It took three days of cooling his hot skin, three days of re-dressing his bandage, three days of either bargaining with him to drink the bitter herbal tea or watching him it gulping down and three says of forcing him to get something nutritious into his system.
It took her three days of quelling panicking thoughts when the fever seemed to gain the upper hand, three days of his whispered assurances in clearheaded moments.
It took three days where mostly only the healer set an eye on them, three days of wondering, fearing and hoping on behalf of the rest of the tribe members.
It took three days before the fever finally broke and everyone heaved a sigh of relief when Tulata broke the news to the others.
The younglings stared in fearful disbelief when Tharam finally emerged, with shaky legs, supported by Vayra. First, he only made it into the lounge area, but he was over the worst. Everyone was bustling around him, asking him if he needed anything until he growled. When he widened his range of activity to sit outside the younglings were hovering over him until he gnarled.
He was more or less fleeing them after he had realized that the adults were constantly eyeing him, passing too often to inquire about his needs. There were close to no exceptions, everyone had their special way to go about it.
Tulata kept it on the medical aspect. Using her scanner, checking on his temperature and concentrating on the healing of the wound.
Bril Rull tested his patience. He would stroll up to him with crude jokes or bawdy comments.
Fina Rull was tolerable, she had taken up to chatter about the everyday things and the younglings.
Dargak Kryban used him to test his culinary skills and he definitely did not complain about that.
Vayra was constantly keeping at his side. A quiet shadow that busied herself and let him participate in the little tasks of tending and mending. Her quietness what made him put up with the antics of the others.
Even Paz had made it a habit to pace his periphery, though he mostly kept quiet, conversing only with prompting nudges of his helmet. But there was something about him that had Tharam watch him closely in return.
Finally, he had enough, he used the exact moment when the huge warrior was scrutinizing him to make a show of rising where sat and wandering to the fallen trunk. An unwritten law had this place turned into exclusively his and Vayra's, where everyone left them alone.
When he heard the steps behind him slow down, he stopped. Just with a motion of his head he beckoned his al'verde to follow him.
He waited until the other man had also sat down on the trunk. "You want to talk." He didn't have to ask, it had been too obvious for him.
"Yes, there is something. Two things, actually." The heavy infantry sat hunched over, with his legs sprawled wide, his elbows resting on his knees, his visor pointing straight forward. A picture of calm confidence.
It was not often that the huge man wanted to hear his opinion, but there hadn't been the need often anyways. When he heard about the idea of the beacons and how Paz listed up the advantages and disadvantages, he genuinely knew what the man troubled about.
He was solely responsible for what remained of their tribe: Before it had been the Armourer's task to decide. Tharam could not relieve him of it, but he could state his opinion and he clearly saw the advantages.
No one would listen to static and be wiser. There was the risk that even their own people might miss it, but then it had been at least a try. And a hope that slowly built up in him: It could mean that he would get to travel a bit more. Due to his time of convalescence he was getting restless.
"What's the other thing?" He was watching with rising suspicion as the calm demeanour of the larger man seemed to become indistinct. The leather of his gloves started to creak as he wrung his hands, interlaced his fingers, formed fists.
"You are a clan of two?" It was a weird approach to what he suspected was to come, but he let the older man take his path and just nodded.
"You intend it to make it a clan of three?" That was a turn he hadn't thought his leader would take.
"What? Yes, I ... she …no, we need time. She hasn't … we haven't talked yet. Wouldn't mind joining her clan either." He realized that it didn't matter to him at all, as long as she wanted him to be a part of her life.
"What if … what are your sister's wishes if … when she …" Now the big man was getting closer to the point. He smirked knowingly beneath his helmet.
"Why don't you just ask her?" A vertebra cracked in the heavy infantry's neck at the sudden movement of his head. The dark blue helmet with its dented cheek part spun towards him.
He couldn't keep his chuckle silent: "I'm not totally stupid or blind. I can put two and two together and, in my calculation, it makes four. Literally even. Though the maths on my side will take longer."
He had ended with a sigh and was almost struck when the older man patted his knee. "There has been some progress already, so be patient."
After a short silence, his leader continued: "So, you don't mind my … intentions?"
The joy he felt seeped into his words: "Not the least. Though you make me lose my bet."
He snorted at how Paz spluttered: "Your bet?! Who?!"
He was careful when he revealed what the whole covert had been secretly doing: "Uh-huh. Actually everyone. Bets were on Tulata to ask you first. Three to one even."
