#Davarax

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What am I?

Raga struggles and Davarax notices.

-

Davarax sighs as he leaves the forge and their leader behind, and sets course for his quarters. He's exhausted from the mission and he just wants to get cleaned up before sleeping for two weeks. (He'll probably be sent out again long before that.) His neck and shoulders are killing him and the bruise left behind from the fight with that falleen is aching like it is getting paid to do so.

On his way there, sounds catch his attention and Davarax finds himself diverted from his original plan. He easily recognizes Din and Paz' voices. It's been two weeks since he saw his kids last and he can't resist the urge to at least steal a peek to make sure they're doing okay. (Din's temper has been getting worse lately and Dez has been doing his best to drive Paz into an early set of grey hairs.)

To his relief, he finds the two boys either training or half-heartedly fighting each other in the arena, it's difficult to tell the difference when those two go at it some times. After a quick scan tells him they both look healthy, Davarax turns to leave them to their business, he'll talk to them later when his brain is actually functional after some sleep, but he pauses when he sees the boys are not alone.

On the balcony above the arena, Raga is sitting on a bench half-hidden by the shadows, but while her gaze is aimed at the boys below there is no mistaking how she's not really watching them. Her mind is elsewhere. Davarax frowns as the tight tension on her face tells him that wherever her thoughts are, it is not some place nice.

Dank farrik.

Forgetting about sleep for the moment, this is far more important, Davarax makes his way up and over to her, silent enough so not to alert the bickering boys of his presence but loud enough so she'll hear him approach. She doesn't look over at him though, not even when he's standing right next to her.

Definitely not good.

“Hey.” Davarax says.

“You're back.” Raga states the obvious in a flat tone.

“Yep.” Davarax replies, continuing to scan her face. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

Davarax' frown deepens. In the background there is a thump and a yell as either Paz or Din makes bodily contact with the floor. “What's wrong? Talk to me.”

Raga clenches her jaw. She's only ten years old, but her rage rivals some of the fiercest fighters Davarax has had the pleasure of fighting alongside. “I'm suspended again.” She says.

Closing his eyes for a moment, needing to control his own anger, Davarax only looks at her when he can at least sound calm. “Mitmine giving you trouble again?” For a teacher, that man has remarkably little patience. He's always disliked Raga, believing every whisper from every idiot who heard some unfounded rumour from someone unamed, and he keeps blaming her for anything and everything he can think of. And he's clearly done it again. Idiot. “I'll deal with him.”

“Don't bother.” Raga mutters. “It's dealt with.”

That has Davarax frowning again. “What?” He refuses to believe her parents have done anything, they tend to shrug off any and all complaints regarding their children, and there is no way Raga would have told Dez anything. “How?”

Raga's glare finally shifts to stare at him. “I punched him in the junk.”

Davarax blinks. “Oh.” Okay, well, not ideal, but the man has been pestering that girl for almost two years and, in Davarax' opinion, had pain coming. Raga might be small and skinny, but over the years she's been gaining strength and skills and should not be underestimated. That being said, he still feels she shouldn't have to fight her battles alone. “I'll have a word with him anyway.”

Raga stands up, an abrupt move that causes Davarax to flinch just the tiniest bit with the instinctive urge to either back up or discretely fold his hands in front of himself to protect his own junk, but her self-control has improved immensely over the years since she came into his care and so he stands his ground.

“I told you; don't bother.” Raga is definitely angry. With him as well as Mitmine. “We both know I'm not worth it. You're just training me because Paz made you say yes. I'm not like the others.”

“Like who?” Davarax is more than a little surprised by her words, but he needs to make sure he understands before he tackles the problem. Not worth it? Not like them? This sounds like Mitmine.

“Like Paz. Din. Barthor.” Raga snaps their names with no small amount of anger but also with a hurt that cuts at Davarax' heart. “They're important to you. I'm just the one no one wants.”

“Raga, that's-”

“It's true!” Raga snaps, her voice shaking just a little. She reclaims her anger. “Paz is the one you love to coddle and you keep worrying about because of old man Vizla. Barthor is a karking genius and you love to feed his brain while making him feel normal despite being more clever than the rest of us put together. Din... Din is your favourite. He's always been your favourite.” Raga smacks her hand against her chest. “Me? I'm nothing.”

“That's not true.” Davarax grits out, struggling to sound calm and not as devastated as he feels. Oh, Raga... These days, she's so brave and quiet that it is easy to forget she can be hurting too.

“Then what am I?” Raga demands to know. Her wild hair half-covering her face and the dim light make it difficult to be sure, but it looks like there might be tears in her eyes.

“Listen, I don't have favourites.” Davarax declares. (It is a bit of a lie. He's had many students, but none who he has grown so attached to as these four.) “I love to coddle all of you because you are all precious to me. And believe me when I tell you that the four of you, all four, are brilliantly smart. A teacher's dream.”

Yeah, there are definitely tears in her eyes now, but Raga isn't entirely convinced. She wants to believe him, he can tell, but Mitmine's words must have burned deep. Curse that guy.

“As for what you are...” Davarax continues, reaching out and placing his hand on Raga's bony shoulder, knowing no other soul would have dared to do so after her teeth has left lasting scars on more than one soul in the Covert. “You are the one who has done most progress of all four over the years. You're the one who works the hardest, aims the highest and fears the least. You refuse to be a slave to your anger and you've come so far. I believe that when the time comes when I'm too old and useless to keep them safe, you're the one who will keep the other three safe and together. I know I can trust you to look after them in the future. What are you, Raga?” Davarax tells her the truth. “You're my hope.”

There is a moment of stunned silence, then Raga shuts her eyes tight and dives forwards, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face against his armour.

Davarax runs his hand gently over her wild hair and makes a silent vow to make sure she never doubts herself again. “I'll deal with Mitmine. He won't treat you like that again. Ever. I promise.”

“Punch him in the junk.” Raga mutters against his armour.

Fighting against an amused smile, Davarax nods. “I might just do that.” He has already warned the guy twice to lay off Raga, words are clearly not seeping through his thick skull, maybe a Saxon approach is the way to go to make him understand? And if not, Davarax suspects it is going to be incredibly satisfying to cause the guy some severe amount of pain anyway for causing Raga such distress. No one hurts his kids and gets away with it.

[cacodaemonia]

I've added a lot of characters to this lineup since the last time I posted it, saying it was done, and I'm heart-broken to (I think) actually be done this time. T__T I've had SO MUCH FUN doing the ref sheets for @sulphuryasecretcloset‘s series, "The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper," and I have to say a huge thank you to our favorite author for letting me play with her characters. <3

As always, these are my best attempts at interpreting @sulphuryasecretcloset‘s wonderful descriptions, but they're just one interpretation and my drawings aren't the law. And if they help anyone with their own fanart or fics, then that's great!

To see the ginormous, full-res image, check my AO3.

I've been streaming on Twitch pretty much all the time I work on these fanarts, so feel free to stop by if you're bored.

If you want to join the Mandorin Discord, just ask. :)

(Height chart is from xlunastarx on DeviantArt)

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Drunk Corin emerges yet again

(I just can’t resist tormenting them with Drunk!Corin, one by one xD )

-

The music is loud, people are singing and the party has clearly been going on for a while by the time they get there. Raga grins as she takes in the energetic feel of the room, sees mostly familiar faces that has only become known to her over the time she'd spent with Corin and Din help create this place. 

But while she's busy trying to take it all in, Paz marches away. She watches him head towards Din, who appears to be busy talking to Zev'sonya and Leave-it, and she suspects she knows why. It's Din's Life Day, after all, and she knows, despite him trying to hide it, that Paz is secretly terrified things will go back to the way they were after Davarax died, when Din froze them out of his life. It's almost cute to see Paz barge into the conversation and do his best to be obnoxious so Din won't suspect he cares. (Zev'sonya's blond starts to inch away the second the arguing starts.)

But speaking of barging into people, someone then stumbles straight into her.

Automatically grabbing a hold of the person to keep them from falling, Raga feels arms go around her as well and knows by the strong grip who the culprit is before they manage to lift their face and look up at her. “Hi, Corin.”

Corin sheepishly grins up at her. His face is flustered and his eyes are bright with amusement. “Hi, Raga.” He makes absolutely no effort to pull back or let her go. “You're awesome.” “I know.” She replies with ease.

“I'm drunk.” Corin admits.

“I know.”

Corin exhales and stares at her with pained adoration. “I mean it, though, you really are awesome. I really admire you.”

Raga pats his back a couple of times. “As you should.”

“If I was a warrior like you, I could...” Corin exhales again and shakes his head before staring at her t-visor with drunken intensity. “I love Din.”

“I know.”

“I mean, like, I really love him.” Corin goes on.

“I know.” Raga says.

Suddenly Corin frowns and looks around. “Where is Paz? You guys were so late I didn't think you were joining us today.”

“He's annoying Din.” Raga replies, marveling at how Corin can't hear those two arguing as they are the loudest ones in the room right now and that is no small feat.

“Why can't they be nice to each other?” Corin looks wistfully over at the men in question.

“They are being nice.” Raga drawls. “Not a single punch yet.”

Corin lifts an eyebrow, has to acknowledge that, then sighs and slumps against Raga. “I love Din.”

“That's nice.” Raga pats his back again.

“I love you too, but like a sister, you know?” Corin declares with his face smushed against her pauldron. “And Paz, like a brother. I love both of you. And Din. I really love Din. Like... Did you know he punched me in the face when we met? I said 'thank you' and he punched me in the face.”

Raga snorts a laugh. “He did what?” And yet, she isn't surprised.

Corin looks up at her t-visor. “He punched me in the face. Then he stripped me and tied me up.” A drunken smile spreads across his face. “I love him.”

“He stripped you, huh?” Humming, Raga senses the opportunity to get a lot of fun stuff to use against Din later. She pats Corin's back yet again. It's a good thing her helmet hides the smile of pure evil on her lips.“Why don't you tell me all about when you and Din met? Tell Mama everything.”

“Okay.” Corin chirps. “So, it started when...”

This is the moment when Din and Paz notices Corin clinging to Raga and they instantly stop yelling at each other to stare at them instead.

“Oh no...” Din whispers with a touch of panic.

“Get him off of her.” Paz hisses uneasily, probably haunted by flashbacks to the time when he'd been yelling for Din to remove a very drunk Corin clinging to him and crying his eyes out.

The two scramble towards Raga and Corin, but it's too late.

“Did you insist on sharing the very first bed you two came across?” Raga turns her gaze towards Din, trying to sound scandalized.

“I...” Din's t-visor shifts a bit as he looks from her to Corin and back to her again. “It wasn't... like that.”

Corin grins. “I like sharing a bed with Din.”

Paz reaches out and cautiously tries to peel one of Corin's hands away from Raga only to fail. “How come he gets super-strength whenever he drinks?” He mumbles with some distress.

“Corin.” Din puts an impressive amount of flattery in his name, clearly hoping to tempt him to turn and cling to him instead. “Why don't you and I go-”

“Nono.” Raga cuts him off, in a too cheerful tone for him not to sense danger, hugging Corin a little closer. “This is your Life Day. Enjoy it. Have fun arguing with Paz. Me and Corin here, we'll just hang out together and have a little chat.”

“But-” Din tries again.

“Go away.” Raga chirps.

“Raga.” Paz drawls, puffing himself up to take charge.

“No.” Raga says, turning her t-visor towards him in a way that has Paz deflate immediately and mind his own business. She then turns her attention back to Corin and urges him to walk with her. “You kissed his wrist, huh? How did Din react to that?”

Din's tiny sound of distress is merrily ignored as Raga encourages Corin to continue talking.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What-if Promto: The first time Corin held Din’s wrist

-

As ordered, but with a little twist, hope it still works ;)

The first time Corin held Din’s wrist in the What-If-verse:

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist is a little over a month after he and Dulcy arrived at the Covert with Davarax. Eager for Din to follow him to their hide-out, Corin grabs Din's wrist and drags him along without a second thought. Din, however, is stunned by the feeling of his warm hand, his skin against Din's, and abruptly realizes how long it has been since anyone actually touched him. It makes him remember his parents, their hugs and kisses, and he can barely breathe with how much he misses them.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist out of fear happens when

 Davarax has them all gathered, Dulcy, Corin, Din, Paz, Raga and Barthor, and tells them a scary story about when he'd almost gotten eaten by a dragon. Davarax ends the tale with gusto, a loud and sudden; “Boom! The grenade goes off and saves my life!” Which causes Corin to flinch and grab Din's wrist for courage. That makes Din's heart glow and he looks over at Corin while making a silent promise to always keep him safe. Him and Dulcy both. Fine, Din hasn't gotten his helmet yet, but he's still a Mandalorian at heart and they protect the ones who are important to them.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist with anger in his touch it is to hold Din back and let him deal with the problem. There is strength in that grip. No hesitation. So Din stands back and merely watches with a slight smile while Corin pummels Iddy into the ground after he had claimed that Dulcy was nothing but a useless Imp and that Corin was too much of a weakling and a coward to ever become a Mandalorian.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist due to grief is when they carry Davarax by them, beaten, covered in blood and dying, and Corin holds on tight to prevent himself from collapsing to the floor. They're all stunned, terrified and lost. Din feels a scream building in his throat and Corin's touch on his skin is the only thing that keeps him from shattering into a million pieces. The thought of Davarax dead, it hurts every bit as much as the memory of his parents, and the grip on his wrist is what forces him to wait and hope and pray...

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist while laughing out loud is when they are running for their lives, quite literally, after pulling a prank on Paz and Raga, who are chasing after them with unbridled rage in their eyes. They both knew it had been a bad idea, but it was just too tempting to resist. It will most likely cost them a black eye or half a dozen bruises, but it'll be worth it. Hearing Corin's laughter makes Din's heart warm with happiness that he is his friend. None of his other friends makes Din feel like this.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist after they leave the Covert is when everyone else is asleep on the Razor Crest and he gently takes a hold to gain Din's attention. They speak quietly, so very quietly, about the uncertain future with a mix of apprehension and excitement. It is scary to be out in the big Galaxy without the safety of the Covert, but it also means a brand new life with endless possibilities and freedom. Corin grins and squeezes Din's wrist and Din tries not to think about how that makes him even more giddy than the thought of freedom.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist after Din actually realizes he's in love with him but hasn't had the courage to tell him, it is bitter-sweet torture. Dulcy is plotting something and is telling them her plan, but Din isn't listening. He fails to catch a single word she's saying because all he can focus on is how Corin's fingers are curled around his wrist and how, as a silent apology for his mother's ramblings, his thumb is gently brushing back and forth over where Din's pulse is racing like crazy.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist after Din awkwardly confesses his feelings for him, only to be told the feelings are mutual, it is like a dream come true. A dream that is too wonderful to be true yet is. His touch feels like a physical representation of the connection between them. And Din knows, knows in his soul, that they will always be connected. He moves his hand and takes Corin's in his, braiding their fingers together.

The first time Corin holds Din's wrist after the Galaxy's most adorable kid is handed into their care is a moment he remembers as utter perfection. It's like the different pieces of his soul are being inserted into Din's life and he's being put back together again. He has a home, family, friends, allies and now this kid that could so easily become a part of that. Just like Corin's touch, it feels right.

It is in the middle of the night when Din gently curls his fingers around Corin's wrist and caresses the soft skin there. It's become a secret gesture of affection between them. It's their 'thing'. And even though Corin is asleep, Din hopes the caress might drift into his dream and make it a good one. It's been years since that very first contact, but the touch, the silent declaration of love, it feels as right now as it did then. 'I love you' doesn't always have to be said with words.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What If... tweets

-

-

-

-

BONUS, everyone’s favourite father:

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

This is the Way

(Okay, so this one goes out to @veryapricoteggflower​ for the incredibly kind and encouraging words that gave me the oompf needed to post this longass piece I wrote a while back, and to @phrenic-a​ for the eternal patience and empathy shown when I complain about the characters making things difficult for me xD And, yeah, Dez is about to face more challenges, some more unexpected than others!)

-

Usually Dez prefers to train his markmanship alone, or in the company of Paz and Raga, but Davarax' threat of friendship is still something that idiot is working on and so Dez occasionally gets dragged along to do blaster target practice. Today is such a day. But Dez' crankiness turns into something boyishly giddy when, for the first time ever, Neleem shows up to watch.

She is a bit quiet and seems slightly distracted by whatever is on her mind, but she orders Dez to finish his target practice and he goes about doing just that. He's suddenly far more motivated to hit his target than usual and is beyond pleased when he does better than usual as a result.

When they have fired their last rounds, Dez twirls and whirls the blaster in his hand, showing off his best moves for Neleem's eyes while Davarax walks over to inspect their hits. Beskar Boy might be the better shot, but Dez knows he looks better, way better, while shooting, and no harm in Neleem seeing that, right? He might not have many other redeeming qualities, other than being a Vizla, but at least she married a man who looks damn good in battle.

“Do you want to try having a baby?” Neleem asks.

Dez fumbles and nearly drops the gun, reflexes making him squeeze it, and he fires off a shot that goes by dangerously close to Davarax' head.

Davarax spins around in startled anger. “That's not funny! You nearly hit me, you idiot!”

“It was an accident.” Dez shouts back at him, as flustered and startled as Davarax himself.

“Accident?” Davarax yells, angry and anything but convinced. “You just 'accidentally' nearly shot me in the head? Are you serious?!”

“Yes!” Dez is getting angry too now. Just because Beskar Boy never makes mistake, that doesn't give him the right to bite down on Dez' ass for making one. “But keep pushing me and the next one won't be an accident and it won't miss your head!”

Davarax sputters something, but Neleem places a light hand on Dez' arm and he forgets all about Beskar Boy and can't think about anything but her shocking words. “Neleem, what...?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...” Neleem looks as embarrassed as he feels. “My timing was...”

Dez shakes his head, tries to shake off the shock and his brain into working again. “Fine. It's fine. Don't worry about it. That moron deserves a little shaking up every once in a while.” He clears his throat. “I'm just slightly worried I had a stroke and misheard what you said.”

“I asked,” Neleem mumbles awkwardly, looking down at where her hand is resting on his arm, “if you wanted to try having a baby?”

Dez stares at her. So he didn't hallucinate. Is she hallucinating? “You're asking... me?” There has to be something he's misunderstanding here. She can't be asking him that. “Me?” He repeats, hoping to make her realize who she is talking to.

Neleem nods before she dares to sneak a peek up at his face. Her cheeks are flushed.

Dez struggles to find the ability to formulate sentences again. He can't even muster up any anger to respond to Davarax' snarling as he stalks by them. “Neleem, I...”

“If you don't want to, that's okay!” Neleem reassures him in a hurry as she places both hands on his chest. “It's just a question. Not an ultimatum. Not a demand. Just a question, Dez.”

It doesn't make sense. Why would she even ask? Dez notices his mouth feels horribly dry. “You never mentioned wanting... before...”

“I know.” Neleem sighs, leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest, probably hearing the erratic beating of his heart as he hadn't armored up for mere training. His punishment for being lazy. “It wasn't something I even considered. I've always looked after other people's children and that was enough. I never felt the time was right, I never had a decent life to offer a child, and... there was never the right partner.”

Dez feels something cold traveling up his spine. Right partner? For having children? How can she say that and mean him? “Neleem. I'm a shitty father. We both know that.”

“Were.” Neleem states, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You 'were' a shitty father. You're not that man anymore. Just ask Paz. Or Liita. You didn't hesitate to adopt her, did you?”

Dez exhales. “No, because she's even meaner than I am and she'll kick my ass if she feels like it.”

Neleem lets out a soft laugh, knowing the truth of his words, but she looks up at him again and now with the softest expression in her eyes. “That girl worships you. Just like your son and his girlfriend. You're not as unlovable as you like to think, Dez Vizla. I should know because I love you too.”

