Private Through the Fire and Flames

[Iandre Athlea]

When Zara said she had it bad, Iandre wasn't sure how to take it. Her tone wasn't teasing or mean, but it wasn't anything she had ever heard from her friend. Coming up behind her, she gave Zara some support as she felt it was needed. The fact she leaned into her touch cemented that idea in her mind.

"You've kept people distant for too long. Take another chance and open up. I thank you for allowing me to wiggle my old soul in."

Listening to her answer, Iandre remained silent. Her face gave away very little, but there was a twinkle in her eyes and a slight curve to her mouth.

"He's the one that carried you out on Taris, right?"

Spending most of her time on the station above Bastion, Zara and Rellik were the first and only people she knew on the surface of the planet. She'd have to change that if she was going to be living among them.

"Safer from what?"

It was a serious question, and she kept her hands on Zara's shoulders. Feeling her friend needed the support, even if it wouldn't help her keep on her feet. That's what a friend was for. To help support and tease when it was needed. Right now, at her lowest, Zara needed a solid friend, and Iandre was there for her.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara's reflection silently stared back at her, betraying everything she tried not to say out loud. Her shoulders rose and fell with a quiet breath beneath Iandre's hands, and her fingers curled faintly around the edge of the vanity, as if she needed something to grip besides her own instinct to bolt.

"It's… difficult," she said, carefully, the word feeling like a fragile coin passed between them. "Letting people in."

Her eyes flicked to Iandre's in the mirror, almost defensive, almost ashamed.

"It's not in my nature," she went on. "I grew up in a world where that wasn't safe. Where the moment someone saw too much of you, they either used it or left. I learned early that it was better to be… too much. Too sharp. Then no one gets close enough to find the soft parts."

"I don't like most people," she admitted, her lips twitching faintly. "But I like you. That's why you're here. That's why I let you in… a little."

When Iandre mentioned Rokul, Zara huffed quietly. "Yeah. That's him. He's the one who knocked me out cold on Taris."

Her mouth curved up faintly. She didn't sound angry at all.

"He probably saved my life. Saved a whole diplomatic incident. I should hate him for that, but… I don't. I think part of me's grateful someone had the spine to stop me. Not many do."

Then came the question. The quiet one. The serious one.

Safer from what?

Zara stilled. Her brows knit together. She opened her mouth, then closed it. For once, she didn't have a clever retort waiting. Just silence. After a long pause, her voice came quieter, slower.

"…Maybe from myself."

Stopping to think again.

"Maybe from being alone."

She shook her head lightly, golden strands falling around her face as she tried to laugh it off. "Stars, that's pathetic, isn't it? I sound like one of those hollow-eyed romance holodramas with the sad violins and the shirtless men holding wounded women."

But she didn't really laugh. Not all the way.

Then she turned her head, just enough to look over her shoulder at Iandre, not deflecting this time, not smirking, just searching.

"It's weird," she said, barely above a whisper. "I trust you. That's weird, right?"

She straightened up slightly and rolled her eyes skyward, some of her usual fire returning. "If you ever tell anyone I got sentimental in this dress, I'll throw you into the cake and the fountain. In that order."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Iandre Athlea]

As Zara spoke, Ian was silent; she held no judgment, nor did she interrupt as her friend bared her heart. Her eyes only had the compassion of a Jedi and friend when Zara looked at her.

"I'm glad you like me. You know, I think there will come a day when we aren't going to have to hide behind porcupine quills or Codes. We will be able to do what we want and be what we want. You already do that, but my past still holds me back."

Returning the faint smile, she nodded.

"I wasn't going to mention that. However, he did save you from likely being killed. Though...if he didn't, I think I would have."

Letting out a knowing 'ah' noise when she dragged an answer out of Zara, she would wrap her in a hug. Unless, of course, she pulled away.

"Thank you for the trust, it means the world to me. It isn't weird to trust a friend. One who is NOT going to harm you, and one who might knock you out and save you from yourself time to time."

If Zara had not yet gotten away from the hug, Ian would let her go and chuckled at the very real threat. Making a zipping her lip motion across her mouth, she stood next to Zara, and they both looked in the mirror.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

​

Zara didn't pull away from the hug. Her body tensed at first, an old instinct screaming that contact was a trap, that affection meant weakness. But then, an odd, unfamiliar pulse blossomed beneath her ribs, a kind of soft surrender she hadn't known she possessed. With a slow exhale, she leaned into Iandre's arms, her forehead brushing against her friend's shoulder, her weight shifting ever so slightly as if she'd forgotten how to simply be held without bracing for a fall. "Okay, but if you ever knock me out," she murmured into the fabric of Iandre's shirt, "at least make sure my hair looks good first."