His follow-up diversion was tactical: "Have you planned anything yet? About where or how? With our situation you could give it more consideration than just in which part of the sewer you're going to ask her."
"I … what? Ermm … actually, no I haven't." The gloves' creaking increased.
He hadn't planned to make it more difficult for Paz, so it was a spontaneous decision when he asked: "Do you mind Vayra to know? I would have to talk to her in order to help you out. If you wish so, that is."
"No, don't mind." He heard the low rumble of a chuckle: "After all, it will stay in the family … if – when it works out as you … as we all hope."
It was his time to be astonished about being a topic among the tribe members. He quickly cleared his throat before he asked Paz to send Vayra to him. As he watched the man leave, he regretted his decision, he felt reluctant to give up their cove, but it was not his decision alone.
He watched as the tall warrior approached her. Her head started to move between the man talking to her and him waiting for her. He waited until she had taken place next to him.
Quietly he started to explain about his sister and Paz when she interrupted him: "It's ok to tell him about our discovery. It will be a nice place for them. And if they want to say their vows in private then this is the most perfect place."
He watched her for a long moment: "Are you sure?" He slipped his hand under her chin to lift her head. When she finally also lifted her gaze to him, he repeated: "Are you sure? What about … us?"
There was a sudden shyness in her eyes which she hid quickly under her lashes. She inhaled deeply and a fine red coloured her cheeks: "As long as they don't occupy it constantly."
He grazed his thumb lightly over her lower lip, the ghost of a promise to her slowly parting lips: "We don't have to tell them. We can keep it to ourselves."
She looked quizzingly at him, then her blush turned fiercely red. He smiled and whispered "Guilty," and once again he wished the barrier between them away.
He offered his hand, palm up, fingers spread wide. Her hand fitted perfectly as she slipped her fingers between his. He curled his long fingers and gave her an encouraging squeeze. His visor never left her eyes as he slowly brought their hands up to rest his forehead against the back of her hand. It was a motion of only a few inches as he moved them to where his mouth lay hidden under the vertical line of his blue visor.
He pulled back when he saw a telling glittering in her eyes. She blinked several times, but she held his gaze: "But then … I mean doesn't your sister deserve it to be special, memorable. Without …"
Her voice dropped, but she continued: "Without her … you might have … di-not made it … and I ..."
He reached up and tucked the strand that had escaped her braid behind her ear: "That's why I would like to share this special place. We could take them there and … like … leave them to it."
It had been days since he had started strolling around, day he had been idle while the others had been busy. Days in which he had been recovering and gaining back his strength. He hoped she would agree to his suggestion.
She titled her head and gnawed on her lower lip until a smile brightened her face: "What are the chances that he …"
"… one hundred percent."
"And that they …"
"… ninety percent. We just need to plan it."
They both wore a conspiratorial smile when they had come to terms.
He eyed them, more and more he became uncertain. At first it was sweet to watch their tenderness. But something changed as they quietly talked and when both stepped up to him and asked him to be at the shuttle in three hours, he was sure they were up to something.
He helped Tharam to place the speeder in the hull. The warrior exerted a tensed expectation so that it made him burst out: "What!?"
"We provide you with the location and opportunity." The hunter was audible grinning at him, widely.
He could have slapped the comically tilted green-blue helmet. "You what!?" He felt that his stubborn ignorance added to the glee that emanated from Tharam.
"Are you only going to ask her or are finally making my sister an honourable woman." The teasing jest was loud in his voice. He balled his fists, he just knew that Tharam was wiggling his brows at him.
Slowly he admitted the excitement to spread and spill over. A warm knot in his throat made him swallow slowly. The man he was closest to among the warriors of the tribe and who he would soon be even closer by family bonds was preparing his riduurok for him. And he was not alone, Vayra had her share in it, too.
"What do I have to do?" He was just able to rumble under his breath in the rising thrill that made him pace up and down along the shuttle.
"Huh? Don't tell me you ..." The green-blue helmet shook in a shudder that ran along his shoulders. He could decipher the emotion that lay beneath.
"Di'kut. Not that. I'm fully aware of that. … More. Than. You." – You are not the only one who can make others feel at unease – With satisfaction he noted that not only Tharam's shoulders had become stiff, his whole posture had become statue-like. And he couldn't resist another verbal hit below the belt when he added with the most saccharine voice he could muster: "Please, do not hesitate to ask ...".
The younger man was audibly gawking and gasping for air. The strangest sounds came cranking through his vocoder. He was choking and coughing and completely inarticulate.