Clenching his jaw, not trusting his voice right now, Dez basically scowls at her because there are far too many soft, hopeful and yearning emotions whirling away inside him at the moment.

Pulling back a little, lifting a hand and patting his chest, Neleem smiles with a painful mix of sadness and affection. “What if you think about it? No rush. No pressure. If it feels wrong for you, we won't. I promise you I can live with whatever you decide and I won't love you any less for it. It's just a question, an option, a possible possibility, okay? Our family is perfect the way it is, so, please, don't feel I need this. I'd like it, but I don't need it. You hear me?”

Dez nods. He feels numb. And he merely watches as Neleem flees.

How could she want a baby with him? Him! He has proven himself to be entirely unsuitable to the task, a complete failure to his son, and so the broken whispers of his old wish for a big family doesn't matter. He crushed that dream into a deep grave and buried it alive a long time ago.

There is no point in thinking about it. So he won't. He's a Vizla; if he decides not to do something, he won't do it.

Easy peasy.

-

Watching Paz and Raga train is always a treat, they are skilled for their age, but it turns a bit entertaining when they somehow manage to drag Liita into a session. Dez is sitting on the fence surrounding the sand-covered area they had created for soft landings when Paz wanders over to take a sip of his water bottle next to his father while Raga shows Liita some stances with only a mild amount of bullying involved. (Standing as far from everyone else as possible, Din and Corin are pretending to be there for training but are basically just ogling and pawing each other.)

“Raga should be careful.” Paz declares with glee, taking a deep gulp of water before looking back at the girl in question. “Liita will go after her kneecaps and show no mercy.”

“Yeah.” Usually this would amuse Dez to no end, but now he can't even get himself to smile properly. He feels... off. Weird. Unsettled.

Raga cackles and Liita snarls.

“It's weird to get a sibling when you're basically an adult, right?” Dez mumbles, glancing over at his son.

Paz shrugs, not taking his eyes off the girls. “Not really. It worked out for both of us. I mean, Liita never had siblings either and I always wanted a sister or a brother.”

Dez remembers. When Paz was just a kid, he'd asked his father for a sibling as a Life Day present three years in a row. “But it would be weird getting one now if it was, you know, a baby, right?”

Spinning around to face Dez, Paz blurts out, far too loudly; “Is Neleem pregnant?”

Dez flinches and gestures frantically for him to lower his voice. “No! No, she's not pregnant.” He glances over at Raga and Liita, feels his face grow hot as they are staring at them, then turns his focus back to his son again. It's unsettling how delighted Paz had sounded and how there is actual disappointment in his eyes upon hearing there is no new incoming sibling. “I was just making conversation. Okay?”

Paz does not look convinced.

Clearing his throat, Dez wishes he never had said anything. “She's not pregnant, I promise.” He shifts his weight a little uneasily and feels his upper lip tug at a snarl. “Stop staring at me.” He wishes he had put on his helmet before talking to his son.

Paz sighs, takes another swallow from his water before putting the bottle back where he'd gotten it from and turns to walk back to the two girls. “Nemi's karking cute and Corin hogs her all the time. Would've been nice to have my own baby sibling to show off, you know?”

Scowling, Dez watches as Paz joins up with Raga again and only realizes Liita has now taken up position next to him when she speaks.

“Pregnant, huh?” Liita mutters.

“She's not...” Dez starts off a little too angrily and has to calm his temper before he can look over at the girl next to him and finish his sentence in a calmer voice. “...pregnant. Okay?”

“Okay.” Liita replies and the two watch Paz and Raga spar for a little while. Eventually Liita speaks up again. “This having children thing, it's a big deal to Mandalorians.” “It is.” Dez confirms, now hating himself for having opened his big mouth at all.

“What if I don't want kids...?” Liita asks.

Dez shrugs. “You're just a kid yourself right now. You got plenty of time. Wait until the right guy comes along and you might change your mind.”

Liita nods, goes quiet for moment or two, then she draws a sharp breath and looks over at him. “But what if I get older and I still don't want kids? What if I never want kids?”

Her voice is low and defiant, but also somehow a little shaky. Is she worried that might make Dez regret adopting her? He absently places his arm around her and squeezes her obnoxiously tight. “Then you'll still be Liita. You'll still be my daughter. You'll still be a mechanical genius, a foul mouthed beast and a gift to any Mandalorian tribe. And that will never change. Understood?”

Liita almost smiles and has to fight hard to hide it. “Understood.” She wiggles herself free from him and is about to walk back to Paz and Raga when she glances back at Dez. “You know, you're turning into a pretty good dad, old man. I'm glad I adopted you.”

Grinning, Dez lifts his hand and gives her a rude gesture, which has her grin and return the gesture before heading over to Paz and Raga again.

Lowering his hand, Dez watches the kids train and tells himself to ignore how Liita and Paz' words start to mix with the echo of Neleem's question inside his head.

-

Dez does firmly not think about it at all for the next two days and pretends the tension and restlessness is just because Sobek and the others are driving him crazy with their nagging.

“I never should have said anything.” Neleem whispers a late night. “It wasn't the right time.”

“You should always tell me when you want something.” Dez declares, faking confidence. Doing things for another soul, getting them what they want, that's how you show you care, right? Borr taught him that. When Dez was a kid, his initial instinct to show he cared was always to reach out, to hug or simply touch an arm, desperately craved physical contact from others to know they cared about him as well, but his father was quick to inform him how that was a display of weakness and that affection could only be proven through usefulness. And Vizlas aren't weak. Ever.

(While he never managed to rid himself of the bad habit of hugging all together, and couldn't get himself to teach Paz that hugging was wrong, Dez did get better at being strong over the years.)

One way to burn off the frustrating restlessness gnawing inside him is working out. Dez enters the shed they had set up for lifting weights and has a moment of fierce irritation when he finds Beskar Boy there, in the middle of his own work out session. Lying on the bench, lifting and lowering the bar with enough weight to compete with Dez' own sets, Davarax still has the energy to greet him. “Hey, buddy. I'm almost done.”

Dez doesn't dignify him with an answer, merely turns away and leans against the door frame to look out at the town nearby. If he watches Davarax, odds are that he won't be able to resist pointing out mistakes and bad form and it will snow on Tatooine before Dez willingly helps Davarax get even better at something.

Staring at nothing, Dez waits in silence and isn't quite aware of what he's doing until there is a sting of pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. Only then does he realize he's gnawing at the side of the nail on his left thumb. (Nail biting. Another occasional bad habit he's never been able to shake.) There is a burst of more irritation inside him and Dez yanks his hand down to his side while he resents himself for showing such obvious signs of weakness.

He has to make it stop. Telling himself not to think about it is clearly not working. Dez is about to storm off to find some other way to vent, maybe Furyan is free to do some fighting, when the painfully obvious solution presents itself to him. If there is one person in the entire Galaxy that will tell Dez, out loud and to his face, without mercy, how bad of an idea Neleem's question is; Beskar  Boy won't hesitate.

Dez clears his throat, crosses his arms and locks his gaze on the roof of one of the buildings in town. “Neleem asked if I wanted to try having a kid.”

Expecting an outburst of shock and horror, Dez is a little surprised to hear absolutely nothing from the man behind him. Nothing. Not a single word leaves Davarax' lips. Seconds go by, still nothing.

Dez clenches his jaw as more irritation burns inside him. Beskar Boy can't even do this for him.

A faint gargling sound catches Dez' attention and he automatically glances back over his shoulder, only to start and rush over as he sees Davarax choking due to the iron bar pressing down on his throat and his trembling arms being unable to lift it.

The second Dez grabs a hold of the bar and lifts it up, Davarax rolls off the bench and stumbles away, coughing and heaving for air. He rubs his throat when he is forced to a halt as he has backed up against the wall.

Puzzled, Dez just stands there like an idiot while the other idiot regains his breath and brain capacity.

“What is it with actively trying to kill me these days?!” Davarax snaps the second he's able to.

Hot fury spreads through his veins and Dez drops the bar for it to hit the floor with a thundering sound. “It's not my fault you put on more weight than you can lift!”

“I was able to lift it just fine before you came along and distracted me!” Davarax declares.

Dez snarls with burning indignation and stalks towards Beskar Boy until he's up in his face. “I'm not allowed to speak around you all of a sudden?”

Davarax takes a couple of deep breaths, shuts his eyes tight before opening them again and the anger seems to drain from his body. “I didn't mean...” He meets Dez' gaze and sighs. “I just freaked out. I couldn't breathe and... I overacted. I'm sorry.”

Dez blinks. He's... sorry? The man is apologizing? What the hell is Dez supposed to..? What is... No. Anger flares up inside him, vicious anger, and Dez throws a punch.

-

Unnaturally quick reflexes makes it so Davarax manages to dodge the worst of it, the fist merely grazes his cheekbone before slamming into the wall behind him, and he spins around to shove Dez face first into the very same wall. There he holds him, an arm across the back of Dez' neck, and shouts: “Will you stop trying to hit me all the time, you idiot?!”

“Then stop pissing me off!” Dez shouts back, squirming angrily.

“Then I'll have to really stop breathing as that seems to be enough to piss you off!” Davarax counters.

Ramming his elbow back into Beskar Boy, forcing him to let to and back away with a harsh breath, Dez is the one to spin around now, with every intention to beat the snot out of the other man when... Davarax' palm connects with Dez' cheek and snaps his face to the side with a loud, stinging slap.

Stunned, too shocked for anger, Dez slowly reaches up and touches the burning skin before he just as slowly turns his face back to stare at Davarax with utter disbelief.

Davarax, who is pointing a stern finger right into Dez' face. “Stop. Trying. To hit me. Okay?”

“You...” Dez stutters, struggling to believe what had just happened. “You slapped me.”

Davarax crosses his arms defensively. “Yeah. I did.”

“You slapped me. Like some Alderaan politican.” Dez rambles on, hand still on his cheek.

“It worked. Made you stop, didn't it?” This is when Davarax fails to keep a straight face and he snorts a laugh, as if he too is struggling to believe he'd just done that.

Dez hears himself snorting a laugh as well. He can't help it. It's too surreal.

Visibly relieved, Davarax reaches out and places a cautious but friendly hand on Dez' shoulder. “Are we done fighting? Can we talk now?”

Suddenly strangely reluctant to talk after his words had startled Davarax so badly he nearly suffocated himself, Dez rubs his cheek and moves to leave the damn shed. He finds he doesn't want to hear the painful truth after all. Not right now, at least. “I'm done talking.” The amiable hand on his shoulder tightens its grip and he barely gets to take one step forward before Dez is forced to a halt and he sighs. Great. He braces himself and looks over at Davarax, wanting it over with.

“You said she wanted to try. What about you? What do you want?.” Davarax says a little awkwardly.

Dez shrugs his free shoulder, trying for a neutral face but suspects he looks sullen. “What I want doesn't matter. I've already shown that I can't raise a kid.” The truth hurts. It burns. Especially in front of Beskar Boy. However, Dez is no coward and will face the pain.

Davarax looks disgustingly sympathetic. “Things are different now, Dez. You're different. And this time, you won't be raising them alone. You have a wife, family and friends to help you.”

Frowning, not liking the way agonized hope starts clawing inside his chest, Dez pretends to stare out the open door. “Having a wife, family and friends didn't prevent me from making Paz' life a misery.”

“Give me your hands.” Davarax says.

“What?” Dez looks over at him, confused.

Beskar Boy holds out his hands for Dez to place his in them. “Give me your hands.” “No.” Dez replies, pauses, then adds; “Why?”

“Because what I'm going to tell you is going to make you try to hit me again.”

Scowling, Dez does not like the sound of that. “Then don't say it.”

Davarax merely wiggles his fingers.

“No.” Dez growls and means to stalk away, but the damn man is too fast and steps in front of him again.

“Okay. Fine.” Davarax says in a rush. “No hands. Just... try not to hit me, or I'll have to slap you again.” Dez frowns, not keen on experiencing that again. It's too weird. “Fine.”

Nodding, Davarax doesn't look entirely convinced, but he does speak. “The family you had left at that time didn't care, not like Paz does. You had followers, but not real friends. And Skade-”

Dez exhales a sharp breath, physically twitching at the sound of that name, and angry heat flares up his neck. “You're right” No one says that name around him. “I want to punch you now.” He clenches his right hand into a tight fist and only manages to hold back due to pure willpower.

Davarax avoids his gaze and folds in on himself a bit to probably appear less physically intimidating and completely non-confrontational. “I'm just saying things are different now, Dez. If she wants to try for a kid and you want the same, I think you should at least talk to her. Tell her what's worrying you.” Beskar Boy huffs a faint laugh. “Fine, yeah, roll your eyes, Dez.” Did he? Yeah, probably. “But talking is what brought your son back to you. Use your words, man.” He has the audacity to give Dez' shoulder a playful slap. “Nemi would love for there to be another kid around, someone closer to her age.”

Dez is too stunned to punch him.

-

When dusk has crawled over the planet and people are settling down for the night, Dez is sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, when Neleem enters and walks over to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” She sounds worried.

“Sit.” Dez says, patting the mattress next to him.

Usually orders makes Neleem instantly rebellious, but there is no arrogance in his voice and the last couple of days' stifling atmosphere makes her merely sit down and she looks at him in silence as if bracing for whatever he's about to say.

Dez hesitates, has to dig deep to find the courage, then looks over at her worried face. “I've been thinking about what you said. And, I don't want to ruin another kid's life.”

Frowning, Neleem shakes her head a little. “What makes you think you would?”

“Because I'm me.” Dez says with a touch of bitter amusement. “You know what I'm like.”

Neleem reaches over and places her hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Do you want another child, Dez?”

“That doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters.” Neleem squeezes his hand again. “And it is the first thing we need to sort out, before we talk about your worries.”

Talk. Of course. Dez should resent it, but... he finds himself willing to try. Beskar Boy was right; talking had built a tentative bridge between Dez and Paz, so maybe it could work here as well? “What I want and what is right might not be the same thing, Neleem.”

“Do you? Yes or no.”

Feeling the pressure of her question, wanting to be honest but worried what it might lead to, Dez stalls for a moment before managing a faint nod. He had sworn never to lie to her.

“Okay, good, then we can move on to the next question.” Neleem says, tugging his hand slightly to make him look over at her again. “But if you need a break or I ask something you don't want to talk about, you say 'that is enough' and we'll stop. Do you understand?”

To Dez' endless relief, she doesn't look angry, impatient or, worst of all, resentful. He feels a tiny release in his tense muscles. He even manages to fake a little nonchalance. “Ask your question, Neleem.”

“Do you understand?” Neleem repeats, clearly not moving on until he confirms so he nods. She eyes him for a moment, scanning him, then does indeed ask her question. And it is followed by others. And slowly, Neleem tugs at one string after another until she unravels a terrifying amount of Dez' fears and concerns about bringing an infant into their lives, all while gently countering them with her views and some facts he cannot deny.

After nearly two hours of feeling like he's balancing on top of the sharp edge of a blade, Dez finally buckles and, to his humiliation, has to use the words Neleem had given him.

“That's enough.” Dez reluctantly mutters. He's exhausted, like he's done battle for two hours instead of just talking, and can feel the urge to reach for anger to shield himself from more questions.

“Yeah...” Neleem replies, and to his surprise; she looks pleased with him. “Yeah, I think that's enough for tonight.” She reaches out and gently cups the side of his face. “Thank you. For this.”

“For being weak?” Dez whispers with weary bitterness.

“For being strong.” Neleem corrects him. Her eyes are stern but not cruel. She means it. Which is even weirder. “Throwing a punch is easy. I know this is very difficult for you.” She caresses his face. “But I promise; it will be worth it.”

Dez nods. It goes against everything he's been taught in the past, but he chooses to believe her.

-

He had told her how bad of an idea it would be for him to sire a child thinking it would result in a quick and painful resolution, but Dez discovers that he couldn't have been more wrong. Instead it results in three days of more uncomfortable talking, startling realizations and, something Dez has never agreed to in the past, compromises.

“Any child of mine will be raised as a Mandalorian.” He informs her on the second evening.

“I have no problem with that.” Neleem replies. “I've learned the value of being able to fight and defend yourself, and Mandalorian culture is something I agree with. But no child of mine will be trained with harsh words and impossible demands.”

Dez knows he should quote the old sayings, gems and decay and all that, but Davarax trained Din and the others with strict kindness and those kids are still alive alongside Paz, and they never hated their teacher, so... “Agreed.” Borr can kiss his ass from the afterworld.

And there are even some fears eased when he tells her about them.

“You're not bad with children, Dez. Last week, when Nemi climbed up on the table and got a hold of your helmet after you'd placed it there and then poured her glass of juice into it, you didn't get angry. You didn't even raise your voice.”

Dez scoffs, a little offended. “Of course not. She's just a little one.” He's a shitty person, not a monster.

Neleem takes his hand and lifts it to her lips, kissing it, before looking at him with a stunning amount of affection in her dark eyes. “No one showed you kindness or patience as a child, yet you know to apply both to toddler antics. Don't you see how wonderful that is?”

He doesn't. But the way she looks at him when she's saying this? It gives him even more hope.

And slowly; after the uncomfortable conversations, after going from resenting the words she'd given him to stop the talking to feeling less reluctant to enter into the conversations because of them, (Especially as Neleem doesn't resent him for using said words.) the idea of a child becomes increasingly less scary and more like the wonderful creation his younger self had considered them.

There will be a cost, he knows that, but... The happiest time in his life had been the years after Paz was born. And seeing his son just about grown up, the person he's become despite having such a bad father, Dez has never been more proud. To have and to share that with Neleem... Isn't that worth the heartache guaranteed to follow? He's not a coward, dank farrik.

“Let's go for it.” Dez says on the fourth night as they are drifting off to sleep.

Neleem lifts her head and squints sleepily at him through the darkness. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yeah.” Dez replies, glancing over at her and smiling a bit at her sleepy expression. He's strangely at peace with his decision. Worried? Yes. Dreading what the cost will be? Definitely. Yet, Neleem's calm and her belief in him, it makes him want it anyway.

Frowning, Neleem reaches up and touches his face. “We don't have to, remember? We're just talking about it.”

“I know.” Dez reassures her.

Neleem hums with a faint smile, curls back down under the covers and lets sleep claim her.

The next day, she spends the entire morning and part of the day to grill Dez on his decision, prodding and prying and making sure he's not simply indulging her. She seems wary but hopeful and when Dez doesn't change his mind or waver in his decision at all; Neleem is finally convinced.

Two days later, after a long day of hassling Beskar Boy, Dez is getting comfortable in bed when Neleem walks in and pauses by the bed to just stand there. Instantly alert, worried there is bad news, Dez frowns. “What's wrong?”

“I had the chip turned off.” Neleem tells him, her keen eyes scanning his face for his reaction.

The words do land heavy in Dez' gut, but they also bring a nervous excitement. “Well then,” Dez says, reaching out a hand,  “no time to waste.”

Laughing, Neleem takes his hand and lets him gently pull her down next to him. She is trying hard to act calm and collected, but her eyes give her away as they shine with the exact same nervous excitement. “You know, me being a togruta and you being a human, it might not work at all. It doesn't always.”

Dez moves closer and takes a light hold of her chin as he fails to hold back a faint smile. “You and me, working on something together? Cyare, we'll get it right on the very first try.”

Now Neleem outright giggles, definitely nervous but not in a bad way. She tugs him along as she rolls over on her back and gives him an outright coy smile. “Big words, tough guy.”

“You'll see I'm right.” Dez murmurs, then leans down for a beginning kiss.

-

After a fun and delightfully vigorous night, Dez fails to react at all when there is a harsh knock on the door far too early next morning. He's deep into sleep, his face deep into the pillow, when the knocking comes again and once again it doesn't even register with him.