The hug ended, yet the quiet warmth of the moment lingered. Zara turned back toward the mirror, letting her eyes sweep over her reflection. It wasn't a look of judgment, but rather a profound curiosity. She looked different, somehow; like someone who might still choose sharp armor and sharper heels, but had finally allowed a few pieces to be unlatched, just enough to truly breathe. "You know," she said after a beat, glancing sideways at Iandre with a lopsided smirk, "if anyone had told me three months ago I'd be standing here, in front of a mirror, wearing a backless gown, talking about my feelings with an apprentice of Laphisto? I would've assumed they were either completely drunk or trying to seduce me."

She turned again, facing her friend fully, her arms folding lightly across her middle, still careful of her bandages. "You're right, though," she admitted, her gaze softer now. "About someday. About not needing the armor." Her expression grew distant for a moment, a shadow of the galaxy's long, relentless conflict passing over her eyes. "Maybe one day the galaxy will get quiet enough for people like us to live without flinching first." Then, with a sharp glance toward the door and a wicked grin curling back to brilliant life, she declared, "But until then, we wear our dresses, spike the punch, and dance like people who survived a war."

She held up one arm dramatically, as if about to sweep Iandre into a waltz right there in the room, even if her healing ribs would protest the motion. "Now," she stated, her voice regaining its usual bite. "Help me figure out which shoes I can still walk in without looking like someone rewired my knees. I am absolutely not hobbling into that wedding like a recovering duelist, even if that's exactly what I am."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Iandre Athlea]

"Only the best!"

She muttered that in a falsely excited voice from the shoulder of Zara, who was sharing the hug with her. Even when she tensed up. Ian was stubborn and didn't let go until it felt natural. Standing side by side, Ian was relaxed, but looked like she could probably use a bit more sleep. Her color was fully returned, and the meat on her bones was recovered.

Giving Zara a large grin, she gave her an extra half hug and faced her when she turned. Raising an eyebrow, she nodded in agreement.

"Three months ago, I still hadn't been down on Bastion or had any exposure to many others here, including you. Now look at both of us. You're hanging out with Laphisto's apprentice and trying on dresses together. I've never had a friend, Zara. How am I doing?"

Looking down at their bare feet, she wiggled her toes and frowned with her lips to the side a little. Tugging at her ear lobe, she glanced at Zara's feet and then returned to the wardrobe to start chucking shoes around. Coming out with a scarf across her head, she presented two pairs to Zara for her approval. She went back in and pulled out some grey ones that were clearly meant to match her gown.

Rolling her eyes up, she saw part of the scarf on top of her head. Pulling it off, she threw it back into the wardrobe.

"Will those work for you, or do I need to dive deeper?"

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara let out a dry chuckle as shoes began flying out of the closet like a chaotic circus act. She watched Iandre pull scarves off her head as if she'd just emerged from a diplomatic summit gone terribly wrong, and for the first time in weeks, Zara's smirk wasn't forced.

"Congratulations," she drawled, reaching for the sleeker pair of shoes Iandre held out. "You're officially terrible at shoe retrieval, but surprisingly decent at friendship."

She set the shoes beside her, then looked up, her expression softening. It wasn't a fragile or uncertain look, but rather one of raw honesty Zara rarely allowed herself. "And you're doing fine," she added, her voice dropping. "Better than fine." She hesitated, searching for the right words, then sighed. "You're the only one who came to check on me, you know. Not the high council. Not the officers. Not the medics once they patched me up. Just you." Zara's gaze flicked away as if embarrassed by the weight of her admission. "And I didn't expect that. Which probably says something sad about me. But I'm glad you did."

She leaned back against the edge of the bed, nursing her ribs again with one hand while the other ran idly across the fabric of the dress in her lap. Then she added, quieter now, her voice almost a whisper: "You're a good friend, Iandre." The words landed with a quiet thud between them. Zara didn't scramble to take them back; she simply let them settle.

Finally, with a forced smirk, she gestured lazily at the wardrobe. "Now go dig in deeper. If I'm going to hobble into that wedding, I might as well do it in style."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Through the clatter and the clank of Ian searching for shoes, getting bopped on the head by a bag or two, she was listening to her friend. Giving her a large smile, the stoic woman Zara had met not too long ago was mainly gone. At times, she was still reserved, but she was learning to accept that emotions were natural and acceptable.

"Do you think it might be because you've tried to scare people away? Only a few brave enough to face getting stabbed would dare to get this close. So either I'm stupid or brave. Maybe both."

