Sooooo...I wrote this chapter to mostly stand alone and neither progresses the story or reveals any new information really. While there are a few things that I put in here because they are part of the experience for the characters, it might create more questions than answers haha That said, the things that are here will be in the next chapter with a full explanation!
THANK YOU ALL so much and this is a HAPPY BIRTHDAY gift for you, my precious readers!
This chapter is NOT SAFE FOR WORK.
Translations are available at the end or at my tumblr for opening in a reference window:
simplicity-writes
ALSO, my Youtube channel has a music video of Torian and Raeyn based on Chapter 4-and another from Chapter XVI-I can't link my youtube channel cause... ...but you can find me on Youtube by pasting this after the Youtube url: channel/UCtcXjFxxiFyr0KWJfKnCoLQ
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Raeyn had been sitting up on the console in the bridge of her ship for at least an hour. She couldn't sleep, having spent too much time tossing and turning carefully in an effort to not bother Torian. Force knows the man needed to get some rest, and she hadn't been giving him much opportunity to—partly because they had been so busy with one universal meltdown threat after another—and partly because as newlyweds who had spent all of their lives saying "no", once the vows were spoken, there was not nearly enough time in the world for all the times they wanted to say "yes".
Sleep was at a premium these days—though she certainly wasn't one to complain about that, given the nature of her wakeful nights. Even when she did sleep the last few days it seemed like there was some distant thought nagging at her but she couldn't yet understand what it meant.
She had considered surprising Torian in bed, instead of leaving the room—she had several clever ideas about how to wake him, but when she had twisted a bit, his arm laying across her tummy, hand clenched against her hip, breath a gentle whisper on her face as he slept so soundly, she just couldn't do it even if he would have gladly invited her to.
Once she'd given up on sleeping, she carefully moved one of his fingers at a time to ease herself out of his arms, trying her best to not wake him. It took her ten minutes of painstakingly precise movements.
As she slid out of the bed, she pushed a pillow toward him, smiling when his arms instinctively reached out and pulled it into him, holding it against his chest—humming a soft, purring sound in his sleep. She reached over to the desk, grabbing one of his long shirts, buttoning it up quickly while she padded softly to the door, rolling the sleeves up above her elbows, tapping her toes as she walked, the metal cool and soothing to her tired feet.
They needed a real honeymoon. Somewhere warm, and maybe even rainy, and where there was no technology to interrupt them ten times a day—and some kind of crazy beasts to fight, a lot of them, so they could spend the days hunting and the nights staying dry and warm by a fire together under the moon—privately.
Without crew members.
As much as she absolutely loved her crew, she was ready to go somewhere they could do anything they desired, anytime they wanted, without fear of a million different scenarios, mostly involving Gault happening.
She smiled thinking of a waterfall she had read about once—it was described in such detail she could see it in her mind, a beautiful place and to her, she could picture a blanket and picnic laid out on a blanket there—Torian wearing some kind of white, soft, loose pants because…who cares, she decided first that she was allowed to do whatever she wanted in her fantasy, and the next time she was at the market she was finding a pair of them for him. White pants, and nothing else. They would discover the joys of water in a whole new way.
The fresher would never be an option. Never.
She was lost in her daydreams as she tapped the pad to open the door, cringing when the sliding metal whooshed open, looking back over her shoulder, holding her breath.
She paused, still seriously considering turning back around and utilizing her charms on him instead, but when she studied him to make sure the noise hadn't disturbed him, he was so absolutely adorable all curled around the pillow she gave him that she couldn't even justify waking him up.
She tiptoed out of the doorway and cursed softly as the panel made the clicking. grinding sound as the lock mechanism engaged. She turned to look back in the room, acknowledging that she really did need to get some rest when she bumped her forehead on the door. She shrugged figuring if he didn't wake when the door opened it was unlikely he did when it closed.
She walked slowly across the ship, admiring how many details they had filled their space with—making the entire ship less sterile and more of a moving, flying home. She breathed deeply the smell of an herbal plant Gault had brought on board making the center of the ship smell of sweet spices. It was peaceful in the ship with everything quiet, her crew sleeping soundly—she was thankful. Their lives had taken so many unexpected turns lately, so many people pulling them in multiple directions—they deserved a few hours of respite away from it all.