It's on the third round of knocking, accompanied with an irritated shout of; “Dez! Wake your ass up!” from outside the room, when Neleem reaches over and blindly slaps the back of her hand against Dez' shoulder blade and forces him to react.

Grunting annoyed, Dez pushes himself up, squints a glare of hatred at the door before getting out of bed. He yanks on a pair of pants and stomps over to maim whomever is making all of this noise.

It makes absolutely PERFECT sense that the sinner turns out to be Beskar Boy himself.

Bracing one arm against the side of the door frame, Dez scowls at Davarax. “This had better be important. I am one wrong word from punching your face.”

“Get dressed.” Davarax says, all stern business and with no sign of this being a joke. “I need your help. We got to go.”

Dez is suddenly awake, but Neleem is the one who speaks first.

“What's going on?” She asks, sitting up in bed with the covers wrapped around herself, and looking more than a little worried.

Davarax radiates tension and... anger? He hesitates before looking over at her. “Some mercs ambushed Zev and Mose. She's hurt bad, Dulcy is patching her up, but she made it back here to get help. They shot Mose up with something, something that knocked him out, and they took him away, talking about how they were finally rich.”

Dez simply moves over to get fully dressed and armoured up. Time to go and kill some mercs.

Neleem gives a faint shake of her head in utter disbelief and horror. “How can I help?”

“Stop the kids from going after us.” Davarax replies. “They'll want to come along when they find out, and me and Dez need to focus on tracking the mercs down and getting Mose back.”

“You and Dez?” Neleem looks from one to the other. “Just the two of you? Aren't you bringing the others?”

Davarax looks down at the floor and he sighs.

“They won't help.” Dez says in a flat voice, attaching his breastplate and making sure it is secure before picking up his left pauldron to attach that as well. “Mose is not a Mandalorian. He's not officially family. I'm not sure if any of them have even spoken to him. They won't see this as their business.”

“Then order them.” Neleem snaps, getting an even tighter grip on the sheets before shuffling across the mattress on her knees to sit kneeling at the very edge and as close as she can get to Dez. “You're their leader, right? You can order them to help.”

Dez attaches the second pauldron. “I could.” He connects his flame thrower and grabs his helmet and his jetpack. “But I wouldn't be leader for long if I did.” Pausing next to Davarax, Dez looks back at Neleem with calm confidence. “Don't worry. Me and this idiot got this.” Some mercs? Dez has taken on worse opponents by himself and barely broken a sweat. With Beskar Boy as a distraction, this will be easy peasy.

Neleem is not happy, but she manages to nod with reluctant acceptance. “Be careful. Get him back. And hurry home.”

Dez and Davarax nod in unison before they walk out of the room and set course for the Razor Crest. “Stocked up?” Dez asks, meaning weapons and ammunition.

“Always.” Davarax replies. “We're good.” Of course. As if Beskar Boy would be lacking in any department. But for today, Dez will forgive him for his disgusting perfection because it makes their mission easier. Davarax is right; if the kids wake up and find out what has happened to Mose, they'll want to come along and will end up slowing them down instead. Better hurry.

They make it to the ship, barely visible in the semi-darkness of the very crack of dawn, but Dez exhales with annoyed frustration when it becomes clear that two shapes are waiting for them in front of the ship's ramp.

Dulsissia has her arms crossed and a tense frown on her face, but her gaze is resting on the soul next to her rather than the two Mandalorians approaching, because next to her is Zev'sonya.

Dez notes that the girl has what looks like a broken arm bandaged up in a sling, several cuts on her face and a worryingly stubborn expression on her angry face.

“I'm coming with you.” Zev'sonya states.

“Zev...” Davarax sighs, shaking his head. “You-”

“I'm coming with you.” Zev'sonya cuts him off, her voice and her eyes as hard as Beskar.

“I tried to stop her.” Dulsissia says, sounding as unhappy as she looks.

“You come along, you do as you're told. Understood?” Dez says. He doesn't have time for this. “If you don't obey orders, I will knock you out and stuff you in the weapons storage.”

Zev'sonya looks even less pleased, but she nods.

“Excellent.” Dez stalks inside the ship. “Let's go.”

-

The girl keeps quiet for most of the time, she stares out at the stars with a harsh glare in her eyes, but after about two standard days of hunting around for information about those honourless mercs and their location; Zev'sonya finally snaps.

“This is taking too long!” Zev'sonya shouts when Dez and Davarax enter the Razor Crest after another visit to a planet that results in nothing but vague rumours regarding the mercs' lair. “I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this. We have to find them before they kill Mose!”

Pausing next to her in the cargo area, Davarax sighs as he takes off his helmet, about to answer, when Dez walks by them and tells her the truth instead: “They won't kill him. Mose is worth far more to them alive. They are going to keep that big heart of his beating so he can earn them more credits. They are probably planning on draining him for years.” He ignores the stink-eye Beskar Boy sends his way and simply climbs up to the cockpit to start up the ship's engines.

“Listen.” Davarax' voice drifts up from below. “He should have said that a little... differently, but Dez is right about one thing: they won't kill Mose. They won't. He's too valuable.”

“It's my fault...” Zev'sonya whispers.

“It's not your fault. It was a fight you couldn't win.” Davarax offers her. And, knowing him, he probably hugs her. “We will find him and we will get him back. Okay? I promise.”

Dez rolls his eyes. Beskar Boy saving the day again. Dez plots in new coordinates and sets the ship into motion. Let them talk, he'll work on finding the big boy.

It takes another day to finally gets some solid information, but of course Davarax finds the one person in the Galaxy who knows where the two mercs are hiding and gets the truth out of the unfortunate soul. (Dez had almost forgotten how scary Davarax can get when he's truly angry.) And after that, it takes two standard days to get to the space station where their prey is supposed to be hiding.

“You stay here.” Davarax says to Zev'sonya as she stands and watches him and Dez load up on weapons after landing the Razor Crest on the station. Their excuse about needing to land for repairs, offering to pay a lot of credits to be allowed to use their dock, means they won't have long before someone comes snooping around and the fighting begins.

“But I-” The girl starts objecting.

“We had a deal.” Dez tightens the strap on the holster attached to his thigh with one sharp tug before stalking over to grab a rifle from Davarax' collection on the wall. “You do as your told. Or am I knocking you out?” He does not have the time or the patience for this.

“Zev, listen,” Davarax says, eternally patient, “I need you to stay here. Me and Dez will go get Mose, but that means leaving the Crest and someone has to protect her;  without her, we won't be going anywhere after we get him back. Understand?”

Clenching her jaw, Zev'sonya nods.

Davarax hands her a blaster. “Good.” He gives her upper arm a light squeeze, offers her a faint smile, before he walks over to grab a rifle of his own and puts his helmet on. “Dez. Let's go.”

“Waiting on you, Saint Bleeding Heart.” Dez declares, standing by the ramp and feeling more than a little impatient to get going. “Just waiting on you.”

They almost make it to the door leading into the station. Almost. But one sharp-eyed idiot sees them and raises the alarm. That's how the fighting begins.

The opponents are all mediocre mercs and honourless pirates who fight dirty like the cowards they are, which makes it extra fun for Dez to charge at them like a furious bantha to shatter bones as well as spill blood as he ends their lives. Meanwhile, Davarax is all business, sharp and efficient, picking his targets off with one well placed shot after another. Together they fight their way through the armed riffraff and the narrow hallways until they stand facing a metal door the mercs had clumped together to protect. If that isn't an obvious sign that this is where they're keeping Mose, nothing is.

“You okay?” Davarax asks as they are the only ones left standing outside the door.

Dez grunts annoyed as he checks his bleeding arm. A nikto had gotten in a lucky shot and the blast had grazed his arm. Why does a graze hurt more than the three shots Sungodt had placed in his chest? “I'm fine. Just a graze.” Dank farrik. He feels like killing the nikto again. Why did he have to land that shot? Why? Davarax doesn't have a scratch on him. If he wasn't wearing his helmet, Dez is willing to bet that his stupidly perfect hair wouldn't have one strand out of place.

“Good. Let's grab Mose and get out of here.” Davarax says, prodding his vambrace to start slicing the code lock to the door and within seconds it slides open.

-

Davarax steps into the grey and brightly lit room first.

Inside, there are a handful of mercenaries, including the two who Zev'sonya had descibed to perfection as the ones behind the ambush, and behind them all is Mose's big shape. He looks unconscious, eyes closed and head sagging. His body is trapped against the southern wall where it is held up by several broad metal restraints. There are two long, winding tubes going into each arm, plus tubes sticking into his neck on both sides, all of them dark with blood being drawn out of him and transported into some large see-through containers lined up on a table next to him.

“You are going to regret this.” Davarax growls, voice tight with anger.

“This is our Hutt!” One of the mercs declares. He's the only human among the cretins; visibly scared but too greedy to run. He had been one of the two responsible for the ambush.“Besides, why would a Mandalorian care what we do with a Hutt?!”

“Mandalorian culture is all about protecting our children.” Davarax says, aiming his blaster at the idiot who had opened his mouth and is unfazed by how everyone else aim their weapon at him in return. “And that Hutt is one of my kids.”

Amidst the snickers of disbelief, the other merc Zev'sonya had described takes a step forward and places the muzzle of his blaster inches from Davarax' visor. “There's six of us and you're alone. Bad odds, Mando.”

“He's not alone.” Dez counters, entering as well with one blaster in each hand, aiming at the enemy. Usually he is a firm believer in keeping emotions and getting a job done separate, things tend to get messy if you don't, but in this particular case; he'll make an exception. He can see signs of how there had been a struggle in that room and how one of Mose's eyes is swollen shut. “You kidnapped my nephew, you morons. Stupid. Real stupid.”

The tallest of the mercs draws a breath to say something else but never gets to actually speak as Dez fires and the shot bursts through him. At the same time, Davarax turns his head to let the Beskar helmet deflect the shot fired at it while he takes down another merc with his blaster.

This fight is a bit more difficult, simply because the room is so small that it doesn't give them much room to maneuver combined with the risk of accidentally hitting Mose, but one by one the enemies fall and Dez feels a flicker of delight when Davarax ignores the wailing complaints of the merc leader who had aimed his blaster at him and simply ends his life with cold efficiency.

No one hurts their family and gets away with it.

Dez walks by him, smacking a hand at Davarax' pauldron to snap him out of his killing frenzy, and the two make their way over to Mose.

“Hey, Mose, you awake?” Davarax asks, examining the metal restraints to see how to open them.

There is a faint groan from Mose, but he doesn't open his eyes.

Dez kneels down and starts working on the metal restraint pinning down Mose's tail. “He's not going to be able to shuffle, slither, whatever. How are we going to get him back to the ship?”

“I don't know...” Davarax admits, ramming the tip of a vibroblade into the lock to make it short-circuit and open. “Any ideas? He seems pretty out of it.”

Dez grunts, bending the metal away from the bruised tail and moving on to the restraint across Mose's lower belly. “Are there any stim packs in this place?” This room looks like a twisted version of a medical bay. Surely there has to be some medical supplies?

“No idea.” Davarax replies, pulling the tubes out of Mose's arms. “But I'm not sure how, or even if, Hutt biology reacts to stims.”

Exhaling no small amount of frustration, why hadn't they thought of this, Dez looks up at Mose's face and has a crazy idea. “We'll have to carry him.”

“There's no way we'll be able to carry him.” Davarax gently taps the side of Mose's face, trying to make him wake up through sheer force of hope.

Dez starts working on another metal restraint, the one across the middle of the big belly. “We might.” He forces the lock open. “If we disable the safety on our jetpacks.”

Davarax pauses, considers it, probably mulls over how dangerous it could be as those restrictions are there for a reason. If they overheat, they will either shut down or explode, the latter one bound to either kill or severely injure them. Eventually Davarax still gives a decisive nod. “It's worth a try.” He turns his back towards Dez. “Do it.”

Dez finishes opening the restraint on Mose then quickly moves over to open a panel on Davarax' jetpack, plucking out a couple of wires and after a moment of hesitation, he cuts them. Dez turns and waits for Davarax to do the same with his, then they both go back to freeing the Hutt.

When the final restraint is gone, Mose instantly sags forward and they grab an arm each and ease it over their shoulders to hold him somewhat upright between them. Dank farrik, he's heavy.

Davarax looks over at Dez. “You ready?”

Dez takes a breath. “Yeah.” He ignores the warning that flashes on his HUD in regards to damage done to his jetpack and the ache in his back from holding up Mose's weight. “Watch his tail.” If Mose moves it near the blast, that tail will be gone.

They activate their jetpacks, which instantly tries to lift them according to data from earlier flights and keeps increasing in power when they're not moving. Soon they are boosting up beyond what is safe...

Eventually the combined force of their jetpacks pushing hard enough to lift a small starfighter has them a couple of inches over the floor and able to start moving ever so slowly towards where the Razor Crest is waiting for them. (The fact that the intense heat from their jetpacks melts deep groves into the floor that will be a nightmare to fix is oddly pleasing to Dez.) Time to go.

-

Back in the hangar, they arrive to find three fallen bodies next to the Crest which proves Zev'sonya had taken her role as the ship's guardian quite seriously. Dez is starting to really like this girl.

“Is he okay?” Zev'sonya exclaims as she appears at the top of the ramp and runs towards them.

“Anemic and sedated, I think.” Davarax replies, his voice strained. Both he and Dez are sweating like crazy after what feels like carrying a dewback for ten hours.

They get on board the ship, eases Mose down to rest in the cargo area, and Dez heads up to the cockpit to start the ship's engines, leaving Zev'sonya to look after her friend and Beskar Boy to deal with the two glowing hot jetpacks that might still explode at any moment.

The Razor Crest comes to life and disappears into the darkness of space before the few remaining souls on the space station can muster up any kind of counter-attack.

Even after an entire hour of nothing happening, other than daring to take off his helmet, Dez continues to keep an eye on the radar, just in case. He doesn't look over when Davarax finally joins him in the cockpit and stands next to him. “The kids okay?”

“Mose seems okay, but not quite ready to dance yet. Zev is watching over him like a broody tipyip.” Davarax replies. He then has the audacity to touch the bloodstained fabric on Dez' arm. “I'll help you with this.”

Dez yanks his arm away and finally takes his eyes off the radar to glare up at Beskar Boy. Does he think he can't handle a damn graze? He's no weakling in distress, he's a Vizla! “You think I need your help? You think I can't deal with this myself?”

Davarax takes his helmet off and walks over to place it on the co-pilot seat. “I didn't say that. I just said I would help you with it. That's all.” He opens a panel and takes out a medical kit and has the nerve to walk back to Dez' side. “Let me help you, okay?”

Clenching his jaw, Dez keeps quiet and reluctantly lets Davarax take a hold of his arm and start cleaning the wound with a disinfectant. Things goes from insulting to weird and downright uncomfortable because Davarax takes his time, keeps his touch light and gently dabs the blood away instead of just wiping it clean and burning it shut. It feels... nice. And 'nice' and 'Davarax' do not mix well together up in Dez' head. “Can you hurry up?” He snaps.

“Why?” Beskar Boy asks a little absently, crouching next to him, focused on his work.

“I could have dealt with it a lot faster myself.” Dez declares. “I don't have time for this.”

“Oh?” Davarax finally looks up at him. “Are you in a hurry? Going somewhere? Did the Emperor summon you? No? Then shut up and let me do this.”

Dez blinks, utterly surprised.

“Dulcy taught me something.” Davarax says with a disgusting touch of warmth to his voice. He starts cleaning the wound again. “Just because we can tolerate pain doesn't mean we have to seek it unnecessarily, Dez. There is no honour in that. As Dulcy says; it's just silly.”

Dez clenches his jaw and stares out the transparisteel. “You're an idiot.”

Davarax huffs a soft laugh and begins wrapping his arm with a bacta bandage.

The second the wound is dealt with, Dez yanks his arm away and demonstrably stares at the radar. “Good deed done. Now, get out.”

“Nope.” Davarax declares in a horribly cheerful tone. “This is my ship. You get out. You're in my seat.”

Hot fury flares up and it takes no small amount of will-power for Dez not to punch him. So what if he's right? Beskar Boy doesn't get to order him around! However, Dez is tired, he just wants to get back to Neleem, so fighting with Davarax just isn't worth it right now. Instead, Dez gets up, scowls at Davarax, who happily ignores him, and leaves the cockpit. Might as well get some sleep.

Below, in the cargo area, Dez glances back at the other two souls on the ship as he steps away from the ladder. That, unfortunately, results in making eye-contact with the girl and she of course takes that as a sign to walk over and talk to Dez. Great...

“How is he?” Dez asks, nodding towards Mose. It's the one thing he's interested in hearing about.

“Asleep again. They got him pretty heavily sedated.” Zev'sonya replies. Her voice is hard with hatred for the mercs who had done this. “But he's going to be okay.” She hesitates, looks as uncomfortable as Dez feels, clears her throat and forces the next words out. “Thank you.”

Dez keeps his focus on Mose. “I'm a Mandalorian. I don't let kids get kidnapped and bled.”

“But you didn't have to call him your nephew.” Zev'sonya counters, a tiny tinge of fragility in her voice. “Me and him, we didn't really have much of a family before, so... I know what that meant to him.”

Two things happen at once: Dez can feel his face flush with embarrassment and a thought strikes him: - It's me? Dank farrik, Paz has it from me!

Dez has always huffed at how his son's face will turn red whenever he's embarrassed, putting his emotions on display for everyone to see, but now Dez can feel his own face burning and he desperately wishes he hadn't removed his helmet. He's never thought much about what was going on with his own face in the past as he always wore his helmet around others. Plus; no one dared to say or do anything to make Dez feel embarrassed so it wasn't really something that happened a lot.

“It's, uh, yeah, he's... you're both... yeah...” Dez awkwardly pats her shoulder, then turns and stalks over to the corner furthest away from them to sit down there.

Luckily the girl takes the hint and goes back to Mose.

Dez' arm should be aching and smelling of burned flesh, instead it is only slightly sore and the bacta doing its work tickles a bit. Dez' face is still hot and he knows he acted like an idiot in addition to looking like one. His stomach is a tense ball. His jaw aches from clenching it so hard.

Sitting in the shadows, scowling at nothing, Dez misses the old days when he didn't have to deal with weird situations like this!

-

Davarax joins them in the cargo hold later on, telling them that he'd informed Dulcy and the others  that Mose is safe and that they're heading home.

Home. Dez tastes the word. Home? He's had Coverts in the past, but never a home... Frowning, he curls up tighter and looks away from where Beskar Boy and his two children are talking together.

It's a long journey back. Once the Razor Crest finally touches ground, Dez stands by the door and waits eagerly for it to lower the ramp and let him out of this prison. Freedom is within reach when he realizes someone has moved to stand next to him. Dez tenses up.

“Thank you.” Mose mumbles.

Oh. A bit of the tension bleeds away from his shoulders. Dez keeps his gaze on the door. “No thanks needed. We look after our own, you know that.”

“It's why few people would be stupid enough to kidnap a Mandalorian. A Hutt, though...” Mose sighs. “Thank you.”

Dez slowly turns his head and looks over at Mose. “Hey...” He meets the Hutt's gaze, holds it firm as he repeats his words to leave no room for doubt. “We look after our own.”

Luckily the ramp lowers at this point, giving him a chance to escape and not having to deal with all the emotions he can see whirling in those big Hutt eyes.

Outside of the ship, the kids are waiting with accusatory glares and anxious concern, only Liita seems to be missing, but Dez doesn't stop to talk to them. He'll only mess it up by saying something wrong, so he'll let Beskar Boy say the right things. He gives Paz' shoulder a light squeeze as he walks by him, pleased to see he's there and doing well, ignores his son's questions, quickly shies away from Dulsissia hovering behind his boy and heads instead for Neleem standing in the doorway.

“Hey.” Dez says with a slight smile as he comes to a halt in front of her.

