Symbiosis

[Artemis Lux]

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Artemis lied, sharp green eyes blazing up toward him in feigned incredulity. She hoped her expression conveyed genuine vexation, but as her gaze lingered on him, a coy spark ignited her features and brought the dimple in her cheek to the surface. “Even if I did, you should be so lucky.”

It was clear that Artemis knew exactly what Kad was talking about. The rough command of his fingers in her hair, the tender push of his nose against hers, the heat that filled the narrow space between their lips, just before they were mercifully interrupted by one of the children . . . she could not have forgotten the moment if she tried.

And she had tried.

The afternoon he gifted her with the new set of beskar’gam, crafted by the toil of his own hands, had been fraught with emotion. At the time, she blamed a temporary lapse in judgment for their near-kiss, dismissing it as nothing more than a flicker of weakness brought on by the sentiment of his grand gesture. Now, as she watched his impressive form stride away toward the cave, she knew better.

Theirs was a dangerous game. Artemis felt the cards she clutched against her heart precariously begin to slip, but she would be damned if she laid down her hand first. It seemed that Kad had beaten her to the draw.

You come out of the water as if a divine goddess new to the earth, he had said.

Was it a confession, or an attempt to disarm her incorrigible resolve? His brazen words had moved her, unsettled her, surprised her—reached down into the depths of her core and taken hold of her in such an honest and intimate manner as to leave her momentarily frozen. Artemis lingered at the shore while Kad disappeared inside the cave, but in her furiously working mind, he was still with her . . . reenacting the kiss that had never happened, but this time, carrying it through to completion.

Artemis blinked.

The rumbling of the waterfall, tuned out as white noise by her imagination, faded back into focus and restored her shrewd attention to the present. A frown curved at the bottom tier of her mouth.

What was she thinking?

Without any further acknowledgment or rumination, Artemis shook her dark head and resolved at once to leave her alarming thoughts at the river. Gathering her composure, she turned to move swiftly toward the encampment without looking back.

When she reemerged inside the cave, Kad had already skinned the kill and prepared it for roasting. As if bent on self-torture, the thought occurred to her that he was a consummate survivalist, and a true Mandalorian male—but she immediately volleyed these observations away.

“You’ve caught a fine breakfast,” Artemis remarked conversationally, attempting to mask the semi-awkwardness that still clung between them. As she lowered herself to recline at his side, the fire's warmth prickled over her dampened skin and crept in among her shining back ringlets, beginning the lengthy process of drying her soaked mane of hair. For a moment, all was silent, save for the embers crackling pleasantly beneath the readily cooking meal. Artemis forced her gaze to meet Kad's, offering him a subdued smile. “Thank you—for everything. I feel much better today.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad grinned at Artemis’ attempt to deny their near kiss. Of course she has had known what he was talking about, and the dimple which formed in her cheek when she made even the faintest hint of a smile told him otherwise. This game they were playing needed to come to a resolution before Kad found himself going insane. Things were happening between them, feelings were developing, but the proud Lioness refused to allow them to speak about them. It was the thing that frustrates him the most about her, and even that Kad found that he loved about her.

The warrior had stopped trying to deny his feelings when the ten days in the forge had not forgotten them. There was something to what he felt that seemed to hold on, and the harder he tried to forget, the hard it held tight. Kad knew his feelings and had admitted them to himself. It was why his comment had been so bold. There was no reason he felt he should suffer any repercussions for telling her she looked like a goddess. While it was not how a Mandalorian female wanted to be viewed, Kad had only broken from that protocol twice.

He wanted to say more, but Artemis seemed lost in her own thoughts as if in another place or time entirely. Kad knew she was wrestling with what she felt. Her deflection was a sure sign she didn't know what she wanted, or did and still had not admitted it to herself. Kad was patient these days, unlike the impatient inebriate Artemis had once known.

Kad left her to her thoughts as he worked on preparing the kill to roast. Once they had eaten they would salvage what they could from the ship and attempt to place a rescue beacon on all Mandalorian frequencies. Still, as as the food cooked, and Artemis walked into the cave, Kad had found he could not look away. His mind still saw the feminine curves of her naked form despite the fact she was now clothed. She had been a warrior to him only until now. The Lioness now had a distinctly feminine way about her underneath the image she projected, and Kad could see it.

It was there as her gaze met his. Kad wondered if she would ever try to hide it from him again. He found himself wishing, hoping she would not. It had been accident, but the one event had allowed Kad an intimate view of her person, and the person which she did not allow the world to see.

The silence was unbearable, but Kad could not break it. It had likely been his comment which had caused it, and the responsibility to reply was now with the woman who reclined next to him.

He nodded when she finally did speak. His breath had hitched without his knowledge. A Sith released what he had been holding onto when her words were of gratitude and nothing about her anger at what had just happened. Kad closed his eyes and briefly thanked the Manda. The silence returned however as he finished cooking the kill.

“We are playing a dangerous game, Artemis,” Kad said not expecting an answer. The warrior simply could not stand allowing their awkward tension be an unspoken issue any longer. This would not alleviate it, but it would give them no excuse to deny it. “And I am happy you feel well.”

Kad could not make speeches, or did he try. He found his words failing him when he did it want them to. His mind simply refused.

His hand gripped his knife and cut into the meat, and as the affectionate warrior he was, offered it to Artemis first. “You will need your strength for the work ahead of us today.”

