Private The Line Between Order and Trust

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace


Varin held the fish as she made her first attempt to jet the large creature just barely missing it. He let out a breath then took in a deep inhale as he strained again, pulling the fish in closer for her.

She readied the net to claim their prize that they had spent most of the morning trying to catch, he watched her swoop the net in and around the creature and for a moment he felt relief.

Then the fish thrashed causing her to lose her balance. A larger splash followed and Varin's gaze tore to where Seren was prior, now in the water.

“Seren?”

Was the only word that left him before he sprung into action.

Without a second thought Varin threw the pole to the side and dashed to where she was. She was fully submerged in the colder water and Varin took a few breaths.

The runes glowed over his chest and shoulders as he dove in after her. At first his body thought to panic when he realised he could not touch the bottom, his head pulled out of the water to take a big gulp of air, steam rushed off his back. His heart raced for a moment before he maintained why he jumped in.

He looked towards where Seren fell.

“On my way.”

He spoke quietly, mainly to himself before he dove in, pulling his arms through the water to get himself closer to her.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

The cold hit first. Sharp, immediate, and unforgiving.

Seren's eyes opened beneath the surface, their glowing amber light cutting through the shifting blue as the world turned weightless. For a heartbeat, there was no orientation, only the violent, muffled thrashing of the net still tangled in her grasp. Then, instinct took over. Her body adjusted, legs kicking in a rhythmic cycle to correct her balance until the surface resolved above her in a canopy of fractured light.

She broke through with a controlled inhale. Water trailed from her hair and shoulders as she pushed it back with one hand, her other arm remaining locked firmly around the net.

The fish thrashed again. Contained. Its fins were caught deep in the mesh, its movements frantic but no longer a threat.

Seren steadied herself, treading water with a measured effort that belied the shock of the fall. Her breathing evened out almost instantly as she located Varin. He was already in the water, closing the distance between them with a frantic energy that she felt before she saw. A sharp spike of alarm and protective instinct radiated from him.

"Varin—stop."

Her voice carried across the water, calm and anchored, intended to break through his panic. She adjusted her weight, lifting the net just enough to show him the trapped, silvered weight within it.

"The catch is secure," she said, her gaze locking onto his to ground him. She could sense the turbulent pulse of his surprise, the way the sudden accident had shaken his usual stoicism. "I am stable. You do not need to rush."

She shifted closer to him, her movements fluid and intentional despite the heavy soak of her clothes. She reached out, not to be saved, but to offer him a point of focus.

"Are you oriented?" she asked, her tone shifting to one of quiet, direct precision. "Surface is directly above you. Do not overcorrect."

A faint, reassuring calmness smoothed her expression as she watched him, making sure he saw the lack of fear in her eyes.

"I am not in danger," she added, her voice dropping to a softer, more private register. "I am simply…wet."

The fish gave one final, desperate thrash in the net. Seren didn't even flinch, holding the line steady as she waited for him to find his footing.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace


His head broke the surface again as his legs kicked to try and keep him surfaced. Water poured into his mouth as he tried to speak, but he pushed forward once again. His heart pounding as he drew nearer.

She spoke his name, calmly and measured. His movements slowed, but still a bit frantic as his head dipped back into the water and back out, another breath of air taken in as he tried to gain some bearing over himself.

When she approached, reaching out with her hand. His fingers wrapped around her hand as she spoke, asking if he was oriented.

“I'm…I'm trying…”

He spoke between breaths as water again filled his mouth, he held his breath preventing himself from inhaling or swallowing any of it.

His other hand swung back, grabbing the base of the dock. His breathing heavy and harsh as he held on.

“You…still have the catch?”

He spoke slowly between breaths as a small smile appeared on his face. His grip on the dock slowly steadied him, holding him into position until his feet started kicking in a rhythmic pattern.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren shifted closer as his grip found her hand, her hold firm and steady as she adjusted her position in the water. The net remained hooked over her forearm, the fish still contained, thrashing less now but not yet still.

"Do not fight the water," she said calmly, her tone even despite the situation. "Match it."

She guided him the remaining distance, keeping her movements controlled so as not to pull him off balance again. When his other hand found the dock, she shifted her grip, helping steady his position rather than dragging him upward too quickly.