Her dark eyes linger on his bandaged arm for a moment before she studies his face. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Dez replies. “Can we go inside?” The loud talking by the ship is grating on his brain.

Only when they're inside their private room does the tension leave his shoulders entirely and Dez can finally relax. He even manages to give Neleem a real grin. He's missed her. Looking at her now, he recognizes what that feeling in his chest had been. He's missed her like crazy. Dez takes her hand, eases her closer and steals a kiss from her lips. “What about you, Vizla Baby Mama? You been doing okay while I was gone?”

Neleem rolls her eyes, but she fails to hide her flustered smile. “I somehow managed to survive while sitting by the window, wringing my hands and counting the days for your return.” She steals a kiss of her own as he breathes an amused laugh before she pushes Dez away and gives him a haughty look. “But I am going to knock your ego down a notch.”

Even more amused, Dez leans back against the door and gives her his most obnoxious smirk. “Oh?”

Raising a coy eyebrow, Neleem saunters over to the corner table and picks up the medical scanner lying there. She holds it up for him to see. “Ready?” Not really waiting for an answer, Neleem scans herself and turns the scanner to read the results.

And in front of his eyes, Neleem transforms from smug confidence to shocked silence. Her eyes widen with stunned disbelief.

“Told you.” Dez says, concluding that the scan must have shown she's pregnant. Just like he said she would be. Hah. He takes a deep breath. So, it's really happening. There's going to be a child. Dez takes another deep breath, then wonders if there is something wrong with him or the room or the air itself, because neither breath helped and he needs oxygen. Now. He clears his throat and shakes his head a little. He can't get sick as they're having a child together.

“Dez?” Neleem slowly lowers the scanner.

Dez forces himself to smile. His lungs ache. Why isn't he getting enough air? And why is the room getting so karking bright? He gulps down some more air. His fingertips feel cold.

“Dez!” Neleem rushes over, grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards their bed. “Sit down. Come on, sit down.” Dez nods and sits down as he's inexplicably dizzy.

“Keep your head down.” Neleem says, running her hand in circles on his back. “Breathe. That's it.”

Nodding a couple of times more, Dez tries to focus on breathing and eventually his stupid body remembers to do its job and his chest starts to decompress.

“Dez...” Neleem's hand rests on her back and her voice is small and uncertain. “Are you having second thoughts? Are you regretting-” “No.” Dez sits up straight in a hurry and looks right into her eyes. “No, I want this.” He says, and means it. “With you. I do.”

Neleem's eyes glimmer with tears and even a bit of relief. She sags forward and rests her forehead against his shoulder.

Easing his arm around her, Dez tells himself that he'll get things right this time. He will. He has to.

-

Neleem:

Everything changes after she learns she's pregnant. Neleem was prepared for things to change, knew there would be challenges because life never makes anything easy, and she was willing to work through them if it meant they would come out happier and stronger on the other end. She prepared herself for all kinds of scenarios. Even the worst.

(Dez agrees to keep the pregnancy a secret for the first couple of months, respectful even though he doesn't share her concerns about how her being a togruta and him being human increases the risk of things going wrong. “Neleem, our kid has Vizla blood and that makes them as tough and resilient as Beskar. You'll see.”)

But what Neleem couldn't prepare for was the downright weird, which is exactly how Dez starts to behave.

At first she keeps thinking he is regretting his decision as he becomes distant and will barely touch her, but that also doesn't make sense as she will catch him looking at her, when he thinks she isn't paying attention, and his eyes are warm and happy. He'll curl up on his side of the bed at night, making sure there is distance between them, but if she curls up to him, he'll hold her like he never wants to let go. Trying to talk to him about it only gives her elusive answers which leaves her confused and him visibly anxious. It doesn't make sense.

Maybe it's just Mandalorian culture? Dez had told her from the very start that it wasn't a way of life built on sentimentality or softness in general. Even their weddings were private and efficient rather than a big celebration of love.

“When you were pregnant with Nemi,” Neleem tries to sound nonchalant when she speaks to Dulcy, “what was Davarax like? All stoic Mandalorian attitude?”

“Velcro.” Dulsissia firmly replies before laughing and shaking her head, fully focused on whatever she is writing. “I swear, that man couldn't keep his hands off me. It was a complete opposite to when I was carrying Corin. Dav was so sweet and clingy that I wanted to marry him all over again every single day.”

Neleem swallows hard and stares out the window. Not Mandalorian culture then. Is it her?

She finally gets a piece to the puzzle one morning in their room when Neleem is running a hand over her belly, it's only been a couple of months but she swears she can feel a distinct change, and she catches Dez sneaking a peek over at her while pretending to work on something on his vambrace.

“It might just be my imagination,” Neleem says, “but if what I'm feeling is real, we might end up with another Paz-sized kid around here.”

Dez pauses in his work and his gaze rests on the hand she has on her stomach.

Neleem decides to risk it. “You want to feel?”

That seems to shock him. “I can?”

“Yeah.” Neleem barely has gotten the word out before he's up on his feet and over by her side, his hand sliding next to hers. There is a faint, but giddy smile on his lips. It's sweet. And reassuring.

This experience is not new to him, but it is to her and frankly, at times it is a bit scary.

“Does it feel like with Paz?” Neleem asks with a nervous laugh. He must have been a huge baby.

To her surprise, Dez snorts amused. “Are you kidding me? Skade made it perfectly clear she'd break my wrist and possibly my neck if I touched her after she got pregnant.” He caresses her stomach and gives her a bright and excited grin. “You definitely feel different.”

Neleem holds on to her smile through pure willpower combined with the joy she feels about his obvious delight in the moment, but her mind is chewing on what Dez had said. He rarely, barely at all, talks about his former wife and has made it clear that it is not something he wants to talk about. All this time Neleem figured it was anger over her walking out on their son and his pride being hurt due to a broken marriage that made it an off-limit topic, but now an uneasy feeling is churning inside her chest. What if there is more to it than that?

She needs to learn a bit more about this Skade...

-

“Hey, Paz, can I talk to you?” Neleem asks, approaching where he is sitting on the fence in the backyard of the house, watching Raga doing target practice with increasing skill and decreasing patience with every shot she deems less than perfect. It's just the two kids there. Perfect.

Paz glances over at Neleem and shrugs with easy trust. “Sure. What's on your mind?”

He really is a sweet boy. Young man is more like it, considering his age, but Dulcy is right; they will always be babies to them. Paz has his father's eyes. Only with far less bitterness in them. Neleem hesitates, suddenly worried it might not be a good idea to go through with it, but an encouraging smile gives her the courage needed. “Listen, I want to ask you something and you are absolutely allowed to tell me to mind my own business, okay?”

Frowning confused, Paz nods.

Another moment of hesitation before Neleem asks. “What was your mother like? You were quite young when she left, I know, I was just wondering what you remember of her. Dez refuses to talk about her, as you know.”

A harshness emerges in Paz' eyes and his mouth draws into a thin line. Neleem is pathetically relieved that it is quite obvious that his anger is not directed at her, but rather his mother. It makes sense. She'd be angry too if her mother just left without a word.

“I don't remember too much...” Paz grumbles. “But I do remember her. I remember her voice. She was always shouting. Arguing.  So while I wanted her attention, it was never a good idea to actually get it.” He clears his throat to buy himself some time to bottle up his feelings again. “Sorry. That's not really helpful, is it?”

“Actually, it is.” Neleem replies a little wistfully. It strengthens her suspicions. She reaches out and runs her hand up and down his arm. “I didn't mean to open old wounds. I'm sorry. I just... He refuses to talk about her and I didn't know who else to ask.”

Paz nods, clearly weighed down by old memories. “It's okay. I've tried to get him to talk about her several times, but it's like ramming your head against a wall, isn't it? After she left, it was like saying her name would summon some horrible spirit.” He suddenly sits up a little straighter and looks a bit defiant. “You know, as a kid I thought it was somehow my fault that she left. Now I'm glad she left and I want her to stay gone.” His words take on a softer tone. “After Dulcy entered the Covert and I saw her with Davarax, I saw how two people who love each other should behave. And then, when you came along, I actually saw my father happy. I never saw him happy with my mother.” He blinks as he realizes something. “Hey, you should ask Davarax. He probably remembers a lot more than I do. And useful stuff too.”

“What are you two talking about?” Raga asks as she walks over to them, clearly too curious to keep practicing her accuracy.

“My mother.” Paz replies before Neleem can say anything.

Raga makes a face as she takes up position next to Paz, resting her arms on top of the fence he's sitting on. “Oof. Old Man Vizla won't like that.”

“No, he won't.” Paz drawls, then grins. “But what he doesn't know can't hurt him. Or piss him off.”

That has Raga cackling an approving laugh.

“Do you remember her, Raga?” Neleem asks, now that the secret is out anyway.

Raga shrugs and wrinkles her nose. “Barely. I was only four when she left. I remember she was tall and loud and that she was the only one who could make 'my' mother shut up, which is why I think my mother, and my father, never liked her.”

“Ask Davarax.” Paz repeats, far more gently than Neleem deserves for being so nosy.

But it takes her close to six days before Neleem is given a chance to talk to Davarax in private. She learns he's going to do some fine-tuning on the Razor Crest's computer system, the man showers that ship with as much love and attention as he does his wife and children, Din being in town with Dulcy and Corin means he'll be alone, and that is the perfect opportunity.

-

Entering the cockpit of the Razor Crest, Neleem sees the broad shouldered shape of Davarax sitting his the pilot seat. She forces herself to walk over to stand next to him and glues on a smile. “Hey.”

In the middle of plotting in commands on the computer, he sends her a quick glance accompanied with a, mildly confused, smile of his own. “Hey. Something wrong?”

“No.” Neleem makes her way over to the co-pilot seat and sinks down to sit down at the very edge of it. “I, uhm, I wanted to ask you something. In private.”

That catches his attention and Davarax pushes two more buttons before he sits up straight and focuses on her completely with an amused look on his face. “Okay, now you got me curious.”

Neleem breathes a nervous laugh, nodding to acknowledge the weirdness of the situation, and she looks down at the floor because eye contact would rob her of her courage. “I wanted to ask you... if you could tell me about Paz' mother? What was she like?”

Davarax hums and he leans back in his seat. “I take it Dez still refuses to talk about her?”

Glancing up at Davarax, Neleem nods. “I was fine with it as long as I thought he was angry with her on his son's behalf and nurturing his own wounded pride, but...”

“But?” Davarax gently prods, now with concern in his eyes.

“But now I think I need to now more about her.” Neleem hopes Dez will forgive her for this if he ever finds out. (He doesn't want to talk about his first wife, but that doesn't mean Neleem can't ask others, right?) “Will you tell me about her?”

Davarax hesitates, stalls for a moment by looking forward through the transparisteel, then he finally glances back at her and lifts a warning finger. “For the record, the things I'm about to tell you, this was the time before me and Dez became best buddies forever and ever. Okay? Back then, me and him weren't... exactly... simpatico. That doesn't mean I feel the same way now. Just, keep that in mind, yeah?”

Neleem nods. “Duly noted.” She knew she had married a complicated man with a complicated past.

Clearing his throat, Davarax looks a little awkward. “So, her name was Skade. She was tall, loud and obnoxious. Just like Dez. I thought they were perfect for each other.”

“They were quite young when they got married, right?” Neleem has done the math based on Paz' age compared to his father's.

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms. “Dez was eighteen.” He frowns and scratches at the stubbled front of his throat as he rummages through the past. “Skade was either twenty two or twenty three. I'm not sure. It was quite the surprise. Nobody expected that marriage to happen as she always had a thing for Pre, who ironically couldn't care less about her. All he cared about was preparing for war.”

Neleem wonders if the nausea she's feeling is the pregnancy or what she's hearing. “He didn't even care that she married his younger brother?”

“He was furious.” Davarax says. “Not so much because Dez married Skade, but that Dez had the audacity to marry at all. He expected him to help him prepare for war, not start a family. However, as we both know, Dez is as stubborn and ornery as a sore-hoofed mudhorn and does whatever he wants.”

“Dez was in love with her.” Neleem whispers. She's seen what he's willing to do for love.

“Probably.” Davarax replies, then makes a face. “Kind of hard to tell. They were fighting from day one. Always shouting and yelling and snarling.”

That she did not expect. Neleem blinks surprised. “From the very beginning?”

“Yup.” Davarax confirms and then shakes his head with resigned bafflement. “I just figured it was their thing. I mean, it sounded exhausting and mean to me, but whatever rocked their boat, right?”

It doesn't make sense to Neleem. Arguments always leave Dez distressed. No, he's at his most content when they are basically cuddling. “They spent five years together, fighting non-stop?”

“Yeah.” Davarax huffs. “They were fighting about Pre's war preparations, about how Dez was reluctant to take over as the clan leader and replace Pre, about how to raise their son, about Dez' choice of armor, about how they didn't have the largest of the Vizla living quarters, about Dez losing a fight to Furyan, about my sister choosing to send me out on most missions, about Dez being lazy, about Dez not...” His voice trails off and Davarax suddenly frowns as he seems to lose himself in his memories. His eyes flicker as if he's watching a holo-movie rushing by him. Then there is a flare of hot anger in Davarax' eyes before he squeezes them shut and thumps his head back, hard, against the headrest of the pilot seat.

Startled, Neleem flinches a bit. “Davarax?”

“He didn't fight back.” Davarax grits out, voice tight with the anger she'd seen, and he seems to need a moment to get control of it before he can open his eyes again and look at her. “I just realized; he never fought back. It was always her. She was always yelling and complaining and he'd barely open his mouth.” A bitter smile. “And I didn't realize until this very moment because I was too busy being selfish and jealous. Dez was a jerk and yet he was living my dream, a partner and children, while I was hunting down felons with no hope of anything else in my future.” He thumps his head again, clearly frustrated, before he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a controlled exhale. “I can't believe I didn't realize. The guy was drowning in front of my eyes for years and I didn't see it. No wonder he's been so angry with me.”

Despite how his words had made the unease she'd felt about Dez' past triple, Neleem can't help but to reach out and take a light hold of Davarax' hand. “Listen, you were both kids back then. And you had your own problems. Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?”

Davarax grunts, torn between the urge to blame himself and doing as he's told. “Next time he tries to punch me, I'm going to let him.”

Neleem has to smile, despite everything, and she squeezes his hand. “I don't think that'll achieve much, do you?”

Shrugging with a morose look on his face, Davarax sinks under the weight of guilt. “Tell that to the guy who needed a friend and got called obnoxious instead.”

While Dez has his personal stuff to work on, Neleem also feels bad for Davarax too with his intense need to save everyone and his inability to say 'no' to 99% of requests sent his way. It's an exhausting way to live. People pleasers of his level usually burn out hard. Maybe meeting Dulcy and having her former husband cause Davarax to lose his helmet had actually saved his life? “We can't do anything about the past. All we can do is try to help him now. Which you are, by being his friend despite his temper and paranoia.” She gets up and moves her hand to rest on Davarax' shoulder for a moment. “Thank you for telling me about Skade. It explains some things I was wondering about.”

It's endlessly easier to do battle when you know your enemy, even if it is a ghost from the past.

-

Dulsissia:

Dulsissia is chattering away about the day, about the kids and the trouble the other Saxons, Vizlas and whatnots had gotten into, when she notices that Davarax is unusually quiet this evening. While she's been talking and getting ready for sleep, he's been sitting on the bed and only occasionally nodding to her words. Turning to properly face him, Dulsissia studies his face and sees something is clearly weighing heavily on his mind. “Hey.” She says.

Blinking, snapping out of his half-daze, Davarax focuses on her. “Sorry, what?” He'd clearly not been listening at all. “I didn't... I'm sorry.”

Dulsissia walks over and sits down next to him, reaching out her hand to gently cup the side of his face. “What's wrong, sweetie?”

Sighing, Davarax covers her hand with his and leans into her touch. “Neleem asked me about Paz' mother today.”

“The one we don't talk about.” Dulsissia mumbles.

“The very one.” Davarax confirms. “But I figured she had the right to know about her, considering she's with Dez, and we both know Dez won't tell her so...”

“So you helped our friend.” Dulsissia concludes, running her thumb over his scruff. “That's a good thing, my big, beautiful, kind and adorable man. Okay?” She expects to see the usual awkward smile on his face after her words, but instead he seems to fold in on himself a bit and that worries her.

“It made me realize what a selfish and stupid brat I was.” Davarax mutters.

Confused, Dulsissia frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I was so jealous when Dez got married and was to be a father. I hated his guts.” Shame is soaking every word that leaves Davarax' lips. “And it really annoyed me that they were fighting all the time instead of being grateful for what they had and what others... really wanted. I was so busy being petty that I completely failed to notice the obvious.”

“Which was?”

There is a moment of hesitation before Davarax makes a frustrated sound, lets go of her hand and leans away to create some distance between them. “He never fought back. She was always picking away at him, always unhappy with something about him or something he did, constantly trying to push him into a fight with Pre, and I failed to notice how Dez would usually keep quiet or just walk away.” He dares a glance back at Dulsissia. “That woman tore him to shreds, daily, and yet I've never heard him say one bad thing about her other than how she walked out on their son.”

Dulsissia needs a second to digest this information, stunned by what she's heard as she struggles to imagine the Dez she knows putting up with any of that, but then realizes that Macero would never have been able to trick the woman she is today either. Back then Dez had been young and in love, just like her. And, unfortunately, it also sounds as if he'd fallen for the wrong person too. “Sweetie...” Dulsissia eases Davarax close again and wraps her arms around him. “You were just a kid too. You can't blame yourself. And no matter how much you'd like it, you can't save everyone.”

Davarax sighs, a resigned sound. “You sound like Neleem. She said something similar.”

Humming a laugh, Dulsissia places a brief kiss by his temple. “That's because we are both brilliantly wise women who know what we're talking about.”

That finally gets a smile from Davarax, but it's a brief thing before more guilt emerges in his eyes. “It used to piss me off how he's always swinging his fists at me, thinking it was because I 'stole' Paz, because I wouldn't hesitate to that again. But now? Now I keep thinking I deserve the punches for not helping him back then.”

“No.” Dulsissia says, gently but leaving no room for argument. “It's sweet of you, as usual, but no. Him punching you won't fix anything and you certainly do not deserve it. Understand?”

Davarax nods, but it is halfhearted and clearly unconvinced.

Dulsissia grabs a hold of his chin and forces him to meet her eyes. “He does not get to punch you. And I 'will' tie you to a chair and have the kids tell you, in agonizing detail, how wonderful you are and how much you mean to them if you keep talking like this.”

This time the smile on Davarax' face lingers and some of the weight eases off his shoulders.

-

The very next day, Dulsissia is reminded of what Davarax had told her the previous evening when she spots Dez Vizla sitting by himself, half-hidden behind the house. It is quite rare to find him alone Usually he is with Neleem, his son or surrounded by some of his devoted followers, even occasionally alongside Davarax when Dez can't get away fast enough. It's like fate has arranged it, and who is Dulsissia to argue with fate?

Taking a deep breath, she walks over to where the man is focused on sharpening a vibro blade. “Hello, Dez.”

His gaze flicks up and Dez eyes her with his usual disdain. It's a bit hilarious how he always looks her with cautious wariness like she is some venomous snake that might strike at any moment, especially considering how he could probably snap her in half with just his hands. “Dulcy.” Dez greets her in a drawl. Even his voice is laced with suspicion. If she sneezed right now, he'd probably have a heart attack.

She always assumed he didn't like her because she'd entered the Covert as an Outsider, helped Paz run away, and had the audacity to speak to the glorious Dez Vizla like he was a mere human instead of some kind of deity. However, after what Dav had told her, Dulsissia wonders if he simply stopped trusting people? Maybe, as the cliché goes, it wasn't her, it was him?

