Symbiosis

[Artemis Lux]

M A N D A L O R E S Y S T E M​

E N R O U T E T O M A N D A ' Y A I M​

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Artemis Lux and [member="Kad Tor"] were falling through wild space. The stars seemed to hang upside down as the massive, hazy surface of some indeterminable planet curved into view out of the darkness and rushed toward them in what felt like lightspeed and slow motion all at once. Emergency sirens wailed and red warning lights flashed in the cockpit of their doomed ship, which was losing pressure rapidly.

“Bu'nas'a those Dominion hounds!” Artemis swore into the com, over the static of the frayed radiowaves. “We’ve been hit! We’ve been hit!”

The damage was a small price to pray in the name of defending their homeworld. It seemed that even a broken and deteriorated Mandalore attracted the eyes of outsiders who would exploit her precious resources. The offshoot that called themselves the Dominion had set their sights on Mandalore and her sister planets and descended upon them like ravenous dogs. Artemis, Kad, and other members of the Faithful had answered the call of Mand’alor the Exile and arrived, gunships blazing, to thwart the interlopers’ efforts at annexation.

Unfortunately for Artemis and Kad, however, their jump to hyperspace had landed them squarely in the middle of enemy fire. Another strike, harder and more direct than the first, rocked their cruiser. The static of the com and the wailing of the sirens, once small reassurances that they weren’t too far-gone, were knocked out in an instant. The cockpit fell deathly silent.

“No,” Artemis breathed, frantically flipping the power switch of the co-pilot terminal up and down, twisting knobs and testing buttons. Vivid green eyes flashed to Kad in the pilot’s seat at her side, steely resolve masking her underlying emotion. “We can’t just sit here and wait to die. What do we do? How are we going to—“

A third strike nearly sent Artemis tumbling from her seat and into Kad’s lap. She steadied herself by throwing out an instinctive hand to grab hold of his arm. Behind them, a billow of flames had burst from the back of the dying cruiser and was swiftly filling their tiny pocket of air with smoke. Lungs strained, eyes burned, cognizance grew thin and bleary. Artemis leaned heavily into Kad as violent coughs racked her body. Even through the burgeoning haze, she could not quell the startling thoughts that had begun to overtake her imminently fading consciousness.

For years, after losing her family, she would have greeted the prospect of joining them in death like an old friend. She had felt as though she had nothing then—nothing to live or fight for. Now, however . . .

“I don’t want to die.”

The fourth and final strike hit hard. As the wrecked ship hurtled into the unknown planet’s brilliant atmosphere, Artemis braced for impact and called out for Kad—but it was too late. Oxygen was rushing out of the cockpit like so many breaths from her lips. There was a bright flash of light, and then impenetrable darkness. Artemis, with one last desperate gasp for air, faded into merciful oblivion.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Alarms echoed their shrill sounds throughout the cockpit as the ship spun out of control. Kad pulled on the control yoke to no avail as he attempted to right the ship. Piloting systems were down after the first hit, and his mind was thinking what Artemis had voiced. The curse rang in his ears, and Kad looked the woman next to him and nodded. The attack had brought the Lioness’ rage to the forefront, and should they survive this, their attackers would suffer greatly.

A second volley came, a third which saw Artemis out of her restraints and tossed into Kad's lap. Had this been other circumstances Kad may have had a quick witted comment, but instead had nothing to say. His mind was focused on the inevitable. They would crash. The gravitational pull of the planet was too strong, and the momentum of the ship a force that could not be reversed. Their eyes met, and Kad saw something which gave him hope. Artemis was still fighting.

“I don’t want to die.”

Again Kad nodded, this time cursing as he was powerless to gain control of the ship. Even the best pilot wouldn't be able to, but his pride kept him from ceasing his efforts.

“You will live and not die, I promise.”

It was a promise Kad could not make and keep, but he would be damned if he did not try. He had not used the force in some time, but there was one thing he could try in order to protect them. Just at that thought the fourth volley came and sent the ship careening to its ultimate destination.

Kad had to act quickly. In the rush of his actions he had not noticed Artemis go unconcious. He wrapped her up in his arms, and as the blur of green and dirt streaked across his vision Kad called on the force to shield them. The barrier was not big, just enough to envelope them and no more. As soon as the impact of the crash was absorbed the shield was gone and Kad blacked out.

When he came to he could feel his body ache. Debris littered the crash sight. Soot and ash rest beneath their bodies as the ground had burned beneath them. His vision was blurred, but the sun reflected off of the golden armor he had crafted for the Lioness and betrayed her location. She was next to him as he had hoped.

“Ha! We made it,” Kad exclaimed.

He was answered with silence, and fear washed over him. In an instant his mind could only imagine the worst and that the Lioness, HIS Lioness had marched on. Setting up he pulled the gauntlet off his hand to find her pulse. Two fingers went to the jugular and waited. Relief washed over him as the truth her survival was confirmed with the faint pulsating rhythm against his fingers. Kad let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. They couldn't stay among the debris. It was time to find shelter.

Kad rigged up a way to drag Artemis behind him without lifting her too much. He didn't know how bad the injury to her head could have been if any and didn't want to risk it. When Artemis would finally come to she would find herself in a cave, the sound of a river near by, and a fire to keep them warm. Kad was by her side, leaning on the cave wall praying to the Manda she would wake up soon.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Mother!

The voice of a small boy echoed faintly in the depths of Artemis’ mind. Even comatose, she recognized her son’s cry instantly. “I’m here!” Artemis called—or rather, tried to call. She willed her body to turn in the direction from whence the voice came, but found her limbs noncompliant. “Stay there, darling,” Artemis again tried to murmur, pushing through the thick cobwebs of her feverish dream. “I’m coming!” She tried once more to move, to no avail. The crash had effectively thrown her body into a state of temporary paralysis—to Kad, she would appear to be lost in slumber—but her subconscious remained very much alive. Shadowy memories and the vague outline of beloved faces danced in her mind, tormenting her, just out of reach. Each time she tried to lift a hand to make contact—to run her fingers along the silk of her childhood bed, to caress the rugged plane of her husband’s cheek—the image would disappear like smoke, and she would find herself trapped in vast, dark nothingness.

This internal mind game waged for hours while, on the surface, Artemis slept. To her, it felt like an eternity. It wasn’t until a familiar shape glimmered in her mind’s eye that she began to stir: the silhouette of hunter green beskar’gam, finely crafted and made for a man of considerable stature. “Kad,” Artemis breathed, but this time, her voice broke through the dream and entered reality. In her subconscious, the familiar shape had begun to move farther and farther away. “No—Kad! Kad!” What sounded to Artemis like a veritable cry, would sound to Kad like nothing more than a whimper. On the cave floor, Artemis had begun to wake at last.

