Private The Things We Carry

[Mia Monroe]

Nightmares were a constant part of life. Most of the time the form of them faded quickly enough that they were just uncomfortable impressions of emotions she could breathe through until sleep claimed her again. But occasionally they were visceral and so real she was sure she could touch them, the taste and smell of them lingering.

Mia lay staring at the ceiling above her bunk, the racing of her heart loud in her own ears as she tried to steady her breathing, fingers of anxiety digging claws deep into her chest. The rest of the group was quiet, someone snored loudly making her jump.

Well, at the very least, she hadn’t called out. Quietly and carefully she rolled from the bed, pulling her boots on and slipping from the tent. The makeshift barracks had been set not too far from the mines in which they were to descend into in the morning.

A fire still burned outside it and Mia moved around it, picking through supplies in search for something calming, acutely aware of the slight tremor in her hand and the echo of screaming still rattling in her head. She could still smell the blood, still feel it sticking to her hands as she scrambled to try and stop the bleeding.

Her fingers found a tin, flicking it open to find tea inside. It would do. She busied herself, filling a kettle, reinvigorating the fire and setting it above it to boil, trying to find some comfort and control over the ache in her chest.

Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mia Monroe

The night air felt cool on her skin as Adelle ran through katas, quick at first and then gradually slowing them down. The exercises gave her something else to focus on, gave her body an outlet for the adrenaline that surged through her with the nightmares. Starting out fast and gradually slowing the pace helped her control her breathing, helped bring her down from the fight or flight panic. Phantom had been left behind, much to the spukami’s consternation. If the Sithspawn escaped, she didn’t want Phantom to be in harm’s way. Which meant katas and all her usual tricks to help her sleep. The first few rounds of katas had helped.

So why in the Whills’ names was she still having problems?

Adelle could feel her heart hammer in her chest. Adrenaline shot like lightning through her veins. Anxiety squeezed her chest like some jungle python. Adelle stopped and held the position, a transitional pose in Soresu that extended an arm. The tremor she felt in her muscles never made it into actuality.

Which meant this reaction wasn’t hers. It was an echo from someone nearby.

The wooden staff she’d been using in lieu of her lightsaber whipped through the air as she finished the Soresu kata and once more held the pose, breathing through the echoes of someone else’s PTSD episode. The barren earth beneath her feet felt cool against her bare soles. A gentle breeze iced the sweat she had worked up. The distant sounds of the Iron Wolves camp and someone stirring in it came faintly. An acrid tang of smoke wafted on the air. Mandalore. She was on Mandalore, camping outside Ronion’s mines with the Iron Wolves, and would enter tomorrow morning to clear out the Sithspawn that still claimed them.

It would be enough. Adelle took one last breath and relaxed as best she could, before turning and walking back through the dark to the camp. The amber light of the fire seemed blinding after who knew how long out in the pitch black wastes. Adelle said nothing, made no noise as she approached, bare feet padding across the earth. When she could actually look without the light stabbing her eyes, she very nearly turned around to walk back into the wilderness and sleep under the stars. Warmaster Monroe sat in front of a reinvigorated fire, staring at the flames. Adelle could still turn around. It didn’t look like Monroe had noticed her.

But Monroe’s fingers trembled.

Adelle stepped into the ring of firelight, aware that her own appearance was probably as haggard as Monroe’s. The tank top and loose pants she wore were soaked with sweat and coated with dust from her katas. She said nothing as she walked to the opposite side of the fire, still incredibly wary of the Warmaster and her reactions. The staff she set on the ground beside her, doing nothing to hide it but also trying to not draw attention to it.

Adelle nodded at the kettle. “There enough for two?”

 

[Mia Monroe]

She should have felt Adelle coming, she should have heard her. No one's steps were truly silent and she was familiar enough with Adelle's presence in the force that her voice and appearance at the edge of the firelights reaches should have earned nothing more than a glance. Instead, Mia jumped, her right hand snapping to the knife sheathed on her boot as her head whipped round, the fingers of her left tightening on the mug, blue eyes flashing with reflected firelight.