She climbed the steps to the bridge, smiling as the aural colors of the nebula they were passing cast it's colorful countenance on the interior of her ship. She'd climbed carefully up on the console, to the section beside the edge of the windows where she was sure to not push any buttons, or alter the course that Mako had no doubt diligently set. She crossed her legs and leaned into the palms of her hands, letting the light show outside the ship carry her away into her mind.
She'd been so lost in her thoughts, so mesmerized by the colors and the soft glowing lights radiating off of the equipment and casting colors across all of the glass surfaces—along with the gentle sounds of static from the stars-she didn't hear Torian enter the room. He wasn't trying to be stealthy, in fact, he had learned early on it was a very good idea to never sneak up on Raeyn. The woman had weapons everywhere.
She jumped when his hand reached around her, then relaxed when she felt his heart beat on her back, his hands spanning around her to rest on her stomach as he leaned down and around her to kiss her cheek.
"N'eparavu takisit," he mumbled, brushing her hair to the side to caress her neck with soft, fluttering kisses, breathing deeply in the scent that was uniquely hers, "thought you heard me."
She laughed quietly, "I was too distracted." Her hand reached up to grab his chin, lifting his face and pointing it out the window.
He stood still for a moment, taking the vision in, before he turned his face back to her, returning to the light nibbles he had been placing along her neck.
"Didn't notice," he sucked lightly on the skin behind her ear, making her pull her shoulders up a the ticklish yet pleasant sensation, "nothing compared to you."
His hand moved from her stomach to her shoulder, slowly running down her arm until he could lift it up in front of her, nodding toward the play of colors on her skin, dancing across the pale surface. The iridescent markings on her skin looking like they were shimmering and moving in the light—as if they were alive on her skin. She shifted sideways, stretching her legs to rest beside his own, turning her face up to him. He felt his breath catch in his throat as the lights from the nebula glistened and sparkled in a dance on the symbols on her face. Her eyes bright and warm under the wash of colors, staring at him, basking in the way he looked at her.
"Aren't you just a charmer tonight, Cadera," she reached out to grab the band on his pants, pulling him forward for an appreciative kiss, releasing him quickly, leaning down to rest her forehead on his belly.
"Naasad jehaat lar," he whispered, "ori'haat." His hands stroked her hair softly, looking out the window, then back to her below him, his brows furrowing as his eyes swept over her face, "Me'vaar ti gar?"
She shrugged, waving her hand lightly at him, "Ori di'kutla." She turned her head to lay her face against his warm skin, watching the lights play on the glass, his hand pulling her hair to over her shoulder, coming to rest on the side of her face, as if to hold her to him forever.
He grunted, a very familiar noise that could have a wide variety of meanings depending on the context. She considered herself an expert at deciphering the sound—concluding this one meant he wasn't going to accept her being dismissive of whatever was bothering her.
"Just the same nonsense," she reached around him with both arms, holding him tightly around his waist, "I just…can't get away from the dreams."
She glanced around the room, so much seriousness there, despite all of the colors that made the dull grays and blacks look cheerful. Out of all the rooms on the ship—this was the only one that was all business, all the time—the way it had to be she supposed, nothing in the room held any personality like all the other rooms in the ship. Blizz had even hung up some of the tiny mechanical toys that he created while they were stuck on an unusually long trade route in the engine room—making a long garland of them that hung from one side of the room to the other.
This space though, was desolate. Completely without personality. She had no happy memories associated with this room at all. It felt cold and ugly to her. There were no associations that were positive, nothing that said anything other than 'today we go to life or death'…and she wondered if there were ways that she could make the bridge more like the rest of the ship, more like a home.
"I'm going to bring some flowers in here," she muttered, squeezing his waist.
"Ni haa'taylir," he laughed lightly, glancing around the room wondering where she might put said flowers, "Tion'jor?"
"This place is too dead," she pulled away from him, tilting her head to look up to him, resting her chin on his stomach, "I can't find any peace or happy here, even with the beauty outside because this room has no soul."
He understood what she meant, it had taken him quite some time before they were married to understand that she had a very unique connection with things. Objects, places, rooms, all of it—everything. Her own memories of a given space or object became a living part of the environment, and she felt all feelings on a very deep level.
He leaned down, his lips lightly brushing hers, leaning his nose in to nuzzle hers, his eyes bright, his voice velvety, softly suggestive, "could help you with that."
