The Exegetic Episodes of the Bloodtrailed Bashtok and the Emergent Matriarch

[Aver Brand]

There’s only so much satisfied cackling you can do with a wet slab of… well, whatever they’d caught. Aver was reasonably sure Qui hadn’t named every species yet.

She peeked out her tongue, licked the blood off her chin. Then she swiped meat off her face and chucked it back at the smirking nerf herder.

 

[Quietus]

It landed on her shoulder with a wet splack. Quietus nonchalantly peeled it off and took a bite. Yeah, that piece had been quite rare - not to Aver's particular taste, but rare was fine by her. The closer to raw the better.

Chewing over an audible chuckle, she reached over and pinched Aver's little toe, Don't act like you don't love a good foot rub. Missing the spoils of home are you?

 

[Aver Brand]

The mercenary looked at her like she’d grown a second head. I don’t—

Shaking her head, Aver propped herself up on her elbows and arched a truly unimpressed eyebrow at her mate. “I never got one in my life, Des.”

 

[Quietus]

Des blinked.

Wot?

Then she leaned forward a bit, tossing the cut of meat over her shoulder into the fire and grasping both of Aver's feet.

Really?

She grinned.

You mean to say you've never had a massage?

Something about this revelation seemed to put a glint in her eyes.

 

[Aver Brand]

Icy eyes narrowed in the fickle light of the fire.

Yeah, there was a shetload of time between conquering planets and running a criminal empire. Aver added another lifted brow to the expression. A tiny smirk curled her lips.

You gonna fix that, hon?

 

[Quietus]

Quietus' expression of growing amusement persisted. Stubbornly and unflinchingly under the stare of those icy eyes.

Hnnn.

Bronzed cheeks pressed upwards into her eyes gleefully as her fingers snaked around Aver's ankles.

I would be- she yanked the woman, body and all, towards her, delighted.

Turning where she sat to face the fire, Quietus collected those feet in her lap and held her hands towards the fire, warming them. How Aver had gone her entire life without knowing the simple pleasures of therapeutic massage was somewhat mind-boggling. Qui was aware of her upbringing, one not conducive to luxuries like this, but she'd managed to create for herself a haven out of Nadir. Sure, maybe there hadn't been much time as the Hand of the Emperor when she was a Sith. Conquering planets was a busy, taxing, demanding career. But she wasn't conquering planets anymore and Qui knew she had downtime on Nadir.

What was she doing with all her fortune?

Oh well, she wasn't going to complain. If Aver truly had never received a foot massage in her life, well, she had no idea what she was missing out on. These ice cold feet that had always managed to find their way to her back whenever they shared a bed would be warm and happy in no time.

Hands properly heated by the fire, Quietus clamped them over the tops of Aver's feet, letting them warm her toes before she began to gently knead at the joints. She'd be working her way along the pads and arches soon enough.

 

[Aver Brand]

Now, Aver was a good Sabacc player. Excellent, even – and though not a professional, she lied for a living anyhow.

It took a while, then, for her stony mask to begin morphing into strange expressions.

First, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Then bit her lip. Stared, hard, at the flickering flames. Dug her fingers into the soil, made a small, embarrassing sound that wasn’t quite a squeal and—

“Quiwhatthekark,” burst out the same second as she yanked those cold feet straight out of her grasp.

 

[Quietus]

Quietus blinked at the abruptness of the feet leaving her hands, squeal notwithstanding.

What - what? She stared at her, somewhat alarmed. Couldn't possibly have hurt her, she wasn't even using that much pressure.

Are you injured? Are my hands too hot?

Didn't seem like it? Though Aver wasn't always one to speak up about being hurt or sore.

 

[Aver Brand]

It wasn’t a squeal and don’t be ridiculous. And then, after a beat, to mitigate this… whatever this was you know I like that.

Aver turned her burning gaze to her bare feet, staring at them like they’d committed some hitherto unknown form of betrayal. Her nose wrinkled with a displeased scowl.

It… made want to laugh.

 

[Quietus]

Qui looked at her hands, looked at Aver's feet, looked at Aver.

It... made me want to laugh.

Qui fell still, jaw dropping like a thick gob of honey, eyes slowly widening. Disbelief. Pure, utter, shocking disbelief filtered into her expression.