He bent over as his loud laughter shook his whole body. Only after he had sobered up he was able to continue: "Do I have to prepare anything?"
"No." Tharam was still choking and his voice was a pitiful croak.
She quickly found Fina and filled her in. Together they went to inform Dargak who was already busy in the kitchen area. But only after they had successfully diverted the attention of the small boy Liom, who seemed to be glued to her father, with a task to fetch something.
But they needed more helping hands. Fina was sent to get her husband and the older younglings to assist with the preparations, too. Only the youngest were kept out of the way so they couldn't spill the news.
She had calculated a close time frame and was sprinting to her shuttle. Both Nevarro warriors were eyeing her suspiciously when she billowed hidden beneath her dark cloak past them. But she only indulged the smaller one with a few whispered words before she set off.
Ariana, the capital city of Garos was within reach with the little time she had at hand. While she manoeuvred her shuttle, she studied the plans, descriptions and advertisements of the holonet. She didn't want to waste her time with searching for the stores she wanted to visit.
The city was impressive, but she had no time to admire its architecture, parks or any of the advertised attractions. She had picked a handful of vendors. She hurried from the port through the streets. She felt naked as only the fabric of a tight black shirt with matching trousers were hidden beneath her dark cloak. With her hood pulled deeply into her face she made her way into the first shop.
The looks she got while she awaited her turn were mostly curious. When the young man turned to her she smiled, strategy one would work just fine. Effectively she threw back the hood and let the cloak fall past her shoulders into the crook of her elbows. Her smile was radiant as she bashfully looked at him through her lashes.
When the handsome man's mouth opened and kept hanging open, she knew that the iridescent smoky-eye make-up was doing its job. Her dark red lips pushed into a pout, she used the most husky voice she was capable of to ask for the desired object.
She went even further when she bent over the counter to ask after Kyrprax in a low voice. The poor follow's eyes sunk into her cleavage. That the fourth button sprung open, revealing even more had not been her intention, but it enhanced the desired effect. And even more so when she asked to have it wrapped as a present.
As soon as the credits and purchased goods changed owners, she veiled herself into the cloak again. In the streets she nestled the buttons close again as her steps guided her to the next vendor. She used the secrecy of a dark alley to fish her helmet out of the bag that hang from her shoulder beneath the cloak.
She entered the dark room and looked around. The owner, an old gnarled Twi'lek just nodded and pointed at a variety on display: "Something for a lady to feel safe?"
She had set the vocoder lower to distort her voice even more to ask for what she had laid her eyes upon. The Twi' was harder to bargain with, but in the end, he even added the modified glowrod when she also asked him for both the power cells and the plasma cartridges.
She took the shortest way back to the port, her time was running short. When she set down the shuttle next to the ship father was already waiting with the container they had prepared. Carefully she added the two wrapped packages. A smaller compact one and a longer one, barely fitting into the container. Then she removed her helmet and she flashed him a bright smile.
Now only Tulata and Paz had to be summoned. Paz was found easily, he was instructing the younglings. To extract the healer from her latest tries at the gathered herbs proved more difficult. But she lured her with the prospect of more and a greater variety of herbs, which wasn't exactly a lie. She had seen some plants known for their remedy aspect.
With the three members of the tribe on board she set off. This time she landed the shuttle below the plateau and following the navigation system had her find the entrance soon enough.
"Everything in there is yours. You might require one or the other thing. Here's a com, we'll be back at the landing point." The lean warrior had sneaked his hand on her shoulder, watching her six in his own way. They waited until both their victims had disappeared in the tunnel.
When she turned to return to her shuttle he tugged at her cloak: "I've got a request. I want to go back to the hunting ground."
She couldn't have heard correctly: "What?" The emotions that invaded her were wrangling – anger and panic.
"The hunting ground, I want to go back and see after …" She hated how convinced he sounded.
"No." Anger was winning.
"We won't get surprised this time. We know what to expect. I want to."
"NO!" Panic was winning. She added more quietly: "Besides, it's been days. It has probably moved on."
"I don't think so. We could bring it something. It didn't attack me again when …"
She gave him a look which made him stop. "I will give you a fly-over, that's all." Under no circumstances she wanted them to face this threat again, especially as he was not fully healed yet.
She was relieved when he consented with a nod. All the way towards the shuttle and on the trip to the forest with the meadow she kept quiet. She noted how his visor took in the scenery below, he even adjusted a system of his HUD.
Then he pointed out: "There!" She heard the excitement and didn't have look to know what he had sighted.