He could. It bring himself to tell her her how he felt, not with with his words. Kad spoke through what he did for her, each gesture, each look, and the subtle way he placed his head to hers. He wanted to do exactly that in the moment, but this time he let it pass. They needed to eat.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Love, for an ordinary woman, elicited the inescapably trite sensation of butterflies and often resulted in starry-eyed glances and coquettish smiles. Artemis was not an ordinary woman, nor was her reaction to the growing truth inside her heart so maudlin and uninteresting. She felt frightened, vexed, and murderous, in that order. It wasn’t that the prospect of letting Kad through her iron wall was so terrible. Rather, it was that giving him residence inside the most sacred temple of her soul meant letting go of its former tenant—the memory of her husband. Covenanting that part of herself to Kad meant accepting that Balon was truly gone.

The thought alone felt like a betrayal, but somewhere deep inside her consciousness, Artemis knew that if her husband could speak from the grave, he would have rebuked her for her stubbornness and convinced her of just the opposite. Aliit ori'shya tal'din, Ar’ika, he would have recited. Family is more than blood. For a culture so steeped in violence and war, love was paramount. Artemis could not quell the slowly burgeoning notion that she was being selfish. The tenants of Resol’nare demanded that she soldier forward and continue Mandalore’s legacy of mighty warriors, but the stake Kad claimed in her heart went far deeper than mere duty or honor.

As her sharp attention flickered over to the goran at her side . . . over the robust angles of his face, the lethal composition of his soldier’s build, and the inexorable kindness in his eyes. . . it was self-evident that there was no other mate for Artemis than Kad. For so long, the stiff fortification of her pride had prevented her from acknowledging it, and even now prevented her from admitting it—but it was more than just pride. It was fear. The Lioness, though fierce in her own right, was not too brave to fear losing another love. Her every self-denial, her every bristle and scathing riposte, served as barricades around the vulnerability she could not bring herself to bare. Not at the risk of losing Kad.

We’re playing a dangerous game, Artemis.

As his voice broke her reverie, Artemis was chagrined to realize that she had not left her troubling thoughts down by the river at all—she had carried them with her to the cave and was nearly drowning in them. The act of baring herself before him at the waterfall had burst open a floodgate she had grudgingly kept suppressed, and the implication of Kad’s words only added to her vexation.

For a moment, discerning emerald eyes merely held his gaze, guarded and wary in the firelight. I know, she seemed to say, but her lips remained staunchly silent as to any other understanding that might have passed between them.

Artemis felt grateful when he changed the subject—their breakfast was ready.

The venison was tender and cooked just right, filling the cave with a gamey, flavorful aroma. Artemis settled in to wait her turn to eat, busying her hands—and her mind—with taming her wild curls. She began to weave a thick halo-braid around the crown of her head . . . only to abruptly stop. Kad had already set aside the first cut for her tasting and was offering it for her to take. Artemis faltered, slowly dropping her hands and allowing her hair to splash down around her shoulders. She wanted to feel peeved at him for his damnably unfailing attentiveness—it was more than mere attentiveness—but she found a small smile pulling at her cheek instead. She nodded and accepted the morsel gratefully.

“This is delicious,” Artemis remarked, between a delicate bite. For such a formidable woman, her adherence to dining etiquette was almost comical. She steadily worked through her portion until finished, before returning to business. She glanced out toward the mouth of the cave, noting that the sun had risen high. It must have been midday. “We need to scavenge the ship for supplies, assuming we’ll be stuck on this rock for much longer. I know it has a medkit, blankets, and possibly some rescue beacons. I was out cold from the time we broke the planet’s atmosphere until I woke up in here—I don’t have the faintest idea where we crashed, so it’s up to you to get us there.” Green eyes flashed back to him as she rose. “Following you.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

The pair ate in more silence than Kad knew was comfortable. He knew it was because the two of them had finally admitted that something was happening. Artemis had a look in her eyes which told him she knew despite the lack of an answer. She had answered, her eyes more expressive than what they had been when they first met. Artemis hadn't changed. Kad just read them better, and they had become more open to his searching than when they had first met. He just nodded, feeling the tension repealed enough to make it bearable with the thought in the open.

Kad not Artemis had confessed any feelings, but they had admitted enough to know what they were doing was not only happening, but anything from this point forward would be intentional. It gave Kad the freedom to court the woman the way any Mandalorian woman deserved, and it gave Artemis the freedom to accept it or spurn it. For his own part his mind was made up. Should they escape the planet, Kad’s attentions would not subside.

“The ship is not far. I would have used the scrap to build a shelter for us, but no water. I prayed to the Manda with every step that I had to move you because I didn't know the extent of your injuries. You are a remarkably strong and stubborn Mando’ad however, and you fought until you came to.”

Kad smiled as he ripped his piece of meat with his teeth. The smoke from the wood fire added something to the meat that did not come from any other method of cooking. He has never felt so alive than he did at the moment having cheated death once more to survive a new day. He could only agree their efforts needed to focus on the salvage of the ship. The scrap could remain, but the supplies they needed for their time there would be useful.

When they had finished eating, Kad led the way to the ship. Artemis seemed to have even more of a stride than she had earlier in the morning. Kad’s ability to heal was limited, but it had worked. The woman had no problems keeping up, or so it seemed. She would not want him to fuss over her any more than he already had. It would only be natural for him to be concerned, but he knew when not to show it. She was a warrior after all, and that was above all else.