Aver Brand... NO. aghast, awe....

and then that mischievous smile slowly curled the corners of her mouth.

you're ticklish.

 

[Aver Brand]

Why are you looking at me like that.

Aver’s eyes narrowed to icy slits as she bore an increasingly suspicious gaze at her slackjawed mate. Weren’t too many things that could throw six centuries of experience like that. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d never seen her that shocked.

Her brows furrowed, then shot up as the rest of her face resolved into befuddlement.

And… what’s that?

 

[Quietus]

What?

You don't...

What?

She didn't know what ticklish was?

You don't know what ticklish is?

Quietus blinked, grin shrinking to an amused smirk. A hand snuck forward to drum her fingers along the bottom of Aver's nearest foot.

 

[Aver Brand]

Snap-quick, Aver yanked her foot away from questing fingers.

“No,” she drawled, out loud, because Qui could be a bit daft sometimes. She suspected her mate did it on purpose.

It was infuriating.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face and tell me.”

 

[Quietus]

Couldn't.

Qui's smirk broadened as she leaned forward.

It's a defense mechanism, Aver wasn't going to like this explanation. How did you explain ticklish without the science behind it? To protect vulnerable areas of the body like the sides, or the neck, stomach, under the arms, and ... she glanced down, the feet.

Laughing is just an automatic emotional response triggered by the hypothalamus.

Green eyes glanced at Aver's feet, It's usually used to torment little children because they can't control the reaction.

 

[Aver Brand]

The more she heard, the deeper her scowl grew.

“I.” Aver began, twisting over to stalk towards her mate.

“Am not.” She took hold of two fine, sinewy wrists; pinned them with a strange gentleness to the warm soil.

“A child.” Nary more than a whisper against that smirking mouth as she straddled her hips.

Or a belch, for that matter – this last but an echo of a thought, because she was already kissing her.

 

[Quietus]

Amusement settled into an easy smile, though try as she might (and she wasn't trying at all) the obvious lines of mischief didn't leave her expression.

But really, who knew? Who knew Aver Brand, the mighty and fierce Mercenary of the galactic lanes, had ticklish feet. If there was a cake waiting somewhere, then this was the icing for it. Anniversary cake maybe? That might just be the straw that broke the veritable crab-armored camel's back.

Quietus smiled into Aver's lips, content to have their attention, though her hands were a little less satisfied with the ground.

What would you like to be then? an ask, lips pulling from Aver's to nuzzle and nibble along her jawline, a feat she had to reach for from the considerable height difference.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver canted her head to the side, more instinct than conscious decision. Blue eyes drifted closed as she enjoyed the play of teeth down her neck, hairs along her arms standing on end at the pleasant sensation.

Slowly she drew up, releasing her arms in favor of twisting her fingers into a golden mane. In the breath of separation, Aver arched her brows and leveled her mate with a long, considering look.

Getting forgetful in your old age, honey?

She pulled Qui along as she settled back into her lap, ducking her head to ghost her lips over freckled shoulders.

I answered that a lifetime ago.

 

[Quietus]

Oh, hello smugness, it's been so terribly long. Come sit awhile by the fire on this roving mountain of hunger, fury, death and destruction.

Well I did just have a 700 year old curse lifted off my mind a few days ago. My memories are bit of a mess at the moment...

Green eyes followed the Firrerreo, freed hands now moving to rest on the woman's thighs. For the life of her, Quietus couldn't think of a single moment in time where Aver had referred to any particular thing or title of how she wished to be referred to as. Not in this context, anyway. They'd danced around titles well enough, leaving the term mate to stand in for what existed between them. She liked to think she had a good memory, especially for meaningful things, but she wasn't Amorella. She couldn't remember everything.

Mmm, she thought while Aver tended to her shoulder, fingers drawing circles on the Mercenary's hips.

 

[Aver Brand]

Suppose I could find it in me to forgive you… Aver replied gamely, nudging a blonde braid aside so she could bury her face in the mussed hair.

But you know how deep I’ll have to reach… and the thought dipped from grayscale to red, easy as an open wound; easy as her fingers found the hands mapping the scarred landscape of her body; easy as they intertwined and asked without being demanding, led without being commanding.

She left her smirk with wet lips at the juncture of mandible and sternocleidomastoid. Will you help me?