Nevertheless, she turned the shuttle sharply around and changed the altitude to get a better look herself. He was right, it was still there, the remains of a fourth carcass made her hum in realisation of what the heavy infantry and the healer had done. They had also encountered the animal.
On her second descend the Boetay looked up. She pulled the lever and piloted the shuttle up and away.
"Wait. What? Where are you going?" He sounded distracted and upset.
"Hunting." She only gave him a side-glance and a nod, but she knew that he was grinning widely under his helmet.
She chose the dry plains and with the shuttle they gathered their game easily. After they shot the third kind of antelope, he inquired what she wanted to do with all the meat.
"Three parties to supply, us, the farmers and your pet." He didn't answer, but his helmet sank down on his chest.
When he chimed in in her chuckle, she heard a slurred sorry in between.
This time she let the farmers choose what they wanted to give them in return. She couldn't keep a straight face when she heard the agitated hum from the green-blue warrior who had again taken up his position behind her and slightly to her left.
She gave him a glance at the nervous behaviour of the eldest woman who did the trading today. First, she wondered, then she noted that he had changed his holster, it was not sitting against his right thigh, but against his left, his hand was hovering near.
"Diryc gar buy'ce. La haastal."
"I fear that the honey is not enough. Is there anything else we could trade you?" Her eye flickered towards Tharam again. He decidedly looked away.
"I don't know, you could decide on it next time. But …" She tactically stopped.
"Yes, please, say." She mused why the woman didn't want to have anything that she regarded obviously as debts.
"Tengaanar gar irud." She nudged Tharam with her hip.
"Tion'jor?"
"My … he got hurt, bitten by a Boetay. I was wondering if you have anything against inflammation."
"It has hurt your husband? How awful! Please wait a moment. I have something for you." With a speed unusual for elderly women she hurried back to her farmhouse.
Husband – her breathing had stopped for a moment as a wave of heat rolled down her neck. She let the comment pass and quickly concentrated on helping him to unclasp his vambrace and to roll his sleeve up. She had the punctures exposed when the farmer's wife came back.
"This is an old recipe, handed down from one generation to the next." She was already applying the yellowish ointment. "Say, is that poor animal still out there in the forest?"
"What do you know about it?" Her curiosity peaked.
"Not much, it seemed to have escaped some months ago. The owner and his hunters were not agreeable, to say the least."
The brave next to her was quick to intercept: "Does that mean … is it tame?"
"I don't know. With an owner like that you can't hold it against the poor creature if it prefers to not meet any humans anymore."
He almost growled: "He mistreated it? … Sorry." The woman had flinched back at his suddenly violent voice.
"He definitely didn't treat the other animals nicely, nor the people."
She felt the little tug at her cloak and when she looked at him, he emanated an energy like a child in front of a toyshop. She snorted, sighed, then nodded. Lastly, she shook her head with an expression of disbelief.
"Well, thank you very much. You can trade the surplus meat and maybe get whatever you need."
The small jar with the ointment was shoved back into her hands when she tried to pass it back to the woman. And suddenly she felt herself caught in a rather strong embrace: "Be safe." before the woman went back to her home.
He had seen her tense up, but never in a way like she did when the old Sundari woman dropped the bomb. Husband – he kept perfectly still, although he wanted to say, scream or do something, anything. All of a sudden, he felt like he was bursting with energy.
The woman had maybe seen him the second time and never spoken to either of them, yet her assumption about their relationship had flown naturally over her lips.
But soon his attention was drawn to what she had to say about the Boetay. He had his suspicions answered and his decision was set, he would try to help the young mammal. He knew that she thought him to be crazy, but the exasperated smile that she sent his way had him only more excited.
He was just waiting for the shuttle to set down and the hatch to open, the antelope was already slung over his left shoulder. But before she opened her shuttle, she donned her helmet and placed a rifle in the crook of her arm
"This time I'm not going to take any chances." Her hand was still hovering over the panel with its blinking buttons.
He stepped closer to her: "This time you are with me." Slowly he lowered his eyes and his helmet. The vocoder covered his quickened inhale as she placed a hand on the dented cheek part and leant in to meet him. He didn't feel the weight of the animal on his shoulder anymore. When he lifted his eyes, they were only met by the red T-visor, but he knew she was looking at him.
He nodded shortly his readiness and she let down the hatch. Both were stunned by the sight that greeted them. The houndlike creature was lying just outside the forest, eyeing them and waiting. Then vaguely and tentatively the tail twitched, a shy wagging, accompanied by a whine.