The silver blade had slid out by an inch before recognition kicked it and she caught herself, losing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d sucked in as the tension eased from her shoulders, the blade sliding back into place with a click. It took another second or two for Adelle’s question to reach the depths of her brain that weren’t entirely consumed by her nightmares.

The Warmaster rose, a gesture towards the log seating her only answer as she moved away to find another mug. “There’s always enough for another.” she said finally, returning to set a second mug down to fill while Adelle settled.

Every movement after that was careful and deliberate; the placing of the strainer, the collection of the kettle from the flames with bare hands, the slow and steady pour, careful not to splash or have any leaves escape into the tea itself.

“Pretty sure it's chamomile and lavender,” she said, setting the kettle back on its hook before lifting the mug to offer Adelle. “A little too floral for my taste but it was all I could find.”

She settled back onto the seat, wrapping her hands back around her own mug and letting herself be drawn in by the flames again, eyes glazing briefly before she caught herself drifting again, her fingers shifting on the mug as the sensation of drying blood returned to them.

Mia took a breath and pulled herself away, looking across at Adelle, truly looking, noting her appearance properly for the first time.

“You look about as bad as I feel.”

Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mia Monroe

The reaction had not gone unnoticed but the katas’ repetition had done their work and Adelle held back her own instincts. She did, however, make a mental note of it. If ever she found herself approaching the Warmaster in a state like this again, she would do so with an abundance of caution. As she sat on the log opposite the fire, Monroe stood and rummaged through the supply crate nearby, coming up with a second mug. Her face held an intense focus, as if she were pouring all her attention into what she was doing in the moment.

“Pretty sure it's chamomile and lavender,” she said, setting the kettle back on its hook before lifting the mug to offer Adelle. “A little too floral for my taste but it was all I could find.”

Adelle could smell the floral lavender long before Monroe handed the mug over and wrinkled her nose.

“I’m gonna have to see about getting just chamomile requisitioned,” Adelle said. “Can’t stand lavender.”

Still, she took the tea anyways. Just chamomile or a combination of chamomile and mint would have been her preference but a warm cup of tea had always been part of her ritual for settling after a nightmare. Well, tea or whiskey, one of the two. Monroe returning to her seat should have gone unnoticed but the lessons with Quinn left Adelle more aware of the minute motions a person had. The Warmaster’s eyes were distant but there was a tightness to her jaw. Her grip on the mug shifted, as if bothered. Then with a breath, Monroe came back into herself, looking across the fire.

“You look about as bad as I feel.”

Adelle snorted. “Could’ve been worse.”

Monroe’s words confirmed it. It had been her reaction that Adelle had felt. Even if she hadn’t said anything, the faint odor of blood in the Force would have told on her: it felt strongest around the Warmaster. Given the stories she’d heard about Monroe, it made sense.

And she knew it was a topic best left alone.

“You plan on taking your bes’kad tomorrow?” she asked. A stupid question perhaps, but Adelle had already taken the liberty of imbuing both Kael’s and Lio’s melee weapons with the Force, teaching them the basics and trusting other Wolves to take care of the rest of the packs. If Monroe’s blade hadn’t yet been imbued with the Light, fighting the Sithspawn would be that much harder.

Courtesy tags: Quinn Varanin | Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata | Liorra

 

[Mia Monroe]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

The corner of Mia’s mouth curved into a small smile though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m normally better prepared but…”

But she hadn’t expected them, despite the fact that if they were going to surface anywhere it was here. Her and @Itzhal Volkihar’s first conversation had been about how there was a possibility that the mines were disrupting sleep, granting nightmares to those who had been working near them. She should have been better prepared.

She shrugged, sipping the tea, her nose wrinkling slightly. So long as it did the trick, she didn’t really care how it tasted, if anything the bad taste simply gave her another sense to focus on, drawing her steadily away from the things that flickered behind her eyes.

Her gaze slipped past Adelle, glossing again as shadows of nothing moved behind her. This time she caught herself quicker pulling herself away from the darkness as Adelle asked her question. She smiled, genuine, but tinged with sadness as she realised that Adelle not only knew, but was actively keeping the conversation away from it.

“There isn’t a battle that I don’t take my beskad into.” she answered simply. “Why do you ask?”