His eyes moved over her skin as her face flushed, the color gradually moving down her neck into his shirt she was wearing, smiling against her lips, "Meh ni'copaanir."
"Could you then?" she softly bit his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth, laughing gently when he rolled his shoulders, his entire body shuddering visibly.
"You always do that," he laughed, his hands pulling up on her face so she would stand up in front of him, her eyebrows raising in question, "not innocent, same as when we train—use my weaknesses."
She leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing him quickly, "you love me for it, besides, that is what makes me such an effective hunter…which keeps us both alive."
He didn't argue, just leaned down, his hand stroking down her back, then pulling her forward and up from behind, his hands heavy and wide, pressing her body against his, already wired and thrumming with energy His mouth touched hers, softly, gently, invitingly. His body curling in to shelter her—the soft, sweetness of his lips like the softest pressure. His hands drew up into the underside of her hair, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as her hands held onto his forearms, clenching them tightly as their tongues began slowly melding into a greedy conversation, each of them pressing the other for more.
While not having any experience with women prior to Raeyn, as with any other skill or challenge he found he was a quick study—spending the time to map out her body, and learn her responses—he found that bringing her pleasure was a lot like the hunt—it required a certain level of innate instinct, a passion for the hunt as much as the kill, following the patterns, knowing your prey, paying close attention to details, and probably the most important of all—devotion and dedication to seeing the hunt through to the end.
He'd never had a problem with that in any context before, and it was not something he would willingly submit to failure when it came to his Riduur. He had used every single day since he'd met her studying her—and once they were married, he used his extensive knowledge to testing-experiment, and still, the discoveries were all still new and fresh. He had ascertained her experience hinged on a great deal of factors that he couldn't really understand—physical, emotional, spiritual—it didn't change the fact that unlike a sprint with the goal being to finish as quickly as possible—giving himself to her was an act of endurance—one of his most acutely honed abilities.
His most valuable discovery was that her most erotic zone was her mind. He had no trouble at all keeping her mind tuned to his desires and of the way he saw her, daily life itself being his best tool of seduction.
His mouth left hers, showering across her face, flutters of tiny kisses, his thumb pressing her chin up as his head ducked down to pepper her neck with kisses, moaning as his other hand popped the top two buttons off of her shirt as he dragged it down off her shoulder, the lights glittering across the symbols as they were exposed, his head following the path of his eyes, continuing the exploration with his mouth.
She gasped as he bit gently down on her shoulder. He leaned back from her, a few inches of space between them, Raeyn issuing a sound of protest. He didn't waste any time, drawing his hand sharply down the front of her shirt, the fabric yielding as he pulled, the sound of buttons scattering across the metal floor mixing with their labored breath.
"You're…serious?" Looking up at his face, the question answered in the blazing fire behind his eyes, her heart caught up in her throat as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him while he pressed her against the long panel of glass to the side of the console where she had been sitting, pushing his body against hers, rolling his hips roughly against her, a bold statement of his intentions, his desire all consuming.
Her breath shuddered, turning her head sideways as his mouth traveled to the spot where her neck met her collarbone, his tongue speaking straight through her skin, setting her on fire, seeking out the newly exposed skin as he drew the shirt to the side, tracing his tongue along the radiant ancient writing, following it across her chest, the designs and the light on her body causing his breath to catch in his throat, "Gar'akur kar'am, Cyare." His voice was reverent, worshipping—his tongue tracing the path of words, Raeyn instinctively pressing her chest forward into his mouth, offering herself.
"Gar mesh'la. Ni'copad duumir cetar taap'runi," as he uttered the words he feverishly made his way back up to her mouth, his tongue providing emphasis, "Gedet'ye."
She drew a sharp breath as his mouth left hers, "Here, Torian?"
His sights set to resume his adoration, moving slowly back down to her breasts, languidly, rolling his hips against her in a delightful pattern that made his intentions more than clear. Raeyn released a shuddering sigh, her body responding to his words and his attention, wanting to lay on the pyre for him, breathless as she murmured, "yes, that's a…a yes then…"
His body held her firmly against the wall as one of his hands ran down across her thigh, moving under the bottom edge of the shirt, caressing the curve of her thigh moving upward, cursing softly when he discovered she didn't have anything else on, his fingers whispering sweetly against the tender folds of her skin, coaxing, bringing her to life, preparing her, while his other hand came up to her face, his finger resting gently across her mouth as if to say "shhh"—she smiled wickedly, tilting her head back slightly, reaching forward to lick straight up his finger.