The wreckage had been situated closer to the top of the mountain they were on in a dense forest. Pieces of the metal hull were scattered about the woods leading to a large crater where the ship had torn into the earthen surface of the planet. Charred remains of plant life marked where the fire had once been from the crash which Kad had fought in order to see them out safely. The supplies would be strewn out across the woods, and with little time to nightfall they would still need to hunt before they could retreat to the safety of their cave.

“If you find the medical supplies I will set the rescue beacons. If the power supply wasn't damaged we may be able to set a running distress signal as well.”

With a nod as though he had given orders to a soldier, Kad shifted into full survival mode. It was the only way he would not worry about Artemis’ injuries for the rest of the day, nor replat the image of her nude figure rising from the water with her bes’kad in hand. Who was Kad kidding… he would never have that scene out of his mind.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

A wry smile curved at the corner of her lips when Kad called her strong, stubborn, a fighter—high praise from one Mandalorian to another, even more meaningful than his christening her a goddess. It wasn’t the first time she’d been described with those words or very close synonyms, all referencing her bellicose nature, and it wouldn’t be the last. If the woman was a goddess of anything, it would have been the goddess of war. She was hard, strong, Mandalorian to the core.

“I don’t give up so easily,” Artemis replied, feline eyes glinting knowingly as they prepared to embark on the salvage expedition. No one was as familiar with her obstinacy as Kad, but from her subtle tone, it wasn’t clear whether her words referenced her recovery from the crash or alluded to something else entirely.

With their armor donned and weapons at the ready, man and woman departed the cave and set out toward the crest of the mountain, just north of their encampment. Lush blooms of greenery draped the rugged landscape and made for a scenic hike: thick undergrowth burst around craggy boulders, while tall shoots of trees pushed determinedly out of the earth in defiance of their precipitous incline. Little to no humidity hung in the chilled atmosphere, which was tempered only by the afternoon sun that shimmered benevolently through the foliage and onto their working backs.

As they climbed higher and higher, blood pumping to fuel their muscles, Artemis savored the crisp, unadulterated air that rushed in and out of her lungs. Matching Kad’s pace would have been difficult for her under normal circumstances, given their vast disparity in height and leg span, but her efforts were further complicated by her still recovering body. The lofty elevation only caused her to become woozy once, but Artemis was a tenacious creature of honed fitness—despite her weakened state, she persevered without a word and summoned the wealth of her endurance to keep time with her counterpart’s long strides.

“—is that the ship?”

They had reached what could have only been the mangled carcass of their doomed cruiser, but from the look of its badly twisted and charred metal, Artemis found herself wondering how in Manda’s name they had survived—then she remembered.

Kad had protected them.

Artemis silently cursed away the indeterminable swell that had risen in her chest. She had done more unnecessary dwelling in half a day than she estimated she had in her entire life and would not deign to dwell anymore. They had work to do.

When Kad doled out their instructions, for once she merely nodded and turned to comply. She was grateful for the distraction—for something useful and productive to occupy her hands and mind—and immediately set to work combing the forested vicinity for any scattered trace of supplies. As the shadows stretched long across the ground, one hour passing after the other, Artemis was gratified to uncover the medkit, a canteen, and one thin blanket.

The sun had already begun its slow descent from daytime into the golden hour when at last their work was complete. The glowing orb bid the world adieu in a blaze of brilliant color, washing over the horizon in a watercolor sunset of pink and orange, striated with curling rivulets of purple. Night would soon arrive, and with it, their need to hunt for the next meal. For one precious moment, however, Artemis paused and stood still. A reverent breath escaped her lips as she absorbed the majesty of their surroundings, coming to stand at Kad’s side. Artemis turned to the goran and smiled, a vigorous mountain wind whipping through the glory of her raven hair like a banner. “Wherever we are . . .” She murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

No, Artemis did not give up easily. Kad was aware of the double meaning her word could have. However, she didn't clarify and Kad chose to take it to mean her resolve to not die. He was painfully aware of what courting her would be asking of them both. They had given themselves to another once before only to lose them. Their hearts still hurt for their loved ones, but at the same time there remained a void. Kad had started it, but the void was shrinking because of what each meant to the other.

Working alone had given them the space they needed to clear their minds. Kad knew with another night together, he would not be able to lay with Artemis for the sake of warmth without picturing her body without it. He would still, but the tension had hopefully subsided to the point which would ensure it would not be awkward.

He worked his way around the debris until he found what remained of the cockpit. His eyes searched the rubble for any sign of the rescue beacons. The homing beacon in their armor would guide the rescue party, but only if they could make it to the planet's surface. Laying in his back, Kad had managed to rewire what of the console remained to find it still was drawing power. He let out a holler of excitement at the sight. Kad set the rescue beacon, and stood to find the sun was setting.

Kad walked back toward the cave and stopped where both he and Artemis had met. He watched as the sky changed colors, the clouds displaying the reds and oranges of the early sunset. Soon it would dim and take on the pinks and purples, but it was not the sunset which completely held Kad’s attention. As Artemis commented about the beauty of the world they had landed he simply replied. “Yes…”

There was no time to determine whether he was referring to her or the sunset. Kad knew it was dangerous to mean both, but the sounds coming from the thicket nearby was disturbing. In a few seconds a rather large boar like creature appeared looking to charge. It's tusks were a beautiful ivory, but looked sharp and deadly. A grin pulled at his cheek as Kad looked to Artemis.

