Private Medbay Hijinks

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

After the Bacta tanks, Azzie was confined to bed rest.
Good luck with that.

Even before she was awake, Aadihr could tell she was restless. The Miraluka Jedi Knight was trying to focus his thoughts into a Holocron, a sort of journal of his thoughts and planning for the education of both Aris Noble and Brander .

He barely registered the first time the Twi'lek Nurse dropped by with breakfast for Azzie. What surprised him was when she returned with a second tray for Aadihr - evidently waiting by another's bedside was common enough that the service corp has didn't even have to ask.

It interrupted his focus, but he offered the nurse a soft smile as she left once more.

Soon Azzie would be awake, and any hope of quiet time to focus his thoughts would end. Not that he minded.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Post-Bacta Clothing | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie woke with a sharp gasp, thrashing weakly against invisible restraints. Her heart hammered a frantic beat against her ribs, her breath coming in shallow, panicked gulps. Her body felt heavier than it should, like gravity had decided to make her a target. She blinked, trying to clear the fog, but all it did was thicken. It felt like she was drowning in it, pulling her under until her chest ached with the effort of each breath. For one long, agonizing moment, she didn't know where she was, only that she had to get away.

The room was too still, too quiet. It was like the air was holding its breath, waiting for her to remember. She clenched her fists, her back screaming in protest. A low groan slipped from her lips as she tried to shift, feeling the dull pressure where the new tattoo had been printed across her lower back. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to focus, but it was like swimming through fog.

"Kriff," she whispered hoarsely, barely able to hear herself. Irrational panic spiked again. Where are the cameras? Where are they watching from?

Azzie turned her head jerkily, scanning the walls, the ceiling, and any corners where hidden eyes might lurk. Her muscles refused to cooperate, trembling with even that small motion. There were no cameras she could see. No glint of lenses, no mechanical hum. Still, she couldn't trust that. They hide them. Always. How else could Darth Carnifex have gotten all of that footage?

It was only when she caught the edge of a presence—a brilliant, familiar glow—that she froze. Her mind wasn't reliable lately; she knew that. But there it was again, that unwavering brightness, steady in a way such few things in her world had been for weeks now. Sitting nearby, a tray of untouched food on the table beside him, head bowed slightly in meditation or deep thought, was Aadihr.

Azzie stared, her heart thudding painfully against her chest. She blinked several times, trying to clear the haze from her mind, half-expecting him to vanish like so many other mirages had. But he didn't.

She hesitated, with no idea what to say. Unsure whether to disturb him. He was there, but had he noticed her waking up?

"This is new. Usually when I wake up after a disaster, there's more yelling and less... breakfast." Her lips twitched into a half-smirk as she pushed through the haze. Her voice came out rough, raw, it was still her. Dripping with a dry sarcasm.

Even with the faint tremor in her hand, she tried to sit up again, this time more slowly, testing the limits of her strength. Aadihr's presence was like a rock in the storm, but it didn't stop the storm from raging inside her chest. She bit back the tears that threatened, instead focusing on her back. The skin there had a lingering feeling like it was still branded, but the fire from before had faded. It didn't burn so much anymore, just a dull ache like an old wound that had been reopened.

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The tray wobbled slightly in his hand as he sat down beside her, bumping the corner of the bed with his knee in a dramatic thud.
He winced.
"Smooth as ever. In my defence, they let me out unsupervised."

With mock ceremony, he set the breakfast tray on the side table.
"Behold. Toast. And whatever this orange paste is — I think it’s legally fruit."

He tilted his head in her direction, the ever-present blindfold hiding the subtle twitch of a smirk.
"You know, some people wake up and ask deep philosophical questions. Instead, you get breakfast"

He leaned back in the chair, sighing theatrically.
"Medbay hijinks™ aside, it’s good to hear your voice again. It was starting to get quiet in here. Too quiet. Like ‘I might have to talk to myself’ quiet."

Then, more softly, more real beneath the joking:
"No rush. I’m not going anywhere."

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Post-Bacta Clothing | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie blinked slowly, trying to coax the world into focus. Everything still felt a little off, like her brain was two steps behind her eyes and her body had forgotten how to be made of muscle instead of mush. The tray clattering against the bed frame helped, though. A jarring yet comforting reminder that she wasn't in a Sith cell anymore. Her lip twitched upward, and she glanced sideways, or rather, tilted her head slightly in his direction.

He wasn't wrong. His entrance had all the grace of a newborn Bantha, but it was... him. "Maybe I should get you a seeing-eye droid or something. I don't think that staff is doing its job." She attempted to joke, hoping it landed as well out loud as it had in her head.

