The Lion's Claws

[Darth Prazutis]

​Narvas Iv Zveris, Thule
​Central Spire, Personal Quarters of the King...

​Narvas Iv Zveris was the ultimate symbol of imperial might and authority in all of Thule. Deep in the inhospitable wilds of Thule the massive citadel rose from the earth behind shielded wall after wall, battlement after battlement. As the domain of the King of Thule, Warlord of Rattatak, and Arch-Prince of the Pacanth Reach it was the most heavily guarded fortress on the entire planet, perhaps in the entire sector. Additionally it was one of the few citadels to hold a fully complemented legion of the Blackblade Guard who garrisoned and defended the fortress outside of the central spires, where the Crownguard took command. While one would find the near endless legions of soldiers willing to fight to their last dying breath dark, while one would find the innumerable amount of cameras, sensors, and dark side presence hanging over the area unsettling, Braxus Zambrano chose to call this place home.

After the decisive battle with Darth Vitium when the Destroyer banged on the gates of her domain and in the eyes of the Sith challenged her right to breath in his world, after he reaped the Sith Lady's soul and parted her head from her shoulder it was here that he came. In its aftermath [member="Irajah Ven"] was immediately brought in to treat his excruciating wound from the battle. A great vertical lightsaber strike from his left shoulder down across his pecs and ending near his side. To any other human, to any other person they should've died or succumbed to the excruciating pain brought by the lightsaber strike but he was no ordinary man. As quick as the doctor arrived and overcame her bewilderment from the apparent lack of pain he displayed, she left as soon as the treatments were completed.

​The Sith Lord laughed at her when she tried to tell him he should take it easy the next few days when her treatments finished, it would heal but the scar would certainly remain. The very idea of taking it easy was laughable, there was no easy day in his life. Braxus stood wearing a simple outfit consisting of a black tank top, gray trousers and a set of black combat boots. The King of Thule stood in one of the open sparring rooms in the central spire, various sparring weapons lined the walls and training equipment sat around the room, a sparring square sat in he center. Braxus walked out onto the sparring square carrying a pair of twin lightsabers trophies from his duel with the Sith Lady who fell to his runeblade. In his spare time often the Sith Lord sparred to maintain, and hone his styles of fighting crucial to keeping his skill as sharp as possible.

Snap hiss.

The area around was illuminated in a crimson glow as he ignited the pair entering into a fighting stance, he went through the paces of the Jar'Kai fighting style going through several attack sequences with deadly precision and perfect control. Ultimately it was just to warm up and get the blood pumping.

[member="Artemis Lux"]

 

[Artemis Lux]

Thule.

The semi-arid planet, known for its rich savannas and turbulent lightening storms, was a fitting home for Braxus Zambrano. When Artemis had first unrolled from her secret carpet back on Panatha, she had met him as a Prince. Here . . . Braxus was a King. The dark, sulfurous signature of his presence hung heavily over the towering effigy of Narvas Iv Zveris, the sensation of his dominion and control almost palpable in the dry air. Artemis had felt it as soon as their ship breached the atmosphere and approached the jutting ramparts and massive battlements of the citadel fortress. Here, she knew that the Giant reigned supreme.

They had arrived early that morning. In the aftermath of his victory over Darth Vitium, it was natural for the King of Thule to return to his throne, bearing the fruits of his momentous success for all of his subjects to see. They worshipped him as a god; now, they would cower before him as one. Artemis had orchestrated all of the preparations for his return. She was singularly gifted in the art of planning; her ability to methodically compartmentalize tasks and information, coupled with her sharp attention to detail, ensured that his transition back to Narvas Iv Zveris was utterly seamless. It seemed that her strategic thinking extended not only to politics and the battlefield, but also directly to the home.

Night was falling now. It came sultry and slow, in a brilliant blaze of crimson smeared like blood across the setting sky. Artemis was nearing the completion of her lengthy inventory of duties, but only one remained. His presence was strong; she knew where to find him.