“It thinks it is hunting us,” Kad laughed as he drew his hammer. “I killed breakfast. Shall I play the distraction so you can kill dinner?”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

As the horizon burned around them, Artemis found she could not break the gaze she shared with Kad. She refused to indulge in fairytales and hokum, but there was something undeniably dreamlike about their plight—something almost magical about being stranded in such a beautiful, mysterious place, hidden away like a jewel from the rest of the galaxy’s chaos. After so much death and destruction, the nameless planet felt like a refuge.

Their refuge.

Sharp emerald eyes fractionally softened as Artemis followed the play of waning light and shadow moving across Kad’s chiseled features. She could not determine whether the peculiar sensation of contentment that crept over her fighter’s heart came from the peaceful environs, or from the company of the goran at her side. The infuriatingly stubborn part of her that still clung to the thick shell of her pride didn’t want to know the answer, but the other part of her—the part that had woken to the truth—already did. It was the same part of her that almost balked at the notion of their rescue beacons picking up signal.

“Kad, I—”

Artemis claimed a bold step forward and parted her lips to speak, but whatever words prepared to tumble out were lost to a sudden rustling from the woods. She immediately stepped back, the interruption restoring her sharp senses. Dark head whipped around in a fan of streaming curls to face the source of the noise, feline attention poised and at the ready.

“What was that?” Artemis demanded. No sooner than she posed the question, a mighty beast burst out of the undergrowth and snorted in a manner that suggested he was not entirely pleased with their trespassing. She recognized the creature as something akin to a boar: short, bristly hairs covered its compact body, which sat low to the ground on powerful legs, but what it lacked in stature it compensated for in the lethal, half-moon tusks that curved angrily from its snout. As one sharpened hoof dug into the ground, it became apparent that the devil was going to charge.

“I don’t think animals like you very much,” Artemis murmured dryly, remembering their all-too similar encounter with the Zakkeg back on Dxun. Lithe fingers wrapped comfortably around the beskad that hung at the flare of her hip. As if sensing the huntress’ intentions, the boar let loose a high, keening wail and plunged forward. Artemis had only one thing to say in response to Kad’s goading—

“Run!”

Off they flew into the rapidly descending night!

The beast chased after the man, and the woman chased after the beast. Exhilaration flooded Artemis’ veins as she twisted, leapt, and tore through the cathedral of trees, vivid green eyes focused not only on the charging boar, but on Kad’s shining blonde head as he sprinted deeper and deeper into the forest like a young buck. It was unlike her to smile in the midst of business—she was a sensible woman with no tolerance for showmanship—but hunting with Kad wasn’t business at all. It was joy. The dimple surfaced in her cheek as they pressed wildly onward beneath the emergent stars, closer and more alive than they had ever been.

The time to kill ripened as they neared the river’s gorge. Cornered, the enraged boar squealed and scraped against the shoreline rocks to find the escape that did not exist. It knew what was coming. The Lioness, predatory and leonine as her namesake, sauntered in to stake her claim.

With a mighty cry, Artemis—heedless to any pain her body still felt from the crash—sprang forward in one deadly pirouette of her sword-arm, severing the beast’s thick head from its stocky shoulders. The tusked skull fell to the earth with a sickening thud, crimson fluid gushing from the stump where its neck should have been. At its side, the rotund body twitched once, twice, before fading into fatal stillness.

The creature was dead, but Artemis’ spirit was anything but. Jade eyes glittered ferociously in the moonlight, primitive instinct still slaking over her dampened skin and charging her lissome muscles with electric heat. Though her breathing came heavily, she felt as though she could run for twenty more miles and slay twenty more beasts, and the defiant smile that wreathed the curve of her lips said as much—a triumphant warrior queen.

When her gaze sought his, unspoken emotion would pass between them. Anything she feared to say in daylight and without the spur of adrenaline would become outstandingly clear in the flash of a moment. Her cheek pulled with a smile.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad hadn't known what Artemis was about to say, but her eyes had borne enough feeling that it caused his breath to cease and his heart to leap into his throat. There had been enough which had transpired since the crash, and the change of environment, which put life in a different perspective. It was tempting to hide from the galaxy in the shelter they had found, their sanctuary, but in the end Kad would always feel the pull to his people. One thing Kad did know however was that whatever Artemis was about to say, he already felt the same.

The chase interrupted everything. It wasn't fair to the poor creature that had stumbled upon them. While Kad or Artemis could have easily killed the creature alone, together the two would simply tease it before putting it out of its misery. This was not about survival for them, it was about sport.

Kad and Artemis has always been free to be honest during the hunt. It was their first kill together which had forged a bond between them. The first hunt had seen Kad make his first blow against the ironclad fortress which protected the fragile heart of such a ferocious huntress. As he leaped about the woods like a proud stag without a care in the world, Kad’s mind replayed their first intimate touch at the waterfall with the severed head of the zakkeg in hand. A smile pulled at his mouth as the beast was cornered and it's fate the same as that first night more than a month past.

A deep baritone chuckle was Kad’s reply to Artemis. “Am I hungry? I could put away an entire bantha and still have plenty of room for uj cake,” he laughed.

As their eyes met, Kad's laugh quieted. There was something there which had not been before. It was etched on her face, and shouting from the depths of her soul. Her eyes boasted of what her words could not say.

There was not much which could bring pause to the rugged warrior. Yet the Hammer of Enceri had been brought to his knees by one gaze from the omnipotent emeralds which belonged to the Lioness of Dxun. His gaze returned the raw emotion their words had yet to say. The gaze strong and unyielding, told Artemis a single truth. Kad Tor belonged to her, his heart, his hammer, his soul.