Azzie squinted at the food, eyeing the questionable orange substance. "Legally fruit? What... does that even mean?" She couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped. It was weak, but it was something. The irony wasn't lost on her in the slightest. "Damn, I'd have thought if they were going to leave me toast and... possibly fruit, they might be gracious enough to provide me the pill that actually lets me digest it without dealing with the fallout."

It was easier to keep up the sass than acknowledge the weight in his voice. That quiet I'm not going anywhere settled against her like a blanket. Warm, grounding, and just a little terrifying in a good way that made the tightness in her chest shift to something more like a flutter. So instead, she let out a soft, tired snort and closed her eyes again. "You might want to be careful about talking to yourself if you're not exactly sure about what you'll say back."

So much for nothing deep and philosophical.

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He gave a mock gasp, clutching his chest like she'd wounded him.

"A seeing-eye droid? Wow. How dare! This staff and I have been through a lot together. It has a name, you know, and you've never even asked."
He paused - just long enough before she might actually think he's upset.

"...It's Stick. I've been told I'm very creative."

He gestured vaguely at the tray, nearly knocking over the cup of water in the process. "And I stand by my assessment. That orange paste is only classified as fruit because some bureaucrat in the Core signed a waiver after losing a bet. Probably blindfolded."

Then, after her line about the digestion pill, he leaned in with a faux-serious expression.
"Okay, one — how dare they forget the anti-revenge-toast pill. And two — if your guts declare war, I’m invoking the Jedi Right of Noncombatancy. You’ll have to settle things without me."

But even with the jokes, the shift in her voice didn’t escape him. The way she settled back, that flutter-soft pause. So instead of pushing further, he leaned back in his chair, letting a breath go.

"Talking to myself’s the least of my problems. Half the time I don’t like what I hear. The other half I suspect it's just Stick giving me sass."

He let the silence linger for a beat, a gentle truce between humor and everything else unsaid. Then, softer:

"...Glad you’re brack, Azzie."

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Post-Bacta Clothing | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie let the silence stretch. For a while, her brain just couldn't think of the words to say, and the way he said her name hit something inside her. Not like a punch. Not a burn. More like a breath. A quiet, steadying one.

She shifted in the bed, wincing from the stiffness in her muscles. "Your Jedi Right of Noncombatancy is revoked, by the way," she muttered, glancing toward him with mock sternness. "If my guts go nuclear, you're collateral damage by extension." Her tone couldn't hold the edge. Not really, shifting pretty quickly to playfulness.

"Glad you're back, Azzie."

The words hit her harder than she expected, and she found herself suddenly unable to meet his gaze. That look he'd given her—underneath all the banter, the goofy theatrics—was like a lifeline in hyperspace turbulence. Azzie let her head tip back against the stiff pillow, her horns thudding softly against the plastifoam. She didn't need to look too long or examine too much into his aura to see the weariness in his expression, the way he leaned back in his chair like he was letting the tension of the moment settle into his bones, just like she was.

"So, I heard Cinnamon and Sugar helped Councilor Corazona von Ascania save your ass. Something about an atomic wedgie and tied shoelaces." She said with a rasped voice, finally breaking the silence again to turn the discussion to something else. She couldn't quite stifle the laugh thinking about the image. "Didn't know Cinnamon had it in her, as easily startled as she normally is. I would have killed to be there and see the look on those soldiers' faces, though."

There was still so much ahead. For now, though, all she could do was hold onto the little moments—the small, quiet exchanges that felt like normal and gave her something to pour her attention into rather than the crushing almost suffocating feeling the medical room could give her if she laid there for too long.

"...I missed you."

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He tilted his head toward her at the “seeing-eye droid” comment, lips twitching upward.

"Hey, Stick takes offense to that. He’s very sensitive. You’d be surprised how hard it is to find a reliable piece of wood with emotional depth."

But as her laughter came — even small, even tired — he softened. The real kind of smile.
The one that wasn’t armor.

He leaned back just a little, arms folded, head turned slightly in her direction as she relaxed again, eyes closed.

"So, you’re saying if I talk to myself and answer wrong, I’m stuck arguing with Stick until one of us cries?" He exhaled, amused. "Honestly, that’s not even the weirdest argument I’ve had this week."

A beat passed. The quiet settled in around them.

And then—an idea bloomed. He turned slightly, contemplative, then slowly rose to his feet, fingers adjusting the edge of his blindfold as if bracing himself for mischief.

"Hey... hold that thought for, say, ten minutes. Maybe twelve. Don’t ask why."

He began to backpedal toward the exit, one foot slightly bumping the end of the cot. He recovered, turned it into a half-bow like it was part of the performance.

