Canderous
While Jennet patched us up, the honor guard was loud and enthusiastic about the match. They accepted without question calling it a draw; the only way either of us should have continued was if Jennet had healed us, or other medical attention. Considering the overall stubbornness of both of us, however, what we might have done was found a way to pummel each other despite broken ankles, ribs and other tender parts. I was fairly certain she hadn't deliberately set out to unman me, and I had no clue how I managed to keep fighting after that blow, beyond sheer stubborn desire to see it through. We hadn't actually set a rule about healing, it was more unspoken agreement. The men's estimation of Jennet had gone up considerably, and me as well. I knew none of them were certain they could take her in a fair fight; the fact I had fought her to a draw was impressive in their books.
We had not communicated even mentally on the walk back to the hotel. I could tell Jennet was puzzled and rather angry I'd forced the tattoo issue publicly, and I wasn't about to explain it until we had privacy. Sure, our mental communication gets across things much more directly and quickly than verbal, but it does take at least a little processing, and I wanted to have no interruptions when we discussed it. She seemed to understand at least that much, and let it be for now.
Jarxel headed out to do his errands, taking Kelborn and Tagren along. Before Dax could ask, I suggested to him and Mira that they should go get some supper, and not to bother about coming back tonight; we wouldn't be going anywhere that a full honor guard would be needed. Kex, Zuka and Xarga started a game of cards, turning on the holoscreen for background noise. Jennet and I, laughing and joking with the three men as they swore and crowed over their card game, prepared some dinner for everyone, taking ours into our room, where there was a small two-person table.
I expected Jennet to grill me the instant we were alone, but she seemed in no hurry to talk. She wasn't blocking me, but we had gotten so adept at our mental communication that we could filter, so to speak, what we wanted the other to hear. Emotion, stress, and other factors can make us wide open to each other, but if we don't want the other to hear certain things, say, like the house I was planning on building, we'd learned how to keep it under the surface. So I was getting thoughts, but they were almost deliberately random. She wasn't choosing to examine mine closely either. I wasn't entirely certain if it was because she was angry, or hurt. Or both. I probed a little mentally, but she kept me firmly at bay and I didn't want to risk her blocking me entirely.
So we ate dinner, talking about absolutely nothing and I was getting twitchy, waiting for the explosion that didn't come. After we'd finished, she took the dishes back to the kitchen, and returned to find me on the balcony.
"So," Jennet said casually, leaning against the rail. "You want to tell me why you called the tattoo as forfeit?"
"I've wanted to for the last hour, actually," I answered just as casually. "You didn't seem to be in a mood to hear it though."
"I didn't want to yell at you and end up looking like an idiot if it was a good reason," she admitted a little ruefully. "And if it's a bad reason, I'd rather hear it when I'm not spitting mad."
"Are you spitting mad?" I asked rhetorically. I could tell she wasn't. She was regaining her usual good humor and had come to the conclusion that I had had my reasons. This much I could read off her.
"Nope. Confused, though."
"Well, it's like this, Wildcat. I thought about what you'd said last night, and realized that if me wanting to be more like you is okay, and someone like you loves me, then you wanting to be a little more like me isn't such a bad thing."
She stared at me. "Well, it's already working."
"What?" I asked, puzzled.
"You really are becoming like me. I'm sure that was Galactic Basic, because it sure as hell didn't sound like Mandalorian. I assume that convoluted observation was supposed to make sense? Not even I can mangle a point that bad." Jennet said with a laugh.
I thought about what I'd said and decided I really needed some time with just me and the boys, and soon. I love Jennet with all my heart, but if I was going to start talking like her, I might as well hand the Helm over to Kex and be done with it.
She caught that, and gave me a friendly elbow to the ribs. "I'm pretty sure you only do it when we're alone, so you're safe," she said with a chuckle. "But do explain yourself, please. I think I deciphered your strange alien logic, but why make the tattoo a public challenge?"
"Let me back up here," I said. "I meant that since I met you, I've wanted to be more the sort of man that you deserve to be with. You've pretty much convinced me that I am, I guess…but we don't have to debate that now," I cut off the exasperated comment I already heard in her head. "Anyway, today it hit me that if you love me, which you've been assuring me regularly for some time now…"
"I do," Jennet interrupted, smiling.
