoke.

"You can't keep away from me, can't you?"

She frowned, realizing that the movements likely increased his blood loss. She lifted a hand from his arm, touching his head.

"Sorry, Malum, you're not going to make it back like this. You're coming with me."

Was she doing this because she truly thought it was the only option for his survival? Or was she doing this because...

She sighed, pushing herself to her feet as she crouched. She swept the flustered Malum in her arms, holding him like a bride, as she rose to a standing position. Despite her thin and small appearance, she was a fully trained Mandalorian warrior. She was surprisingly strong for her size, allowing her to hold Malum in her arms. Elise herself was quite flustered by this, but she had to focus on getting him to her dorm safely. As she blushed wildly, looking anywhere but his face, she announced her plan.

"I'm cloaking us. Try not to move too much, if you break physical contact it'll ruin my transfer."

She closed her eyes, using a combination of Force Cloak and Force Stealth on the both of them combined. As they faded into the shadows, Elise started to walk him towards her dormitory.

Elise checked to make sure that they had not been followed one more time. She glanced outside the door, cloaking devices and powers still up, before closing and locking it behind her a final time. She uncloaked, letting herself become visible to the sole person in her dorm once more. She checked the lock out of paranoia before turning around, facing the young Sith sitting on her cot. Elise's dorm was in terrible shape. It was a small, plain room with metal grey walls and a metal floor. Numerous boxes and crates were laid across the room, holding possessions and equipment that were either yet to be unpacked or used for sloppy storage. In one corner of the room, gardening gloves and an apron stunk from outdoor work, yet to be washed. Elise blushed in embarrassment as she rubbed the back of her neck and chuckled nervously.

"Sorry it's such a mess! I haven't had time to organize things."

Or rather, she did not take the time to organize things. She was too busy obsessing over her work.

She pulled her crushgaunts off, her bare hands visibly blistered from her life of hard labor. She tossed the gauntlets onto the nearest crate and walked towards a seemingly random crate. As she did so, she reached behind her and loosened her breastplate. She pulled the beskar plate off, laying it against the wall, as she finally breathed more easily. As she heaved in air, however, she was forgetting how tight her armorweave was on her. She pulled oppe the crate, pulling out her medical kit. She walked towards Malum, opening the large case. She set it on the cot next to Malum, pulling his cloak off him and adjusting his clothes to properly work with his wounds. She knelt at the side of the cot, pulling medical gloves on her hands. She pulled a tray out and placed it on the cot, also taking some tweezers out and leaning in, applying razor sharp focus on the task ahead of her.

"This'll hurt at times. Please don't move, it'll potentially make your injuries worse."

She reached with the tweezers, into his wounds. The red, irritated flesh was visibly disturbed by the dirt and sand of Mandalore's climate. But even worse were the shining metallic pieces in the wounds. With the precision of a medical droid, she gently gripped the first slug round and pulled gracefully. The tweezers emerged from the wound, and she lowered it to the tray. Tap! The round plopped into the tin as Elise already started on the second one.

Only after she started on it did it actually hit her, the more or less intimate position they were in. Her cheeks flushed red once more, as she fought the temptation to sneak peaks at his exposure. But her care for his well being overrode the attraction, and she never once broke focus as she delicately pulled shrapnels from his open wounds. Tap! Tap! Tap! The slug rounds plopped into the tray. As she focused on the task at hand, she remained deathly silent. She was so engrossed in her operation, she was unable to even distract him with conversation, for it would distract herself. The pink had left her face, as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. She continued on, plopping more rounds into the bin. She tried to make it as painless as she could, but safety came first and foremost. It was the best she could do, for the man who had stolen her heart...

Darth Malum of House Marr