“Look at you hiding away.” Dulsissia comments with a warm smile, which only seems to unsettle him even more, and she pushes her luck a little by sitting down next to him. She ignores his deepening scowl with ease. “Are you doing okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Dez replies defensively.

Dulsissia scoots a little closer to him. “No reason. I just like to check up on my friends and I do consider you my friend.”

Dez rolls his eyes. “Don't you start too. Davarax is annoying enough with that shit.” He means to get up and probably flee, but Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and that freezes him in place.

“He means it.” Dulsissia insists with gentle but firm words, and she also ignores how Dez' scowl is now aimed at their hands. “And so do I. You can talk to me, you know?”

That makes him lift his gaze to her face again, but now to stare at her like she's lost her mind and he's worried it might be contagious.

Dulsissia gives his hand a light, encouraging squeeze. “I know; what would you and I talk about, yes?” She almost smiles at the faint rise of his left eyebrow as he drily agrees with her question. “We have a lot in common, you and I.” Dulsissia insists.

The eyebrow draws down into the usual scowl to show his disagreement.

Dulsissia holds his gaze. “I didn't think so either at first, because you are very good at keeping people at a distance and hiding your true self. I lived in the Covert for years, years mind you, and I had no idea who you really were.”

That gets her another eye roll. For a grown man, Dez loves to act like a sullen teenager.

“Paz.” She says, and that gets Dez' attention again at least. “We both love that boy. We'd both lay our lives down for him.” A reluctant nod of agreement or approval, or both, but Dez' eyes remain as cautious and distant as before. Time for the headshot. “And we both married the wrong person when we were young.”

Dez blinks with obvious surprise, clearly not expecting those words, before he manages to regain his neutral face. “What are you talking about?”

“I was seventeen when Macero started courting me and making me fall in love with him. I'm guessing you were pretty young too when you-”

“I didn't marry a karking Imp.” Dez snaps and his entire body radiates tension.

Dulsissia squeezes his hand again, meaning it to be calming, and sighs when he responds by simply yanking himself free with one, sharp move. She hopes her words can reach him instead. “I don't think being an Imp made Macero cruel, it was in his nature by then. A bad person doesn't have to be an Imp to be bad. Paz' mother, she-”

“You don't know anything about her.” Dez cuts her off once again, now visibly angry.

“Dav told me how she treated you and that you-”

“Davarax needs to mind his own business!” Dez shoots in with even more fury. He shifts his weight uneasily, clearly wanting to flee. “She treated me just fine.”

It's the tiniest signals she reads in his body language that tells Dulsissia that Dez is lying. “She didn't, did she? Is that why you insisted on being alone all this time? Because she made you think you were the problem?” Macero certainly made Dulsissia question herself and after she'd fled with Corin, she swore to never marry and become someone else's pawn again. It's why she turned down Davarax' first proposal. “Bad people often make others think they are to blame.”

“She didn't do anything to me. She didn't make me think anything. This is ridiculous.” Dez insists and his entire posture changes. His flight instinct is replaced with fight, just like a cornered animal desperate to fend off its attacker. “And stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm some karking... victim.” Dez spits out the last word with raw contempt. “I'm a Vizla, I'm not some helpless weakling. You can sit on your pathetic offer of pity and twirl on it, and while you're doing that: mind your own damn business!”

Dulsissia knows she's swimming in dangerous waters, his rage is not to be taken lightly when he gets defensive like this, but she can't turn back now. It is adorable that Neleem and Dez thinks she doesn't know that Neleem is pregnant, despite her ravenous appetite, constantly touching her stomach and him being even more protective that usual, but it is the reason why Dulsissia feels a strong urge to help sort out this issue before that child arrives.  “It became my business when you married my friend.”

Dez instantly deflates and that proves once again why Dulsissia continues to have faith in him; Neleem means more to him than his pride and ego. For her, he'll be willing to listen. “She...” The anger is now gone from his voice and leaves it soft and uncharacteristically uncertain. His dark eyes flicker like he can't get himself to actually look at Dulsissia. “She said something? About me?”

Dulsissia wishes Dez would let her hug him because she can see the quiet dread in his gaze. He's been trying, everyone knows that, and now he fears it's not been good enough. Just like Paz' mother had drilled into his head. Just like Corin's father had tried to manipulate Dulsissia. It's so painfully obvious. For all his arrogance, all his big talk, Dez Vizla hides no small amount of fear behind his posturing. He might be the best actor Dulsissia has ever seen. “Only that she loves you.”

For a second, Dez closes his eyes in relief before he straightens and tries to scowl at Dulsissia again.

“Listen to me, Dez.” She says before he can start spouting his Vizla silliness again. “The fact that a bad person abused our trust doesn't mean we're weak. It just means they were a bad person.” She sees a flare of anger rising in his eyes again and hurries to continue. “Just remember that Neleem is not her. You don't have to prove anything to Neleem.”

“I know that...” Dez mumbles, but he's not very convincing.

“Good.” Dulsissia offers him a friendly smile. “Learn from the past, but don't let it haunt you.”

“Did your Imp haunt you?” Dez asks and seems as surprised as her at his question.

Dulsissia shrugs. “Yes. And even now there are days when I can hear his whispers. He spent years convincing me I was nothing but a golden broodmare that would be his ticket into high society. I'm more than that, I know that now, but every time I fail at something I can hear his voice.”

Now Dez' full attention rests on her. “Do you hate him?”

This isn't just about Macero, Dulsissia suspects Dez is gauging what he's 'allowed' to feel about Skade. “Some days I do. When I hear his toxic whispers.” The Macero she fell in love with was so very different from the one she married. “Always, when I think about what he would have done to Corin if we hadn't left.” She shrugs again. “And other days, when I realize how lucky I am to have Corin, a part of me is actually grateful to Macero. I love my son. I wouldn't want a life without my boy.”

Dez lets out a shaky breath and looks away.

“Hey...” Dulsissia dares to reach out and take a hold of his hand again, making Dez look back at her. “Ease up on the silent, tough guy act and let your friends know you and help you, okay? It's difficult to trust again after what we've been through, but it's worth it. You can trust me on that.” She winks at him.

Dez almost smiles a little before he catches himself and gives her a gruff nod instead.

-

Dez:

The blonde witch might be interfering in things that are not her business, her words still won't stop tumbling around inside Dez' head. He might have been able to block out her nonsense if not for the fact that it touches by the unease that has been curled up inside him ever since the pregnancy. What if he doesn't have to feel like this until everything goes wrong again? It's worth a try.

It's easy to find Neleem. She's out with the kids, his clan had brought all of their little troublemakers when they decided to follow him out of the darkness, and she's trying to organize some kind of a school for them. He waits for her to finish and his heart clenches when she notices him and her face lights up with a happy smile. It takes a lot not to smile back at her, he can't do that in front of the other Mandalorians, but he takes her hand when she walks over to him and asks with a silent tug if she'll walk with him for a bit.

Neleem does. She sends him a couple of quizzical glances, must sense that something on his mind, but waits for him to talk and doesn't push. She knows him so well.

Finally they end up standing next to the fence surrounding the sparring area, no one is using it and it gives them a bit of privacy, and Dez takes a deep breath. “I, uh, I need to ask you something. No, that's not... I need you to...”

“I'm listening.” Neleem replies.

Dez hates that he can't seem to find the words. It's so frustrating. “I... I need you to promise me that you'll tell me if I annoy you. Give me a chance to fix it, fix me, before you start hating me?” That sounds so pathetic. She should hate him for sounding so weak.

“Oh, Dez...” Neleem takes his face between her hands, such gentle hands, and makes him look into her eyes. “I promise you that I'll tell you if something is bothering me and I hope you'll do the same, but it's completely natural to get annoyed with each other in a relationship. Everyone gets irritated with their partner.”

Dez frowns. “Not everyone.”

“Yes everyone.” Neleem insists, then takes his hand again. “And I'll prove it to you!” She drags him along and Dez is too surprised to resist. He is further silenced by Neleem finding her first victims as they turn the corner of the house. “Paz. Raga.” The youngsters turn and look at them, halting despite being on the way yo somewhere, clearly curious. “Question: Paz, what's the most irritating thing about Raga?”

Dez expects his son to say 'nothing' and look at his girl friend with devotion. Instead, Paz sends Raga a narrow-eyed glance. “She steals my snacks and never replaces them.”

Neleem nods, as if getting the answer to an advanced science riddle. “And, Raga, what's most annoying about Paz?”

Raga huffs and returns the narrow-eyed glance. “That he's useless before 11 AM.”

“Thank you.” Neleem says, then stalks off again and tugs Dez along. He means to apologize to the kids, dreading they just stirred a hornet's nest between them, but the words never get to leave his lips as Raga and Paz both snicker and pull each other close while trading insults about aforementioned grievances between kisses. Huh.

“Din! Corin!” Neleem shouts, snapping Dez out of his puzzlement and drawing his attention to the other two victims she has honed in on: Din and Corin pause and look at them a small distance away. She drags Dez over to them. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.” Din replies.

“What's most annoying about Corin?” Neleem fires off without mercy.

Din blinks, a little surprised, then he looks over at Corin, a little cautiously, but sees the smug expression on his face and drawls: “Whenever the weather turns hot, he turns into Darth Vader.”

Corin huffs, clearly offended, then turns his attention to Neleem and Dez. “And the most annoying thing about Din is how, despite it being warm enough for the walls to melt, he still insists on cuddling all damn night.”

“Thank you, boys.” Neleem says, turning to face Dez. “See?”

“I see that you just started a fight.” Dez points out.

Neleem glances back at Din and Corin, who are now exchanging stuff they love about each other, and she turns to give Dez a meaningful eyebrow raise.

Dez sighs. “Fine. Okay. But... they're kids. They're allowed to have flaws. They'll outgrow them.”

“They're not toddlers, Dez. And everyone has flaws.” Neleem states with a faint laugh of disbelief.

“Not everyone.” Dez mutters. “Beskar B- I mean, Davarax is Sir Perfect. Him and her, they are disgustingly perfect together.”

Neleem is the one to sigh now and she tugs Dez along again. “Come on. I'll prove to you he's got his flaws as well.”

His hopes of them not finding the duo is shattered when they enter the house and find Dulcy and Davarax in the kitchen. Of course.

“Dulcy, I need to ask you something.” Neleem says while Dez considers throwing himself out the window.

“Ask away.” Dulcyreplies cheerfully and gives this bright, open smile like life has never hurt her.

“What is the most annoying thing about Davarax?”

Davarax, leaning back against the kitchen counter next to Dulcy, is absently chewing on something and he looks over at his wife with mild curiosity on his face. There is none of the raw dread Dez would have felt if someone had asked Neleem to point out his flaws in public.

Dulcy purses her lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, let me think...” She taps a finger to her lips a couple of times before holding it up to make her point. “The thing about Davarax that really pisses me off is him in the mornings.”

That, Dez did not expect. He knows Davarax is not grumpy in the mornings like Paz, so why...?

“When I wake up in the mornings,” Dulcy says, “my hair looks like mess, my eyes are all puffy, I have pillow-wrinkles on my face, but he...” Here she points an accusatory finger at Davarax. “This man here. His hair is this charming chaos, his face is all soft and sweet, his smile is gorgeous and his body is all relaxed and warm, and he looks like he's been at a fashion shoot for underwear models and... it's not fair! No one should look that good in the morning!”

Davarax' smile widens with endless adoration. “Dulcy...”

“It's true and you know it.” Dulcy 'scolds' him with a grin of her own.

“You look beautiful in the mornings.” Davarax says, turning to properly face his wife.

“Not like you.” Dulcy counters, reaching out and placing her hands on his chest.

Neleem's eyes narrows as Davarax leans down to give Dulcy a kiss that is happily welcomed. “Okay, Dez, I'm starting to understand why you get so irritated by them.”

Davarax and Dulcy kiss again, soft and chaste, smiling and staring into each other's eyes.

“Right?” Dez says, eager to finally have someone see what he sees.

But when Davarax wraps an arm around Dulcy, pulling her close, and the kisses start to linger, Neleem shakes her head. She ushers Dez out of the room and out of the house along with her. “That's enough of that.”

“Told you.” Dez has to rub it in with a sing-song tone.

Laughing, Neleem loops her arm with his and shakes her head as they walk. “Shut up. Davarax has his flaws.  He's a good man, among the best, but he is not flawless.”

Dez makes a doubt-filled hum. “I grew up with him. I've seen how everyone worships him. He was the one in the Covert who every soul wanted as their spouse.” He steals a glance over at Neleem. “Tell me the truth; you probably dreamed about someone like him too when you pictured your marriage.”

Neleem lets out a low, soft laugh as she turns to stand in front of him, forcing Dez to stop, and looks up at him with smug satisfaction in her eyes. “He's sweet, sure, but lucky for you...” She takes a hold of his shirtcollar and tugs him down a bit. “I prefer spice.”

That surprises a huff of a smile from Dez, lets him have a moment of intense happiness, of how right it feels to be with Neleem and the fact that their child grows inside her, before cold curls around his heart like barbed wire and his stomach starts to burn. He reaches up and cautiously takes her hands between his. “I know what I am, and most of the time it's not pretty to be around. I got no idea what they told you about my past, but I suspect they made me sound far better than I was. And while I know you won't let me make the same mistakes that I did with Paz, I also don't want to make the same mistakes that I did with... her.” He swallows hard, remembering the look in Skade's eyes when she glared at him during those latter years. “I made her resent me. Everything I did annoyed her. Me being me made her hate the very sight of me. And eventually I just stopped listening to anything she said. I'm trying to change, be better, you know that, but you have to tell me if I'm too... me, and give me a chance to fix it before it's too late. Before you want to leave.” Dez leans down and gently rests his forehead to hers in a soft kov'nyn. “I don't want to lose you.” He even dares to reach down and place light fingertips to her stomach.

“I've told you before; I won't leave. I love you.” Neleem insists softly, placing her hand over his and pressing it slightly tighter to her stomach. “You're a good man and she should never have made you doubt that.”

“I'm not-”

“You are a good man.” Neleem cuts him off, leaving no room for a debate. “I wouldn't have married you if you weren't. I wouldn't be carrying your child if I wasn't sure. Don't let her poisonous words come between us. You can trust me, you know.”

Nodding, Dez can actually feel the cold starting to ease away from his heart and the burning sensation in his gut quietens down. He does trust her. She won't disappear like Skade did. It's not in Neleem's nature. “I know. And I do.”

“Good.” Neleem smiles, then leans up to kiss him. “Then stop acting like a weirdo.”

Dez blinks. “What?”

“You've been acting like touching me would cause boils to erupt all over your body.”

Startled, Dez flinches and almost withdraws his hand but she tightens her grip and won't let him. “I just...” He stutters. “Do...” Curiosity wins over unease. “You want me close? While you're pregnant?”

“Yes, I do!” Neleem laughs, as if it would be obvious. She releases his hand to take his face between her hands instead, locking his gaze with hers. “We took the vows, remember? We're one. This is our child and we're doing this together.”

That surprises another huff of a laugh out of Dez as, for the very first time in his life, the vows suddenly make sense to him. He'd spoken them before but they had turned out to be nothing but pompous sounding and empty words, which in turn was both confusing and depressing. Marriage had not felt much like becoming one, not to him, it had been more like binding yourself to a duel with the same opponent for the rest of your life. He'd thought himself weak for growing tired of the constant fighting because pressure creates gems, right? But this? Dez realizes that 'this' is what those words were supposed to mean. Just like that, things click into place and make sense.

It's really late when Dez finally makes it back to their room after hours of mediating and threatening his fellow Mandalorians into getting along for another day, without a common enemy to unite them they keep bickering with each other, and he's pleased to find Neleem in bed and apparently asleep. Good. She needs her rest. He was worried he'd be forced to beat the everliving daylights out of his kin if they caused her to lose sleep because he was away all the time to deal with them.

Dez removes his armor, gets ready for the night, then walks over to the bed and hesitates. He studies Neleem's peaceful shape for a moment. He remembers a sharp order from the past, but that fades compared to the present. Neleem said she wanted his touch and he's dying to hold her again despite knowing it is weak of him. Dez takes a deep breath, then gets into bed and cautiously moves over to curl up close to Neleem. He slides an arm around her... Swallowing hard, staring into the darkness, Dez waits for what happens next; acceptance or that sharp order from the past.

Neleem lets out a sleepy hum at his proximity, runs her hand up the arm he has around her and braids their fingers. She wiggles closer to his body before settling again with a smile on her face.

Dez closes his eyes, hides his relief against her neck, and the tension finally leaves his body.

-

Days and weeks pass by and when Neleem finally breaks and can't keep the pregnancy a secret any longer, Dez feels as proud and smug as a tipyip rooster when the congratulations start flowing. (Beskar Boy even gets to hug him without a fight.) Paz is the one who is almost as excited about this as Dez himself, Raga is happy on their behalf, while Corin whines that he wants a kid too and causes Din's face to stay flushed for almost an entire hour. Mose stares with stunned surprise when Dez declares he expects him to babysit, Liita is more interested in some upgrades she's working on the jetpacks, and Zev'sonya flees the second Leo states that he adores babies...

As for his fellow Mandalorian, well...

Furyan insists on having a celebratory party, where he shouts out crude but well-meaning praise to the revival of certain parts of Dez' anatomy that Dez would have preferred that the man wasn't so invested in. However, it has Neleem laughing so Dez accepts the words with a slight smile and a raise of his glass.

“Furyan!” Sobek calls from across the room.

“Yah?” The man replies in a half-gurgle, his chugging of pure spirits interrupted by his wife.

“Get your ass to our room and remove your clothes.” Sobek orders. “I've changed my mind. Four kids is not enough.”

That has Furyan eagerly heading for the door with a slightly demented cackle, his three sons groaning with embarrassment and horror, while the rest of the clan are laughing loud enough to wake the dead. Dez is relieved to see that Neleem is also still laughing, he knows his people are loud and a bit too honest at times, occasionally exhausting, but they are also extremely loyal and fun to be around, and it is a relief to see that she gets it. She gets them.

A thought hits Dez and he looks around with a slight frown until he spots her; Raga. She's huddled up in a corner with Paz, ignoring what had just happened with ease and obvious experience, but Dez had just realized that she has not spent more than a few minutes with her family since they had arrived. The frown deepens and he takes an absent gulp from his drink.

This is why the very next day he dares to sit down next to Sobek eating her breakfast amidst the chaos of her sons and husband arguing loud enough to make ears bleed. “Hey.”

Sobek glances over at him and her dark eyes narrow suspiciously. “Whatever whomever messed up, I'm not paying for it.”

Dez shakes his head. “That's not why I'm here.”

“Why are you here?” Sobek half-shouts to be heard through the mayhem behind them.

Leaning closer, not wanting to shout, Dez misses the helmets and the internal comm lines. “It's about Raga.”

“What about her?”

Dez hesitates, suddenly knowing how Beskar Boy feels when he's about to say something that will most likely have Dez punch him. What sucks is that Sobek's punches are a LOT more painful than his. “I, uh... I noticed that you spend a lot of time with Furyan and the boys, but I don't see you hanging out with Raga much.”

Sobek shoves some food into her mouth and frowns confused. “So?”

“So...” Dez clears his throat. “So, maybe you... should? She's your daughter.”

Gesturing to where one son is on the floor, clutching his nose, and where the other two are trying to bring their father down, Sobek raises her eyebrows. “You see this? My husband and my sons? They're idiots. They need me. I have to look after them, keep them alive and out of trouble.” She lowers her hand and starts eating again. “Raga doesn't need me. She's tough, just like her mama.”

Nodding, Dez won't argue with that fact, and yet... “I know. I know that, but...”

“But?” Now Sobek sounds and looks annoyed.

“But does she know that?” Dez forces himself to speak the words despite the intense urge to flee. “Does she know that you're proud of her?”

Sobek definitely looks annoyed now. “Of course she knows.”