The Lioness was silent as she emerged into the sparring room. The energy inside was nearly as warm and electric as the air outside; Artemis wore light and airy fabrics that allowed her skin to breathe, only part of her long dark curls twisted away from her face. At the cinch of her slender waist, hung a forbidding Mandalorian beskad that glinted and winked in the fading sunlight, an ever-present reminder that--despite her small size--she was a warrior by birthright. A warrior knew not to interrupt a man bearing his blades.

Artemis watched Braxus move with all of the deadly, calculated grace of a Lion. Pure, unadulterated muscle rippled underneath his swarthy skin with every hum of the twin lightsabers in his masterful hands, swinging high and low with each broad stroke. She was not immune from admiring him. Where lesser women might have gasped, she eyed with quiet approval the large, vertical slash that traveled from his shoulder, across his chest, down to his side. Good. An efficient killer could not afford to rest. Artemis knew that it was the very efficiency that he practiced now that had saved him from injuries far worse than that slash. Only when he broke posture did she speak.

"My King." Her voice hit the air like a soft but strong call to arms. From where Artemis stood in the entrance, the crimson glow of the sky set the outline of her form ablaze. She gazed at Braxus with brilliant emerald eyes, and for a moment, she could feel his fighter's energy begin to catch like wildfire on her skin, breathing life into her lungs. It felt good to be back in a sparring room. To Artemis, it felt like home.

"I trust that your transition back to Narvas Iv Zveris has been a smooth one."

A small smile pulled at the dimple in her cheek, feline gaze flashing to his sabers, then back to him.

"I'm glad to see that you waste no time. A good warrior doesn't. Those are fine trophies to mark your victory--how does it feel to wield them?"


[member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​[member="Artemis Lux"].

​So far the decision to bring the woman into the fold as one of his advisors had been an superb choice. Artemis was a meticulous planner, a skilled strategist and possessed a cunning mind. In the time since she unveiled herself from the secret carpet he found himself delegating more responsibility to her. The Lioness's spectacular gifts couldn't be ignored, everything ran seamlessly when he placed Artemis at the helm. Efficiency was extremely important to someone with as many responsibilities as the King of Thule, and she worked hard to make everything easy. When he made notice of his return to Thule Aremis was the one who personally led the preparations, even orchestrating Doctor Ven's delivery from Vain Hollow to Narvas Iv Zveris and back again specifically so that she'd be here when he returned. Each turn Artemis impressed and each conversation he had with her was electrifying.

​The Lioness wasn't afraid to speak her mind and so often did when she was around him and not in the presence of outsiders. Half of what she said when barbs were traded and verbal conflicts were had between them, any other advisor would've been killed for such disrespect. But this was Artemis and he enjoyed her presence. It wasn't that she was defiant or rebellious she simply wasn't afraid nor was she intimidated by him, in fact he speculated she thought herself to be on equal footing. The friction between them and their conversations wasn't only just refreshing, but it was electrifying. In the time since her arrival he hadn't been able to orchestrate her a proper tour of the sprawling fortress and only a brief one of the central complex was given before he had to take off. Braxus imagined she was familiarizing herself with the fortress grounds, or anticipating his needs and performing more preparations in advance, she was always good at that.

"My King."

​Braxus ended the sequence with a vicious thrust before twirling the blades tilting their crimson tips towards the ground before deactivating them, his gaze falling upon her once the soft yet strong words reached his ears. Artemis stood every bit the warrior goddess with her dark ebony mane of hair descending in ringlets past her shoulders. She wore a set of airy, white loose fabrics allowing her skin to breathe by showing quite a lot of it, including a plunging neckline. For a moment he found himself looking her form up and down, his eyes lingering on certain portions of her curvaceous body before snapping to the beskad on her waist.

"I trust that your transition back to Narvas Iv Zveris has been a smooth one."