It was a fitful process. Splayed out on her back, with her arms resting gently on the ground above her head, the mighty Lioness had never looked so vulnerable or small. She fought hard for consciousness. Dark curls tossed around her face as she rolled her head from one side to the other. Sweat beaded across her furrowed brow, every tapered muscle beneath her olive skin rippling and contracting to reclaim autonomy—stopped only by the abrupt shoot of pain that traveled from her head down to her toes.

All at once, her eyes opened. Vivid emerald gaze pushed through half-raised lashes, blinking into the firelight as her senses focused. For a moment, Artemis could not remember where she was or how she had gotten there. All she knew was that her head ached, her shoulder throbbed, and there was something badly wrong with her ankle. Alarm might have replaced her confusion had her eyes not found Kad at her side. Comfort, and clarity, came rushing back to her in a wave. Artemis remembered everything: their mission to Manda’yaim, the intercepting dogfight with Dominion battleships, the final moment before she blacked out as their damaged cruiser careened through wild space. Artemis realized with chilling alacrity that they must have crashed. Not one to remain idle, she immediately attempted to move, to rise, to spring to action, to do something, anything—but her injuries would not allow it.

Artemis groaned quietly, in pain and frustration, letting her head fall back on the ground. Green eyes squeezed shut, before slowly looking up to Kad. She searched his face. “Are you alright?” She almost didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice. It rose out of her slender throat as if from beneath a great weight, distant and weak. Even with her tone so soft, its slight reverberation drew her attention to their surroundings—they were in a deep cave of some sort, while nearby, a river churned and flowed. She could only speculate as to what planet had become their accidental refuge. “ . . . where are we?”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad would never have been able to see the scenes which played out in the mind of Artemis Lux as she lay on the floor of the cave. His ability in the force was not particularly strong in the area of the mind. He could manipulate physical objects, but minds… Even if he could, he would never invade her mind. It would seem a greedy breach of trust. That was one thing he hoped never to repeat.

As she lay on the floor, Kad could only hope she was not in a coma. There was life in her, that much he could sense as he tried, but escaping the planet would be difficult if she remained unconscious. His thoughts drifted to a negative place as they tried to convince him she would never wake up. He fought the idea, hoping with all certainty she was fine. Kad found himself thinking he could not survive without her. His new found soberness would not at the very least.

Kad questioned why he felt as he did. Naturally he was attracted to her, even cared for her, but these thoughts went beyond simple friendship. They were the musings of someone who felt more than a camaraderie for another. Kad knew the answer, but he was too much a Tor to admit that perhaps he'd finally allowed himself to move on beyond his own loneliness.

Artemis began to toss. He wished the ability to calm her mind, but Kad was not skilled in such matters. His hopes were lifted at the sight regardless. Movement meant she was coming back to consciousness. Aside from lighting the fire, Kad had not left her side. There had been no change, no movement til now. His head canted at the muffled sound of his name. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He'd half expected to her calling out the name of her son, or husband, but instead it was his name. Perhaps she remembered what happened, another good sign.

Her eyes opened, and Kad's sapphire gaze found them quickly. They were not clouded over, no haze filled them. Her emeralds seemed as brilliant as ever, and released a sigh Kad did not know he had held. Another steady breath was taken and let out slowly. Her question only made Kad chuckle.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that question?”

Kad reached for Artemis’ hand.

“I am hurt, but able. The ship was too damaged for me to get a proper reading. I cannot tell you what planet this is, only that the Manda smiled on us enough to make it habitable.”

Perhaps he was trying to lighten the mood so that there would be no need to tell her his thoughts. He wrestled with them as the prospect of burying her on the world they found themselves on had seemed real for some time. His eyes were heavy with worry, though also seemed to lighten with relief at her revival. There was still the matter of getting off the planet, but until now, it had not been his primary care.

Kad’s eyes had still not left the emeralds belonging to the Lioness.

“You scared me, Ar’ika. I feared you were about to march on to join your son and husband, and I feel guilty for hoping you would choose to stay.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

“If I were so delicate or breakable, you’d be better off if I had died.”

Artemis intended the retort to sound dry, witty, and full of no-nonsense resolve—but the near-whisper of her voice when she spoke, and the way that her expressive eyes lingered on Kad as he held her hand, betrayed the emotion that swam beneath the iron lock of her composure. For a moment, she fell silent.

The crash had been a close call—too close. Artemis knew with a hideous certainty that either one of them could have perished, and likely should have perished. Her feelings on the matter were two-fold and equally alarming:

First, that she was unprecedentedly grateful to have survived, where she previously would have craved death—or rather, craved what came after death, presuming it entailed a reunion with her lost family.

Second, that she had come uncomfortably close to surviving without Kad—to losing him. Her discomfiture at the notion felt deeper and more substantial than mere gladness at the preservation of another human life, and somehow weightier than that of an acquaintance or friend. It perplexed and disturbed her, so much that Artemis chose to push it to the recesses of her mind and disregard it entirely.

“We need to get off this planet,” Artemis murmured briskly, extricating her hand from Kad’s as she realized their fingers were still locked. The Lioness had returned and was all business. “Let’s figure out what’s wrong with me so I can heal and be useful.”

With a struggled effort, and more than fair deal of help, Artemis labored to push herself up to seated and allowed her back to rest heavily against the hard stone of the wall. She closed her eyes, chest rising and falling with her strenuous gasps for air. The war drum of her heart pounded mightily, even from such a small movement.

“Help me remove my beskar’gam.”

Sharp green eyes flickered open to Kad. It wasn’t a request.

“I know my shoulder is wounded, and the armor is weighing it down. My ankle, too.” A wry smile ghosted across her lips, but something more sincere glimmered just beneath it—a look of gratitude and pride that she reserved only for the goran. “It could be worse—your fine workmanship with beskar did its job.”

The truth of her assessment became gruesomely apparent as, one by one, each piece of golden iron fell to the earth in a resounding clang. There was no time for foolishness or modesty—Artemis was left in the midriff and fitted pants that were standard for her kute. She might have shivered at the sudden chill of cool, damp air against her exposed skin had she not been so distracted by the fresh wave of pain that rolled through her body. The slump of her injured shoulder, and the unnatural hang of her ankle, suggested unpleasant injuries.

Artemis grimaced. “ . . . that’s not a pretty sight, is it?” She returned her attention to Kad. “I’ll need medical supplies, if you were able to salvage any, and your steady hands.”

Something buried under the sharpness of her gaze had grown soft, even vulnerable. It expressed what her words could not: I’m trusting you.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

"If you were so delicate and breakable I never would have been drawn to you."