"Trust me just a little longer, Varek. I’ve got... a thing. It’ll be worth it."

With that, he slipped out of the room — and sometime later, a small floating droid would hum its way inside, holding a simple note suspended by a tiny holoprojection:

Spoiler: Note

A Note Appears...

---

Feeling better is grounds for mischief.
Come meet me —
~Room of a Thousand Fountains~
(you’ll know it by the smell of overprepared breakfast and last-minute courage.)

---

- A

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

"Hang on, you can't just say something like that and walk off—!" Too late, Aadihr was already gone. A confusion and curiosity mixed through her eyes and outward into her expression that she couldn't hide even if she wanted to. Her head flopped back onto the pillow, her mind wandering with the dozens of questions that came through. At least until the droid entered the room.

Azzie squinted at the message, lips twitching into something halfway between amusement and bewilderment. The message was cryptic, yet oddly charming.

Her gaze shifted to her prosthetic arm, currently detached and leaning against the bed. She would just have to make do with only one arm right now. Fortunately for her, she was ambidextrous—a small mercy. Getting dressed with one arm, though, was awkward at the best of times. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, as she maneuvered fabric with one hand (which was something she'd had to do before on a few occasions). The real insult was how loose everything had gotten. Long-term effects of malnutrition were a hell of a thief.

Azzie paused in front of the mirror long enough to raise an eyebrow at her reflection. Pale. Gaunt. Spikes still as fierce as ever, though. Small victories, focus on those. Soon, she grabbed the cane leaning up against the wall to pull herself forward. Time to be sneaky.

Which, as it turned out, was not easy when you limped like a drunk rancor.

The halls were quiet, mostly. A few nurses paced with datapads and polite smiles, and the occasional Jedi passed by with the usual stiff sense of purpose. Azzie flattened against the wall behind a tall potted plant—barely tall enough to cover her—and held her breath while two young padawans strolled past, debating lightsaber stances. Once they were gone, she exhaled and crept forward again. As she approached the entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, she paused, taking a moment to steady her breath before heading inside.

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Objective: Try to tell her how I feel
Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The Room of a Thousand Fountains lived up to its name — soft rushing streams converged with cascading waters that threaded through the gardens, glinting beneath arching trees and moss-draped stone.
Aadihr had chosen a spot sheltered by a curved willow-like tree, whose pale silver fronds swayed faintly with the airflow of the fountains. The light filtering through them danced on the surface of the pool nearby, casting dappled reflections over the soft blue blanket he’d definitely overthought.

The picnic was... Something. A mix of delivery containers and fresh market finds stacked neatly beside a folded napkin that didn’t quite match anything else. There was nerf jerky, some over-sauced noodles, an awkwardly-wrapped wedge of soft cheese with crackers that had already gone slightly stale, and two small flasks — one of which read “Probably Not Poison” in basic written in sharp, deliberate penmanship - not Aadihr's

And waiting by all of it, seated cross-legged on the edge of the blanket with his hand resting lightly on a tin of caf, was Aadihr. When he heard the soft hitch in her gait, the slight limp accompanied by the shift of a cane, he turned slightly, not rising yet — just facing her.

"I think I should open by admitting this was Braze 's idea."

His tone was sheepish. He gestured toward the spread like a magician revealing his final trick — minus the confidence.

"Well — the part about trying to ‘make myself available without speaking entirely in metaphor.’ The picnic was mine. So if anything’s too much, blame me, not Braze."

He gave her a soft smile, blindfolded but sincere, and then went quiet. His jaw moved, once, like he had something else to say and wasn’t sure how to shape it.

Eventually, he did.

"I… haven’t been easy to talk to, I think. But I want to try. To try to be... present. Open. But something always pulls me just short of it."

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the napkin now — folding and refolding the same corner. The weight of what he didn’t say clung to the air between them.
He wasn’t lying. He just couldn’t name it yet.

"It’s not because I don’t trust you. Or care. It’s… because I do. Care about you, I mean. And trust, it's just.. that makes it harder. There’s this part of me that still expects people to leave if I give them the full truth. Not because they’re cruel. Just because... It's what I would do if I were them."

He let the words settle. Let her breathe. Let himself breathe.

A quiet beat passed before he tried again — gentler, steadier:

"I want to be here for you, Azzie. Not just now, in the aftermath of everything — but consistently. Not just when you need someone, but even when you don’t. I want to be someone you can rely on."

A pause.

"It might take time for me to say everything. To be anything. I don't know if I can ever be… unafraid of people. But I can try. Try to stop running away before they have a reason to leave."