Kad would never be able to recount the journey back to the cave, only that he sang yet another tale of their fabled names. His children would sing those songs, and the more Kad dwelt on it he knew their children would sing those songs.

As the meat cooked over the fire, Kad removed his armor. It was dark, and they would not leave the cave for the night. His heart was happy, and his stomach empty. It roared like an angry lion as the aroma of the succulent meat wafted to his nose. He sat near the meat and watched as the grease dropped into the hot coals with a sizzle.

“We should not wait so long until our next hunt. The game of Dxun have certainly been fortunate that we have been so distracted,” he said as the weave of his kute was pushed to his waist baring his torso once more. “You come alive… though you have more kills than me at this point… and my pride won't stomach it.”

Kad laughed, his teasing meant to keep the mood light. He wanted to enjoy the night and the kill, but most of all he wanted to enjoy Artemis’ company.

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

Something was happening, and Artemis—proud, unconquerable Artemis—was powerless to stop it. The notion of even trying to stop it had fled far from her mind, if only for one precious night. Hunting worked strange magic on her fighter’s heart. It acted like a key, unlocking the rigid wall she kept firmly rooted around herself, and melted her glacial self-restraint into warm, freely flowing passion. As a consummate daughter of Mandalore, her love for the hunt, for the chase, for the fight ran deep—but with Kad, it ran even deeper still.

Hunting was their language of honesty. Since their first expedition into the jungles of Dxun, the most truthful they had ever been with each other, and with themselves, did not involve words at all. Rather, it manifested in the way that they looked at each other in the heat of the hunt, in the way that they plunged headfirst into danger without fear of the consequences, knowing that the other was close at their side. It was no coincidence that the first mirshmure’cya they had shared came after they slayed the Zakkeg.

If Artemis’ defenses had fallen then, it was nothing compared to now. Their wild tear after the boar through the forest had left her starry-eyed and euphoric, open and exposed in a manner that the fierce, hardened mando’dala would have never before indulged—but this time, it wasn’t just the hunt that stripped down her defenses. Kad Tor had arrived, guns blazing and banner drawn, to the fortress of her soul and would not be denied entry. He had fought valiantly for his claim, and tonight . . . he had won.

Artemis’ eyes would tell him as much. Three long, embittered years had passed since her sharp emeralds beamed so deeply with adoration. No man save her husband had enjoyed the look she gave Kad while he sang, marking their trek to the cave with the rich, buoyant tones of his voice. As her gaze flickered up to him through the darkness, there would be no doubt as to who held sway over the Lioness’s mighty heart.

When they reentered the cave, hunter and huntress walked nearly as one.

“Your pride?” Artemis questioned through a laugh, raising an eyebrow. The coy smile that dimpled her cheek would betray her teasing. “I can’t claim to apologize. You’ll simply have to fight me for the kill next time—or ask for it politely.”

Without missing a beat, and emboldened by the energy still coursing through her veins, Artemis unclasped her armor and allowed each gilded plate to drop to the floor. The elegant curves and finely-cut muscles with which the goran’s eyes had become acquainted were once more set free in the fitted pants and midriff of her kute. Exposed abdominals expanded and contracted beneath her olive skin, moving with the luxuriant sigh that escaped her lips.

“I could hunt until the sun rises,” Artemis breathed. She ran her fingers through the tangles of her rebellious curls, allowing them to tumble as dark and wild as the night sky down her shoulders. Intelligent green eyes opened and found that Kad had also abandoned his armor, and at least part of his kute, for bare skin. It was more than the aesthetic appeal of his hewn sinews and ligaments that stirred her blood—as between warriors, it was an appreciation for the strength that lay packed within. Suddenly, Artemis found she wanted to be near him. She moved to join him by the crackling fire.

“Tonight was magnificent,” She remarked, their shoulders brushing as she lowered herself to his side. The rare warmth of her smile found his face as she turned to regard him. “You put on quite the show. I wasn’t sure if you were running from the boar, or from me.” Green eyes flashed cleverly, a momentary silence falling as the fire popped. She held his gaze. "Do I frighten you so much, Kad'ika?"

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Her retort elicited a chuckle from the proud goran whose eyes could not move from the emerald gaze which had confessed her feelings to him. There was a smile which stretched across Kad’s face, not because of her feigned attempt to wound him, but because of what Artemis had allowed her soul to confess. Kad Tor, the mighty hunter, had captured his prize. A hunt of another kind had been won, and Kad proved the victor.

“My pride shall survive this night, I think,” he said with eyes glowing. “You have gotten your prize, but I have captured one of considerable more worth.”

They had broken from each other long enough to remove their armor and get comfortable, and from where Kad had been seated he watched as Artemis finished. Kad was more familiar with this form than Artemis had intended for him to be, but in the thrill of the hunt whatever awkwardness that had risen from the morning was gone. He saw only the warrior goddess before him, a woman as fierce as she was beautiful. A warrior could only be so lucky, and Kad would not count himself as anything less. The Manda had smiled upon him after seeing his plight, and Kad could not be more grateful.

Kad spoke his daily remembrance as Artemis teased the wild curls of her head with her fingers. He had never once failed to keep his promise to remember her husband and son as though they were his own kin. In this way he honored them, and was spared the guilt which could have kept him from pursuing her. A time would come when he would make a promise to them, but until that day came Kad simply remembered them as the mighty warriors they were.