Kad found the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. It was true however, and whether the words were meant to flatter her or praise her, Kad valued Artemis for who she was. Her strength was what he had noticed first, her beauty paled in comparison to it. Not that Kad did not find her physically attractive, but like all the Mando'ade strength and skill were primary qualities. Artemis was gracefully strong, a quality which intrigued Kad, and one which would always be his favorite.

In this moment her strength was also the most frustrating quality. The woman wanted to keep moving, to find a solution. Kad started to lift his hand to tell her to stop, but the stubborn will of the woman had Artemis sitting up. He sighed. Perhaps had Briika been with them she could talk sense into the woman, but Kad knew better than to remind Artemis that despite her strength, injuries were still injuries.

She wanted his help in removing her armor, and Kad nodded. Out of all things coming out of her mouth, that did make sense. So Kad complied. Quielty, and carefully he helped her to remove the pieces which would be the most painful. The back plate had proven a struggle before, and with an injured shoulder it would be impossible. The compliment of his work made him smile, but it had not been his work which had saved her. How was he to tell her the one thing about his life which had the power to remind her most of her husband's death was the thing which had kept them alive.

Perhaps the moment would not have been so awkward had Kad not come to terms with the fact his feelings for the Lioness were growing beyond the bonds of friendship. It felt as though removing her armor under such a position was something he should not be doing, whereas for a friend it would seem normal. The truth was his mind was already decided. Regardless of the future, or what Artemis would find herself feeling, she was someone that Kad would always consider part of his life. She had helped him to sober after all. His life was on a new course because of her strength and resolve.

She deserved the truth.

"I am sure it looks worse than it is," Kad said breaking the silence which he had slipped into. "Your ankle is likely just sprained, but your shoulder... I am not sure. If I were stronger in my abilities my shield would have held and your injuries would be minor."

Kad looked out toward the mouth of the cave. He had not been able to gather medical supplies. His primary focus had been their survival, her survival. Kad found that he valued her life above his own, and it pained him that she was the one who had been hurt the most. She had cared for him during his detox, and now it was his turn to care for her wounds.

Her eyes said something they had not before. She signaled trust.

"I haven't salvaged any... but..." she was trusting him.

Kad closed his eyes, and through the force found the part of her aura that was tainted. He concentrated until it was as bright as the rest of her. He didn't know what she would feel, but the places where she had pain, it would be gone.

He was quiet after, unsure if she would see this as a violation of her privacy or not.

"You would have pushed the limits of your injuries, and if we are going to get off this planet you need to be healthy now..."

They had never talked about his use of the force since she had seen him use his lightsaber. It was a rare occurrence that Kad used the either it or the force. This would certainly bring about that conversation, and Kad had hoped she would not like him any less because of it.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

If you were so delicate or breakable I never would have been drawn to you.

Artemis faltered. The remark was innocent enough on its face—it could have meant anything—but something about the way Kad said it crawled beneath her skin. He was developing an uncomfortable talent for picking away at the thick shell of her composure, but his methods were neither intrusive nor even entirely voluntary, so it seemed. Kad was simply being himself. On more than one occasion, his candor and sincerity had caught Artemis off-guard and overwhelmed her with such an indeterminable mixture of emotions as to leave her not only speechless, but supremely vexed. He made her feel vulnerable and raw, where she was usually fiercely hard and resilient—he stole the words from even her most clever tongue. Now, as she lay before him in her kute, Artemis—the proud, indomitable Lioness—felt exposed.

It was maddening.

She might have continued to stew on her unusual predicament, had Kad’s voice not commanded her attention once more. Green eyes flashed to his face. Had she heard him correctly?

If I were stronger in my abilities my shield would have held and your injuries would be minor.

“Your what?” Artemis furrowed the fine arch of her brows, then shook her head. “—never mind that. If we don’t have supplies, we need to go back to the ship immediately and—”

The Lioness stopped abruptly.

“ . . . Kad?”

Something in the atmosphere had shifted. Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, the cool, damp air of the cavern melted down into an inexorable warmth and pressed gently into the curves and valleys of Artemis’ broken body like an invisible hand. She could do nothing but watch in bewilderment as the strange energy probed until it found her wounded shoulder and ankle—whereupon it rushed inside the mangled bones with a great flash of light.

Artemis cried out, squeezing shut her eyes and allowing her dark curls to fall back against the hard stone wall. The lean muscles that were carved beneath her abdomen tightened and rippled with the fresh burst of pain . . . and then relaxed. The pain had dissolved from her shoulder and ankle entirely, leaving only a small twinge of tenderness in its stead.

Silence fell as the cave returned to its normal temperature. Chills prickled over Artemis’ exposed skin, and soon the heavy rise and fall of her chest grew more even. As she took a moment to collect herself, her momentarily jumbled thoughts had already begun to reassemble themselves in her sharp mind like a well-oiled machine. She did not have to ask to know what Kad had done.

Vivid emerald eyes flickered open to find his face. For a moment, she could not speak—but the conflict that played out across her patrician features said enough: gratitude and relief, tempered by hurt and confusion, rounded out by suspicion and even betrayal. Artemis’ feelings toward the Force went beyond the garden variety skepticism born by most Mandalorians. For a woman whose family had been slain by a Jedi, the issue was deeply personal. It was no secret to her that Kad was Force-sensitive, but Artemis had only been confronted with that fact for one very fleeting moment back on Dxun—and they had never spoken about it since then.

It seemed the time to talk had come.

“You did what you had to do,” She murmured, holding his gaze strong. “But why did you never tell me?”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Her words felt like she had just stabbed him in the gut with her beskad. Kad did exactly what he had to do, but it seemed as though she tolerated it. The question that had done the most damage was why didn't he tell her. That answer wasn't one he thought he could give without causing another rift he would have to mend. Despite those thoughts she wanted to know it all.

Kad knew it was fear which held him back. The armor she wore was a symbol of the rift he had already caused by his drunkenness, though it also served as a reminder of her forgiveness. Certainly the memory of their near kiss weighed on his mind constantly. There was an undeniable tension of something more which rest beneath the surface of their friendship, and while it was exciting at times, it was also frightening.

Kad knew his silence would be worse than the truth, but there was still a sense of shame in his eyes. “The look on your face when I pulled out my lightsaber when we were hunting the Drexel… it wasn't a pleasant one. I was afraid if you knew just how much like the man who…” Kad stopped before he said what Artemis already knew. It wasn't that Kad thought of her to be that fickle of a woman. If anything she was strong. The power of loss made people do things they would not otherwise. Kad had been too humbled by his own actions to think anyone immune.

“I had to keep us alive, and you had to know I am Mando’ad first. If there were any other way…”

His eyes moved from hers. Kad didn’t understand why he felt shame suddenly. Perhaps it was the fact he’d healed her wounds without permission. The sound the pain which came with the healing process had hurt his ears, his heart. Kad knew he had caused that pain, and though she was healed now, he had been the one who had hurt her.