​Braxus nodded in reply "Thanks in no small part to you Lady Lux. You never cease to impress with your skill." ​He said walking towards her while she complemented him on his decision to ignore the doctors words and return to physical activity. "They already feel like extensions of my own arms. Every time I look at them I get to watch her head tumble to the ground after my victory, a very satisfying memory." ​Braxus said, looking towards the beskad. He pointed at it before walking backward towards the circle. "Come Lady Lux let us see if you have any skill with the weapon, or if words of your skill in battle are grossly exaggerated."


​

 

[Artemis Lux]

The electricity in the atmosphere was not just a product of Thule's lightening-charged climate; it was a constant surge of friction that pulsed back and forth between Artemis and the King every time they locked eyes or exchanged words. Since settling into her new role, and her new life, as advisory-hand at his side, something in the energy between them had shifted significantly. It was not a shift that Artemis could readily identify. There were no distinct benchmarks or milestones to signify the transformation of the connection that they shared. There was only time, and the way that they moved through it together: two mighty souls plunging forward as a single sword on the war-path. It was exhilarating.

Time had been good to both of them. Where they had initially clawed and fought out of bitterness, mistrust, and pride, Artemis and Braxus had begun to debate and converse with striking similarity to actual confidants. Artemis dwelled less on the acridity of her past and instead threw the brunt of her fighter's heart into building something far greater and more powerful for the future--a future, it was clear, that included Braxus. In return, he had begun to gift her with increasing authority and trust. More and more, Artemis found herself summoned to his side, both in public and in private. She dutifully bolstered him in conferences with outsiders and, once they were alone, fiercely advised him with no-holds-barred honesty and candor. In those private moments, they often raised their voices--Lion roaring at Lioness, and vice versa--but their fights were different now. They were not really fights at all. They were sincere, productive conversations: man listening to woman, and woman listening to man, even over the fever pitch of their growls.

They were both warriors; fighting was their first language. Tonight, however, their language seemed to be expanding.

Braxus complimented her both with his words . . . and with his eyes. Artemis was a perceptive woman. The sweep of his primal gaze over the slender curves and valleys of her body did not go unnoticed, nor unreturned by her toward his own masterful frame. As Braxus approached, Artemis smiled--that small, secretive smile that would tell him that she was not afraid. Fear was far from the emotion that swept over her bare skin in a warm rush of adrenaline as she found herself bathed in his hulking shadow, gazing up at him with those inexorable green eyes. For a moment, the fierce beauty simply regarded the beast. Her King was an apex of a man. He towered more than a foot above the crown of her dark curls and could easily snap her swan throat with the clench of one large hand. Where others might have cowered, Artemis basked in his fearsome strength as if he were the sun.

​"A memory that will not be forgotten by those who bore witness to her death at your hand," The Lioness murmured, an undercurrent of approval lacing the accent of her voice. "--the same ones who once questioned your authority will now tremble at your feet."

It was interesting. Artemis could compliment Braxus's ability to eviscerate a woman whose physical strength far outmatched her own and, in the same breath, accept his challenge to spar without an ounce of hesitation. Perhaps it was the long line of warrior's blood that coursed through her veins. Perhaps it was her increasing awareness that, in the face of all of his violence, Braxus would not harm a hair on her head. In either case, the smile grew across the swell of her lips.

"Don't tempt me, my Lord. That's a challenge I cannot refuse."

Unhooking the wicked beskad from its place at the curve of her hip, Artemis descended upon the sparring ring with all of the steady, lethal grace of a warrior queen. She stretched, putting the ripple of her small but finely cut muscles on full display, before twirling the blade in her palm and beginning a slow, predatory circle around the Giant. The flash of her eyes never left his face.

"My people have a saying: 'hra'ne jag, hra'ne trattok'or.' The larger the man, the larger the fall. Have you heard of it?"

There was a fan of long black curls and a mighty cry, and all at once . . . they were off. Artemis lunged toward the King in the first offensive move--smart, quick, testing the fiery waters, watching carefully for his reaction. Their dance had begun.


