Chapter 55

Watch me go on a writing streak! Cheers and enjoy. Last edited on August 25th, 2017.

Torian woke before Raidre did. His body cradling hers, arms wrapped around her. His whole body ached from last night's adventures. It was Raidre's fault, she was too hot for his own good. He leaned into her even though it kind of hurt to move and inhaled. He now knew why she always managed to smell like citrus and flowers. He probably smelled the same now. He began to disengage himself from her, he started slow, but realized she was sleeping like the dead and just got up.

She slept and even snored a bit. He checked the chrono, it was past 9 am. Torian smiled, must have been a while since she slept so much in one sitting. He blamed round three for her exhaustion. He also blamed her for having gotten him worked up enough to have a round three.

He stretched; his back cracked and popped. He stood and searched for pants.

Torian found his crutch and lumbered out of Raidre's room. He was going to quietly slink back to his bunk when the smell of caf drew him to the galley instead. His nose led the way and he found himself, half naked and facing Chère as she held the caf pot. Torian cleared his throat as Chère stared at his uncovered chest, mouth agape, slack jawed and even her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose.

Torian coughed and looked away. "Um… Sharing?"

Chère cleared her throat and shook the sense back to herself. "Oh, why, yes. Of course!"

She turned away and poured caf into two mugs. Torian sat down at the table and Chère handed him one of her two mugs. She sat across the table from him.

"So… Sleep well?"

Torian inhaled the coffee, eyes closed. Raidre had picked this, he could tell but how dark and rich it was. It also smelled of both fruits and nuts. He took a sip. He groaned in appreciation.

"Cherries."

Chère starred. Torian noticed. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, slept good. You?"

Chère nodded. "Did not take you for a coffee connoisseur?"

Torian shrugged. "Raidre brings back the good stuff." Torian gestured to Chère's mug with his own. "After hints of cherries and uj, but strong." Torian smiled as he looked away. "Favorite."

Chère frowned. "Yours or hers?"

Torian shrugged. "Both, I guess."

Torian felt the weight of the silence between them, and then Raidre walked into the galley in shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Torian smiled.

"Morning- " she began, but she stalled as she noted their guest.

Raidre spotted Chère, and Chère stared at Raidre. "Oh! Hey there."

Raidre was not exactly a sight for most eyes with half her face scarred from burns. That side of her head had never managed to grow a full set of hair, so she kept it short and shaved on that side. To lessen the gruesomeness of her scars, thorns had been tattooed on the burns. The artist had talent, he had managed to paint detailed thorns on her uneven skin. Torian thought that she looked great, especially since she had let the other side of her head of hair grow out. The asymmetry suited her, and it was nice to see how her hair lightened and became redder as it got longer.

But to be fair, for someone who didn't know her or wasn't expecting to meet her, Raidre could be a bit of a shock. Especially since she was as tall as most men and wide for a girl to boot. Sure, she had all the right curves and a tiny waist, but in the baggy shirt, Chère couldn't see any of her delicate features. All she saw was a tall, wide woman with half of her face scarred and tattooed over. Torian was glad she didn't drop her cup. Raidre didn't even skip a beat. She gave Chère a charming smile and bit of room.

"Good morning, Miss?"

Chère shook away her shock, again, and responded to Raidre. "Chère Megadol, charmed."

Raidre nodded. "Sorry, I didn't know you were here, I would have dressed if I knew we had company." Raidre said gesturing to her bare legs.

Torian was glad she didn't know. He liked her legs and had never seen them bare before last night- times in the med-bay didn't count. Those weren't fun occasions.

Chère shook her head. "Please, do not feel obliged to accommodate me. I have been at the receiving end of your hospitality for quite some time. This is your home, please be at ease even with my intrusion of it."

Raidre blinked and poured herself a mug of caf from her peripheral vision. "Wow, you're like, fresh out of Dromuund Kass, aren't you?"

Torian tried to keep his humor to himself, but he breathed into his mug and a bit of caf ended up in his face. Chère smiled.

"I suppose it is that obvious." She said as she stared down at her mug, cheeks red.

Raidre smiled, pulled out a chair and turned it around so that its back was facing the table. She sat down on it and sipped her caf, her torso pressed against the back of the chair, free forearm resting on the top.

"Maybe, but that's alright, you be you."

For a moment, they sipped in silence and Torian went back to enjoying the smell of the caf. Torian noticed Chère was watching Raidre like a hawk and shrugged it off. He finished his cup and stood.

"Ladies. Off to physio with Kevain."

Raidre lit up. "Kevain's here too?!"

Torian smiled and nodded. "Corridan's been coming and going too. Mako's been happy."

Raidre smiled. "Oh, I bet. Man, I've just been missing all the fun!"

Torian nodded. "You did all the work, we all played."

Raidre pouted. "No fair!"

Torian shrugged. "Later."

Raidre waved as Torian departed. She looked back at the little blondie. "So, how has he been?"

Chère sipped her caf. "He has made considerable progress-"

Raidre clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "You know that's not what I meant."

Chère frowned a little. "I have a patient relationship with Mr. Cadera, I cannot tell you what we discuss. "

Raidre smiled and shook her head. "Also, not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, pray tell?"