Kad looked to the fire. It was dwindling, and with Artemis in nothing but her kute she would be getting cold. He reached for another log and set it on the fire. The fact Kad had a fire going and wood cut to keep it going would give Artemis a clue as to how long she had been out.

“I am not sorry however. Perhaps I am being selfish, but as long as I am alive, I refuse to let you march on without me.”

His candor in the past few moments was as close as he had come to expressing his true thoughts and feelings for the woman. Kad was unsure what they were to a degree, but he had already come to terms with the fact she would be in his life regardless of what that looked like. She was more than a friend, and the tension which always built when the two were alone confirmed those thoughts. Surviving was going to test what bubbled below the surface.

Kad refused to be idle despite their conversation. As he sat next to Artemis, he began to remove his own armor, beginning with the leg pieces. For the benefit of how awkward it seemed for them both to be in nothing but their kute Kad left the armorweave material on his torso. The last thing they needed to add to the mix was more nudity than what flesh was already exposed.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

There it was again: the visceral pang of truth. Even under attack, every word from Kad held unmitigated significance and conviction. Artemis felt the swell of some strange emotion rise beneath her chest as he spoke. She had questioned him perhaps unfairly, but he did not waver or back down. Nor did he return fire. He simply responded as he always did—by speaking his truth with an openness that she could only envy and admire. None of Artemis’ training in diplomacy had taught her how to express her own emotions, nor had any forays on the battlefield steeled her courage to do so. Vulnerability required a different kind of bravery that Artemis frankly did not have. She relied on clever words and a stiff wall of unrepentant resolve. Kad leapt through that façade like nothing more than a glass window, shattering the pieces at her feet.

For a moment, Artemis couldn’t speak. She could only watch the flicker of Kad’s masterful silhouette play against the outline of the flames as he stoked the fire. It wasn’t lost on her that she must have been comatose for quite some time. A perfectly laid stack of wood rested not far from the now cheerily leaping embers that rose higher and higher through the darkness. The display was a testament to Kad’s prowess as a huntsman and his meticulousness as a goran. It also lent action to support his words—he had ventured out into the planet unknown and, by the sweat of his brow, done what was necessary to keep her not just alive, but comfortable and warm. A bristle of renewed warmth ran down her skin as he sat down at her side to remove his own armor, but it was unclear whether the heat she felt came from the fire.

“I was wrong to judge you so harshly.”

Artemis stared hard into the flames as she spoke. The dancing orange light reflected brilliantly in her vivid green eyes, but she seemed to be looking far away. The act of accepting Kad for what he was—a user of the same Force that had slain her husband and child, the Force that all Mandalorians were raised from birth to deem suspect—meant more to her than she could readily fathom. She was a proud and stubborn woman, for one. Admitting that she was wrong had taken more strength than she cared to admit. But accepting Kad . . . accepting Kad meant making room for him—all of him. To do so, she had to let something go.

The fist she clenched around her own heart fractionally loosened.

“I’m everything my father hoped I would be—a brazen patriot and a blindly devoted mando’dala.” Her head of dark curls turned from where it rested on the cool stone wall next to him. As their gazes met, Artemis allowed a quiet glint of humor to pull at the dimple in her cheek, hoping to inject some small sense of lightness into the tension between them. Her seriousness just as quickly returned. “I was taught to be as suspicious of magic as you were. I don’t understand the Force. You must appreciate that my only direct experience with it is limited to the worst moment of my life—a moment I relive every day.”

She paused, looking to the ground.

“I thought the Force was nothing more than a weapon for cowards afraid to bloody their hands—a murder weapon.”

Sharp emerald eyes ventured back up to his face, searching. The reflection of the fire seemed to dance higher now than ever.

“You’ve shown me something quite different. I admit I’ve had to ask myself more than once how something so powerful could be bad if the manda saw fit to vest it in you.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad did not accept her words at first, not about being wrong to judge him. Her suspicions were right to be had considering her past. It was only natural, and how could it be wrong. The tension which had been building between them was only growing to a boiling point. It was something Kad didn't know how to deal with. Ral had made it so easy, and they had been young. Artemis may have had Ral’s green eyes, but Kad could not read them like he had been able to read Ralize’s.

Kad had never intended to reach deep past the defenses Artemis had built, but the more he chipped away at them, the happier he became. He truly was drawn to her, and without realizing it, she had captured his affections and intentions. His eyes no longer looked to other women to warm his bed when he was lonely. While she had not thought herself capable of reaching to the intimate places which Kad had tried to hide, Artemis had managed to put her finger on his insecurities. He was open to her because she had exposed him.

“No you were not, not when you have lost so much.”

That was all he could say. There eyes met and all he could do was listen to her. She explained her skepticism and how the force had stolen her husband and son. Kad looked away when she mentioned the force being a weapon for cowards. He had used to think the same until those of his family had proven to have access to it. Nolan had been first, even his own Ralize. Kad had been the last to exhibit the skill, and like anything given him, he desired to hone it as a weapon for the Manda.

Their eyes met again as she confessed her true thoughts. Kad listened. Artemis had never attempted to be open about what she felt, and now that she had, Kad found himself speechless. Her words were given with an eloquence his always lacked. He was a maker, a builder, a craftsman, and warrior. He was not an orator or diplomat.

Kad’s head hung, but not out of shame. His lips pulled into a smile and his eyes flickered with the glow of the firelight. He watched as the flames danced their light on the cave ceiling pondering if there even was anything to say at all. There were words, but for him they never seemed to convey what he truly thought.

His blue eyes searched hers, and they only bore the truth. He closed his eyes as he rest his forehead to hers. This time there was no swift move to grab her head and hold her still. It was gentle and soft, an appreciative gesture more than a confession of his feelings. Still the moment only reminded him of the previous moments they had shared like this. No, they were not just friends, but when would they admit the truth to each other?

“It will be cold tonight,” he said pulling away with a grin. “The fire will not keep us warm enough.”

It appeared they would not be admitting their feelings this night as Kad suddenly changed the subject back to their survival.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Honesty was powerful. As Artemis spoke, and as Kad listened, a small portion of the weight she had carried seemed to liquefy and pour from her soul in a molten flood, leaving her to feel somehow lighter than before. It was neither a perfect nor a complete remedy for the anguish she had endured, nor would it ever erase her scars—but it was the most direct Artemis had been with Kad, or with herself, in quite some time.

And Kad accepted it.