"Hold there," she added, watching his breathing, waiting for it to settle.

At his question, her gaze flicked briefly to the net.

"…Yes," she confirmed. "It remains secured."

She lifted it slightly to show him, the fish still firmly caught in the mesh.

Then her attention returned fully to him.

"You did well," she said, quieter now, but no less certain. "Particularly for someone who does not know how to swim."

A brief pause.

"Or did not," she amended, the faintest hint of dry acknowledgment threading through her tone.

She kept one hand near his arm, ready in case he slipped again, her posture steady as she remained in the water beside him, ensuring he was fully stable before attempting to move further.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Varin’s eyes closed as his breathing calmed, his motions slowly turning in sync with the waves. Some rhythm was still off leaving to unsteadiness such is the nature of first learning anything. But he was no longer unsure of what he was doing, the confidence only growing as he found his rhythm. Slowly, he released the dock, his body dropping into the water just above his shoulders as he started to wave his arms back and forth for stability.

He was still expending more energy than needed to stay afloat, but he was floating. One slow breath after another left him, then his hand slowly extended, offering to relieve her of the netted fish.

“Let’s get that on ice, so we can prep it properly.”

A soft smile touched his lips.

When she mentioned his progress on swimming a look of surprise came to him when he thought of how far he moved away from the dock to reach her. Not far by many means but to him is the furthest he had ever willingly moved in water.

His hand slowly took the net before he turned back to the dock, wading towards its edge. The water seemed to part for him as he made his way back, slowly but surely, the net was slung back onto the dock. He looked back at her then pulled himself back onto the platform. He sat there for a moment as his chest moved with each breath, a sign of strain and muscle work he was not used to.

His hand then stretched out to her ready to take her hand and pull her up.

“I still have a long way to go for proficiency’s sake, but I’m not worried, I’m sure I will have an excellent teacher.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren watched him steady himself, her gaze attentive but no longer sharp with concern. The tension had passed. What remained was observation again, quieter, more measured.

When he moved to take the net, she released it without resistance, her grip loosening as she let him bear the weight this time. Her glowing amber eyes followed the motion as he made his way back to the dock, noting the effort, the adjustment, the way he was already improving.

She lingered in the water a moment longer before reaching for his offered hand.

"You adapt quickly," she said, her tone calm, though there was a trace of approval beneath it.

She took his hand and allowed him to pull her up, her movements controlled despite the added weight of soaked clothing. Once on the dock, she released him and pushed damp strands of hair back from her face, water trailing down her sleeves.

At his mention of ice, her attention shifted.

"…Ice?" she repeated, a faint crease forming between her brows.

She glanced toward the fish, then back to him.

"Does it require preservation immediately?" she asked, genuinely curious. "I was under the impression it would be prepared…directly."

Her head tilted slightly, studying him now rather than the catch, the question entirely practical despite the circumstances.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

His hand clasped hers after she reached out, not tight but firm, his eyes lingered on her for a moment after she spoke. A pause of silence before he gently hoisted her from the water. Small fountains of water trails rained down back into the ocean as she broke the surface.

He watched as she moved the damp hair from her face, her golden eyes still catching him by surprise, a small smirk curved his lips.

His gaze then dropped to his bag that he brought with them. Reaching into his bag, pulling out his cloak and placed it over her shoulders. The black fabric still held a hint of smoked wood scent as it clung to her.

“Adaptation is one of my many talents.”

At her confusion about the ice he gave her a small nod.

“It certainly can be, and that is what we will be doing. Opening it up, gutting it, then putting it in the cooler to take back to the ship to finish prep and then cook.”

He knelt down over the net, admiring the color and size of the creature. More notably paying attention to any spines that could have venom glands. He pulled his small knife from his sheath on his hip and slowly unfolded the fins with the dull side of the blade.

The fins showed evidence of sharpness. As most fish did. It was a defense mechanism for if some unfortunate soul held them wrong, nothing unusual and more importantly, no venom glands along the spine or near the gills.

He reached down and pulled the hook from its mouth.

“Always make sure you pay attention to any spines along the fins and their backs.”

His fingers reached into the gills before he lifted the large fish up to test its weight.

“This’ll probably feed us for the trip.”