Clearing his throat, Dez shrugs one shoulder. “Have you told her?”

“What?”

Unsettled by the glare that follows, Dez looks down. “I assumed Paz knew I was proud of him, what father wouldn't be, but hearing nothing but the corrections I gave him made him think he wasn't good enough.”

“You're starting to sound like Davarax.” Sobek drawls, part amused and part nasty.

Exhaling a laugh, Dez nods again. “I know.” He is not thrilled by this fact, but even Beskar Boy has to be right about a couple of things. Dez peeks up at Sobek's face again. “But wouldn't you have liked to have heard it from your parents...?”

Sobek chews thoughtfully.

-

Raga:

Raga is in the middle of the weekly tormenting of Barthor when the last voice she expects to hear speaks up.

“Raga.”

Surprised, Raga sits up, keeping her knee into Barthor's lower back to pin him in place, to look and make sure, but, yeah, that is indeed her mother standing in the middle of the training arena.

Sobek's armor is gloriously marred by battle and with her arms crossed over her chest there is no mistaking the muscles bulging under the jacket. She is not wearing her helmet, has her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and there is the usual stern expression on her face. (She's the only one who always looks as grumpy as old man Vizla.) “I want to talk to you, ad.”

Sighing, Raga shoves her knee a little harsher into Barthor at the sound of his smug laugh before she reluctantly gets up to face her mother. “I'm listening.”

Sobek nods for Raga to follow her and the two walk over to one of the benches behind the training shed. Once they are seated, Raga waits for her mother to speak so she can get back to pummeling the little cretin who had glued her boots to the floor.

“You did wise in choosing Paz Vizla.” Sobek finally states.

“I know.” Raga replies. “Did you drag me over here just to tell me what I already know?”

Sobek almost smirks. “I'm starting to think I might have, yeah.” She turns to face Raga completely. “Your father and brothers are helpless without me. You're my daughter, you're strong, so I know I don't have to watch over you like I do them. Understand?”

Raga frowns. “Why are you telling me this?”

The almost-smirk turns into a resigned laugh and Sobek shakes her head. “I don't know.” She leans back against the wall behind them and sighs up at the sky. “Because Dez told me to? He told me this tale about how his son didn't know he was proud of him because he never told him, that man has been hanging around with Davarax too much, so he wanted me to tell you what you already know; that I'm damn proud of you, in case you were as thick-headed as his boy.”

Raga tightens her lips into a line as they start to tremble and she has to swallow hard to battle the lump in her throat.

“Well,” Sobek says, getting up, “apologies for wasting your time, ad. I better get back to the others before they accidentally kill each other. See you around.”

“See you around.” Raga whispers, watching her mother march away. She needs a couple of seconds to digest the words and the story behind them. While her parents have never nitpicked at her like old man Vizla did to Paz, she almost wished they would some times as that would have meant they noticed her at least. She's been a ghost in the Saxon quarters for as long as she can remember. So to hear her mother say, out loud, in actual words, that she's proud of her? Not only did she take the time and effort to seek out Raga to talk to her, but say she's damn proud of her?

Raga gets up on her feet, wipes away tears she refuses to acknowledge before stalking towards the shooting range.

Davarax is showing Din some tricks to improve his aim while Corin, Paz and Liita are doing push-ups in front of the scowling Dez Vizla, who hovers over them like a bad omen.

Raga walks over to old man Vizla, takes a hold of the top of his breastplate, ignoring his puzzled look, pulls him down, leans up to place a light kiss on his stubbled cheek, before letting go of his armor and walking away again so he won't see the smile on her face.

Behind her, Raga hears Paz scrambling to his feet and asking his father; “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” Old man Vizla replies, sounding endlessly confused.

“First Drop and now Raga...” Davarax' voice drawls with glee. “It seems like your father is just very kissable, Paz.”

“I will punch you in the face, Davarax.” Dez growls. “And get back down, Paz. You three have ten more to go.”

Raga fights back a laugh. For some reason, she feels lighter than she has in years.

-

Dez:

“Hey you.” Neleem chirps, walking over to greet Dez as he returns from a supply run with Din and Corin.

“Hey.” Dez replies, throwing the bags of vegetables he was carrying into the arms of the already overloaded Din and Corin and he ignores their startled objections. He reaches out to gently trap Neleem's face between his hands instead and steals a kiss.

Neleem hums with pleased satisfaction.

Pulling back a little, Dez looks down at her now prominent belly. “And how is this one doing?”

“Restless. All day.” Neleem admits with a resigned smile. “Practicing to become a top class Mandalorian fighter, would be my guess.”

Dez can't stop himself from smiling any more than he could will his heart to stop. His hand moves, but he pauses before he can actually touch her stomach. “Can I...?” It's still unreal that she allows him to place his hands on her while she's uncomfortable and he doesn't want to mess up and lose that privilege.

“Absolutely.” Neleem takes his hand and places it on her stomach. “Maybe you can persuade them to calm down?”

Dez' grin widens and he's mesmerized by the touch. “I told you; Vizlas are tough.”

Din and Corin walk by them, struggling to carry the bags stacked up in their arms.

Neleem caresses Dez' hand and smiles a little herself. “I can't wait to meet them. Do you want another son or another daughter?”

“Son or daughter, that doesn't matter to me.” Dez replies without hesitation and complete honesty. “I'm just eager to meet them too. It's going to be a long couple of months.” He hesitates before adding; “I always wanted a big family.”

Neleem beams up at him. She's been trying to lure him into talking more about his past so she is very happy the few times he does. “Well, we're getting there. Paz, Raga, Liita, this one, and who knows what the future will bring.”

“I like the sound of that.” Dez murmurs, a little embarrassed over his confession but knows she won't make fun of him for it. She's not Skade. He's aware of that, of course he is, but there are times when his instinct tells him to be careful with his words before his brain is able to remind him that Neleem is indeed very different from Skade.

“I heard Dulcy telling Dav that she is becoming broody at the sight of me.” Neleem informs him with glee.

Dez huffs. “First Sobek and now the blonde witch? Stars above, there's going to be a bunch of little rugrats running around here if they go through with this. We might have an army big enough to challenge Kryze herself, claim the Dark Saber and repopulate Mandalore at this rate.”

Neleem laughs. “The Tribe is growing. This is the Way.”

Outright grinning, still dizzy with delight whenever Neleem quotes anything Mandalorian, Dez lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it. “Remember what I told you when you were trying to drag me to your room to have your way with me that first time?”

Neleem's face flushes a little but she stands her ground. “I remember.” He'd made it clear that anything happening between them would be nothing more than a fling as he would be leaving. And, yet, here they are, married and her shirt straining over her stomach.

“I'm glad things turned out differently.” Dez admits, then blinks and quickly adds; “I mean, I'm not glad the Imps ruined your planet and bombed your school and ruined everything, but-”

“I'm glad things turned out differently too.” Neleem reassures him with a smile. “I told myself not to fall in love, but then you stayed longer and I got to know you more and... my plan went flying out the window.”

Dez lowers their hands to rest on her stomach again. “I'm glad things didn't go according to plan.”

“Me too.” Neleem confesses, feeling his gentle caress calming the restless child. Maybe the Vizlas have a secret power, in addition to predicting pregnancies, to calm babies? “And I have a pretty good feeling about our future as well.”

The weirdest thing is that Dez feels the same. Is he still terrified by the idea of messing up again? Absolutely. In regards to both raising the child and Neleem's opinion of him. However, Dez also feels confident enough in himself and his trust in Neleem that he's willing to face that fear. He can do this. No. They can do this. They are one.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Aliit

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Goodbye

(Because I have no willpower and finally some hours to write, I had to finish Dez’ story arc. Thank you so much @mountevey​ for your kind interest and even kinder words, and thank you so much @phrenic-a​ for listening to me complain about Dez being so difficult and giving such wonderful input!)

-

Dez should have died. It would have been a lot better if he’d died. If he had died, he wouldn’t have had to deal with more mess added to his already messy life.

Neleem is pissed off at him, claiming he kept being sick from her and is not willing to believe his explanation that he didn’t tell her because it was no big deal. Paz looks at him like he’s some kind of monster that could explode at any moment and that boy will never call him buir again. 

Liita is threatening to insert a tracker in Dez’ neck so she can follow him everywhere because he clearly needs a bodyguard as he keeps getting trounced. The other kids act like he’s a homicidal nikto and avoid him like the plague. 

Dulcy has, for some reason, made it her mission in life to make sure Dez eats and she has a plain scary ability to pick up on it the second he gets a headache or feels nauseous and forces him to rest and drink this terrible herbal tea several times a day. And while all of this is bad, Davarax is worse.

He’d threatened Dez with his so-called friendship and he’d clearly meant it. It’s outright pathetic how the man tries to pretend that he doesn’t think he’s far better than Dez and that he wants him around. Too bad for Beskar Boy that Dez is too smart to fall for his charade.

As he is no weakling, Dez Vizla is up on his feet again to participate on the celebration of Paz’ Life Day. He had not been entirely convinced his son even wanted him there, but Liita said Paz did and she wouldn’t lie. It isn’t a comfortable experience, mostly because of his still healing wound but also due to the way the others look at him.

Dez is very comfortable being the centre of attention, usually he is deserving of it, but he viciously resents the concern and something dangerously close to pity he sees in their eyes. He heads back to his room after about thirty minutes. His stomach aches. His jaw hurts from clenching it so hard.

But Davarax follows him into the hallway and has the audacity to ask if something is wrong, acting like a worried parent, which makes red hot anger flare up Dez’ neck. He wants his pity least of all. It’s unbearable!

Throwing a punch, ignoring the pain as the sudden movement pulls at his wound, Dez aims for Davarax’ face and is quite surprised when his fist simply hits Davarax’ palm as he lifts his hand with frightful speed and blocks the attack with hardly any effort..

Davarax’ fingers curl around Dez’ fist and holds it there, all with a resigned and mildly chastising expression on his face. “That one is for free, Dez. Neleem says you do stuff like this because you got impulse issues like Raga and that you too need a little guidance when it comes to controlling yourself. So consider this your warning; try to hit me again and I will punch back. Understood?”

Glaring, Dez tries to tug his hand free but Davarax’ grip is too strong.

“Understood?” Davarax repeats patiently.

Tugging harder, still nothing, Dez seethes with humiliation. “Yes.” He grits out. “Understood.”

Davarax smiles and nods, pleased. “Excellent.” He lets go and gives Dez’ shoulder a light pat instead. “Is the wound giving you trouble?”

Dez lowers his hand, considers going for a second punch but decides against it. Davarax’ guard is up. He’d never land it. “I’m tired.” Dez turns his face away. “Tell Paz happy Life Day from me.” It would mean more to hear it from Davarax anyway.

“I will.” Davarax says, trying to sound like he’s sad about Dez leaving the gathering. “You want him to stop by later? I can ask him to-”

“No.” Dez figures the boy has stuff planned with Raga and his friends. It’s his Life Day, he shouldn’t be forced to deal with the mess of a father he has. Dez turns his back on Davarax and his stupid face and walks away.

Neleem enters the room a few minutes after Dez had kicked off his boots and gotten comfortable on the bed. She frowns, torn between her established irritation and now being worried. “You okay?”

Dez shrugs. His stomach churns. His wound aches. “I’ll live.” He hesitates. “You didn’t have to leave them to check up on me. I just… I couldn’t stay there. Paz jumps if I so much as coughs and Dulcy looks like she’s ready to do CPR on me whether I need it or not.”

Neleem’s lips tug a bit on a melancholy smile. “Yeah…” She walks over and sits down next to him. “Listen, would you mind if we stay for a little while? Maybe a week or two?”

Dez blinks. They were just meant to visit for Paz’ Life Day and then head back home. But clearly his fears about Neleem not being happy in the Covert were not unfounded. Dez feels a cold wave of nausea and it takes no small amount of will power to act unfazed. He even manages a smile of his own. “Sure.” He says. “Of course we can stay longer.”

-

Whenever someone in the Covert had brought a troubled child to him, Davarax figured time, patience and kindness would be the key to find out how to help them. In this case, he has little of the first, a lot of the second and Dez doesn’t respond well to the last. Davarax has no idea if he’s going to be able to undo the damage done to this grown man, but after Neleem told him how Dez had been willing to work on himself with her, he has decided to try.

But stars above, Dez is dead set on not making it easy for him.

“Hey, good morning, you want to grab breakfast and shoot some targets after?” Davarax asks as he pokes his head into the room the next morning.

Staring at him like Davarax has lost his mind, Dez shakes his head with a mix of disbelief and disgust. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Get out of my room.” Dez growls. “Before I use you for target practice.”

Okay, that didn’t work.

Later Davarax tries to approach him when Dez is working on getting the blood out of his armour. “Need a hand with that?”

Dez looks up at him, frowning with obvious confusion. “No. Why would I?” His eyes narrow with growing anger. “You think I don’t know how to clean my own karking armour?”

Davarax lifts his hands in mute surrender and walks away. Okay, that didn’t work either.

“Hey, you wanna-”

“No.”

Maybe a different tactic is needed…

Davarax sees Dez sending quick, pained glances over at his son whenever Paz is around and that gives him an idea. He arranges to have Paz and the others have a little play fighting tournament right outside the house and is pleased to see how that draws the ornery one out to observe.

“He’s a good fighter.” Davarax says, taking up position next to Dez to watch Paz and Din go at it. “You should be proud”

Dez grunts and crosses his arms, keeping his gaze on his son. “I am.”

This seems to work, until Dez interferes by shouting out orders and corrections to the youngsters, encouraging more force and mocking the losers, and the play fighting starts getting a little too intense. Davarax is just about to put an end to it when Raga, always the adrenaline junkie and eager to cross the line, ducks under Din’s half-hearted attack and puts all of her strength into it as she plants her fist deep in Din’s stomach.

The force and unexpectedness of it all has Din folding and grunting with pain. Raga takes a step back and throws both hands in the air with a gleeful cackle.

Dez laughs and applauds.

Davarax clenches his jaw and stalks forward. He gets there just in time as the furious Din gets up on his feet and is about to dive at Raga. Grabbing Din by the back of his shirt and holding him back, Davarax points a finger at Raga. “Ten laps around the property. Now.”

Raga huffs with offence. “What? Why?!”

“That was an actual punch and this is not an actual fight, Raga. You know the rules.” Davarax keeps his gaze steadily locked with hers. “Go.”

She lets out a frustrated hiss but sets off to do her laps. Din tries to follow her, still dead-set on payback, but Davarax yanks him back and then shoves him over at Corin and Paz. “Din, no. This ends here.” After that, he stalks over to Dez, who is glaring at him.

“Punishing your student for winning a fight?” Dez scoffs. “And you call yourself a Mandalorian?”

“They know the rules during training and they know the consequences if they break them.” Davarax will not let Dez turn his kids against each other. He does NOT get to ruin what it has taken years to build. “And as you lit the fuse, I really should make you run those laps with her.”

Dez’ eyes narrow and flash with anger. “I don’t take orders from you.”

When Dez’ fist comes at him, Davarax smacks it aside and delivers a lightning-quick punch of his own. As Dez stumbles back a step and cups his now bleeding nose, Davarax lets out a strained exhale to control his own temper. “I warned you.” He turns towards the nervous gathering of youngsters. “No more fights. We’re done. Separate corners everyone. Understood?”

“Understood.” Their voices echo back.

Davarax feels Dez’ scowl on him and turns back to face him again. “Understood?”

“Understood.” Dez snarls, but the fire in his eyes tells Davarax the fight between them is far from over.

-

“I don’t think I can do it.” Davarax admits that evening, hating to accept defeat but struggling to see any way he can get through to Dez. Not in a couple of weeks. This could take decades. Anything he says, Dez turns it into some kind of insult. Anything he does, Dez turns it into Davarax patronizing him. “I thought I could, but…”

Dulcy hands him his cup before settling on the sofa with her legs curled up under her and her hip against his. It’s a rare quiet moment with just the two of them there. “But?”

“He hates me.” Davarax shakes his head. “Maybe he’s right to. I don’t know. All these years and I never picked up on him struggling. I just thought he was a jerk. I should have done something, instead I just avoided him like a coward.” He gives a faint gesture with his free hand. “And now that I want to help, he won’t let me and I don’t blame him.”

Dulcy leans her forehead to his shoulder and hums. “The fact that you think like this is a big part of why I love you so much, you big lug.” She then kisses his shoulder and straightens to look at Davarax’ face. “You’re completely wrong, obviously, but I love you for thinking that. It just proves that you are a good man.”

“And I love you for trying to make me feel better by saying that. You’re completely wrong, obviously, but I love you for it.” Davarax counters with a faint smile and a soft kiss on her lips.

Dulcy leans in for a second kiss. “I’m never wrong when it comes to you.” She settles next to him again. “And I wasn’t wrong when I said you two need to talk it out. His issues are not your fault, but if you want to help him, you need to get him talking.”

There is a moment of silence before Davarax quietly blurts out something he’d meant to keep a secret. “He was crying.”

“What?” Dulcy sits up, startled, and stares wide eyed at him. “When? Why?”

Squirming, feeling guilty for telling, Davarax clears his throat. “After the fight in the town. He yelled at Paz and I was going to yell at him and… he was crying.” He shakes his head, still struggling to believe what he’d seen was real. “I’ve never seen him cry before. Never. I didn’t even think he was capable of being sad. Anyway, he wouldn’t tell me why he was so upset so I asked Paz about the yelling and he said Dez got angry because he called him buir. Paz thinks Dez found it childish, but I don’t think so.”

“No…” Dulcy mumbles, all pained empathy. “No, that wasn’t anger.” She bites her lower lip and shifts her gaze over in the general direction of Dez and Neleem’s room. “He doesn’t hate you. Neleem told me so. We just need to find some way to crack that cold, unfeeling act of his.”

Davarax sips at his cup. “I’m open for suggestions. After I punched him in the face, I can’t get near him. If I walk into a room, he’s leaving within ten to fifteen seconds. Aside from rolling him up in a blanket like an angry loth cat, I don’t see how I can prevent him from running away.”

“What if…” Dulcy purses her lips a little as she thinks. “What if you suddenly need a little help with some repairs on the shed? We know he’s good at repairing houses and such.”

Frowning, Davarax looks over at her. “How on Mandalore are you going to get him to agree to that?”

Dulcy grins.

-

Dez sits on the bed, uncharacteristically passive, while Neleem gingerly peels off the bacta bandage from his stomach. There are no signs of blood on the white patch and she brushes her fingertips over his skin where there is now only a faint scar.

“How does it feel?” She asks.

Honestly? Good. Dez is more than capable of taking care of his own wounds. He doesn’t need help taking off a bacta patch or a check up on the healing progress, but there is something about her gentle touch that just makes him feel calm and pliant. “It’s fine.” Dez mumbles.

How pathetic is it that he’s hoarding every touch and every smile she’s willing to send his way before he’ll have to go back to the Covert alone?

“That’s good.” Neleem says, sounding pleased and a bit relieved. She then runs her hand through his hair, as if giving him a reward for having a body that heals as it is meant to, and even smiles as a little at Dez catching himself leaning into her touch and the following frown on his face.

“But maybe you should rest a little more.” Neleem adds, her fingers touching his chin. “Just to be safe?”

Dez scoffs. “I don’t need more rest. I feel fine.” He’s no weakling. “The wound is healed.”

Neleem hums. “So you could handle a little… physical strain?”

Instantly intrigued by the tone of her voice and the choice of words, Dez goes from annoyed to alert within a single heart-beat. “Yeah. Definitely.” He is further encouraged by the smile on her lips at his reply. Dez reaches out and takes a light hold of her hip, encouraging Neleem closer. “I wouldn’t mind working up a sweat.”

“Is that so?” Neleem mumbles with a smug grin, indulging him by moving closer. She trails a promising caress along his jawline. “Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to tear up your wound again.”