His body froze like an animal who had been threatened and was preparing to either flee or fight, his other hand pressed into her twisting, eliciting a base sound from her. Her body quaking as he bit down on the curve of her breast above her heart, a low warning coming from deep inside his body.
Encouraged, she twisted her head sideways and pulled his finger into her mouth, her hands squeezing his shoulders, lifting her body up to give him better access, as she rolled her tongue around it as she slowly sucked and pulled her head back, the vibration of her moan sending currents through his body, shivering, the finger popping out of her mouth.
The moment it was free, she was in motion, being spun around as he moved in what felt like mere seconds to the chair beside the console, he stepped around it as it was facing the doorway, shuffling his legs as he moved.
He sat down, a small noise when the cold metal hit his skin, somehow in the few seconds between the console and the chair, having divested her completely of the shirt, and without her really understanding how, he'd removed his own pajama pants in the process.
Mando'ade. Agility. Is. The. Best.
She smiled as her knees landed to the side of Torian's, getting settled into the seat, the arms touching the outer edges of her thighs as he lifted himself up, his mouth seeking hers, begging. His fingers reaching between them, testing her, confirming she was thoroughly awakened.
She was consumed by his need for her, her own need responding to the song, all of her cells seeming to be crying out at once, she pushed his hand away, pressing forward, sinking down, their connection making the lights in the room spin, her body answering his trembling. Her head fell back, long hair brushing against his hands that were softly stroking her back, his mouth burning a path down her chest, as she yielded her body to welcome him, rotating her hips when her thighs rested on his.
A low, feral growl came out of him, his hands grabbing her backside and lifting her slowly, then pushing downward on her hips, she let him guide her body, lost in the sensations, allowing herself to be washed along the flow with him as he set the path of motion and the pace they would travel.
Slowly her body found its own rhythm as one of his hands reached between them, enticing her building tension into a slow burning climb, as she looked down her eyes opening to see his face, his mouth open, jaw slack, reaching up to steal a kiss when his eyes met hers. His fingers kept the pace her hips were setting. He drew away slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, she saw there the discipline, the result of a lifetime mastering his body, of restraint, of absolute self-control—his eyes speaking loudly to his need, as he waited, his body tense and coiled, ready to strike but denying himself until the right moment.
Time seemed to stand still, or at least slow down, the light of their souls binding in the air around them. They were swept up into the beauty of their dancing souls.
Gar serim, ner Mando'ade Riduur. Duumir cuun'runi mureyca.
He grunted softly in approval, the words spilling out of her mouth without her even realizing it, he knew this pattern well, having honed his observational skills since he began training at the age of three—being so connected to her allowed him the insights to read her body like a novel—the further and further she would move away from the chains that hold her down to this world, her words became less and less coherent, and her filter disappeared completely, her thoughts being spoken subconsciously.
His free hand lifted to stroke her face softly, coaxing her down to look at him, her face flushed, whispy strands of hair sticking to her forehead, she was radiant, his hand brushed them away, his eyes holding hers.
"Ratiin."
A single word spoken with such absolution, such passion—filled with as much conviction as any word that had ever been spoken.
He felt the way her movements began to become lax and sloppy, her mind and body moving in too many directions to maintain a steady pace. He held her eyes as he took over the motion—lifting her body gently with his hands, knowing this part by heart, the way she needed to be touched, handled—to give her the freedom to relinquish the control, to just feel everything. His hands held her around the waist—his fingers nearly wrapping all the way around her—adjusting his position so he could better guide her there.
With great purpose, intent on his goal, he pressed forward, enticing her, denying his own responses to the captivating vision of his Riduur, the script that graced her body, lit up and flowing with color, each imprint whispering its secrets to him. He continued his momentum, conscious of the intensity of the way her body, her soul, was setting every cell in his body aflame. She leaned her head down on his forehead, her breath coming in tiny little gasps, her hands grasping, gripping, rolling across the muscles in his arms, savoring them, the feel of his muscles under her skin, his strength, moving to his chest, before she locked onto his shoulders—holding herself steady.