When he pressed his forehead against hers, Artemis did not flinch or protest as before. Her lashes lowered as something startlingly akin to contentment ghosted across her lips, tension slowly melting from the sharp muscles and soft curves of her body. She returned the mirshmure’cya—the third traditional gesture they had shared—with a pliant tenderness that was unheard of for the Lioness. It was as much of an appreciative act for her as it was for him. They had done so much for each other since their first meeting on Dxun, when they had both answered the Aka’liit’s call as a broken widow and widower. They had hunted, fought—at each other’s side, and at each other—clawed, dragged, and scraped their way from the depths of an unimaginable hell, and now survived this. They each should have died a thousand times over, yet here they were—very much alive.

Kad pulled away, and for a brief moment, Artemis was chagrined to note that she wished he hadn’t. His tone had changed—back to their predicament.

It will be cold tonight. The fire will not keep us warm enough.

In an instant, Artemis snapped back to her habitual sharpness. “I hardly think we’re in danger of frostbite,” She replied tersely, keen emerald eyes tapering like that of a feline. “I can weather the cold. At any rate—” With some effort, the incorrigibly stubborn woman pushed herself to her feet. She winced at the tenderness that still beleaguered her shoulder and ankle, but otherwise stood as straight and proud as ever. “—there’s an emergency supply kit that should have survived the wreckage. If you won’t search for it, I will.”

Artemis turned in a sweeping fan of dark curls. The dusky outline of her figure glimmered past the fire as she made her way toward the gaping mouth of the cave. Her brisk retreat was in part motivated by the desire to track down the missing kit—to do something, to feel proactive, as she loathed feeling helpless—but it was also motivated by the sudden instinct to put as much distance between herself and Kad as she could. He was becoming increasingly bolder and more comfortable in sharing her physical space. Even worse, she was allowing it.

The Lioness might have cursed her momentary softness—might have even made it to the end of the cavernous tunnel and plunged out into the night—had she not been halted by a sudden swell of pain that rushed over her body. It seemed that Kad’s invocation of the Force had restored functionality to her wounded limbs and eased the worst of her discomfort, but not totally mitigated the aftershock of the crash. Artemis stopped abruptly, throwing out a hand against the stone wall to catch her failing balance. Eyes fell closed as she murmured incoherent words of frustration under her breath. In her mind, she could still move mountains—but in actuality, her weakened state rendered the small walk to the entrance exhausting.

“ . . . perhaps I’ll wait until morning.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

There could have been a moment had Kad remained which may have melted the rest of their stubborn resolve to not say anything to each other, or act on the tenuous pull they had felt toward each other. This third touch had been much different than the others. Artemis did not bristle at the touch. While Kad had intentionally not allowed it to go beyond the simple gesture it was, he had been comforted in the fact Artemis no longer seemed to want to hold him at arm's length. Until he suggested it was going to be cold.

Artemis snapped back into her stubborn and determined self. Kad chuckled, and found he couldn’t help it. Just the thought of staying warm had sent her into a tizzy, and the distance she put between them was humorous in a way.

“You will brave the night wilds in your kute,” Kad asked as he pushed himself up on his feet and began to follow her.

His pace was slow as he allowed her to make it as far as she could. Part of him was curious just how well he had healed her. It wasn't his strongest skill, and it proved to be so. There was still pain in her body, pain Kad no longer had the energy to find and heal. It had been a stretch of his skill to as he had after the shield he had made for their protection.

When her hand gripped the cave wall, Kad reached as her balance seemed of. She was going to protest, and her pride would be wounded, but Artemis needed help, and a night’s rest. To avoid any argument on the matter, Kad scooped her up in his arms and lifted her off the ground. He carried her as groom often would carry his bride over the threshold of a door. There was a smug look on his face knowing he was stronger than her, but there was also a warmth which built in his cheeks as it occurred to him that he had scooped her up only to take her back to the fire and hold her for the shared warmth they could make.

For as many times as Kad had admittedly thought about having Artemis in his arms for a night, this was not the circumstances he had imagined. That thought only warmed his cheeks even more. Though he had been a widower, he found himself blushing like a schoolboy who had only discovered his interest in girls. The romantic tension which the two had never addressed, even after the near kiss, did not help matters in this sense.

Kad set her on her down near the fire with a stern look in his eyes which told her that he wasn't going to put up with her stubborn resolve and pride when their survival was stake. He hopen his look was telling enough, and Artemis was wise enough to heed it. He joined her at her side.

“We will salvage the wreckage in the morning, after we have eaten a hearty breakfast. There is a river and waterfall out the mouth of the cave for water, and wildlife plenty enough to keep us from going hungry. For now, however, you need to let your strength come back to you, as do I. We do not have to be the Hammer and Lioness I sing of tonight. Tonight we simply do what we must to survive.”

With that said, Kad added another log to the fire and closed his eyes. Healing Artemis had taken more than even wanted to admit.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

“What do you think you’re doing? You wouldn’t dare—Kad, I swear to Manda—put me down, now!”

It was comedic, how easily Kad swept the dignity right out from beneath Artemis’ feet. In one fell swoop, the hulking goran had reduced the mighty Lioness to nothing more than a disgruntled, squirming kitten, scooping her up into the breadth of his arms as if she weighed less than half a feather. Artemis often forgot just how imposing Kad was in terms of stature, because—in her thick head—she was as dominating and powerful as he. As she resigned herself to the cradle of his hold, however, Artemis became acutely aware of how small she was at the mercy of his strength. He outsized her at least two or three times over, if not more. The notion maddened her. She felt suddenly inclined toward striking something—Kad’s jaw with her right hook, perhaps—but she refrained. The lingering weakness from the crash weighed down her limbs and dulled the inferno in her belly. Deeper still, in the grudging place of her heart where she stored things she wouldn’t admit, she knew that everything Kad did was for her benefit. It was endearing, and she resented him for it.

Artemis glowered up to him as he laid her down by the fire. “That was unnecessary,” She murmured, answering his stern look with tapered emerald eyes, but the way Kad spoke next left no room for further protestations. Artemis was almost shocked when he delivered his firm instructions—typically it was Artemis issuing the commands—but the role reversal wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Very well,” She conceded tersely, before adding one final warning: “We do what we must to survive—and nothing more.”

With that, the Lioness turned away from the man, settling herself squarely between him and the fire. She might have lain there, consumed in her own raging thoughts, had exhaustion not crept in at once and stolen her away. The dancing flames were the last thing she saw as she slipped into a frighteningly deep slumber—penance for her injuries. When she next stirred, hours later, the flames had dwindled into ghostly ash.