[member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​To the ill perceptive one might assume that Braxus Zambrano would be an brutish barbarian in combat, purely relying on his brute strength to crush his enemies.

​They were horribly mistaken.

​Braxus was strong and nightmarishly quick without the force for his size, not to mention his size beguiled the highly trained killer beneath. Unlike [member="Artemis Lux"] who drew her beskad the Dark Lord didn't even bother to pull a weapon from the many racks lining the chamber. He moved into the sparring circle and stood opposite his sparring partner, hands folded neatly behind his back as he looked toward his advisor. Artemis might've been far smaller in both height and weight but it didn't make her any less of a deadly warrior. She was toned and muscular the telltale signs of a warrior who kept her body in top physical condition. What she lacked so severely in strength she made up for in speed and agility.

​"I have heard of it Lady Lux. In certain cases it might prove true.." ​Braxus said. As she lunged forward her strike coming in the form of a quick slash. She was given a display of his quick reflexes as he kept his hands locked behind his back Braxus side stepped and shifted his upper body away from her strikes so that all the woman would hit was the air around him. Carefully he watched as she came at him again only this time it was different. When her strike fell he quickly side stepped moving faster than a titan of his size should be able to towards the side of her blade hand. Quickly he reached out grabbing her by the wrist and the shoulder he moved to kick the legs out from under her and attempted to slam her down into the ground.

​"But this is not one of them. Have you ever heard of the phrase: Know your enemy?"

 

[Artemis Lux]

It was unlike anything Artemis had ever seen. Usually fighters were either small but quick, large but slow, powerful but stupid.

Not Braxus.

Braxus, God of Panatha, moved as dynamically as a storm and as swiftly as the wind; like a force of nature, he was utterly unexpected and impossible to control, tame, or predict. It was hideously clear that every biological element that comprised his DNA worked together to make him the perfect predator, the ultimate killer. He was as strong as he was fast, as cunning as he was brutal. The way that his massive body moved, rippled, and flexed--the way that his mind worked to anticipate her every movement--stirred something deep within Artemis' core. Where others would have fled from the beast, the beauty wanted more. His energy, her adrenaline, their deadly dance . . . it was intoxicating.

He caught her wrist, swallowing up its tiny circumference within the overlap of his large fingers, and made to slam her down to the sparring circle floor. It was not a difficult feat; Braxus was easily three times Artemis' size--something she quickly decided to use to her advantage. As the Lioness fell, she wrapped her free arm around the Lion's thick neck and, using his own weight, brought him down to the floor with her. Their bodies collided, his every angle pressing heavily against her every curve, hearts hammering and chests heaving.

"I'm not your enemy, my King."

Artemis murmured from beneath him, pinned so close as to feel his breath, warm and thick, mingling with hers in the scant space between them. In a flash of strength, unprecedented for one her size, she turned the tables. Pushing him up and over to land hard on his back . . . Artemis, glowing and victorious, came to sit astride the Giant, one slender leg straddled on either side of his muscled torso. All at once, she was soft and feminine, fearsome and proud, brutal and strong--every inch a woman and a warrior, wrapped into one small body, perched on top of him like a conquering goddess.

Brilliant emerald eyes burned down toward him, the glory of her dark curls flowing freely down her strong, lean back like a mane. She pointed the sharp end of her beskad at his throat and leaned closer. Her voice, when it came, was a low, dangerous purr.

" . . . how well would you like to know me?"


[member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​A...slight miscalculation.

​In battle the slightest mistake, the smallest underestimation and the entire field could shift. While he moved to plant [member="Artemis Lux"] to the ground he underestimated just how fast the Lioness could move. Artemis sprung to action the long, toned, strong arms of the lioness wrapping around his neck using her falling momentum to pull him down.

Down he came.