Finally, he looked up — not with his eyes, but with the full focus of his being, his presence leaning toward hers.

"And if you’re willing to wait for me in the quiet places between the chaos… I’ll try to meet you there. As often as I can."
His larynx betrayed him, quivering a slight warble on the last word, which he swallowed down.

Aadihr remained still, some part of him expecting her to walk away despite every rational thought he had. He didn’t push. The invitation was there — like the picnic, a little awkward, a little too much, but made with the best of intentions.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie stood at the edge of the blanket, the soft rush of water from the fountains providing a tranquil backdrop. Her gaze swept over the scene before her: a picnic spread that was both endearing and slightly chaotic. A soft chuckle escaped, followed by a quick cough, the sound mingling with the gentle murmurs of the surrounding fountains. Her gaze shifted to Aadihr, who sat cross-legged.

She stepped forward, her cane tapping lightly against the stone path, and settled onto the blanket beside him, having to use his shoulder to steady herself. The soft rustle of the willow-like tree's fronds above them created a canopy of dappled light, casting intricate patterns on the ground. The mismatched containers, the slightly stale crackers, and the flask labeled 'Probably Not Poison' all told a story of endearing effort. To her, it didn't have to be perfect. It just needed honesty.

"I have been saved from 'legally fruit,' thank the stars!" Azzie joked, reaching for a piece of nerf jerky, tearing off a small bite. She sat in comfortable silence for a while to let everything he said settle, the sounds of the fountains providing a soothing backdrop. Eventually, she turned her attention back to him with her amethyst eyes locked to the blindfold she'd given him.

"That's the thing, Aadihr. It's not always about me—" She cut herself off for a moment, the irony of her statement not necessarily being lost on her given everything that still weighed on her and her physical state. "Sometimes it's okay to stop playing eternal martyr or whatever with your own struggles and actually take up space with them."

Azzie knew that was easier said than done. Even she struggled to ask for help sometimes, depending on the situation. At the same time, despite how long they had been friends, she wasn't expecting him to just dive right into the deep end, especially when she wasn't sure as to how much she could handle right now. She wanted to make sure he had a space to move through how he needed to, even if it drove her a little mad. "I just want to be talked to, to know more... maybe it's stupid, maybe I'm the one who's strange, but I just... I... oh, kriff it—"

In the end, she hoped she didn't cross over any boundaries as she made the split-second decision to just close the space between them. She had to lean her one working arm into the ground to balance herself, her muscles struggling under the effort, but she didn't give herself time to second-guess herself, pressing her lips to his. It wasn't perfect, but it was real.

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

She was moving before he even finished his thought.

At first, his breath caught — more instinct than understanding. Something in her aura, intent he wasn't able to decipher in time. He felt her weight shift, the air between them stir, and then—

She leaned in, and for one crystalline second he froze, because every part of him that expected to be hurt had no script for this.

No blueprint.

No warning.
Soft.
Real.
Impossible.

Her lips found his with unsteady resolve, and the world around him shrank to just the two of them.

The kiss wasn’t forceful, It wasn’t precise,
but it was warm and trembling and real in a way that sent a jolt through him so visceral he didn't realize what was happening until he was already pressing his lips back into hers, his head tilting to match hers. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission so much as offer surrender.

The shape of her mouth was warmth and pressure and soft and sunlight.
Not just touch — presence — the press of her against him, hesitant but firm and unflinching.

His heart was in his throat.
His thoughts scattered like leaves.
And inside him, something cracked — not painfully, but like light getting in through the blinds of a window.

He kissed her back.
Gently.
Like a promise he wasn’t sure he had the right to make — but wanted to anyway.
His hand found her jaw, fingers curling against her skin like she might vanish if he wasn’t careful.
He could feel her effort — how much it cost her, physically, to reach him.

He wouldn’t pull away.

Not this time.

Not ever, if she didn’t ask him to.

The kiss lingered — a breath shared, the silence of fountains folding around them like music.
And then, eventually, it broke. Not in rejection, just in need — to breathe, to look at her, even through the blindfold she had given him, to see the purple aura glow so close him.

His forehead remained gently pressed against hers. His chest heaved quietly. He couldn’t see her expression — but Force, he could feel it.
He could feel her.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to be wanted,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“Not like this. Not by you.”

Another breathe.

"Stars above am I glad that I am."

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie's heart was still trying to remember how to beat properly. The kiss still lingered on her lips like a memory not yet ready to fade. Everything about this moment was raw and uncharted—and yet, it felt as though it had been inevitable, stretching back across the year of their friendship. Her mind felt like it had short-circuited in the wake of everything, and she leaned back slightly, pulling away just enough to meet his breathless gaze. She couldn't see all of the expression, of course, not with the blindfold still in place.