Artemis, still dreaming and quite unaware of herself, rolled over one shoulder and instinctively burrowed into the closest heat source. Slender arms wrapped languidly around the thick circumference of Kad’s neck as her head pushed into his chest, dark curls brushing up beneath his chin. Not content to stop there—as it seemed that Artemis was far more comfortable with the man in slumber than in the waking world—supple legs entwined with his as the rest of her body followed suit. Feminine curves nestled into masculine angles, and soon, it wasn’t entirely clear where the woman stopped and the man began. The warmth emanating between their skin seemed to meld them together and steep Artemis' mind into deeper dreaminess, so much that when she slowly began to wake, her senses were far too dulled for an immediate reaction.

A small sound feathered past Artemis’ lips as she quietly stirred, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh. Lashes pressed firmly against the smooth plane of her cheekbones, eyes still shut, brows furrowing in protest of her returning consciousness. She tightened her embrace around Kad and attempted to bury her face further into his shoulder, as if to hide from the gray, dusky light that had begun filter into their dark sanctuary. The bonds of slumber melted from her limbs as she stretched like a little cat against Kad, green eyes blinking once, twice, before gently opening half-way. Mistiness clouded her usually astute gaze, rendering it starry and almost soft. For one fleeting, precious moment, Artemis did not register where she was or in whose arms she contentedly lay.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Artemis did not need to give the final warning before dropping off to sleep. Kad was sober, nor had he made any further unwanted advances. If anything the steps he had taken had not only seemed wanted, but returned. Kad knew Artemis was not being honest with herself about the feelings she had. The Lioness was torn between maintaining her stubborn resolve, and what she wanted somewhere deep in the core of who she was. It would not come the surface overnight, and Kad was content to wait her out. He'd found a kindred spirit and would not let her loose.

He smiled as he drifted off to sleep thinking about how the Lioness had been reduced to the flailings of a newborn kitten when held in his arms. For all her fight and resolve, Kad’s gentle strength had been what tamed her for now. Certainly she would be ever more the strong predator in the morning, but for tonight she was in need of being weaker than him for the sake of her health. Kad had never seen her as weak, never anything less than his equal. It had been her blow which felled the Zakkeg, and her commanding determination which had seen Kad sober.

His thoughts were only of her as he drifted to sleep. For the first time in a long time he did not fall asleep alone. His mind no longer dwelled on what he lost, but only on what he had found.

The energy he had expended for the day, and the power required for the shield and healing, kept Kad asleep through the night. If he stirred he did not know it. The cool, hard, rocky surface had felt like a feather bed to his weary body, and the rock which served as his pillow did not bother him.

He woke as the light hit his eyes, and the crisp air of the morning smelled fresh lacking the harsh quality of the crash the day before. He was warmer than he thought. His eyes opened to find Artemis entwined with him. Her head rest on his chest, and his arm had wrapped around her body to hold her close. They had stayed close to be warm and survive the night, but the scene of the morning did more to affirm the feeling that they belonged together.

Kad was suddenly excited and scared at once. His heart pounded in his chest as the thought occurred to him the current arrangement felt natural. It wasn't just natural, but right. At the same time it felt like a betrayal to Ralize, though the Manda knew his behavior and coping of her loss had done more to betray her memory than anything else.

He took in a deep breath, trying not to wake the sleeping Lioness. Kad looked at her intently allowing the memory to bury itself deep into his long term memory. His eyes closed again, and with a soft whisper, he finally spoke. “Artemis,” he called her name as he stirred. “It is first light, and if we are going to eat then I must hunt.”

Kad hoped Artemis was not going to wake and be upset about where she had settled for the night. For once he could say it had not been him, at least he was certain it had not been. The hard shell of the Lioness had been exposed long enough for Kad to get a glimpse at the soft woman which she kept hidden beneath the surface. The more of it he saw, the more he found himself drawn to her.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

The weight of Kad’s arm resting heavily across her back, gathering her close against him, served as a further sedative for the barely stirring Lioness. Artemis was a strong woman, but still mortal. She was not immune from the protracted aftershock of their crash-landing, nor the warmth of the man’s embrace. Her body, still processing the trauma, seemed loathe to leave the realm of sleep. Her breathing remained slow and even, keeping time with the rise and fall of Kad’s chest beneath her cheek, signaling that she had not yet joined him in fully waking.

Fortunately for Kad, Artemis remained in her half-dreaming state even when he spoke. The only evidence that she registered his words or even heard him at all was her faint sound of protest at the suggestion that he leave to hunt. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, muffled from where her dark head pressed against the crook of his shoulder, but it sounded as though she formed the word Stay.

That was enough to jolt Artemis to her senses.

Lashes flickered open as her whole body snapped to attention. The limbs which entwined with his, once tender and pliant, stiffened in an instant as she determined with mortifying certainty where she was and how she must have gotten there. Artemis had always been a physical creature, even in slumber. Her husband had often quipped that they scarcely needed a bed—she was content sleeping directly on him. That had been so long ago, and Artemis had not lain in such intimate proximity with another man since his passing. She had almost forgotten her old habits, until now.

From her vantage point on his chest, every broad curvature and thick slab of muscle that encompassed Kad’s torso came into focus. He was beneath her, wrapped around her, everywhere—so unnervingly close that Artemis felt an instinctive burst of fight-or-flight surge through her veins. She briefly wondered how she could extricate herself from his arms without meeting his eyes, speaking to him, or even seeing him—dissipating into thin air like a genie wasn’t a viable option, nor was clocking him square over the head into obliviating unconsciousness (though she would have been remiss if she denied considering it).

Slowly, painfully slowly, Artemis pushed herself up to meet his gaze. Raven curls, mussed from sleep, fell long and wild down her bare shoulders as she perched above him, their bodies still entangled. The newness of morning clung to her skin, and slumber’s mist still hung in her vivid green eyes, but it was clear that her hard exterior was reassembling itself by the second. As they looked upon one another, Kad would only enjoy one fleeting moment with Artemis, the woman, before the Lioness returned in her stead.

“I see you survived the night,” Artemis murmured briskly, voice hoarse, averting her gaze as she extracted herself from his hold. She moved with none of her usual dexterity, but her injuries did not pain her as acutely as they had the night before, and the long night’s sleep had been good for her exhaustion. She settled herself against the stone wall, some distance from Kad, and looked out toward the bright cave entrance. But for her utter mortification, she might have insisted on joining him in the hunt, but the prospect of being alone to lick her wounded dignity had never sounded more appealing. “Take my blaster,” She said rather shortly, nodding toward the weapon without glancing back at him. “If you find the ship, mark your path. I’ll help you scavenge for supplies later.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad found the current predicament to be as awkward as it was enjoyable. The two had managed to wrap themselves into each other, and while Kad would admit that there was a strong desire for a physical relationship with the Lioness, the situation around why they had woken as they had not been what either would have likely imagined. The awkwardness was only increased as Kad knew Artemis kept herself guarded. His mind wondered if she had only entwined herself to him because she dreamed of her husband. Kad refused to compete with him as much as Artemis would compete with Ralize.