There was a warmth between Kad and Artemis as she brushed her shoulder against his. Flesh brushed against flesh in a soft and defenseless manner. There was nothing between them now. They did not hide from each other or guard themselves. All had been said save for actual words which Kad did not need to hear. They would come when they came, and no sooner.

“As could I,” Kad replied as he regarded her gaze once more. He felt invincible with her at his side. The boar was dead before it had stepped out of the roughage as far as Kad was concerned. With Artemis at his side, they would not fail. There was no regard for his safety. All that had mattered was the hunt. It was their world, their way of communing. It was as if the two became one in those shared moments, and it was why the hunt was always more exhilarating when Artemis was with him.

A smirk pulled at his lips. Artemis was flirting, and even then she was an imposing figure. There was something in her eyes though. As she spoke, Kad was drawn in, held captive as if by her will. She had paralyzed him. Where he would want to press his head to her, to share yet another mirshmure’cya Kad could not move.

“You put on quite the show. I wasn’t sure if you were running from the boar, or from me.”

Kad looked deep into her eyes then as he tried to move in the silent pause she spoke again.

“Do I frighten you so much, Kad'ika?"

There was a pregnant pause, not long, but something was there. As much as he knew he loved her, wanted her, she had yet to say anything to him which regarded him as anything more than a dear friend. His eyes broke from hers to look at the meat. How he hoped it had been ready to eat. Looking back to her he shook his head.

“No…” he said. “I am terrified,” he would say had the courage been there. He had almost lost her, and feared the day it should ever happen.

Kad put a smile on his face and nudged her shoulder.

“I was just seeing if you could keep up with me,” he retorted. A chuckle passed his lips as he leaned forward to cut the meat with his knife. It seemed done, and he passed the morsel to Artemis for her approval.

“It always tastes better when you've killed it yourself. Today it is even sweeter because we have laughed in the face of death once again and survived.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

The coy question lingered in the charged space between them, the same space that grew unnervingly smaller every day. From where she was perched, close at his side, Artemis watched Kad move closer but made no motion to retreat from him. Under ordinary circumstances she would have rebuffed him with all of the cool (albeit feigned) indifference of a small cat. Tonight was different. Artemis held her ground, olive eyes glinting in both an invitation and a challenge for the goran as he nearly closed the divide that kept the emotion they suppressed at bay. The hunt had emboldened them both, and all at once Artemis felt the too-familiar warmth of his breath coalescing with her own. She smiled, welcoming it.

But alas—like other moments they had shared, or come dangerously close to sharing, it was cut short before fruition. Kad pulled away and slipped back into his easy, boyish manner of joking, sparing her from what would have been an almost certain doom—a doom from which even her most cunning mind was having trouble forming an escape. At this particular moment, however, Artemis was not thinking about escaping.

His retort made her laugh. Artemis raised both brows and inclined her head in wry acknowledgement. “Of course you were,” She replied indulgently, a dimple pulling at the clever slant of her mouth. Her shrewd gaze, tempered with amusement, remained on him when he returned his attention to their slow-cooking meal. For a moment, Artemis simply took him in. There was nothing pompous or self-affected about Kad. She did not have to untangle carefully crafted webs to see through to his true demeanor, as she was accustomed from a life of politics and war. After a while, and after all that she had lost, such a counterfeit course of dealing grew tiresome and exhausting.

Not Kad. He was consistently, reliably, effortlessly himself—whether it was reveling in the thrill of the hunt or teasing her like a teenaged boy without fear of repercussions. He humbled Artemis and broke down her cold wall of dignity. As much as it, ironically, disturbed her, Kad brought restfulness to her wounded soul—he brought her peace.

Artemis took the sample of their meal that Kad offered and tasted it, lashes lowering as she relished the rich, gamey flavor. “You’re right—this is perfect,” She remarked, nodding in approval before moving to help Kad prepare the rest of the animal for carving. It was a casual exchange, domestic. For once, Artemis was too in-the-moment to rebuke herself for enjoying it. The fire crackled pleasantly as they settled in to begin their meal—it was truly delicious. Artemis savored each bite before flickering her sharp gaze back over to Kad.

“I didn’t realize that gorans were so domestic,” She quipped, emerald eyes flashing. “What exactly did they teach you in Enceri? You would put the men of Keldabe to shame—they hunt mostly for sport and rarely see their own kill over a fire.” Artemis smiled. “I suppose that’s the consequence of growing up in the city.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Her gaze continued to challenge him. While she had rebuffed him several times in the past, and the same gaze which had warned him not to come any closer now dared him to try. It was tempting, and had she not asked if he was a fraud of her Kad may have tried. There was a truth to the question which Kad had wanted to ignore, but now that it was asked he could not. Kad was terrified because it was right, and he knew his future belonged to her. It wasn't the fear which made him want to retreat, but the fear which made him tread carefully lest he push her away.

He faltered, but would not if the challenge came again. The adrenaline was still strong from the hunt, and it gave him a boldness where he would not otherwise have it. It was not all that dissimilar to being inebriated, the only difference being he was fully clear and sober of mind.

Kad could only smile as she tasted the meat and enjoyed it. Artemis was frank enough to tell him the truth even if she did not like it. When she stepped in to help him finish prepping the beast to carve, Kad didn't stop her. Even though they were trapped in a cave it felt normal to him, another reason he was terrified. Allowing her access to this part of him was easy, as easy as it had been with Ralize.