Her name whispered from his mouth, washing across her skin as if he were uttering a deeply personal prayer, a pledge, and the sound of it as it poured over her made the colors in the room multiply, her body losing its tempo completely—trusting him to carry her forward—he studied her then, watching as she chased the pleasure, spreading across her, as each cell within her began the song of ages, pulsing with pleasure, contracting with each movement.
Her hands grabbing his hair, pulling, as she tipped backwards, her body bowing in an arc, toes curled as the sensations almost became too much, his hands holding her back firmly as she leaned onto them, trusting him to support her, his name sounding across the space wrapped inside of a soft, melodic intonation that made him smile through his own breathlessness.
"Ni ganar'gar, Mesh'la, runi abiik'shaadlar," he urged her.
She bit her bottom lip between her teeth to stay the loud sounds that wanted to burst from her, instead her low, steady, keening brushing over him as his eyes filled up with the exquisite sight of her release.
His body rising up then, preserving the cadence to guide her through the pleasure, his hips moving softly, touching the places her soul had shown him, one hand on her back, the other pressed to her abdomen, his fingers spanned out across her muscles, his mouth reaching forward, intent to worship her beauty, purposefully stretching out the sensations, drawing forth every last whimper, denying himself, holding his body to exacting standards as it moved to please her, her body drinking deeply of his love, accepting it, glowing from it.
Her breath pulled inward violently, and held, everything in her locked for a moment, while every muscle contracted, and then as the air pushed out—the sound resonating through him as his name carried through the room, her body tipping forward, pressing to his.
Her voice was hoarse, her breath shuddering as the words swept between them, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Torian, darasuum."
Her mouth landed on his, saying more than the words her brain was capable of forming, as she wrapped herself around him, savoring the moment, her head falling to rest on his shoulder as she slowly swayed against him.
His head tipped back, landing with a light thud on the hard plane of the chair, closing his eyes for a moment from the sensations that were threatening to overwhelm him. His mouth forming the words to return her affection, desperate for her to know how much he loves her, needs her, wants her, when she abruptly slammed her body back down, her hips rolling violently, squeezing, then lifting slightly before she dropped back down again, hard.
His eyes flew open, his body bolting up, his face a mix between pleasure and pain-his hands shot to her waist, wrapping around her firmly, trying to hold her still, a string of Mando'a oaths pouring from his mouth as she grabbed his arms, pulling them away from her and pressing them rebelliously onto the arms of the chair, holding them there tightly—staring into his eyes—a challenge, knowing he didn't have the will to fight her, as her body continued to move against him, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his own, her body rolling on top of his.
"Cyar'ika," he breathed, his eyes wide, partially begging her to stop so this could last longer, and partly begging for her to move harder, faster, deeper.
"Day'duumir, Ner'Verd ," she pleaded through her panting breaths, "gedet'ye."
A low, deep sound began in the core of his body, rumbling as it moved through him, his being bent inwards to hers as the first wave washed over him, his arms dragging her to him, wrapping around her sharply, his face buried against her chest, his forearms holding her hips down against him as his own bucked beneath her, his mouth open, biting gently against her sensitive skin, savoring the way her breath shuddered, her chest vibrating under his head.
Her arms were wrapped around his head, holding him close to her, as his motions slowed, his breath caressing her as she ran her hands around his sweat drenched hair, pulling gently on the ends of it, as her fingers scratched against his skin. He hummed softly, his body quivering against her as an aftershock drifted through him. She rolled her hips, gently, diminutive, soothing him and giving him the time to recover. Her head dipping to the side to kiss his temple, pulling him up, his eyes still closed but knowing the path to her mouth on instinct, his lips finding hers, pressing softly, tongue moving slowly over her bottom lip, drawing her down into him, her mouth delicate velvet against his, reverent, tasting and touching with the sincerest tenderness, meant to express what words were lacking.
Their violent breathing was gradually abating, their bodies settling into a relaxed form, his hands drifting across her back, his fingers scratching lightly and then rubbing gently, as he gave her room to move back. She shifted slightly, not willing to give up the intimacy of their connection.
She stilled when Torian's eyes widened, an inexplicable expression crossing his face, his voice bubbling up, surprise tainting the syllables, shouting, "Ke'pare!"