He lay near still as she stirred awake. His words had been given as an escape if she wanted it, but in her half asleep state it seemed as though she only nestled in further. “Stay…” he thought he heard her muffled voice plea. Yet at once things changed. Artemis woke, likely swallowing the pride which would tell her to avoid him. The fact she had the courage to catch his gaze made him proud. There was no reason they could not be adults about this. They had done what the needed to in order to survive. Kad would argue they had done nothing more, but the fleeting and quick glance their eyes exchanged said otherwise. Kad would not say a word, but in that moment it was clear they were both fully aware he was not her husband, and Artemis was not Ralize. Regardless they had still shared that moment, the Lioness of Dxun and the Hammer of Enceri. Another song was being written.

Kad nodded at the instruction to take her blaster. “I know where the ship is,” he stated as he began to put the pieces of his beskar’gam in place. He would not be hunting without it, though he was painfully aware that the crash had made it almost useless. Kad would need to find the time to repair it, or fashion a new set. He sighed at the thought because this armor had seen him through many battles.

He picked up her blasted and walked toward the mouth of the cave. The tension was thick, and Kad did not know what to say. His gloved hand was set on the cave wall as he turned his head over his shoulder. His eyes found Artemis once more before offering a smile. “See if you can get the fire going once more. Hot coals will be needed to cook whatever I catch.”

Kad had not had the time to set any traps or snares the night before, but as he went about his hunt, Kad was sure to do just that. Meals were needed to survive and he could not hunt every time they needed something. He was patient enough to let the snares do the work for him, but their morning meal was more immediate. He'd tracked a smallish four legged creature about the woods. There was enough meat on it for the two of them, and after foraging the forest, some edible berries were found. Kad shrugged, and as he returned to the cave he checked his snares.

As he returned to the cave, Kad saw the smoke coming from the cave entrance. He decided before walking into the cave with the meat he had found some water may be needed. His canteen was empty, and the wound of a nearby waterfall had been enticing. The water would be stirred and fresh there, and so his steps carried him through the lush green woods toward the soft bank of the river.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Artemis watched Kad leave without so much as a word, grateful when the hulking shadow of his beskar’gam faded beyond the cave and into the dense treeline. All at once, a great sigh of intermingled relief and frustration rushed past her lips. It contained so much force that she realized she had been holding her breath for the better part of a minute. She cursed quietly and ran her fingers through the endless obsidian of her hair, closing her eyes and allowing her head to fall back against the stone wall. “This is ridiculous,” She muttered, knowing all too well what ‘this’ signified and resenting that she had acknowledged it aloud, even only to herself.

It was far from a lack of emotional intelligence that prevented Artemis from accepting or even merely recognizing what was happening. The inexorable bond between her and Kad—present even from their first days on Dxun—was utterly undeniable. To deny it would have been on par with disputing that Tatooine had two suns, or that the standard rotational period of Mandalore spanned nineteen hours. The evidence was all there, in every furtive glance and preternaturally intimate understanding, so that only a fool would have failed to see the obvious.

Artemis was one such fool. It was a severe aversion to emotional honesty that kept her purposefully blind to the truth. As she set to work rebuilding the fire, she did not want to think about the blue of Kad’s eyes, nor the roguish bend of his smile when he called her Ar’ika. She did not want to reflect on his humility and kindness, nor on his uncomfortable ability to match her at every twist and turn. She did not want to recall his ferocity as a hunter nor his bravery as a warrior, nor his fierce devotion to their people as the a’lor of his clan. Most of all, she did not want to remember how she felt when she had awoken that morning, wrapped in his arms.

Naturally, Artemis thought about it all.

“—ah!”

Artemis gasped and swore as a spark of fire burnt her hand, breaking her reverie and calling her back to the present. She had been so lost in thought that she had not noticed how unnecessarily hard she had been striking two stones together over the fire pit, nor that small embers had begun to grow among the carefully placed logs. Soot smeared into the sweat and dust that already encased her skin from the crash, the grime caking together in a thick sheen. Artemis wiped her brow and rose, looking out toward the light shimmering through the cave’s entrance. She needed air.

The river, and its adjoining waterfall, seemed a fitting refuge.

One by one, Artemis peeled off each layer of her kute and draped the filthy articles over a boulder along the sandy bank, careful to set her beskad nearby, within reaching distance. Without further thought or hesitation—and heedless to the cold—Artemis dove into the curtain of thundering crystal waters and disappeared therein. When she surfaced, buoyed by the gentle eddies as she began to scrub away the dirt, she found herself humming an old Mandalorian melody.

She might have luxuriated there for quite some time had the sudden breaking of twigs and the sound of approaching footsteps not snapped her attention back toward forest. The song died on her lips, but where others might have cowered or cried out for modesty, the Lioness rose from the water in a rush of shining skin and snatched up her beskad, drawing it in front of her face defensively.

Unclothed as the day she was born, Artemis veritably shone. Crystalline rivulets of water ran down the bared hourglass of her womanly form, the supple curvatures marking her as female balanced by finely cut muscles that pulled taut at the wielding of her blade. Hell blazed in her proud emerald eyes as she stood her ground, naked and relentlessly unashamed.

“Who’s there?” She demanded. “Show yourself.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Water was more important to their survival than food. Kad had made the assumption the water would be fresh and drinkable. It had been some time since he had been forced to survive like this, and it had been made all the more imperative because of Artemis. Kad had wrestled with his feelings for the Lioness since the day he had drunkenly invited her to warm his bed and celebrate their hunt with a passionate night of what would have then been only lust. Kad's drunkenness had not let him see beyond his coping mechanisms, but even then he could not deny the budding feelings evident between them.

Kad kneeled on the bank of the river oblivious to what was actually happening. He leaned toward the water to splash some of the cold liquid onto his face. A few twigs snapped as he did, and the birds in the area rustled in a fury of chaotic flight out of the trees which had been their shelter. Kad smirked thinking he could pick some off with a blaster for lunch when a commanding voice which was all too familiar demanded to know who was there.

Looking to the sound of her voice, Kad grew wide eyed at what he saw. He had not expected to find Artemis bathing herself in the waterfall, but there she stood, her naked flesh wet, and shimmering with the light of the new sun which reflected off the glistening water. For a moment Kad froze. It was as though he had never seen the body of a naked woman before, and while he was naturally aroused by the sight, he also felt like a nervous lover still innocent in the ways of physical intimacy.

She was going to know he had seen her. His mind played over several ways he could try and avoid the ire which flashed in her eyes. Though being a male Kad was finding it difficult to keep his eyes focused on the emerald she wore beset in her eyes when there were other jewels on full display. Kad finally ducked back behind the brush, another rustling sound as his large frame was not covert in his shock at what he had seen.