"…and you're as good a person as I think you are, your own opinion of yourself notwithstanding," I gave her a glare as she started to interrupt again, "then maybe I'm not such a bad fellow. And if that's true, you having that tattoo will only be what it's supposed to be: the symbol of a warrior of my clan. Which, when we're married, you would be anyway." I lifted an eyebrow at her, and she nodded.
"I follow so far," she agreed. "What I don't get is why make it a challenge in front of witnesses, and make your forfeit that I don't get the tattoo, if you've decided it's just dandy for me to have it?"
"Because of three reasons, one of which might make you mad." She started at that, and opened her mouth to say something. I waved it off. "We'll get to that one in a minute. Let me explain to most important reason. To my people, the warrior tattoo is an almost sacred rite of passage. Now, every one of our honor guard, Jarxel, and I'm willing to bet pretty much the entire camp would be proud for you to be marked as a Mandalorian warrior. Not one would question you choosing to get it. But I felt that them seeing you fight for that right, from me, would go a long way toward them really knowing you wanted it, and understood its significance, not just getting because it seemed like the right thing to do."
She looked at me, understanding dawning. "That makes sense. But wouldn't you making that bet look like you disapproved of me getting the tattoo?"
"No. The men assumed just what I knew they would: I was threatening to withhold from you an honor you wanted, to provoke you into fighting your best."
"Okay, it makes sense now. What were the other two reasons?"
"The second reason was I wanted you to realize what it was you wanted. You hadn't completely made up your mind about it and I knew it. By forcing the issue, you made a choice. You didn't break my ankle because you didn't want that tattoo." I said smugly.
"Okay, I'll give you that. But why didn't you just tell me, dammit? Why spring it on me out of the blue like that? And how did you even know I wasn't just pissed at you for putting me on the spot, and fought to beat you regardless of the forfeit?"
"Because you didn't make a counter forfeit," I said, answering her second question first. "If you didn't want the tattoo, you'd have made your forfeit something else. That way, if I won, you didn't get it, but the men would still assume you had wanted it. If you won, you could choose it or not, and it wouldn't be tied to the bet. But the way you answered my challenge, it was clear you were fighting for the right to have it," I paused as she slowly started to nod her head in agreement.
"I think you're giving me credit for logic skills I wasn't necessarily using," Jennet said with a frown. "Your reasoning makes sense, but I sure as hell wasn't thinking it through that clearly."
"I didn't think you were; I was looking for your gut reaction. You're very good, Wildcat, at coming to a quick instinctive conclusion based on the evidence at hand." I smiled at her as she glowed from my praise. "As to why I didn't say anything? Well, that's the part that might piss you off. I wanted to see your honest reaction to throwing it out there, and how you fought me after it. It worked; you fought like the wildcat I call you, and gave no quarter. I figured when you kicked me in the balls that earning that that tattoo wasn't a whim."
She stared at me a moment. "You really are a ruthless son of a bitch," she said conversationally.
"Yes," I answered with my best don't-fuck-with-me smile.
"But," she said softly, "It was a draw."
"The fight was," I agreed.
"You didn't throw the fight, did you, to leave me an out if I changed my mind?" Jennet looked at me with narrowed eyes.
"I'm ruthless, Wildcat, not suicidal," I said, chuckling. "Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to try and do that, knowing how you'd react when you figured it out?"
"No," she said, looking away. "Sorry. So," she said, looking at me with a bright smile, "how long after we're married can I get it done?"
"You can do it right away if you want. But it takes hours, so you might want to wait until at least the day after," I said. "And I might have some plans of keeping you incarcerated with no access to clothing for a while after the ceremony. Maybe a week or so later would be better," I added with a leer.
She laughed, and kissed me. I gave her my full attention, and she returned the favor.
"I can wait," she said breathlessly when we came up for air. "I've spent twenty five years not being a Mandalorian warrior; I can spend a few more days waiting to become one."
I kissed her again, and eventually we made our way to bed. A nameless time later, we were curled together, not sleepy but content to simply breathe. I idly toyed with one of her curls as she traced the phoenix on my arm again.
"It is beautiful work," she said admiringly.
I twisted my arm a bit to look down at the tattoo. I hadn't really looked at it in a long time, and was fairly impressed all over again by the detail and artistry. The hint of fire from beak, wingtips, and talons looked very much like a banked ember about to burst into flame. I made a mental note to see if anyone in camp could do tattoos. If not, I'd have to locate an artisan that could draw Jennet's.