Dez shakes his head eagerly. “It’s fine. I swear. That bacta took care of it. I’m perfectly capable of some… physical strain.”

“That’s good.” Neleem purrs, leaning down to give him a soft kiss, before she pats his shoulder and straightens back up, all business. “Because Davarax needs help with the roof of that shed and I said I’d ask you to help out if your wound was healed. You are good with roofs, I saw that myself. You will help him won’t you?”

Dez stares at her with utter disbelief.

Neleem smiles back at him.

Dez scowls. “You tricked me.” He has blamed his wound bothering him every time he’s retreated to their room to escape Davarax and now he can’t use that excuse.

“You mean you can’t fix the shed?” Neleem asks, tilting her head in such an innocent manner it screams shameless guilt.

Of course Dez Vizla can fix a damn shed! He just doesn’t want to. Not if Davarax is going to be there. “I can, but-”

“Excellent.” Neleem cuts him off. “Davarax is waiting outside. I’ll tell him you’ll be right out.”

Ten minutes later, a seething Dez finds himself stalking outside, where Davarax is leaning against the wall with arms crossed and appears to be half asleep. “Don’t talk to me.” Dez growls as he marches by him. “I’ll fix the shed, you shut up and stay out of my way.”

Sighing, Davarax follows him without a word.

It doesn’t take much of an inspection of the shed for Dez’ suspicions to be confirmed; Davarax is far from as hopeless with repairs and buildings as Dulcy and Neleem has made him out to be. Of course. Gods forbid the man be bad at something. He’s not as good as Dez, few are, but he’d be perfectly capable of fixing the roof on Neleem’s school and he’s more than able to put together a stupid shed. This reeks of bad plotting.

Dez jumps down from the roof of the shed and lands next to the obediently quiet Davarax. Wiping his hands on his hips, Dez shakes his head. “This is stupid. You don’t need any help with this. I’m going back to my room.”

“Wait.” Davarax blurts out.

“No.” Dez flings out a hand, almost shoving his palm into Davarax’ stupid face. He does not want to hear a single stupid word from his stupid mouth. “Shut up.” But to his surprise, Davarax grabs his wrist and yanks his hand down.

“Stop acting like a bratty man-child.” Davarax snaps. As if Dez is the problem.

Dez blinks. Then he flies at Davarax with every intention of beating him to a bloody pulp.

-

“Get off me!” Dez shouts, lying on his stomach, struggling to free himself and so furious he’s barely able to form words. “GET OFF ME!”

“No.” Davarax grits out, putting all of his weight forward to dig his knees deeper into Dez’ lower back and holds Dez’ right arm twisted behind said back. He sounds pretty angry too, which is probably due to the hits Dez had managed to land on his ribs and his jaw. Good.

Dez draws a deep breath, about to launch into an alphabetical list of physical harm he’s going to do to Davarax if he doesn’t let him go, but that is when the obnoxious man has the audacity to use his other hand to grab Dez’ neck, push his head down, pressing his cheek against the too dry grass, and forces him still.

“Stop trying to punch me, you idiot.” Davarax orders. As if he is allowed to order Dez Vizla around.

“How about I shoot you instead?” Dez spits.

Davarax lets out a frustrated shout that sounds like music to Dez’ ears. “Why?”

Dez snorts in utter disbelief before he bellows out; “You stole my son!”

That brings several long seconds of silence, where neither man move and the words just hover uncomfortably in the air until Davarax is the one to speak first.

“I didn’t steal him, Dez.” His words are quiet and his grip on Dez’ neck softens. “You drove him away.” His fingers move to simply rest on Dez’ skin, like a comforting touch. “And you know that.”

This time when Dez bucks, Davarax shifts off him and slides over to sit next to him while he scrambles up into a sitting position as well. Breathing strained, Dez has to clench his hands to keep himself from punching him again. “I was trying to keep him alive! He was my boy and I wasn’t going to bury him like so many other Mandalorian parents. Not my son. I made him strong.”

“You were pushing him too hard.” Davarax says, in a disgustingly kind tone. “He was a child.”

Dez gets up on his feet, still breathing hard and now also shaking. “In this Galaxy, children die all the time if they aren’t strong enough.” He wipes the back of his hand over his cheek, brushing away imaginary grass. “My father pushed me worse. You remember. I never hurt Paz like that.”

Davarax’ eyes flicker away for a second, as if he’s feeling guilty, then he glances back up at Dez. “I remember.” He clears his throat. “But you were too hard on him. Paz grew up thinking you didn’t love him. That he was a disappointment to you. He needed someone to care.”

Dez’ entire body goes cold. “Why would he think that?” It doesn’t make sense.

“All he ever heard from the infamous Dez Vizla was that he needed to do better. He was never good enough. A kid needs to hear...” Davarax hesitates. “Didn’t your father tell you he loved you?”

“No.” Dez can’t picture Borr saying anything remotely as sentimental as that. He was not the kind of man who loved anything but a good battle. “But I think you’ve been spending too much time with Dulcy. It’s just words. She might love to talk, but we Mandalorians don’t need words.”

Davarax studies him for a moment. “I think we need to get better with them. Both Dulcy and Neleem keeps saying it; words have power. And I agree. They do. Even a simple word like buir.”

Dez feels the word like an elbow to the face and at this moment, he really does hate Davarax. “I should have let that guy shoot you. I won’t make that mistake again.” Stalking away, Dez’ heart is beating so loud and so fast that it basically drowns out Davarax calling out his name.

-

Even after he’s back in the safety of his room, Dez is unable to calm down. He paces the floor and grits his teeth like an agitated barghest. A headache is threatening to settle in and that doesn’t improve his mood further.

Paz thinking he doesn’t love him? How is that possible? HOW? He had been tough on the boy, yeah, but never cruel like Borr was. Dez knows his parenting hasn’t been flawless, but he had never been cruel, dammit! ...Had he?

The door to the room slides open and Dez spins around, ready to draw his blaster and actually shoot at Davarax if the man is stupid enough to follow him in here.

It’s Neleem. And she doesn’t look pleased. Probably regretting ever getting involved with him.

Exhaling, Dez turns away. “He started it.”

“I doubt that.” Neleem mutters and walks over to stand behind him. “Talk to me, Dez. You’ve been wound up from the moment we got to the Covert and ever since we arrived here, you’ve been downright angry. What’s bothering you?”

Talk, talk, talk… What is it with these people and their talking? Dez grunts annoyed. “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.” Neleem insists, placing her hand on his arm. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because it’s pointless.” Dez grits out, staring at the floor. His headache is growing worse.

“Pointless?” Neleem sounds puzzled, as if she doesn’t realize that he already knows that he’ll be going back to the Covert alone. And maybe that’s a good thing? Dez should be alone.

His son had actually believed that Dez didn’t love him, Liita deserves better than to trade her lonely life on the red planet for a lonely life with him, Neleem doesn’t want to live underground while Dez has no choice, and Davarax wins at life, these are just facts. No amount of talk will change that.

“Yeah. Pointless.” Dez confirms He puts on his most arrogant tone. He is a Vizla, he doesn’t need anyone. Not her. Not Paz. No one. It’s better to end it now. “It’s not your problem.”

“How is you acting like a goon not my problem?” Neleem fires back with sharp words.

“Because you are going to leave me too!” Dez shouts in a mess of anger and hurt, and he spins around to face her.

That’s a mistake. A huge mistake. Turning around means seeing the startled surprise on her beautiful face and be reminded of just how much he’d grown to adore that face of hers. Dez could draw every single marking she has on her skin by memory alone. He knows the taste of the skin under her jawline and how she will make this cutest little snort if she breaks into a proper belly-laugh. He knows how soft her lekkus are and how strong her will can be. He knows her calm. He knows his heart will never recover from losing her.

“Dez, I…” Neleem stutters.

Dez closes his eyes. His mother died when he was too young to remember her. His father got a fever and disappeared during a dark night. Cedia went to war and never came back. Pre lost his mind and didn’t come back either. Skade didn’t bother telling him she was going to leave and ended their marriage with a holo-message. Paz, his only child, also disappeared without warning and left behind nothing but a holo-message telling Dez he’d gone with Davarax and Dulcy. Everyone always leave Dez Vizla. In the end, they all leave. Always.

“Dez.” Neleem sounds close to pleading. “Dez, look at me.”

Dez shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m too tired to play games today.” He’s tired of trying and failing all the time. He’s tired of being angry. He’s tired of hurting. He’s tired of trying to watch over his clan and have them fight him every step of the way. He’s tired of craving peace but never being allowed it.

“Dez.” Neleem’s voice is a little stronger, more determined, but now Dez feels, to his horror, that his tightly shut eyes are burning with incoming tears.

No. No way. He will not appear this pathetically weak in front of her. Dez will shoot himself in the head before he’ll let that happen.

But when he moves to turn away, Neleem grabs a hold of his face with both hands and yanks him back, startling his eyes open, and she stares at him with tears of her own while she gives a faint shake of her head.

“I’m not going to leave you, Dez.”

“You can stay here.” Dez whispers, wanting to turn away but can’t make himself break eye contact with her. “You can stay here with Dulcy and Davarax. Help out with the kids. They’ll be thrilled. I’ll just pack my stuff and head back to the Covert. Look after Liita for me?”

“You’re not listening, Dez.” Neleem says, running her thumbs along his cheekbones and smiling a little through her sadness. “You’re stuck with me, buddy.”

She can’t mean that. She can’t. But… Oh, his heart aches.

Wanting to believe but seeing no reason why she’d want to put up with more of his shitty behaviour, Dez leans forward and cautiously seeks her lips with his. Her soft warmth is endlessly sweet and feels so very soothing and so he lets the one gentle kiss turn into two and soon three.

The anger and dread goes away when Neleem leans against him and his arms goes around her. It ignites some kind of hopeless, fragile need for more. he needs to get closer. As close as he can get.

And to his soul-crushing relief; she welcomes him.

-

Neleem pushes her head back into the pillow and tries to breathe as her eyes flutter close while Dez’ mouth works its way down her throat. Her entire body feels like liquid fire. A heavy, drugging heat, different from the kind of heedless heat they usually experience during intimate moments like these.

There is no rush, this is slow, unhurried and lingering. Carnal pleasure seems almost like an afterthought to him as he barely moves on top of her, there is only the occasional roll of his hips that has him let out a trembling sigh and her muscles quake with longing, as Dez is entirely focused on covering her skin with soft kisses and caresses to an almost obsessive degree. 

He spends a small eternity just mapping his way from her left shoulder to her right. He mouths at her shoulders, measures the roundness of her hips in his palms, nuzzles her neck and kisses her forehead before placing his own against it. He barely allows air between them.

There is so much affection in the softness of his lips and his touch, it brings tears back to her eyes.

Neleem had once overheard a couple of human girls talk about ‘making love’ and once she’d discovered what the term meant, she found it a bit hilarious and overly romanticized. Now, Neleem realizes, ‘this’ is what they meant. She never knew it could be like this. She had no idea.

Dez’ fingers braid with hers and he gives them a light squeeze as he slides his lips up her throat until he reaches her chin and she stops pushing into the pillow to lower her face and meet him a warm kiss. He doesn’t deepen it, just savours the push and give of their lips together, how they match to perfection, how every sensitive nerve between them is glowing with soft delight.

He has to release one of her hands when Dez decides he has to trail fingertips along her jawline, constantly planting soft little kisses on her lips, and Neleem absently runs her free hand down his back. The soft warmth of his skin makes every single one of his many scars seem like a crime. She wants to wrap herself around him and never let anyone hurt him again.

She lifts her hand to slide it up his neck and into that glorious mess of curls, pushing him into a couple of firmer kisses before leaning back into the pillow again and making him open his eyes to look into hers. He looks dazed, a bit drunk like her, but also still a little tense, as if he can’t quite trust that she doesn’t want their relationship to end. He looks like he thinks he’s on borrowed time.

Running her hand through his hair a couple of times, a soothing touch, she then cups the side of his face and states the obvious; “I love you.” This beautiful, stubborn, difficult, damaged and surprisingly kind human.

Dez stares like she’d just stabbed him. He’s gone completely still. He’s barely breathing.

Neleem lets him process the words while she is the one to explore his facial features with her fingertips.

“Say it again.” Dez says after a long silence.

Smiling a little, Neleem has no trouble obliging. She cups the side of his face again. “I love you.”

Being so close, she can feel the shudder running through his body.

“Again.” Dez whispers.

Now outright grinning, Neleem obliges once more. “I love you.”

Exhaling, Dez ducks down to plant a kiss between her neck and shoulder. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His arms go around her and he squeezes her tight, as if he never wants to let her go. “Again.”

He sounds like he’s in pain. Neleem’s heart aches. “I love you.”

He moves up to kiss her lips with a taste of being lost. “Again.” Dez pleads against her mouth.

Neleem doesn’t hesitate. “I love you.” She says and feels his hand trail fingers by her temple. “I love you, Dez.”

Breathing something in what she can only guess is Mando’a and can’t understand, Dez kisses her again. Her mouth, her neck, her lekku, her hand, he can’t stop kissing her. And he keeps asking; “Say it again?”

Eventually he doesn’t even need to ask, Neleem continues to repeat the words. She runs her hands over his skin, draws her fingers through his hair, moves under him until he can’t resist and it all becomes a sweaty haze of raw emotion and growing need. “I love you.” Neleem breathes, eyes closed and fingers digging into his skin as he clings to her. “I love you.”

-

The silence in the room is almost deafening after the chaos that had been screaming in his head not too long ago. Dez is half-sitting in bed, propped up by pillows, and has his arm around Neleem, who is curled up against him, resting her head on his stomach and brushing light caresses on his hip with her thumb.

She loves him.

Her voice is still echoing in his head. Those words… Dangerous words. Addictive words. No one has ever told him they love him before. Not in actual words. 

He’d come to accept that he wasn’t a person others loved. He thought Skade did, he was young and naive then, but she didn’t. No one did. No one but his son. Until he lost him, that is. Wasn’t that proof that Dez Vizla was unlovable?

‘I love you’.

Words have power, Neleem had said that once. And now Beskar Boy too. Dez has always been told words are for weaklings. Vizlas act, they don’t talk.

Leaning back, thumping his head lightly against the headboard, once, twice, Dez exhales. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to be better, but he keeps messing up. His stomach starts to burn and ache, bringing a wave of nausea too.

“You okay?” Neleem asks, looking up at him.

Dez meets her gaze and her words flutter through his brain. It makes his heart do a weird flip in his chest. He wants to hear her say those words again. He wants to die for her. “I love you too.”

Neleem’s beautiful face lights up and she leans up to give him a soft kiss.

Once again the tension and unease fades away when she’s close and when she returns to resting against him, Dez leans back again and with a clear mind, thinks about his future.

He can’t have everything he wants. That’s just not possible. He’s going to have to choose.

The very next day, Dez Vizla decides to first do the thing he least wants to do. It takes all of his will-power and he fears he might regret it, but he forces himself to do it anyway.

“I…” Dez has to try again. “I’m sorry. About yesterday.”

Davarax is half-hidden behind the shed, working on something there, and stares at Dez like he has grown a second head over night. There is an almost impressive bruise blooming on his jaw. “What?”

“I said,” Dez says, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

There is a moment of hesitation and then Davarax steps forward to fully face him. “That’s...what I thought you said.” He looks like he can’t decide whether to be scared or curious. “What’s going on?”

Dez shrugs, looks away and then rolls his shoulder a little awkwardly. “I’m apologizing, you idiot.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Davarax replies, snorting a laugh. “I thought you said apologies were pointless?”

He should have known Davarax wouldn’t make this easy for him. That man always has to rub Dez’ nose into everything unpleasant. “Forget it.” Dez growls and turns to leave.

“Wait.” Davarax runs over and gets in his way, preventing him from leaving. “Wait-wait-wait.”

Dez sighs and settles to wait for whatever he wants to say.

“Nice to hear you’re the one sighing for once.” Davarax grins, as if his words make any sense. Then he reaches out a hand. “Apology accepted, vod.”

It can’t be this easy. It can’t. Still, Dez sees little choice but to take his hands and shake it. He only realizes he’s entered a trap when Davarax doesn’t let go. And the grin on his face is pure evil.

“I told you we were going to become friends, didn’t I?” Davarax says with utter glee.

Dez glares. “I said nothing about becoming friends.” He tries to tug his hand free. “Let go.”

In all fairness, Davarax does let go, but only after he’s yanked Dez forward and engulfs him in an embrace instead.

Dez snarls and starts squirming and pushing at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me, you-”

“I’m sorry too.” Davarax whispers.

Dez freezes. What does he have to be sorry for?

“I didn’t realize those injuries came from your father.” Davarax confesses. “I didn’t realize Pre was making your life miserable too. And I failed entirely to see how much you needed a friend.”

Dez swallows. His stomach rolls uneasily. “Calm your saviour complex. I outlived my father and Pre both, didn’t I? A-and it wasn’t like I didn’t have any friends, you weirdo.” So what if they were Vizlas and obliged to be on good terms with him? “Besides, that was ages ago. I don’t even think about it any more. You shouldn’t either.”

Davarax’ embrace tightens a bit and Dez is about to start fighting anew to be released when the man speaks again.

“If it’s okay,” Davarax’ voice is low, strangely uncertain, “I’d like to help you reconnect with Paz.”

-I don’t need you karking help! Dez’ pride sneers. But the sad fact is, even with Liita and Neleem to help him, Dez still manages to mess things up. He has to face that he needs all the help he can get. Why not let Beskar Boy do some good for him for once. Dez clears his throat. “That would be… Yeah… Thanks.” The things he will do, the depths he will sink to, for his son.

Bizarrely enough, this makes Davarax do that weird laughter-huff of his and he really curls around him in an engulfing hug, like Dez is his best friend that he hasn’t seen in years. It’s warm, comforting and kind of… nice.

Dez nearly rolls his eyes, of course even Davarax’ hugs are as ‘perfect’ as the man himself, but he can’t quite get himself to break free. It’s too tempting to give in. Maybe just a little. Dez can count on one hand the hugs he’s gotten in his life, not including the ones Paz had happily handed out during his youngest years. Besides, it’s not like anyone will know. So Dez relaxes a little and lifts a hand to put it on Davarax’ back.

“Do you two need some privacy, or…?”

Dez’ gaze snaps over and sees Raga watching them with her arms crossed and a huge grin on her face. Behind her, Paz is all slack-jawed disbelief.

Instantly shoving and cursing at Davarax, Dez frees himself and flees towards the house.

-

“You call that welding?” Liita scoffs. The sun is setting but neither are willing to stop working.

“There is nothing wrong with my welding.” Dez replies with calm confidence. The bratty girl is never satisfied with any welding she doesn’t do herself, but this is his ship, dank farrik, and if he wants to work on it as well, he can. He is currently fusing two outer panels by the ship’s nose, which is important work that needed to be done and not him hiding from Davarax at all, and Liita will just have to deal.

“It’s cold.” Liita complains.

“I told you to bring a jacket.” Dez reminds her, focused on his welding.

“How was I supposed to know you were right?” Liita huffs. “Most of the things you say are wrong.”

Dez sends her a sour glare. “I’m almost always right. And if you had listened to me, you wouldn’t be freezing right now, would you? You’ve only got yourself to blame, kid.”

“You got this one thing right. Let’s not have it go to your head.” Liita mutters, stepping in front of him. “I’m cold!”

Dez turns his attention back to the welding. “So what do you want me to do about it? Summon a sun? I’m flattered that you think I have such abilities, but I’m just a humble Mandalorian.”

Liita rolls her eyes with a frustrated huff and promptly tugs the zipper on his jacket halfway down. She then, with complete lack of the expected fear and awe one should have for Dez Vizla, ducks down, wiggles her way up under his jacket and eventually ends up standing with her back to his stomach and her sullen face poking out from his jacket to continue observing his work.