Raeyn's face clouded with confusion, she tried to form words, but before she could utter a syllable she was lifted up off of him, a squeal of protest as she tried to stop him. He lifted her up, her feet not touching the ground as he held her against him, his body turning sharply around, his back facing the door, his body like a brick wall in front of her, his hands holding her tightly up against his body. She tried to speak, but froze, her heart beating out of her chest when she heard a noise. She cautiously leaned to the right, around his broad arms—her eyes landing on Mako as she rounded the corner, her foot hitting the first step leading up to the bridge. Her eyes shifted up and caught Raeyn's, her mouth forming into a perfect circle as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
When the scene finally registered, her eyes noticing the handprints on the window behind them, illuminated by the nebula, Torian's pants in a puddle by the closest captain's chair, and the two of them standing there naked as the day they were born—a frazzled noise between a scream, a groan, and a growl came out of her.
"Son of a Hutt!" she barked, her hand flying up to cover her eyes, wobbling on the step, "Guys! What the hell even!?"
Raeyn couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of her at the sight of Mako wobbling on the step, her eyes covered, and an ongoing stream of commentary pouring out of her. She lifted her eyes to look at Torian—his face reflecting her own unapologetic amusement, all of the lines soft and tempered with mirth as he grunted a laugh, his eyes looking around the room trying to come up with an exit strategy.
"Damn it!" Mako screeched, "there isn't enough chemical disinfectant in this entire sector to wash down that bridge—Torian, your naked butt TOUCHED that chair! That's my chair! Blast it all to hell!"
She continued to rant, her eyes still covered, "I'm ordering a replacement chair, and I am NOT paying for it!"
She screamed a wild sort of frustrated noise and then jumped when she felt Gault passing by her on his way to the galley for a midnight snack.
"What the hell is all of this noise about, do you people even realize what ti—" he had shuffled past the doorway, half asleep, confusion slowing him down, he backed up, leaning around Mako, his mouth dropping open, then snapping closed, his eyes apprising the situation and coming to much the same conclusion as Mako.
"Kriffing hell!" he called out, Torian's body stiffening around Raeyn's, "you could have at least turned the other way, Cadera, no one wants to see your bright white ass!"
He scratched his bare chest, his robe open, hanging loosely on his shoulders, "no matter how toned it is," his eyebrows raising as Mako turned sharply, lifting her hand to look at him disapprovingly.
"What!?" Gault squealed, "a man can appreciate the form of another man!" He wobbled a little as he turned to continue on to the galley, "what a damn shame…" he muttered as he went.
"What the kriff are you wearing, Gault?" Mako called after him, taking in the robe and shorts, the shorts too tight and the robe too short, still covering her eyes to avoid any accidental glimpses, "Seriously?"
Gault stopped, turned sideways to glare at her, his hands waving up and down his frame, "it's a type of silk, why?"
"Nothing," she snickered, "I just never saw you as a flower man is all."
"Har, har, har," he rolled his eyes, "this was a gift, from a woman, if you must know."
"Sure, sure," Make laughed, waving her hand at him in a dismissal, turning back to the bridge, talking in a very flat, non-Mako tone, "I'm going back downstairs. I am going to wait exactly ten minutes. When I come back up here, I want to be alone."
Her voice raised into a high pitch fervor, "Do you hear me? ALONE!" They could hear her foot fall as she stomped the floor.
Raeyn couldn't stay the giggle that bubbled up out of her throat, laying her head on Torian's chest as she laughed.
Torian cleared his throat, answering quickly, "Yes, Ma'am."
He leaned down to kiss Raeyn sweetly, shared laughter between them as Mako's voice drew further and further away, still ranting, "you two will be lucky if I don't just set the entire bridge on fire. I am not cleaning that, nope, I am bringing towels up from the fresher…kriffing newlyweds…"
Raeyn lifted her head still grinning as she looked up at Torian, both of their eyes twinkling with mischief.
Once they heard the door slam downstairs, Raeyn leaned up, kissing him quickly, "I think we should obey her orders."
Torian nodded, squeezing her once before releasing her, stepping over to the side to pick up his pants, then walking toward the discarded shirt to retrieve it.
Raeyn had walked to the door, clearing her throat, Torian's head snapping up, his eyes caressing her from across the room, drinking her in—perfection.
"Briikase gote'tuur, Riduur!" she smiled, winking and then turning quickly to leave.
"What!? How…how did you even…" he was dumbfounded.
She twisted to look back over her shoulder at him, wiggling her backside in the process, "Brother. SIS. Easy!"
He nodded, laughing lightly, "of course."