He smiled at her then walked over to a wash basin on the dock.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not resist when he settled the cloak over her shoulders, though there was a brief stillness as the warmth contrasted sharply against the lingering cold of the water. Her fingers lightly caught the edge of the fabric, more out of awareness than need, the faint scent of smoke and wood registering without comment.

Her glowing amber eyes remained on him as he explained, then shifted to the fish as he knelt. She said nothing. Instead, she watched. Closely.

Every motion. Every placement of his hands. The way he used the dull edge of the blade first, the care taken before committing to anything sharper. Her attention lingered on the fins as he unfolded them, noting the structure, the placement, the potential for injury.

"…Noted," she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

Her gaze followed the line of the spine, then the gills, committing the details to memory rather than asking questions she could answer through observation. When he reached in and lifted the fish, she studied the weight distribution, the way he held it to avoid the sharper edges.

"It requires precision," she added after a moment, her tone calm, analytical. "Not just strength."

She stepped a little closer as he moved to the basin, the cloak shifting slightly with her movement, water still dripping faintly from her sleeves.

Her posture remained composed, but there was a subtle shift in her focus now. Less distant. More engaged.

"I will observe this part," she said, quiet but certain. "Next time, I will assist."

Her gaze remained fixed on the process, unflinching despite its reality, learning not by instruction alone but by watching how it was done.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace


Varin chuckled lightly at her statement.

“Definitely requires precision, but it can be a bit more involved than that.”

He set the fish down onto the counter and readied his vibroknife, making a quick incision to the back of the neck.

“I prefer to bleed it out before prep. Makes it a lot less messy when you quarter it.”

He tied off the tail with a bit of fishing line then hung it off the side of the dock, the scent of freshly cut meat clung to the air as he placed his hands on the counter and looked out to the horizon before them.

The soft rush of waves making soft impacts with the dock carried its own rhythm while the birds circled above waiting for their share of food they just caught.

He took a deep breath before he spoke to her.

“I know it's not pretty. Doing this part of fishing. But I do try to make the kill as quick as I can.”

He paused for a moment as he looked over to the fish that slowly drained itself from gravity.

“Making your food suffer for the sake of suffering is just not how I operate. Not only is it pointless, but stress on the animal can taint the flavor.”

His fingers drummed on the countertop by the wash basin as he waited for a few more moments, enjoying the sounds around them while he waited.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren watched the process without looking away, though there was a visible tightening in her expression as the scent reached her. Her glowing amber eyes tracked the motion of the blade, the placement, the method, committing it to memory even as her nose wrinkled faintly in clear distaste.

"…Efficient," she said at first, her tone measured, though it carried a slight strain beneath the composure.

Her gaze lingered on the suspended fish, the slow, deliberate draining, and for a moment she said nothing further. The reality of it was…difficult to ignore at this proximity.

"And…intentional," she added, quieter now.

She shifted her weight slightly, the cloak settling around her shoulders as if she were grounding herself against the sensory intrusion rather than retreating from it.

"Reducing stress to preserve quality is logical," she continued, her voice returning to its usual calm through deliberate control. "Both ethically… and practically."

A brief pause followed as her gaze flicked back to the fish, then away again, just for a second this time.

"…Though I will admit," she said, with a faint, restrained edge of honesty, "the proximity makes the theory considerably less appealing in practice."

Her expression steadied again, though the faint trace of discomfort remained, not hidden, just contained.

"I understand the necessity," she added quietly, returning her attention to the process despite it, observing rather than avoiding.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber


“It takes some time to get used to the sight and everything else.”

He looked back at the fish, the slow dripping having nearly halted its pace into the ocean. A soft breath escaped him.

“You're handling it better than my first time seeing it. I had almost enjoyed my breakfast a second time when Father showed me how to dress fish.”

He looked back at her with a small smirk before he pulled the fish back over, setting it on the counter he ran the dull side of the blade up the sides, scraping away the scales.

A few pass overs had removed most of them.

He held it in his hands for a moment in quiet before he set it into the wash basin, activating the spigot to run some water over the fish.

With calm and muscle memory-like efficiency he grabbed the small blade and sliced into its belly, running water through the new wound to wash out any leftover unwanted bits.

“The last thing you want to happen when you're eating fish is to bite down on a scale or bone. Luckily, this does not seem to have bones.”