There was flash of fire in his eyes when Artemis called him domestic. A smirk pulled at his face as a retort formed, only confirmed by her choice of questioning. What did they teach him in Enceri.

“The men of Enceri learned what they had to in order to survive. It's not domestic, just a way of life. Hands that can kill with ferocity, cook with precision, and craft beskar with the fine grace of the armor you wear are hands skilled in many ways you have yet to discern.”

Kad's blue gaze caught Artemis’ for a moment long enough for her to understand his meaning. He had never dared to flirt with her in this way since his drunken proposition, but she had emboldened him.

“We worked hard. Everyone had a farm, a trade, and were warriors. It wasn't expected, it just was. Life was simpler despite the seeming complexity of having to do it all. It is a life I had wished for my sons. The city was much different… life moved faster, and that is a pace I can't say I enjoyed. This…” Kad said indicating their predicament, the fire, the beast which was almost picked clean and the dwindling flame… “is much more preferable to that.”

A yawn escaped Kad’s mouth. He was tired, but relaxed. A small smiled pulled at his mouth as he looked at Artemis.

“You would have been a perfect maiden of the mountains. They have always been as capable as our men.”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

A female of more delicate constitution might have taken offense to the goran’s insinuation, but not Artemis. She was surprised but pleased with his growing boldness. It baited her, luring her in like so many breadcrumbs along the narrow path that spanned between them, sparking something inside of her that wanted more. Neither Artemis nor Kad dared to cross the line, but both danced precariously close to the edge.

As they sat together by the light of the fire, Artemis found she was enjoying their dance. More notably, however, she found she was enjoying Kad. His blue eyes shone bright in the dim ambiance of the cave, that devilish but tender charm seeming to invite her to play. Rather than fighting it as she had before, Artemis accepted the invitation.

“Is that right?” She answered in challenge to his flirtatious endeavor, but it was clear that she was amused. She raised an eyebrow. “Do go on.”

While Kad described his life in Enceri, Artemis’ amusement melted into a peculiar sensation of warmth. The sensation grew as she listened to him recall the things that he loved about home, the things that he missed. Her lips curved into a quiet smile. Kad’s rustic upbringing was no secret to her: he was wild as a buck but unfailingly steady, hardworking and staunchly rooted in humility despite his formidable array of skills, as deadly toward his foes as he was loving toward his family. Artemis was familiar with all of these traits and had grown alarmingly fond of them, but hearing Kad speak so candidly about them now felt somehow different.

Over time, they had come to share bits and pieces of their lives with one another, but most of what they shared came as fragmented anecdotes while performing other tasks—short stories and stolen moments in-between the duties they owed the Mando’ade. There was little time for intimate conversations when there was work to do and wars to fight. Artemis had not made the task any easier. Work and war aside, she had gone out of her way to avoid such intimate conversations and made an infuriating habit out of volleying away any of Kad's attempts. She knew what would happen if they delved too deeply together, only now, Artemis no longer avoided it. Something had changed.

She laughed at his closing remark.

“I pity the man who would tell any Mandalorian woman otherwise,” Artemis quipped, but her tone held no malice. She knew his words came as high praise and could not quell the rise in her chest that swelled in response. “Life in the country sounds . . . liberating. An ideal place for a free man.” Artemis paused, looking up to him. “Being out here suits you,” She remarked after a moment, smiling. It was as much a compliment to him as his words had been to her.

“You must have loved Enceri very much," She continued, returning her attention to the flickering flames. "I only visited the outskirts of the city to hunt with my father, or when he took us on holiday. Keldabe was our home. I thrived on the excitement of the city—too much for my father’s taste. I was always slipping into government buildings where I had no business being, or getting lost among the foreign vendors that lined Chortav Meshurkaane on market days. I learned Huttese at eleven, simply from sitting with an old street merchant at his stall and pestering him to teach me for over a week.”

Artemis laughed. Her dark curls shone exuberantly in the firelight as she shook her head, remembering.

“My father was angry when he discovered what I’d been up to, but I think part of him was secretly pleased. He had me in the finest schools Keldabe had to offer—learning the humanities, the arts, sparring, diplomacy, even how to be a lady, if you can imagine—yet there I was. Wild and unruly as the day I was born.”

Artemis turned from the fire and looked up to Kad. Her voice grew quiet, but it held no sadness.

“I was all my father had, you see. My mother passed bringing me into the world, and my twin brother with her. My father clung to me, and I clung to the city.”

She smiled softly and shrugged.

“So much has happened since then—so much destruction and war. Keldabe is all but rubble now, or so I’ve been told. I’ll remain loyal to my city and my people until the day I die. But all of the chaos . . .”

Her voice trailed off for a moment. While they had been talking, the fire had begun to dwindle. It gave one last resourceful pop before making its slow descent into molten ash. Artemis sighed, suppressing a contagious yawn with the back of her hand.

“. . . all of the chaos is enough to make me want to start over, somewhere open and clean and pure. Somewhere like this.”

She looked around their cavernous sanctuary before slowly returning her gaze to Kad. He looked as content as she felt. A knowing look filled her intelligent olive eyes.

“If we make it back to Mandalore,” She murmured, “perhaps I’ll have my chance at mountain life yet.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

Kad grinned when his flirtatious words seemed to be appropriate, or at least that Artemis was not trying to kill him for them. Perhaps there would have been a time when they would have earned him a slap to his face, but now it seemed the two had an understanding of their relationship. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, but the way Artemis had been looking at him since their trek through the woods, it was different. She had conveyed a thing the two still had not put to words.