"You'll have to wait until Gault is out of the galley for the rest of your present," her eyes glinting in the light, her eyebrows raised, his expression quizzical, her voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper, "it involves sweet cream….and you, of course."
She winked, turning to head to their room. Torian watched her walk, the sway of her hips mesmerizing, his heart full and his mind alight with anticipation, he didn't know who he could praise for giving him her to be his wife, but he whispered his praises up to the Manda—grabbing the shirt off the floor and following after her.
She was worth all of the years of waiting.
The next morning when Raeyn stepped up into the bridge to get a status report from Mako her eyes were drawn to a jar that was sitting in her chair. She walked over, nursing her cup of kopi tea, yawning shamelessly, bowing her back in a stretch as she glanced over at Mako who was sitting studiously staring at one of the monitors, completely ignoring her.
She took a drink of her tea, sitting her cup down on the console, picking up the jar, a tinkling noise coming from inside of it. She twisted it to see a handwritten note affixed to the jar, in Mako's writing.
"Bridge Door Fund"
Tea spit out of her mouth as she nearly choked from trying to laugh and swallow at the same time, turning to Mako, who was now turned to observe her.
"Don't get too worked up over it, it's a lost cause."
Raeyn was trying to compose herself, her eyes begging for Mako to explain.
"Gault keeps coming in and taking all of the money."
I love my crew.
Notes:
So...hope you all enjoyed this little break from the anguish that is this story so far haha MUCH LOVE to you all for every single kudo, comment (I LOVE THEM!), and +1 read! 3
Translations as they appear in the chapter:
N'eparavu takisit [Nay-PAH-rav-OO ta-KEE-sit] sorry (lit: I eat my insult)
Naasad jehaat lar [NAHS-ahd jeh-HAHT OH-lar] none, not any, lie here
ori'haat [OH-ree-haht] *It's the truth, I swear* Emphatic
Me'vaar ti gar? [Meh-VAR tee-GAR] Are you okay? (Lit: what's new with you?)
Ori di'kutla [OH-ree dee-KOOT-lah] extremely worthless
Ni haa'taylir [Nee har-TIE-leer] I see
Tion'jor? [Tee-ON-jor] why?
Meh ni'copaanir [Mey KOH-pan-EER] If you want/would like me to
Gar'akur kar'am, Cyare. [Gahr-CHAH-koor KAR-aam] You're breath taking, beloved. Literally stolen breath.
Cyare [SHAH-ray] beloved
Gar mesh'la. Ni'copad duumir cetar taap'runi [gahr MAYSH'lah. nee'KOH-pad DOOM-eer set-ARR tahp'roo-NEE]
You are beautiful. I desire to worship at your alter. (literally, I desire to be allowed to kneel at your soul's location.)
Gedet'ye [Geh-DET-yay] Please
Mando'ade [Mando-AH-day] Mandalorians
Gar serim, ner Mando'ade Riduur. Duumir cuun'runi mureyca. [Gar sair-EEM, nair Man-DOH-AH-day REE-door. DOOM-eer koon'roo-NEE MOOR-aysh-ah] *That's it,* my Mando husband. Allow our souls to kiss.
Ratiin [RAH-teen] always
Ni ganar'ni, Mesh'la, runi abiik'shaadlar [nee GAN-ar'gar, MAYSH'lah, roo-NEE Ah-beek_SHAHD-lar] I have you, Beautiful, let your soul fly.
"Kar'taylir darasuum, Ner'Verd, darasuum.
[kat-tay-LEER da-RAH-soom]
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Ner'verd, darasuum. [nee kar-TILE garh dah-RAH-soom, nair vaird, day-RAH-soom] - colloquial: I love you, my warrior (pet name), forever. lit: I know you forever.
Cyar'ika [shar-EE-kah] darling, sweetheart
Day'duumir, Ner'Verd [dai-DOOM-eer nair vaird] – release, let go, my warrior (pet name)
Gedet'ye [Geh-DET-yay] Please
Ke'pare! [keh PAH-ray] emphatic, ke is an imperative prefix which makes the following word an order, pare is stop or wait-this phrase would equal an order to wait.
Briikase gote'tuur, Ner'Verd [Bree-KAH-say go-te-TOOR] Happy birthday! Ner'verd [nair vaird] my warrior
Manda [MAHN-dah] the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like