Kad had a choice, he could answer and risk her wrath, he could wait for her to realize it was some animal and slowly retreat to the cave with their breakfast, or he could join her… however the last option seemed the least likely.

Gulping, knowing he would only make more noise if he left, Kad opted to answer her.

“Put the bes’kad away, Ar’ika. I simply came for some water as we need it more than food. I didn’t see you there when I stooped to wash my own face. Now if you would put the weapon away and turn your back perhaps I could open my eyes again to find my way back to the cave from here…”

While Kad had not closed his eyes entirely, he did remain hidden behind the brush completely embarrassed. He had not intended on running into Artemis like this, and while he quite liked the vision of beauty before him, there was also a respect for her which transcended the typical desire to simply hide and watch that many men would adopt.

Kad was well aware his feelings for her dictated his actions. While he was not in a place where he dare speak them aloud, Kad knew what they were. He had suspected for a time, but in this moment he knew. Patience would now be his lot in life as Artemis was not one to let her guard down at all. There were moments where Kad had been able to cause the wall to crack, but until she let him in it would not be so. Though Kad suspected she shared similar feelings, he already knew she was as torn as he was about the fact they seemed to pull them away from the ones they had lost. Life was for for the living, however, and Kad was tired of not living.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

It was Kad.

A peculiar thrill of exhilaration burned through her system in a white-hot rush of adrenaline. Artemis froze like a doe in a thicket, smooth olive skin glistening openly in the morning light as she gathered her composure. Where a lesser woman might have squealed or folded inward to cover herself, Artemis stood straight and proud as ever. Her heart raced beneath her exposed breast, but her otherwise unyielding dignity would not allow her to buckle into the underbrush of shame. She would not run from his eyes like a feeble schoolgirl. The damage had already been done—he had seen her, all of her, and scampering for the nearest shade would only add insult to injury. Artemis had nothing to hide.

She repeated this inwardly like a mantra to steel her flustered nerves.

“If I drop my blade, how will I put out your eyes?” Artemis quipped sharply, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders toward him, but even as she spoke, her sword-arm lowered in compliance. She cocked an eyebrow. “Convenient time for you to get thirsty.”

The beskad landed heavily in the sand as Artemis tossed it to shore. Without further ceremony, she waded through the shimmering crystal waters and emerged like Venus from the sea, pausing just in front of the boulder to wring the moisture out of her dripping raven locks. “You’re lucky I believe you,” She remarked off-handedly, eyeing the vicinity of the forest from whence Kad’s voice had come. “I’d kill a man for lesser indiscretions.”

What Artemis really meant was You’re lucky you are who you are. As she began to pull her kute back over the scenic rise and fall of her curves, she could not quell the startling revelation that she was not entirely displeased by Kad’s intrusion. He pulled a special sort of weight in the balance of her esteem that lent him more leeway with her mercy than she afforded others . . . but the sensation that crept over her body at the notion of baring herself before him was entirely different.

It stirred her blood.

Beyond the corporeal, however, Artemis felt the swell of something far deeper and more profound. An indeterminable emotion had begun to soften around the hardened edges of her heart. For all of his former mistakes, for all of the indulgences he had drowned himself in to cure the grief of his past, Kad was a man of honor. Even now, the masterful warrior crouched like an anxious boy in the bushes for her.

Everything he did . . . was all for her.

Artemis wanted terribly to scowl at him, to rebuke him—even worse, to shun him as she had that morning—but as she hooked her beskad back to the flare of her hip, then crossed her arms over her chest, she found the ghost of indulgence pulling at the dimple in her cheek.

“I’m dressed,” Artemis called, almost gently, tilting her dark head to one side and peering through the trees. “You can come out from wherever you’re skulking now. I’ll help you carry your kill back to camp.” She paused, vivid green eyes glinting dangerously. “But make one comment . . . ”

She left the threat unfinished.

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

“Preferably you won’t,” Kad quipped back ready for her quick wit for once. They had spent enough time together that the warrior did not expect her to remain silent. He looked to see if she had complied, but instead found that she had not turned her back at all. Another view of her form was his before hiding back in the thicket of the river bank. “I came straight here from the kill… I did not check the cave. You must know I would not dare impede on your privacy after my previous and inebriated indiscretion.”

There, Kad had said it, laid out that he still owned what he had done. A lot had passed since that night, but she would know that he had not forgotten the damage it had caused to their friendship. It was what had kept his hand still as they lay in the cave. Her words to him had stung. She was not a lesser woman, and not a simple conquest to him.

There was no answering her second remark. They both knew her capable of such, and Kad was grateful for the mercy she showed. Why she had at the beginning, he would never understand. Now, he was certain it was for the sake of their friendship. Kad would do anything to not lose her, in fact he had already. His own use of the force was something that had caused her discomfort, but was done for her. Kad was cowering behind a bush for her as well. His pride did not like the way he was hiding from her nude form. He even scoffed at the way he behaved like a young man unschooled in the ways of intimacy, yet he did.

Kad was not unaware as to why. The feelings he had for her demanded he treat her with dignity. While it was an insult to treat a Mandalorian female with any less regard than a male, Kad found that with Artemis he had to regard in some way as the woman she was.

She called to him when dressed and Kad stood regaining his proud stature.

“I was not skulking,” he said with a grin looking on her smile.

Artemis pressed him not to say a word, but Kad was too much in a good mood to worry about testing her. He picked up the small four legged creature he had managed to capture, and let his grin fall into a smirk. The look in his eye would tell Artemis something was coming. She would know the playfulness in his blue orbs all too well. They had nearly shared a kiss, and he found it ironic that he had seen her in all her glory before his lips had met hers.

“I can’t say anything? You come out of the water as if like a divine goddess new to the earth, and I am not allowed to comment. Tis a shame we hadn’t kissed that day I gave you your armor… perhaps I would be allowed to comment then.”

Like a young bull staking a claim Kad walked toward the cave triumphantly. Regardless of what Artemis did or said, he was like his old self again, the Kad everyone had known before Ralize had been taken. There was something freeing in simply being able to acknowledge the feelings he carried for Artemis, even if only to himself. Briika would pick up on it most definitely, but Kad was in love with the Lioness of Dxun. There was certainly no doubt.

The fire was to coals when they returned, and Kad promptly put the creature on a spit the moment he had it skinned. It was quick and thorough as if he was used to being in the woods alone. As soon as they ate they would need to find what they could salvage from the ship, and hunt for dinner. They would have another night at the cave, but Kad hoped it would be the last. His plan was not to be stranded. He would get Arty back to the moon they called home.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​