Private The Resilient Heart

[Velda Nar-Donna]

TAGS: Xander Blackmoore
OUTFIT: --
WEAPONS: 1 Lightsaber on the nightstand

To die in dirt is an insult.

To die surrounded by puddles of dirty water and what was likely the rotting reek of stale bacta slurry is an absurdity.

Velda had felt the cold creeping in on Thyferra. She had felt the darkness narrowing down to a needlepoint, and in that suffocating dark, her mind had done what trapped minds do: it processed. It weighed, it cataloged.

She had given him a rule on Eliad, forged in absolute will: You do not get to kill me. It was not a boast. It was not performative arrogance. And as far as Velda was concerned, it was a structural fact of the universe.

It was simply not going to happen. Because she would not give Brandyn the satisfaction.

Not on Thyferra.

Then the dark shattered.

Her eyes opened, followed immediately by air. Real air. Cool, dry, filtered, carrying the faint aroma of fresh ocean salt.

This was not Thyferra. And it was not her yacht.

Roon..

The scene of her new estate greeted her gaze.

In the primary suite, no construction echoes carried over from the unfinished wings down the hall; the room was entirely, flawlessly quiet.

And immediately after awakening the Force returned.

It did not trickle back; it slammed into her nervous system like a high-voltage current. Every nerve ending lit up. The room expanded around her—the smoothness of the marble, the micro-vibrations of the foundation, the pulse of everything living nearby.

And the ever-familiar, undeniable presence of someone dearly important. The man who knew all too well how she felt; she did not need to speak it for him to know.

Xander. . .

She turned her head slowly, her neck muscles stiff. Her robes and the armor underneath had been taken off, and she was wearing her typical black tunic underneath and pants. He stood beside the bed, watchful, patient.

She glanced at the nightstand.

Only one lightsaber rested there, just one. The twin was gone.

A slow, cold breath filled her lungs. It must have been Brandyn’s work. Xander was too precise, too meticulous to leave her weapon behind.

Velda swung her legs over the edge of the bedframe.

Slowly, she stood up, letting her weight settle into her heels, while letting the Force coil back into her until she was entirely her own again.

She stared at Xander. Her gaze presented itself softly, yet quietly intense, and a little smoldering as she watched him.

She closed the step between them.

And she sank into his embrace and hugged him tight.

She spoke, her voice soft, yet entirely alive.

“You came for me....”

 

[Xander Blackmoore]

WEARING: xxx | WEAPONS: Lightsaber
TAG: Velda Nar-Donna

Xander had not left the room.

There had been reasons to. Reports waited for him, along with questions about Thyferra that would eventually demand answers. Someone undoubtedly wanted to know how he had gotten Velda off the planet, and someone else would want an accounting of what had happened before he reached her. The missing lightsaber alone presented a question Xander intended to answer eventually.

None of those concerns had been important enough to pull him away from the bed.

He had brought Velda to Roon because there were few places Xander trusted more. The estate was unfinished, but the primary suite was complete, secure, and comfortably removed from the chaos they had left behind. More importantly, it was his. There were no Republic medics asking questions, no Sith officers hovering outside the door, and no curious eyes attempting to determine what Velda Zambrano meant to Xander Blackmoore.

He had removed what remained of her armor himself, checked every injury he could without causing further harm, and then waited.

Waiting had proven considerably more difficult than rescuing her.

Xander understood action. Give him an enemy and there was always something to be done. Give him a problem and there was invariably some combination of influence, credits, violence, or careful manipulation capable of solving it. Sitting beside an unconscious woman while trusting her body to decide whether it intended to wake was an entirely different sort of torment.

The return of the Force had made it worse before it made anything better.

On Thyferra there had been nothing. That terrible emptiness had at least denied him the ability to search for something that was not there. Here, Xander could feel Velda again, and he had remained acutely aware of her presence ever since. He had followed every subtle change without needing to touch her, looking for reassurance in something as simple as the continued persistence of her life.

When her consciousness finally stirred through the Force, Xander did not move from where he stood beside the bed.

Relief came first.

It struck with enough force that he almost laughed, though nothing resembling amusement escaped him. His shoulders relaxed instead, releasing tension that had been buried there since the moment her distress beacon had sounded. Xander watched quietly as Velda gathered herself, allowing her the dignity of finding her bearings without immediately crowding her.

Then she looked at him.

The distance between them disappeared, and Velda sank into his embrace.

"You came for me...."

Xander's arms closed around her.

There was nothing restrained about it.

One arm wrapped securely around her waist while the other settled across her back, holding Velda against him with a firmness that betrayed everything his expression usually concealed. Xander closed his eyes and lowered his face against her hair. For several seconds, the man who always seemed capable of finding exactly the right words had none.

He could feel her.

That simple truth overwhelmed everything else.

"I told you I would."

His voice was quieter than usual, roughened slightly by hours spent waiting for this exact moment. Xander remained there rather than immediately loosening his embrace. The memory of Thyferra was still too close. He remembered the signal appearing on his receiver and the sickening realization that he could not feel her anywhere. He remembered finding her unconscious and the uncertainty that followed. Even after getting her away from that world, some part of him had refused to believe she was safe until now.

Xander finally drew enough distance between them to look at her. His hands remained on her, one resting at her waist while the other rose carefully to the side of her face. His thumb brushed gently across her cheek as his eyes searched hers, confirming for himself what the Force had already told him.

"You activated that damned beacon, Velda." A small breath escaped him, somewhere between exasperation and relief. "Do you have any idea what went through my mind when that thing started screaming at me and I couldn't feel you?"

There was no accusation behind the question. Xander had wanted her to use it. That had been the entire point. He had simply never considered what receiving the signal would actually feel like until it happened.

His gaze softened.

"I would have torn Thyferra apart looking for you."

The admission came without grandeur. It was simply true.

Xander's thumb moved once more against her cheek before his hand slipped behind her neck, drawing her gently back against him. There would be time for questions. He wanted to know what had happened in that bunker, why one of her lightsabers was missing, and what circumstances had left Velda unconscious by the time he reached her. He wanted names, explanations, and eventually consequences.

For now, none of them mattered as much as the woman standing in his arms.

Xander pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead.

"You gave me one rule on Corellia," he said softly. "I believe it is only fair that I give you one of my own."

His arms tightened around her again, unwilling to surrender the tangible proof that she was alive.

"Next time you decide to nearly die, you are required to give me considerably more notice."