While he could've used the force to react quickly, to counteract her strike he instead fell down to the floor crashing down on top of Artemis his full bulk pinning her down to the floor. He was impressed to see the woman move so quickly, react so quickly. Artemis stalked carefully like she was on the hunt watching his movements, and even when she was surprised the lioness struck with speed and finesse. Braxus didn't expect anything less from the mandalorian born warrior.

​An amused grin formed on his face as Artemis somehow managed to worm her way out from under him and flip the two over, so that she not sat astride his massive form. Fierce, proud, and reveling in her victory everything from the look on her face to how she held her head high, it screamed victorious. For now he would allow her to revel in this tiny victory, for now before he took her down a few pegs.

​But then...

​As her blade came down to point at his throat Braxus leaned forward closer to her, so the blade was ever closer. If she had any disloyal thoughts this might've been the perfect opportunity to try and slide that blade right into his throat.

" . . . how well would you like to know me?"

​The electricity from her words and their situation crawled infectiously over his skin, permeating his form as he stared into her eyes, his adrenaline still pumping as well as hers. Braxus could see the same look in her eyes as they drew closer and closer together, neither speaking. Before they kissed. It was brief bout of passion, but still held passion when he met her ruby red lips. As they separated however Braxus used an application of brute strength to swiftly toss her clear off of him and in the direction of the wall. The Sith Lord stood up a victorious glow on his face "Know who you fight, Lady Lux." ​He said brushing off his cloak.

​"I don't know you. Intelligence reports were slim...what are you hiding Lady Lux?"

 

[Artemis Lux]

Fists. Blades. Blasters. Artemis could have anticipated an assault from any of these weapons, but the weapon that Braxus wielded against her was utterly unexpected. She was trained to fight with fire and blood, to defend against her opponents until her very last breath. She was not trained for this. One moment, she sat astride her King with her back straight and proud, the sharpened edge of her beskad poised to strike at his throat. The next moment . . . the sparring room seemed to fade away. All that remained was the burn of their eyes melded together and the acute sensation of her soft skin pressing into his skin, white hot adrenaline emanating off their bodies and thickening the air with heat.

Slowly, the beskad lowered.

Gazes locked.

Faces, bodies, breathing drew closer.

There was a moment of electric silence, and then all at once--

The Lion and the Lioness kissed.

It was a vicious war of the lips. His kiss was passionate and rough, and she answered him with equal fervor. The full, velvet bud of her mouth melted into his own as they submitted to the heat of the moment--as they submitted to each other--weeks of heated arguments, serious discussions, and meaningful glances in the halls and across the table exploding into wildfire between their bodies. Her hips shifted and rolled with each meeting of their mouths, instinct briefly kicking in before being sharply overridden by Artemis coming to her senses. At the same time that Braxus made to toss her off and away, she snapped her head to attention and attempted to extricate herself from his arms on her own.

It was too late.

The might of the Giant's arms slammed Artemis against the wall, her back hitting the stone hard. Artemis was a strong woman, but a small one; the impact hurt. She cried out in pain, closing her eyes and allowing her head to tilt backward. Dark curls spilled behind her shoulders as she arched her slender back in response to the sharp tremors that traveled from her neck down through her spine. Beyond the physical, there was so much to process. The kiss. The sensations. The emotion.

After a moment, Artemis opened her eyes, brilliant gaze flickering up to Braxus.

"We are only as strong as our trust in each other. I have nothing to hide from you, my Lord," She murmured, slowly standing up through the pain, the scant fabrics of her tunic resettling around her form--the very image of Venus rising from the sea. "There are only those things about me you have yet to discover. Perhaps if we spent more time talking, and less time at each other's throats, you might consider me as more than just a political convenience."

Artemis walked steadily closer to the King, drawing herself up beneath him in that uncanny way she had of carrying herself like a queen. The vivid emerald of her eyes shone nothing but sincerity as she looked up at him.

"You might consider me a friend."



[member="Darth Prazutis"]