Raidre quirked a brow. "Sorry to annoy you. Just wondered if his 'étât d'âme' in general had improved or if he still was being too hard on himself?"

Chère bristled but went back to her caf. Raidre frowned at the girl. "I'm sorry, have I offended you?"

Chère slammed her cup down. "No."

Raidre starred. "So, what did I do?" she finished with a laugh though her brows were still quirked with confusion.

Chère crossed her arms and glared at Raidre. "It is difficult to gauge how Mr. Cadera feels about himself when you're all he ever talks about."

Raidre blinked, her face gone completely blank. "What?"

Chère just continued to glare, and Raidre burst out laughing. Chère only glared more. Raidre wiped tears from her eyes and sighed. "Awe, I'm sorry. Want some tips?"

Chère bristled. "I am a professional, I do not need 'tips' from someone who knows nothing about therapy and psychological care."

Raidre's face set, the features did not get hard, but the mirth was drained from her eyes. She took a sip of her caf, set down the mug, and laced her fingers over the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry that Torian hasn't taken a shine to you. He can be difficult to win over."

Chère continued to glare, but the anger was cut at its knees by Raidre's words.

"I apologize," Raidre continued. "For any offense, I may have inadvertently leveled at you. I don't wish to tell you how to do your job, but as someone who happens to know Torian for over a year now, I felt it might be helpful to suggest to you that if you want Torian to talk about himself, it's best to ask specifics and avoid generalities."

Chère frowned, her anger forgotten. "Go on?"

Raidre nodded as she found common ground with Dr. Megadol's daughter. "Ask him about trophies, and he'll tell you about his hunts. Ask him about vodes and he'll describe Clan Ordo, ask him about his family and he will describe Karla and Corridan. You ask him about himself and he'll feel there's nothing to say because he takes no interest in himself. You gotta go around the pot a bit with him before he leaks bits here and there."

Chère nodded. "I did note that, but regardless of my attempts, he will not talk about his past."

Raidre shrugged. "Why would he?"

Chère frowned. "Our past experiences make us who we are today, they harbor both the events that mark our hopes and the events that shape our characters. They are essential!"

Raidre nodded. "All very true, but irrelevant to a Mandalorian."

Chère blinked. "Pardon me?"

Raidre smiled, her eyes softening. "Mandalorians will only care about the past if they owe someone a debt, or if there is bad blood between them. Otherwise, the past is done, so it doesn't matter."

"But-?"

Raidre chuckled. "I know, it boggles my mind too, but that's how Mandos roll."

Raidre picked up her mug and went to the sink. She opened the tap and began to wash it.

"But, if you think about it," Raidre said as she picked up Torian's cup and began to wash it. "Makes sense. If you stop and let the pains of your past burden you, how could you survive life as Mandalorian? You keep moving or you die young with this folk."

Chère looked up. "How do you do it?"

Raidre shrugged, walked over to Chère. "Done with that?"

Chère blinked but nodded. "Oh, why yes. Thank you."

Raidre took her mug and began to wash it as well. "I'd say I'm pretty much converted to their way of life now."

Chère nodded as she took a dish rag and began to wipe the mugs dry. "Yes, but how does one become 'converted' to a Mandalorian way of life?"

Raidre shrugged as she washed the suds off her hands and closed the tap. "Don't know, becomes habit you know. Kind of like being a medic is its own kind of lifestyle."

Chère shrugged. "As someone who studied the mind, I cannot say I know what that means."

Raidre leaned against the counter and shrugged as she crossed her arms. "Hmmm, okay. Ever study any Anthropology at Uni?"

Chère scoffed. "Of course, not-"

Raidre sighed. "Shame."

Chère gasped. "Whatever do you mean?"

Raidre chuckled. "Lady, culture is as much a part of a person's mind as their 'psyche' is. How can you get a clear and complete picture without taking that into account? You can't just look at nature, you have to look at nurture too."

Chère rolled her eyes. "I honestly cannot bear to have you lecture me on such matters."

Chère began to walk away.

Raidre laughed out loud. "Sure, you still won't get more out of him than what you already have."

Chère stopped and looked back.

Raidre nodded and went on. "Surprised your dad didn't teach you what he knew about Mandalorians, he knows a lot."

Chère sighed. "Father rarely visits."

Raidre nodded. "Ah."

Chère looked back at her. "Ah, what?"

Raidre suppressed a smile. "Nothing, I just feel like that explains everything."

Chère exhaled loud and all at once. Raidre walked up to the girl and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ask for specifics. Get him telling you stories and he'll go from clinical/objective Torian, to the real man Torian."

Chère frowned, but did not shake Raidre off. "Why are you helping me? You can clearly see that my ill-tempered behavior towards you is fueled by irrational jealousy- why would you help me?"

Raidre shrugged and put her hands in her short pockets. "I don't blame you for crushing on a pretty blonde boy with big blue eyes and a broken soul. Heck, I totally fell for the nurse syndrome with him several times."

Chère's eyes widened and she sighed. "I see."

Raidre shrugged again. "But you're a smart cookie. Pretty sure if you got to know him, you'd realize that you both come from very different worlds, and anything between you would be short lived."

Chère sighed and nodded. "I still do not quite understand how you can be so calm about this."

Raidre chuckled. "Probably because I know his type better than you."

Chère gasped and Raidre walked out of the galley.