The rawness of his words hit her harder than she expected. She could feel his thoughts radiating through the Force, the weight of his vulnerability pressing against her own heart.

"You are wanted." Her voice was a little rougher than she intended, her eyes not leaving the soft fabric of his blindfold. "I was just stupid, oblivious... and scared..." She wished she knew how to explain it to him the way she wanted to, how terrified she'd been because of everything that she'd been through after she'd been pulled from stasis.

"Back there, in that cell... there were very few things I could hold onto. You were one of them. I—" Azzie hadn't realized she was crying until her voice broke, and the feeling of tears on her cheeks finally registered. Her words brought memories to her mind that she'd tried to avoid. "I don't think... I would have made it so long without that."

Her arm couldn't keep holding her body upright, having to shift herself so when it gave out, she would be caught against his chest instead of faceplanting into the ground. "I... I don't know how to explain it very well, but..." She paused, realizing quickly it was her turn to fear he would turn and run. Her eyes locked onto the blanket, her hand rising to grasp the talisman around her neck for strength. "I'm some sort of catalyst for Force bonds? Not just the typical kind, like the kind that Master Valery Noble and Kahlil Noble have. I don't know how or why, but it just sort of happens. So, if you wanted to walk away, I wouldn't blame you."

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He felt her breath before he heard her words.
Rough, uneven — as if she’d been holding something in for too long, and letting it out now took more strength than anything else had.
And then came her voice.
Raw. Breaking.

"You are wanted."

He didn’t realize how tightly he’d been holding himself together until that moment, until her voice cracked like a faultline — until the weight she carried bled into the air between them like mist rising from a broken vessel.

And then she leaned.
Not for another kiss.
Just because she was tired. Because she’d given all she had just to reach him — emotionally, physically, Force and all, and even her body had hit its limit.

Her shoulder slipped, and instinct moved before fear could.
He caught her.
Gently.
Deliberately.
His arms circled around her, one supporting her back, the other curling across her waist and drawing her to him like the most precious thing in the galaxy — not fragile, but sacred.

Her head rested against his chest now. He felt the damp heat of her tears soak faintly through the fabric of his robe. His heart pounded beneath her ear — not out of panic, but something deeper.
Something more terrifying: relief.

She was here.
She had chosen him.
And Force help him, he didn’t want to let go.

When she grasped the talisman around her neck and spoke of Force bonds — of catalysts and warnings and walking away — he felt her fear. He didn’t need to hear it in her voice. He felt it through her body, the way she tensed, the way her breath hitched.
She was afraid he’d flinch. That he’d back away. That the intimacy she’d offered had pushed too far, too fast.

And he almost did.

Not because he wanted to.

But because every instinct in him still told him he wasn't allowed to have this.

But...

"You are wanted."

Her words echoed again in his mind like a lighthouse call through fog.

He leaned his head down slowly, brushing the curve of his temple to the crown of her hair.
Soft, steady.

His voice was quiet, low in her ear.

“I don’t want to walk away.”

He tightened his arms around her just a little, grounding her. Grounding himself.

"You’re not strange. And you don’t need to be afraid of scaring me off.”

His breath hung up on the next thought, but he said it anyway, softly.

“If there's something between us, deeper than the Force normally makes, I think… maybe I've already felt it. Not clearly. Not consciously. But sometimes… when I think of you, I feel steadier. Like I’m not just surviving for the sake of it. Like something in the galaxy sees me, when you do.”

He paused. The words hung like threads between them. His hand, the one across her back, slowly lifted, brushing fingertips through her hair — careful not to disturb her.

"No running. No disappearing. I’m here.”

Another beat. Just the sound of fountains. Her breathing. His heartbeat.

“We can figure the rest out together.”

He didn’t need to say you’re not alone.
Not now.
Not when he was holding her like this.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie didn't move. Couldn't move. The words sank into her like gentle rain over cracked soil, soaking through every fracture she'd tried to hide with sarcastic quips and reckless bravado. Her body, coiled tight like a spring waiting for the shoe to drop, just… let go. Muscles she hadn't realized were tense softened, and her breathing finally settled into a slower rhythm, syncing with the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. He wasn't running.

Her mind flicked back to the months in that cell, the darkness and cold, the endless silence except for the echoes of doubt and pain. With him, she could imagine more than survival. Maybe… maybe she could live. The idea was terrifying, but it was also exhilarating.

"You feel it too, then... I really don't know how it happened this time, so I'm sorry."