After some time of working and prep work, what was left of the fish were two large fillets. He stood up straight to look at them, eyeing each side before flipping them over to repeat the process.

“And now I am looking for signs of parasites. Usually you can tell before you get to this part, but I'm just doing it just in case.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren remained where she was, her attention fixed on the process despite the faint tension that still lingered in her expression. Her glowing amber eyes followed each motion with quiet precision, from the scraping of scales to the methodical cleaning beneath the running water.

At his comment, there was the faintest shift at the corner of her mouth.

"…Age may play a factor," she said, her tone calm, though touched with a trace of dry acknowledgment. "Or perhaps exposure to less…ideal circumstances over time."

Her gaze lingered on the fillets as he worked, studying the texture, the color, the care taken in each cut.

"Familiarity reduces reaction," she added more quietly, as if clarifying the thought for herself as much as for him.

A brief pause followed as he mentioned parasites.

Her attention sharpened slightly.

"…How can you tell?" she asked, her curiosity direct but measured. "What indicates contamination at this stage?"

She stepped a fraction closer, not intruding, but narrowing the distance enough to better observe what he was looking for, her discomfort secondary now to understanding the process correctly.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber


A small exhale left him with a smirk.

“Yeah, age may play a factor. But I have seen adult warriors have issues with prepping animals for food.”

As he looked over the meat her question lingered for a moment. He was quiet for a time as he thought of his answer.

“Well, truth be told there are many ways to tell from color to texture to scent, sometimes you can see them sometimes not. Also I know very little of this creature other than its boneless and its meat is hearty enough for steaks. So I am just keeping an eye out for something that looks…off.”

He flipped the fillet over once more to take one final look before he felt comfortable to call it good.

“Alright, looks good enough for me.”

He looked up and down the beach then back at the ship.

“You know, it's not very often we get to make a fire and cook our meal on the beach. Which would you prefer? Inside dining or beach dinner?”

He grabbed the bucket full of unwanted parts and set it aside, his gaze lingering on hers for a bit longer than needed to, but this time he did not try to correct himself. To him what he was looking at was something he could never grow tired of. Even as the sun seemed to hang above her, it only seemed to sharpen her image further.

A small smile curved over his lips.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren listened to his explanation with the same quiet, unwavering attention she had afforded every other part of the process, her glowing amber eyes lingering on the prepared fillets as though she were committing the final standard of his work to memory. There was a newfound appreciation in her gaze, one that transcended the mere logistics of the hunt and settled into the quiet intimacy of the moment they had built together.

"…So it is a matter of experience, instinct, and a necessary caution," she said softly, her voice carrying a melodic resonance in the quiet air. "It may be an imprecise science, but in your hands, it is a deeply useful one."

At his next question, her gaze lifted slowly from the counter to meet his. She noticed the look this time, the way his eyes remained anchored to hers a fraction longer than simple courtesy required. She did not call attention to the shift, nor did she look away; instead, she allowed the connection to hold, letting the silent acknowledgment settle between them like a shared secret.

For the first time, a faint, genuine warmth touched her otherwise composed expression, softening the sharp edges of her scholarly focus into something far more tender.

Her eyes shifted briefly toward the shoreline, where the evening light had begun to bleed into shades of soft violet and gold over the water, before drifting back to his face.

"Let us cook outside," she said, her tone calm and certain, yet laced with a rare, gentle lightness.

She reached up to adjust the cloak slightly around her shoulders, the fabric still damp at the edges from the sea spray, and stepped a fraction closer to him before turning in the direction of the beach.

"It is not often that circumstance arranges something so simple, and yet so perfect," she added.

A brief pause followed, her voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate register that seemed reserved only for him.

"And it is a comfort to know that this is something that could be done at either of our homes as well. It makes the world feel a little smaller, I think."

Her gaze lingered on him for a long moment in return, a look that was subtle in its delivery but deeply intentional in its meaning.

"That gives it a certain appeal that I find difficult to ignore."

Then she finally glanced toward the waiting horizon, the faint, unmistakable trace of a smile remaining on her lips as the first stars began to peek through the twilight.

"Though, truth be told, I suspect your preparation and your company will matter far more than the setting itself."

Varin Mortifer