Shrugging her shoulders, she came crawling out of the wardrobe once again with two additional pairs of shoes. One was matching blue to the dress Zara was going to wear, and the other was metallic silver. Both would look exceptional on her feet, and Ian left it up to her to choose.

"Thank you for the chance to be your friend. I understand why you can be so prickly, but there is such a wonderful woman under the armor. I'm glad I've gotten the chance to see and know this side of you. Did I push too hard?"

Her grey eyes sparkled as she spoke, and held happiness both at what she'd heard and how Zara had accepted her into her life.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

​

Zara watched Iandre crawl out of the closet like some exhausted scavenger droid, arms full of shoes, dust in her hair, and a grin too warm to be legal. She snorted softly, shaking her head. This time, there was no sting, no true sarcasm behind it. "Brave," Zara said, almost gently, like correcting a test answer. "Definitely brave. Stupid people don't ask me that many questions."

Her eyes flicked down to the two new pairs of shoes laid at her feet. She considered them, weighing them as if they were weapons instead of mere accessories. Eventually, she reached for the silver ones, brushing her fingers across the metal sheen as if testing a blade's edge. "These," she decided softly. "I want people to remember every step."

Zara leaned back, sighing as Iandre spoke, watching her with a look that was hard to pin down: half fond, half something older and heavier. The woman who had fought her way to the top didn't trust easily; she usually didn't let compliments through the armor. But this one, this moment, she let it through. "You didn't push too hard," Zara said after a long pause. "You… stayed." She didn't need to say more.

Then, she looked away, faking casual. "And don't get sentimental on me. I'm wounded, not dead." But there was a flicker at the corner of her mouth. A smile, just waiting.

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Iandre Athlea]

"Well, that's good. I like being considered brave and maybe even smart."

Letting out a huffy sigh, she set the unwanted shoes to the side, and they would eventually make their way back into the closet. Nodding at the step comment, she tried on the grey ones. They were a little tight, but there were ways to stretch them. Iandre would be able to take care of that...

"When is the wedding?"

If a smirk could be friendly, she gave one of them to Zara. Turning it into a smile, she almost giggled but decided that probably wouldn't leave any sort of positive impression.

Flinging her hands up when Zara accused her of getting sentimental.

"I wouldn't dare! Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?"

Besides bringing her friend the delicious coffee, Iandre had thought about anything else.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

​

Zara gave Iandre a sideways glance, her brow arched as if she was just barely holding back from awarding a medal. "Brave and smart," she echoed, her voice bone-dry. "What a rare combination. You might actually survive this galaxy after all." Her gaze dropped again to the silver shoes, and she nudged them with her toe.

She admired how they caught the light, a quiet threat. They were elegant, dangerous, and just subtle enough to make a statement without screaming. She could walk into that wedding as if nothing had touched her; the blood on Taris would seem like a distant rumor.

"When is the wedding?" Iandre asked. Zara blinked, then actually laughed, a short, low, and slightly rueful sound. "I don't know. I've been too busy recovering from getting publicly yeeted into unconsciousness by a man twice my size." Her grin widened. "I assume someone's keeping track. I'll show up when the strings start playing and the Diarchs start looking nervous."

Zara eased back onto the bed, adjusting the dress in her lap and letting the fabric pool like liquid shadow across her legs. Iandre's next question came, "Is there anything I can get you?" For once, Zara didn't have some sharp remark loaded in the chamber. She looked at her friend and considered the question seriously. "Maybe just… stay a while," she said finally, quietly. "It's less depressing when you're here. I know that's an enormous compliment coming from me, so don't let it go to your head."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Tilting her head slightly and giving Zara an almost confused look, she didn't want any further elaboration on the comment. She liked the idea of surviving, though, and gave her a smile of thanks without voicing it. Looking at the silver shoes as her friend rotated them a little, she waited for an answer.

When it came, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a fitting answer and reaction to the grin Zara wore.

"You plan to be fashionably late?"

She expected she would show up later because she needed to travel down from the station above. Would she even be invited? Zara assumed she would be, so she did the same. Besides, she still had another dance to do with Rellik. One she wouldn't let him escape from.

With that thought on her mind, when Zara simply asked her to stay, she nodded.

"It is indeed. Thank you."

That was all she said about the compliment, and she certainly didn't let it go to her head. Through the next few hours until Zara was too sore or tired to continue, Iandre was a friend. They chatted, laughed, maybe even cried, but got to know one another on a level she never knew she needed.

"Good night."

Kissing her on the forehead if she allowed it, Iandre left her friend and looked forward to seeing her again.

Zara Saga