Azzie clutched the talisman tighter, fingers curling around the metal until the edges pressed into her calloused palm. It wasn't pain, just a reminder she was here. That this was real, and she hadn't imagined all of this. Like she wasn't just another stray—broken—firebrand trying too hard.

Aadihr's hand brushed through her hair again, and her eyes fluttered shut, tears still clinging to the edges of her lashes. Yet, a small chime of laughter, soft as a small bell, escaped her lips. Thoughts had drifted to how much had happened to even lead to the moment they were at. So much of it, if it had been any different, they may not have crossed paths. Like that night on Dantooine, at the Jedi conference. If she hadn't taken that wrong turn and gotten completely turned around in the endless corridors, she never would have ended up in the ballroom.

"I don't feel all that bad about spilling wine on your suit at this point... even if it was technically your own fault." She joked, her violet eyes drifting closed as he pressed his head against hers. All those tiny, ridiculous pieces. If even one had been missing… there might have been no friendship. No crazy antics or quiet moments. No long nights of missions on some uncharted world and guarded conversations. No this.

There was silence again. But it was soft like the glow of a small campfire. Silence was something that tended to drive Azzie mad, but not with him. Her fingers let go of the talisman and, instead, found the edge of his sleeve, moving to wrap around his chest. She held onto it gently—not because she needed support, but because she wanted it. They could figure the rest out later. Right now, she just let herself rest in the truth of what they'd found.

So, she shifted just enough to meet his face, searching beneath the blindfold in her mind, and pressed forward to kiss him again. Part of her just needed to make sure the first time wasn't just a fluke, or, Force help her, a figment of her damaged mind.

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The second kiss was quieter — not hesitant this time, but steady. A question already half-answered, followed now by an exhale.

She leaned in, and he met her halfway.
No panic nor recoil. Just... presence.
For once, he didn’t think.
He didn’t weigh it.

His hand slid gently from her hair to the side of her face, fingers curling along the line of her jaw, brushing the softest trail beneath her ear.

So this is what it's like, he thought.
To be wanted, and know it. To want and not fear it.

Her lips were warm — not trembling like before, but coaxing, inviting.
His breath caught as she pressed deeper into him, and without quite realizing it, he responded in kind — not just tenderness now, but need edging through. Months of restraint giving way. His other arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, breath hitching through his nose.

His heartbeat climbed. The warmth of her weight against him, the curl of her fingers at his chest, the hitch in her own breath — it was too easy to fall into. Stars help him, he was falling fast.

Then—

A flicker.
In the Force. In his ears.

Bootsteps. Stone. Someone walking nearby.

Aadihr froze.

His hand, still half in her hair, tensed almost to push her away, but instead anchored himself.

His lips parted from hers in a soft gasp, his forehead resting briefly against hers like an apology made of breath alone. He didn’t speak. Just held the silence between them like glass.

The passerby’s footsteps echoed closer — and then faded, moving on. Just a temple groundskeeper, from the sound of it. Unaware. Uninterested.

Aadihr exhaled once the moment passed.

And then—

He laughed. Just… a soft, stunned huff of sound from deep in his chest.

It caught even him off guard.

He pressed his face into her hair, barely suppressing the second laugh that tried to follow, his shoulders shaking once before he regained control.

“Force save me,” he murmured, "we're just as bad as the teenagers of the temple."

Spoke softlt, mouthed into the quiet between them.

He didn’t let go. Not fully.
His hold shifted only slightly — no longer a brace against emotion, but an embrace given freely.

The silence returned, accompanied by the pounding of his heart. This time it was electric — warm, shared, and full of every word neither of them needed to say.
Not yet.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie felt the low hum of Aadihr's laugh against her skin, felt it more than heard it. His breath, his arms, the curve of his body. Everything seemed to melt and refold around her in that moment, a quiet weaving of presence and gravity. The world was still but alive, every heartbeat an echo of hers, every inhalation a thread knitting them tighter.

He called them foolish, compared them to temple teenagers, and she felt the ghost of a grin tug at her lips. There was something oddly comforting in the way he said it—like a shared secret, an inside joke only they were allowed to understand. It loosened something in her chest she hadn't realized was clenched tight.

Frick, I think I'm in too deep.

Azzie stayed there for a moment longer, her cheek against his shoulder, absorbing the warmth of his laugh as if it might imprint itself into her skin. The realization struck her like a shift in the Force, subtle but unshakable: she wanted this. She wanted him more than anything, wanted this moment. It wasn't just a fleeting thing, a stolen kiss on temple grounds. It was something she hadn't let herself believe was something she could have. Yet here it was, wrapped in the press of his arms and the quiet of his voice.