"I've had it so long I don't really look at it anymore," I said. "But yeah, the Ordo historian was one of the better tattoo artists. I ought to have it touched up when you get yours done; it's been five years since the last time. A bit early to do that, but it would be nice to have it sharp to match your shiny new one."
She looked up with quick understanding. "You had it renewed when you started your search."
"Yeah." I nodded. "Before that, I hadn't had it done since a year before Malachor V."
She was silent for a time. When she spoke, it was a different subject entirely. "Funny how things end up, isn't it?" she asked softly. "I had pretty much resigned myself that I would spend most of my life alone, and after Stefan I wasn't about to risk otherwise again. My mother once gave me advice on finding the right man," she tilted her head up at me, eyes soft.
"What was that, Wildcat?" I asked curiously.
"She told me that I shouldn't worry what anyone else thought of my choice, if he loves me as I am, and doesn't try to change me. I asked her how I could tell he loved me, and she said when it was obvious my welfare was more important than his own. So you qualify, on both counts," she said, a hint of mischief in her smile.
"You're right, though," I said, grinning. "It is funny how things work out. I walked into that cantina looking for a whore, and found a wife."
"You what?" She looked startled, and I grinned wider.
"I guess I've never told you that, have I?" I said, chuckling.
"It never occurred to me to ask what you were doing there. It was a bar fer shit's sake; most people are there to drink. You're telling me you were there looking to get laid?" She was trying to look disapproving, but I saw her mouth twitch with suppressed laughter.
"Yep. We had a few days before we were going to head to Telos, and I hadn't had a woman in about a year. So I got some names of local haunts, and chose one at random. Saw you as soon as I was seated, too. I wanted to beat the bartender for letting a kid in that kind of place; I understand it's one of the worst. For Nar Shadaa, that's saying something." I was matter-of-fact, but my eyes crinkled with amusement.
"It had been a year?" Trust Jennet to pick out that particular fact.
"A bit more, actually," I shrugged. "I live in a camp with a hundred men, Wildcat, and until now, no women. I don't allow slavery, and not many outlander women would voluntarily choose to stay. Not to mention the endless trouble it would cause to have only a few women in a camp with that many men. I encourage regular furloughs, and when they're on scout missions, I don't question what they're up to as long as they do their jobs. I just don't allow women in camp for strictly sexual purposes."
"We've been here a couple of weeks now and I haven't had any trouble. Nor has Mira, Ladria, Visas, or Megari." She pointed out. "I'd say the men are very well behaved."
"They are, cyar'ika. But you five are a huge difference from women brought in specifically for sex. You are my Mate; no one would touch you. Ladria, Visas, and Mira are all warriors in their own right, and jetti to boot; no one is stupid enough to make a play uninvited with them. Most important, they are guests of the Mandalore. Same with Megari. It's entirely different."
"I suppose it is," Jennet said slowly. She eyed me, grinning. "So what made you decide that particular day that it was time to get laid?"
"I honestly thought there was a good chance we all were going to die in a few days," I admitted. "I'd been to the Star Forge, Wildcat, and knew how ruthless and evil the Sith really are. No one else on the crew had seen what I had, with the possible exception of Ladria, who wasn't telling. Whatever was coming, I was pretty sure it was the final confrontation, at least for now. If I didn't survive it, I at least wanted to go out well fed, well bedded, and fighting. In that order," I added, grinning.
"So you'd eaten before you got there?" Jennet was quick to tease.
"Seedy cantinas aren't usually noted for the quality of their food," I shot back, laughing. "I'd had dinner earlier."
We laughed together, and I pulled her over until she was laying across my lap.
"And then," I growled in her ear, "I saw you being harassed by the mercs, they made the grave error of trying to kill you, and my entire world changed. I'd never seen anything like it, and I had to know who you were. So now I have a Mate, and more women in my camp, and a possible deal with the Republic that will reunite the remnants of my people. Any more, Wildcat, I'll be as domesticated as a gizka."
"I sincerely doubt you'll ever be domesticated," Jennet purred. "Thank the Gods."
"Maybe not," I answered, resting my chin on the top of her head. "Give me fifty or sixty years."
"Nope," Jennet said positively. "Then you'll be just like Elder Gregor, fierce and growly and ready to whip the youngsters into showing some respect."
"Growly, eh?" I laughed. "I do admire your mangling of perfectly good Basic. Makes me wonder what you'll say next."
She mock-scowled at me, and I kissed her senseless. At the moment, it didn't take much.