The silent understanding between them seemed fitting. As Kad thought about their relationship he could not find a single moment where they used words to describe what they were. Whether they were defined as friends, or more, or not, the two had never determined such things by stated definition. They simply were, and that was fine with Kad. There was only one moment they would need words to define anything, and Kad would not be one to simply let the ridurrok escape his lips vainly.

The more they talked the closer they became in the few moments they had left of the firelight. He chuckled as he pictured a curly haired Artemis pestering a merchant until she got what she wanted. “Even then you were a tenacious lion cub,” he said with a smile that conveyed his affection for her.

Kad nodded when the conversation turned to the heavy weight of their home planet. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as thoughts of his parents being buried under the hardened lava filled his mind. For a brief moment the back of his head rest against the cold stone of the cave wall. His eyes turned heavenward as he fought the tears which threatened to come. The proud warrior was tired, but stubborn enough to keep Artemis from seeing him cly like a weak child.

Letting another breath go, Kad released his guilt to the force, and smiled again as Artemis words had drawn him back to her. Her eyes always had a way of making him feel alive, and happy for being so.

“If that is what you wish, then I promise it will be yours,” Kad said in the dim light of the coals still flickered about without a flame to mask their glowing red hue. He reached to take her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. “Enceri is worse than Keldabe I hear. It will never be the beautiful home it once was, but it will always be in my heart. However, I find that Dxun has become as much a home to me as Enceri ever was, and I am certain that this cave could be as well.”

Kad’s eyes broke Artemis hold on them for the briefest of moments before he found them again.

“I find that there is nothing I cannot bear as long as the Lioness of Dxun is by my side.”

His statement could have been presumptuous had it not been for the moments they had shared leading up to this. They had been through to much for Kad to leave it unsaid.

“And I would not have it any other way,” he said as another yawn broke his thoughts. “Though perhaps I may allow sleep to steal me since my Lioness is so near…”

[member="Artemis Lux"]​

 

[Artemis Lux]

The deeper implication of Kad’s words was not lost on Artemis. It prompted a subdued smile at the corner of her mouth, dimpling her cheek, but she made no motion to speak. What could she have said? Artemis knew the answer and dismissed it readily. Even if she had chosen that moment for her admission, the unexpected but not unwelcome sensation of Kad’s fingers taking possession of her own momentarily stole her words away.

What she did not acknowledge with her words, however, Artemis acknowledged with her eyes. The sharp emerald of her gaze held him as tenderly as he held her hand, revealing the kaleidoscope of emotions that played out across her otherwise composed features. Her composure, usually so stalwart and staunch, seemed thinner than usual. What once stood as an impermeable wall, now appeared more like a semi-translucent veil that could fall away with a single breath. Artemis stood stock still, acutely aware of this dangerous fact.

“You’re tired,” She replied after a moment, breaking the long silence. “We both are.”

The simple response might have seemed barren and stark, even cold, were it not for what Artemis did next. In one fleeting motion—so subtle and quick as to be easily missed—the woman brushed her thumb across the back of the man’s hand and gave him a gentle pull toward her, commanding but soft.

“Come to bed,” Artemis said simply, holding his gaze. With nothing more, she released his hand and lowered herself to the cool earthen floor, curling up like a small cat beside the dying red embers. A chill might have crept down her shoulders had Kad not joined her at her back. Artemis closed her eyes and smiled, neither moving closer nor moving away. Knowing he was there was enough.

Merciful slumber stole over them both. If Artemis woke throughout the night, she didn’t remember. Daybreak found her as entwined with Kad as she had been the previous morning, but this time, it wasn’t Kad’s voice or their intimate proximity that jolted her awake. It was the distant sound of humming—the sort that ships make when they break landfall—and a disjointed chorus of shouting over comlinks.

Artemis stirred—slowly at first, then all once. It took only a moment for her to register what was happening. Lashes snapped open as she immediately pushed herself to seated, narrowing her eyes toward the bright mouth of the cave as the mist cleared from her vision. “Rescue ships,” She breathed quietly, before her voice strengthened. “Rescue ships—Kad!” Artemis whirled over her shoulder in a fan of black curls and pressed her palm against the slumbering goran’s cheek, but she just as soon faltered.

For the briefest moment, Artemis was disturbed at her reluctance to wake him—disturbed at her reluctance to leave what had become their sanctuary. The planet, whatever planet it was, had born witness to something that Artemis did not dare name but could not bear to lose. It was a special place, one that she was loathe to transform into a memory, partly for fear that what had transpired would dissipate like smoke as soon as they reentered civilization.

As the ships and the shouting grew closer, however, Artemis reclaimed the tight reigns of her sensibility and rebuked herself for her nonsense. Without further thought or hesitation, she smiled down to Kad and prompted him awake. “They’ve found us,” She murmured. Without waiting for a response, the Lioness was on her feet and dashing out into the sunlight.

“We’re here!” She called out into the sky, waving her arms like a little bird, but the injunction was unnecessary. The rescue squadron had landed in a clearing some feet away, no doubt guided by Kad’s rescue beacons, and the small search party was rapidly approaching on foot. The sight of their beskar’gam glimmering under the morning light washed over Artemis in a wave of exuberant relief and was powerful enough to keep her rooted firmly in place. She moved only when she heard Kad emerge from the cave behind her. Olive eyes illumined as she turned to greet him, motioning for him to join her at her side. She smiled.

“Let’s go home.”

[member="Kad Tor"]​