His forehead had pressed into her hair again, his breath ruffling the strands near her temple. Hopefully, her horns weren't much of a problem for him. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of him. Floral spice and the faintest hint of soap. Her hand, still resting lightly against his chest, curled slightly, drawing her closer into the circle of his arms.

I could stay here forever. When the footsteps faded completely, leaving only the hush of stone and the faint stir of air through the temple gardens, she finally spoke.

"I wouldn't say that exactly. Teens around here don't generally know what they're doing yet. I like to think I have a bit of experience by now." She teased, the remaining hand moving to the back of his head and tugging at the knot of the blindfold until it loosened enough to drift off of his face. Her bright violet eyes locked with the space where Aadihr's eyes would have been. Maybe it was off-putting to others, but she found no such thing there in the silence. Only the beauty that was who he was—the imperfections in newly acquired, barely visible scarring, the way his face twitched with his emotions and matched the spikes in his aura. Though she knew he'd never be able to physically see her in the same way others could, he had his own way, and it was so much more than enough.

"You know, there's always my ship that we can go to. It's pretty big and gets kind of lonely when it's just me and Cinnamon."

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Gravity

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He felt the blindfold slip—slow, deliberate. A breath caught in his throat. The night air touched his scars, the soft fabric of her will falling away like hesitation unspoken.

No one had ever done that.

She didn't ask permission. She didn’t need to, it wasn't a violation. It was trust… returned.

Her voice was low, teasing. Confident. And she was close—he could feel the warmth of her through her words alone, each syllable stirring against his skin like an echo.

"You know, there's always my ship..."

He didn’t respond right away. Everything about his posture shifted: the lean of his chest into hers, the soft exhale against her temple, the quiet gravity in the way his hand slid along the curve of her back and settled at the small of it. Holding her there. Close.

His voice, when it came, was a whisper—a hint of fear, a touch of anticipation.

“...I don’t think I’d mind being alone with you.”

A beat. Then, dryly—though the heat beneath his words betrayed him:

“Just you, me… and the Racyon with a service record.”

The tension didn’t fade. It stretched—taut, humming with anticipation. Not just physical, though that too. It was the danger of wanting, of choosing. The kind of closeness that no longer hid behind duty or delay.

And for once, he didn’t try to fight it.

---

The silence in the room was vast, but not empty.

It was broken only by the soft rhythm of breath—hers and his, tangled and quiet in the dark. Ambient force-glow spilled across the edge of the sheets, casting pale curves against skin and fabric.

Aadihr lay on his side, propped slightly on one elbow. The blanket traced the slope of his hip, loose against bare skin. His white hair, longer now than it had been in years, spilled in tussled curls and strands across his cheek and collarbone. Scars old and new drew a quiet constellation across his chest and ribs, each one a story, a survival. They no longer felt like walls between him and the world. Not here.

Not now.

His free hand reached—slow, uncertain still—to brush along her shoulder, fingers drifting over the faint metal edge of her prosthetic, then to skin. The contact was featherlight, as if grounding himself.

He didn’t say anything – There was no performance here, no armor. Only the feeling of being seen, and the terrifying comfort of being held.

Finally, with a breath so soft it almost wasn’t a laugh:

“Still here.”

A quiet affirmation. A promise. A prayer. All of it.

And for once… he wanted to stay.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie's lips curved faintly, the edges of a smile barely visible in the dim light. She hadn't moved since he touched her shoulder—hadn't needed to. Every nerve along her skin had already come alive, like the hum of a blazing minefield about to ignite. Her throat tightened, and she blinked slowly, the faint silver-blue glow from the master suite light strips (set to low) casting soft shadows across Aadihr's face.

"You'd better be," she murmured, her voice softer than she expected. Lower and slower, as if speaking too loud might break the fragile truth between them. "It would've been really awkward, waking up to find you'd bolted."

Her hand moved instinctively, brushing a pale strand of hair from his brow. Azzie let her thumb linger at his temple. Just for a second. Some small, reckless part of her just wanted to stay—right here, where danger felt distant and his breath was the only gravity she needed.

What the hell am I doing...

Azzie shifted slightly beneath the blanket, intending to turn more fully toward him, but her muscles protested. A sharp reminder of how much her body was still recovering. Even now, curled beside him in what should have been warmth and ease, there was strain beneath her skin. Her body hadn't forgotten the starvation, the deprivation. It clung to it like a shadow. She drew in a slow breath, swallowing the frustration to keep it from showing.

Aadihr's fingertips still rested near her shoulder, a quiet presence. She could feel the tremble there that would be too faint for anyone else to notice aside from her. Not after the nights they'd fought side by side, bled in the same dust, and screamed into the same darkness. She knew the weight of silence, and this wasn't that. This was... peaceful.