He stepped down the ramp and towards the beast. Only the shadow on the ground told him what was going on in his back. Instinctively she had started to aim and move so that she had always a free range.
He stopped immediately when the animal crouched lower: Slowly he let the antelope slide off his shoulder and lowered himself on his haunches. His blade was sharp and he quickly he had a foreleg detached and held it out to the creature.
It came forward haltingly and he noted it still limped badly. Its snout was able to reach the presented leg and instead of grabbing it, the young predator lay down and started gnawing at the meat.
He could feel his pulse beating a hard rhythm in his throat. Those fangs were really close, but with its half-closed eyes the animal contently tugged at the presented meat.
He guessed that any training of these animals was time consuming, so the man keeping it previously must have invested some time already. He tried to calculate the time it had been on the loose and in ownership to estimate its age.
"Can't be much older than a standard year. Can you give me the ointment?" He kept his voice steady and low.
It was a deep sigh he got for an answer: "Seriously?"
"Want to earn its trust, don't we? He grinned widely under his helmet.
"We – huh?!" She inched closer, the rifle still pointing at the animal to hand him the little jar.
He inched closer, still holding the foreleg as a peace offering. When he was able to place it between the paws of the Boetay he let go. His heart was racing as the neck stretched and the large head was able to reach his hand.
The animal started sniffing intensely and then its tongue lapped out, darting over his gloved hand. He heard the sharp inhale and muttered warning behind him. He was confident when he uncurled his fingers and lay them against the underside of the muscular jaws.
A shiver ruffled up the brown coat with its black stripes. Then he tried his voice, cooing soothingly, softly with his dark baritone. When the Boetay reacted with a whine and a deep inhale he got bolder. He trailed his hand down the throat of the beast. It took only a few strokes and it leaned heavily against his caressing hand.
"It's drooling." She sounded suspicious and he heard a tint of worry.
"It likes it." He needed to sound at least twice as sanguine as he felt. It was still risky what he planned to do, but it was essential to help the hurt Boetay. He eyed the wound on its flank, still a number of inches out of his reach.
Keeping his left on its throat he added his right to slowly stroke along its back. He had to move back as the large body shifted and the animal came to lie on its side. Jumping back and out of its way was now impossible, his feet were buried beneath it.
Further and further he reached back, never lessening his caressing of the weighty neck. He gave the fur near the scab a testing tug. The massive head shot up with a whine.
Out from the corner he saw her rifle coming up, quickly he stopped her in a hushed voice: "Wait."
He let the weakened animal sniff at the opened jar. Slowly the head moved over his glove and up his vambrace – he could feel a soft whimper escaping the animal's throat – further up where the Sundari woman had treated him with the ointment.
"Do you think it remembers?" He genuinely wished to know.
He struggled with his glove, had to step his heel on it to get it off. Again, he stroked along the back and marvelled at the softness of the fur. This time, when he neared its flank, it kept still. Just its tail wagged a bit.
"I believe they are more sentient than people think." She doubted him, but he didn't blame her that she never lowered the rifle, aiming unwaveringly at the prone predator. He had to admit that it made him feel safer, and he continued. He started with the deeper part of the laceration and softly applied the ointment.
"Think it knows that I want to help." He knew he wouldn't get an answer, she was just too much concentrating on every reaction of the in itself dangerous carnivore.
When he had finished his treatment he slowly inched back. It instantly earned him a forlorn whine. He looked up at her and tilted his helmet.
"No."
"It's a foundling." He tried his best puppy voice.
"No, it is not. It's the prime predator of Garos."
"It's not grown yet, still a … baby?" He rose his voice with the last word.
"What will you tell the others. We have younglings, they would be in danger."
He noted how she said we and how protective she acted over them. He tried another strategy: "It can't hunt."
She let out a short and annoyed sigh: "Then we do the hunting until it can provide for itself again. End of story. Now come."
He heard her curse in more than five languages all the way back into the cockpit. When it came to their own foundlings, she was right, but he had a feeling that time would tell, maybe even quite soon.
The container was bulky and after some time in the narrow tunnel heavy to manoeuvre. Probably every single person of the tribe had added something. But all the discomfort was forgotten as he saw the eery beauty of the tunnel with its shimmering streaks and dots.
The more amazed he was when they entered the crater: "No wonder they didn't have time to explore another cave. Don't want to imagine what they have been doing here."
He felt the anger rise, but it vanished in thin air at realizing that Tharam and Vayra were really sharing this wonderful place with him and Tulata to … he felt as if face was covered with melted iron and the wave of heat was experiencing spread further down, engulfing his whole torso.