In a way, that was part of what worried her. Amethyst-colored eyes darted across the room for a second, as if looking for something that might have been waiting in the shadows, checking for surveillance—

"You know what I think? You should let me give you a little haircut." She teased after the pause to center herself, twirling one of the white curls around her finger and trailing upward to run her remaining biological hand through it.

So fluffy and soft, like having a cloud in the palm of your hand.

The way he didn't flinch when she rolled toward him. The way his breath stilled when she pressed her forehead against his, their clothes still forgotten somewhere in a pile on the floor. Just her. Just him. Just them.

Before she had the chance to say—or do, really—anything more, she heard the frantic chittering and clawing at the bedroom door and found herself laughing before she could stop it. "That might be my cue. The healers are probably close to sending a search party by now. Or worse, notifying Master Valery I snuck out unauthorized—again."

Aadihr Lidos​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Stay

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

Her voice broke softly against the dark, and Aadihr let his forehead rest against hers. Still. Silent. Listening.

She touched his temple again, and he let her. No flinch. No tension. Her hand was warm, steady, and so very real. It didn’t matter that she checked the shadows for danger. He’d already checked them first.

When her fingers wound into his hair and teased the idea of a haircut, he made a soft scoffing sound—not quite a laugh.

“You give me a haircut and I’ll start looking like a temple initiate again.” A beat. “...Or worse. A politician.”

He exhaled through his nose, slow and calm. The kind of exhale that meant I could stay like this.

Then came the scratching. The furious claws of a creature who had been very patient—for Cinnamon, anyway.

“Tell them I put you under strict meditative supervision.” A pause. “If Valery asks, it was an emergency. Spiritual, obviously.”

There was a ghost of a smirk on his face now, the kind that never quite reached full expression, but lingered like morning fog across a lake.

He reached out, trailing fingers down the side of Azzie’s arm—prosthetic, biological, it didn’t matter. He felt the her beneath all of it.

Then, quieter. More careful.

“You don’t have to explain this to anyone. Not even yourself.”

His touch paused, just over her hand.

“It happened. We’re still here.”

So maybe we try… staying.

Azurine Varek​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Still Here

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: The Force

Azzie let out a slow breath, a half-laugh caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat. She could feel the warmth from his hand, resting just above hers, and it made her want to close the distance entirely. Maybe press her lips to his wrist. Maybe say something honest. Stupidly honest. "You'd make a better politician than most people out there. Kinder... I'd definitely vote for you."

Aadihr's hand closed over hers, warm and reassuring. The contrast—biological and synthetic, flesh and steel—felt almost like a promise.

Kriffing hell, focus. She willed herself to blink, to steady the heat pooling at her cheeks. Aadihr's words folded into her like silk wrapping around a blade: gentle, yet impossible to ignore. We're still here. He made it sound so simple. But Azzie's heart hammered at her ribs, drowning out doubt. She tipped her hand so her thumb brushed the corner of his lips and curled a leg around his, pressing closer until the warmth of his thigh seeped into her own.

"You know," she whispered, her voice rasping as she leaned in just slightly, her lips ghosting near the curve of his jaw, "when you talk like that, I start imagining exactly how much trouble I could get you into."

There was a grin tugging at her lips now, but it was thinly veiled. Behind the teasing was heat. She shifted just enough for her gaze to meet the sockets where his eyes would have been, her hand still tangled lightly in his fluffy white hair. It was too intimate for teasing, too playful for regret. Azzie pressed forward, just enough to feel the warmth of his mouth against hers again—an electric brush, testing permission—eventually trailing down the curve of his neck.

And then—scritchscritchscritch—THWUMP.

"Son of a—she's going to claw through the blasted metal."

The door trembled in its frame with the intensity of Cinnamon's newest protest, claws skittering against the durasteel and a sharp, insistent chitter echoing through the quiet.

"Fine, you gremlin. Come in."

The Force rippled faintly as she reached a hand out with a small swipe of her fingers—habit, instinct, and mild annoyance combining into a gentle mental nudge. The door gave a soft shhhpt as it slid open, just long enough for Cinnamon to barrel in like she'd been exiled for an eternity instead of only the evening. The red-furred racyon launched onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and indignation, chirping dramatically while inserting her fuzzy, insistent self directly between the two of them.

"You little traitor," Azzie muttered, trying not to laugh as Cinnamon flopped across her midsection like a glorified heating pad. "You're not even subtle."

The creature chittered smugly, kneading at Azzie's side before plopping her head down with the most self-satisfied purr Azzie had ever heard.

Aadihr Lidos​