He needed a distraction, he squatted down and looked up the woman he loved: "I wonder why it is so heavy."
She moved to be able to look over his shoulder as he opened the container: "Presents?"
"Is that a note?" She pointed at a piece of rolled skin, a piece of red thread held it together.
He handed it to her: "What does it say?"
Open afterwards.
They both stared at it. What he then pulled out had them more and more astonished. A pelt, two cushions, a bottle with a dark red liquid, two sturdy glasses, covered plates that smelled of different kinds of food.
When he unrolled the pelt a bunch of flowers rolled onto the ground. As she bent to pick it up it dimmed on him: "Those kriffin' …."
She turned towards him and holding the flowers to her chest like she did silenced him at once and his personal heating system decided to go to the next higher setting.
"What does that all mean." He could hear her amazement, her curiosity and her suspicion.
"Tharam said something about helping me out, but I'd never have thought …," he trailed off.
He could her hear her amused snigger, besides that she kept silent and waiting while his helmet kept staring at her.
"Tul'ika." His throat felt sore all of a sudden. It was now or never. With all the effort everybody had put into the preparations it would be a shame to let them go to waste.
"I wanted to ask …" His voice sounded so coarse even though he had just cleared his throat several times.
"I was wondering ... Makers … I'm not made for this." His impatience got the upper hand. "I'm sorry, I wanted this to be right and it seems everyone helped with making it special. Only I don't seem to be able to come out with the right words."
Heating system on – check, full setting – check. He was burning in his own suit.
"Why don't you just try the old-fashioned, simple, four words?" Her voice was a nervous whisper as she prompted him.
And suddenly everything seemed so easy. He thought about what he had once observed by accident on Tatooine and switched position, he came to a knee before her: "Tul'ika will you marry me?"
He didn't have time to worry about her answer as she leant down and pressed her forehead against his: "Ner kar'ta. I already feared that I'd have to ask you. Of course, I will."
"When should we …" It wasn't like he wanted to pressure her, but as he looked, with everything at their disposal, the right time would certainly be now.
"They have set everything for us it seems, even wedding presents." She sounded slightly embarrassed, she was probably as nervous as he was.
Slowly he rose, peeled off his gloves and held both hands out for her to hold.
Their bare hand entwined.
"Mhi …," he watched her as she nodded encouragingly.
"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."
He wondered if she could understand him at all, his voice became more and more hoarse, it was about to break, but she didn't seem to mind as she repeated the words, with a shaking in her own voice, to seal their riduurok.
To lean in and simple share a Keldabe kiss was no longer enough, had never been enough. Now they didn't need the secrecy of darkness anymore.
He was even more nervous when he heard the hiss of his helmet's seal too loud in his ears. Her hands reached up to cover the dented check part and his heart panged at the sudden and irrational fear that she didn't want to see him at all.
When one of her hands started to unlatch the seal of her helmet he started breathing again.
"Together." She just knew how to ease the squished feeling.
"And no running away." He had seen her hands were as shaky as his.
"Nope, no running." Her quivered inhale did things to him, had his own breath hitch and his heart stutter.
He counted down from three, he watched as long as the vertical line of his visor allowed, he squinted and blinked several times and then just gazed as his mouth slowly fell open.
Everything blurred on the edges, he only registered the woman before him. How her dark blonde hair just barely touched her shoulders, how her amber eyes sparkled, how her full lips curled into a smile, those lips which he immediately wanted to kiss.
"N-no ru-running?" He wasn't sure what she saw that made her smile. He only knew what he saw when he looked into the mirror of the ship's fresher just this morning. An angular face, the crew cut of his jet black hair definitely needed a re-do, strong chin almost hidden beneath a likewise coloured five-day beard, if it weren't the two greying streaks leading down from the corners of this mouth, grey-blue eyes almost matching his armour in colour.
He did need no further explanation when she curled her fingers under the topmost part of his cuirass and pulled him against her, he did need no further assurance when her lips crushed against his.
It left them both breathless and he was barely able to mouth: "Shall we open …"
"… Afterwards."
Only too happily he obliged.
Mando'a
al'verde: commander
riduurok: love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement
di'kut: idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)
Diryc gar buy'ce: Lower your helmet
La haastal: She is scared
Tengaanar gar irud: show your arm
Tion'jor: Why
Ner kar'ta: lit.: my hear; my love
Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde: We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors. A Mandalorian marriage contract.