“You seriously don’t know how to weld a friction seam.” Liita mutters.

Dez carries on welding. “Shut up. My welding is fine.”

Liita does not shut up. She keeps nitpicking. And he keeps giving her orders she bluntly ignores.

It’s the nicest and most relaxing evening Dez has had in a long while.

“Dez.” Davarax’ voice shatters Dez’ tranquillity.

Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, Dez needs a moment before he turns off the welder and prepares to face Beskar Boy again. He turns and a sour comment dies on his lips when he sees Davarax is not alone.

Paz is standing next to him.

“Paz.” Dez says, stupidly, and feels a flare of anger at himself for sounding so stupid, especially as his son responds with a faint nod and a puzzled look.

Luckily stupid is what Davarax does best and he does that stupid laughter-huff of his and beams with badly hidden amusement. “Hi, Liita.”

“Hey.” She grumps from where she’s peering out of Dez’ jacket.

Oh.

Grinning, clearly finding the scene hilarious, Davarax nods in Paz’ direction. “Mind if we borrow Dez for a bit? Paz needs a word with him.”

Liita sighs, then ducks down and wiggles out of Dez’ jacket to wander forward to face Davarax. She looks up at him with a stern look. “Okay, let’s go back to the house.”

Davarax hesitates, glancing briefly over at Paz. “I, uh… I was thinking maybe I should… stay?”

Of course. Dez feels a spark of anger in his gut and his shoulders tenses up. He gets why, he’s messed up so many times that he should probably be happy that Beskar Boy can supervise, but...

“No.” Liita reaches out, puts her hands against Davarax’ stomach and forces him to start backing up. “Dez got this. Let’s go.”

The anger is knocked right out of Dez at her words. That girl...

Still backing up, Davarax looks over at Paz again, sees him nod and nods back before he shifts to walk next to Liita instead of being pushed along.

“I’m cold.” Liita declares. “Give me your jacket.”

Davarax gives her his jacket. (Of course he does.)

There is an awkward silence after Liita and Davarax’ departure but eventually Dez puts the cooling machine on the ground, no more welding tonight, and he brushes his hands together in what he’d die before admitting is a nervous move. “So, uh… What did Davarax tell you?”

Paz doesn’t look as scared as before, but his walls are up and he’s eyeing Dez cautiously. “He said… you wanted to apologize for yelling on the ship. That you weren’t mad at me.”

Dez shifts his weight and clears his throat. “I… I’m guessing you’re getting really tired of hearing me apologizing after messing up all the time, huh?”

Paz looks down at the ground and doesn’t reply. He clearly doesn’t know what to say. Either he really is sick of Dez’ apologies or he’s worried what will happen if he admits Dez had messed up.

Dez takes a step closer to his son, reaching out and almost touching his arm before catching himself and lowering his hand again. “Listen, on the ship, that was me being stupid again. Not you. Never you.” Words have power, he reminds himself. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

Paz’ gaze snaps up to meet his. He looks shocked, so clearly this is news to him.

Dez’ stomach churns and pained guilt floods his veins. “I am. I’ve always been.” He tries to smile and fails. “Remember I told you that your mother made me happy by giving me you? You’ve always been the one good thing in my life. Possibly the only good thing in my life.”

Paz draws a shivering breath and despite the years that have gone by, he suddenly looks like the lost little boy Dez remembers.

“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you.” Dez whispers with pained intensity. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t excuse me in any way, but I thought it was the best way to make you strong, to keep you alive in a Galaxy that kills everything it can. I was wrong. I should have told you, I should have explained, I should have… done better. I was cruel to you. I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to say I know I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

Paz swallows hard and looks away. “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Dez reassures him, and now his stomach aches so much it feels like he’s been stabbed all over again. He walks away, heading back to the house, aiming to give Paz some space and prevent himself from embarrassing himself even more.

“Can I…” Paz’ voice calls out after him. “Can I still call you buir?”

Freezing in his tracks, Dez blinks frantically to clear his eyes off the karking burning sensation again(!) before he can look back at his son. He actually manages to smile this time, feels light-headed with relief. “It would be an honour to me if you did.”

Paz exhales and smiles as well, and in three long strides he’s over by his father and folds into his embrace.

Hugging him tight, Dez doesn’t care that Paz is taller than him by now, every bit as muscular as himself if not more, he’ll always be his baby boy.

He’s not Dez. He’s not Pre. He’s not Borr or Tor or any other Vizla. He’s Paz and he’s perfect.

-

The mood in the house seems to change after that. It’s like everyone dares to relax, to laugh and go about their business without keeping a cautious eye on Dez. Paz even seeks him out for company and with him comes Raga, who is just an utter delight with her strength and rebellious nature. The Saxons are all amazing. Dez has always found the Saxons great fun to be around.

Then there is Corin, who has always been friendly, but now he starts asking Dez endless odd questions and stares non-stop at him when he thinks Dez won’t notice. He looks more at Dez than his own boyfriend. It’s awkward until Dulcy reluctantly tells Dez of the monster that was Corin’s biological father and Dez tenses up when he hears about a temper similar to his own, but it certainly explains why Corin is mesmerized; Macero Valentis would rather have died than apologize to his son or changed a single thing about his own behaviour. It’s weak of Dez, but after that he answers his every question and lets him stare.

Two who still do not approve of Dez are Din and Zev’sonya. Din shows Dez wary suspicion and she gives him rude indifference. But they are kids and are not worthy of Dez’ time, so he more or less ignores them.

The one who surprises Dez is Mose. Again. He hasn’t spent much time with him before, but once Dez does, he discovers that the Hutt is certainly nothing like he thought he’d be. He hasn’t forgotten that Mose saved Paz’ life during the Imp attack, putting him on his good side, but discovering that the Hutt is first in line to look after Davarax and Dulcy’s girl is most unexpected.

“I would have thought you’d be more interested in eating her.” Dez comments with a wry smile as he watches Mose wipe Nemi’s messy hands clean with a rag. “Hutts don’t babysit kids.”

“Know many Hutts, do you?” Mose mumbles with a touch of defiance.

Raising his eyebrows, Dez snorts a laugh. “You got me there.” He tilts his head and studies the gentle movements as Mose cleans the girl’s tiny hands with his huge ones. “But I think you’re a bit different from the rest, aren’t you?”

Mose frowns just a little. “So? It’s not wrong. Just because everyone expect you to be something, it doesn’t mean you have to become it.”

That brings another laugh from Dez. All of his worries and heavy thoughts haunting him day and night, and a Hutt puts things into the simplest way possible and gives him the answer he’s been searching for. “Mose,” Dez moves over and pats his shoulder, “don’t change, my friend. You’re more honourable and more clever than most humans I’ve met.” He can feel the stunned Hutt watching him as he walks away.

That evening, Dulcy has put together a feast, clearly influenced by the lighter mood in the house and eager to gather even more smiles. Dez doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s silly to put so much effort into something that isn’t a big deal, but he’s happy to join in and devour good food. It’s almost worth having to sit next to Davarax and listen to his voice. He even allows Davarax’ hand to linger on his shoulder while he goes on about some project he wants Dez’ opinion on.

Suddenly a shadow falls over them and he looks up to see Dulcy hovering in front of the table, biting her lower lip and radiating delight.

“What?” Dez asks through a mouthful, wary of this scheming mastermind.

“I’m just…” Dulcy gestures towards them. “I mean, Dav has me and the kids and it’s all good, but… he must have missed having a grown Mandalorian friend to hang out with.”

Dez blinks. Then he reaches up to gingerly peel Davarax’ hand off his shoulder. “No. No-no-no. No, we?” A quick pointing back and forth between him and Davarax. “We are not friends.”

Davarax grins. His arm goes around Dez’ shoulders and he yanks him close to squeeze him tight. “We are best friends.”

“Let go of me, you clown.” Dez snarls, trying to break free and failing. The man is freakishly strong. And why are his arms so long. He’s like a squid. A freakishly strong squid. “Let go!”

“No way, buddy.”

“LET GO!”

Dulcy giggles

Neleem giggles.

Pas and the others merely stare with disbelief.

-

It’s late, usually Dez is asleep at this hour, when they crawl into bed and Neleem wiggles close to him with a happy sigh. She pets his stomach with a cheerful hum. “How is this doing?”

“Growing, due to the rate I’m fed here and how lazy I’m getting.” Dez replies. It’s probably true.

Neleem snorts. “Relax, Vizla, you are just as slim and buff as always. And I’m being serious. Don’t make me get the medical scanner.”

Groaning, Dez flips her over on her side and slides close to her back, wrapping an arm tight around her waist to hold her there and to prevent her from getting the scanner. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just a gut ache. It’s no big deal.” He can feel her draw a sharp breath to object and cuts her off. “I feel better than I have in ages, cyar’ika. Relax.”

“I’d relax if you’d let me scan you.” Neleem declares, squirming and pushing at his arm to free herself. “I swear, Dez, if you’re feeling worse and hiding it from me, I will-”

“I’m not hiding anything from you. I give you my word.” Dez has to give up holding her in place, she is determined to free herself, and flops over on his back again as she turns and crawls halfway on top of him, glaring. “For the love of… it’s just a gut ache.”

“That ‘gut ache’?” Neleem jabs a finger in his stomach, making him flinch and grunt. “It could actually kill you. Do you understand? It will continue to make you sick, poison you from the inside and then, in agonizing pain, you will die.”

Dez smiles, just a tiny smile, a smile far softer than most that grace his face, and he shakes his head while reaching out to trail a gentle finger down one of her lekkus. “I’m not going to die.” He moves his touch to her lips. “Why would I die when I finally have reasons to stay alive?”

“I need you to take this seriously.” Neleem’s voice tremble. “Please. If you keep going like this, it will kill you.”

Maybe Dez should find it insulting that she seems to think him weak, that she thinks she can order him around, but he doesn’t. She’s worried. And all he cares about right now is easing her worries.

Dez tells her his plans.

Neleem’s face is a mixture of cautious hope and, surprisingly, a little regret. “Are you sure…?”

“I am.” Thanks to Mose. “I’ve been thinking about it for a very, very long time. I’m sure.”

The next day he tells the others when they are gathered for breakfast in the kitchen. Paz looks like he’s about to faint, Dulcy gets so startled that she has to sit down and Davarax so shocked that he has to stand up.

Dez feels Neleem, sitting next to him, finding his hand under the table and squeezing it. He is a little puzzled as to why she does it, but it’s appreciated nonetheless. She seems more nervous about his decision than he is. Truth be told, he’s just ready to get it over with. “I’ll travel back to the Covert today.”

“You are really going to go back like… that?” Paz asks.

Dez nods. He’s not wearing his helmet or his armour. He’s dressed like any other traveller.

“I’ll come with you.” Davarax says, adding more shock to the situation.

Not expecting that, Dez frowns. “They may not let you in.”

“They will if you tell them to.” Davarax says, trying to smile and not entirely succeeding. A sore point, then. Beskar Boy, always the popular one, it must hurt for him to know he’s not welcome.

“I’ll be an outcast too the second they see me. Why do you think they’ll listen to anything I say?” Dez mutters.

“Because they like me,” Davarax replies, “but they respect you.”

They respect Davarax fine. They always have. But there is the chance that his defeat and absence these years may have weakened his grip on their hearts and minds. Still Dez isn’t keen on the idea. “Why would you want to come with me?”

“If your grand plan of bringing as many as possible out from underground is to work, well…” Now Davarax manages to smile and his eyes glitter with amusement. “They respect you, as I said, but they really like me.”

“You’ll be going against your sister.”

“No. I’ll just be helping to move out the ones who are already unhappy and giving her trouble.”

“I’ll come too.” Paz declares in a rush.

“Me as well.” Raga shoots in.

“And me!” Corin blurts out. Din glares at him.

Dulcy waves her hand and quiets them all. She then exhales a long breath before she focuses on the stunned Dez. “It certainly looks like you won’t be going alone, Dez Vizla.”

-

All his life, Dez has been reminded of the fact that he is a Vizla. All his life he was expected to be the strongest, the fiercest and an undisputed leader, and all of his life he’s tried to live up to that. He raised his son to think like that too. The Vizla blood runs thick in their veins.

- Just because everyone expect you to be something, it doesn’t mean you have to become it.

Everyone expected him to lead the clan after Pre died and it had never occurred to Dez to say no. After that, every soul in the clan brought their problems to Dez and it never occurred to him not to care. They were his people and his responsibility.

When the ship lands outside the Covert, Dez feels the first jab of nerves. He has decided and he’s not going to change his mind, but he’s bound to disappoint a lot of his followers with his decision to take off his helmet and leave and Dez hates that. They’ve all been so loyal to him.

Dez steps off the ship, leaving Liita in the cockpit, and he is followed by Davarax, Neleem and Paz. Raga, Corin and Din are ordered to wait in the cargo hold until their return.

As expected, two Mandalorians step forward to defend it when they approach the secret door.

“Step aside.” Dez orders.

The guards jolt with startled surprise as they recognize his voice, they probably scan him to confirm his identity, and Dez feels a flicker of irritation when they numbly step aside to let him in.

So much for security.

But Dez has barely stepped through the door before the guards move to block the entrance again and prevent the others from joining him. Davarax and Paz are both wearing their armour, sans helmet, but they are clearly not welcome any more. Neither is Neleem, who is a plain Outsider now.

“Let them through.” Dez says in his firmest voice. For half a nerve-wrecking second, he wonders if this is pushing it too far and will have the guards turn on him as well, but then, to his surprise, they step aside and let the others through.

“See?” Davarax whispers. “I told you.”

“Shut up.” Dez mutters back.

However, the guards must have used their comm links as there is someone waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

Dez exhales with relief. It’s Sungodt. His second in command and leader when Dez is not around.

“Dez?” Sungodt says, sounding like he doesn’t want to believe it is true.

“It’s me.” Dez confirms.

“Why?” Sungodt asks. “What happened? How could this happen?”

“Nothing happened.” Dez replies. “I happened. It was my choice.”

Sungodt hesitates. “But… “

“I’m sick of being stuck underground, hiding like a coward. And despite our best efforts; nothing has changed since we left Concordia. It’s time to break free, Sungodt. I want to talk to our people and offer them to join me. We can start over and make our own Covert above ground.”

Sungodt stares at him. “You want to break up this Covert? She won’t allow that.”

Davarax smirks. “I don’t think she’ll mind. She has never kept anyone here against their will.”

“I will talk to her first. Explain. Then I’ll meet with our clan.” Dez declares.

Sungodt hesitates. “They will follow you, you know.”

“I hope so.” Dez admits. Then he pulls his shoulders back and nods. “Okay, let’s go see her.”

It’s time to finally get his people out of the darkness.

Sungodt leads the way, Dez follows, behind him Neleem takes Paz’ hand and offers the nervous youth her support, and then finally Davarax, who keeps their backs safe. They march towards the new forge, ignoring the puzzled looks from fellow Mandalorians, and only have to wait a couple of seconds as Sungodt enters the room and informs their leader of the visitors before he appears in the doorway and nods.

Dez walks inside, hears the footsteps of the others following him, but most of all; feels the weight of the gaze behind that golden helmet. Fire is reflecting in the shiny metal.

She’s watching him, a silent figure behind her work bench, as ominous and omniscient as always. It’s one of the many things Dez has always liked about her.

“I have decided to leave this Covert.” Dez says, as if him not wearing his helmet or his armour isn’t screaming that already. “And I’ve come to ask my clan to leave with me.”

Sungodt raises his blaster and shoots Dez three times in the chest. “Traitor.”

As Dez is flung backwards, Davarax and the golden leader draw their blasters at the same time and fires four lethal shots each at Sungodt.

“DEZ!” Neleem screams as she rushes forward. Paz shouts; “NO!” and bursts forward as well.

Seconds later, Dez lies on the floor, muscles twitching and his mouth spitting blood, while Davarax kneeling by him and yanking Dez’ jacket open to get to his wounds. Paz is frantically bellowing at someone to bring him an emergency kit.

Tears flowing, Neleem touches Dez’ face with trembling fingers. “Stay with me, Dez. You have to stay with me.”

Dez almost smiles, despite the pain and being unable to breathe. She cares. Paz cares. Even Beskar Boy cares. They actually care.

Someone will mourn him. Nobody mourned Borr or Pre.

Dez Vizla was loved.

-

-Stay with me. She had pled. Neleem had been desperate and helpless as she watched Dez fade, bleeding out in front of her, but she kept pleading. -Stay with me. Please, stay with me. Dez, please.

Words have power, but they can’t heal three shots to the chest. There was nothing she could do but plead and cry while Davarax and Paz tried to stop the bleeding.

Sitting on the porch in front of the house, her feet resting on one of the lower steps of the stairs, Neleem stares emptily ahead at nothing. The neighbourhood is unusually quiet.

Stepping down on the top step of the stairway, Dez slowly eases himself down to sit next to her with a pained grunt escaping his lips. Three days and his torso still hurts. The bacta is speeding up the healing process, like usual, but this time the injuries were far more severe and not even Dez Vizla can ignore his body’s complaints if he tries to move around too much. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

Neleem huffs a laugh. “Asks the guy who got shot. Three times.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. It happens.” Dez says, but when he gets no response, he slides his arm around Neleem’s shoulders and pulls her close. “Hey. I told you; I’ve got no plans on dying now that I finally have reasons to stay alive. No insignificant fool like Sungodt can kill Dez Vizla.”

The betrayal hurt almost as much as the shots, yet he understands why Sungodt did what he did.

Also, a part of Dez wonders if this could be justice catching up and making him pay for all the hurt and misery he’d caused in the past. He’s in pain, but he’s not angry. It feels right.

“But you’re going to go back to the Covert, aren’t you?” Neleem says, finally glancing over at him. “They might actually succeed in killing you next time.”

Dez sighs. “I can’t just leave them there. I agreed to be their leader and they trust me.” He tries a faint smile. “But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere for a while yet. I feel like crap.”

Neleem nods, still too serious for his liking, and she reaches out a hand to touch his chest where one of the bacta patches hide under his shirt. The incident had startled her badly.

And she’s not the only one still shell-shocked from what had happened.

Davarax has decided it was his fault for not spotting the danger and reacting fast enough to prevent Sungodt from attacking. Paz, the silly boy, claims that, no, it was his fault and that he had failed his father. Raga claims it never would have happened if she had been allowed to go with them.

Dulcy has turned into a complete tip-yip and monitors Dez’ progress with scary intensity. Corin has come by every day to deliver a gift and make sure he’s doing okay, and Din even joined him once to mumble wishes for a quick recovery.

The cutest visit to his sickbed was Mose and Nemi, while the scariest was Barthor just hovering by his bed and staring at him. The thin wire around Dez’ left wrist is evidence that Liita went partway through with her promise and he is now tagged with her tracking device.

Yeah, they all need a break. Dez included.

In the past, he would have thought of this as a show of weakness, but not any more. He sees a lot of things differently these days. (Davarax is still a pain, obnoxiously perfect and a magnet for the love of everyone within ten parsecs, but… he is tolerable if you just manage to disregard that. And don’t get close enough for him to get a hold and start hugging you.)

“Let’s go inside.” Dez mumbles, his lips against Neleem’s temple. “It’s late. You need to rest.”

“Again, coming from the man who was shot three times in the chest.” Neleem mumbles, irrationally stuck on that minor detail.

“Come rest with me then.” Dez drawls with a teasing grin and that finally lures a smile from her.

Neleem shakes her head with an amused expression. “Fine. I guess that is the only way I’ll know you’re actually resting and not up to something stupid.”

“I’m Dez Vizla. Nothing I do is stupid.” Dez grins, kissing her temple.

“You nearly died twice in less than two weeks.” Liita states, appearing from the house and walking over to sit down and burrow in under Dez’ free arm to settle next to him. “That’s pretty stupid in my book. That’s why I’ve tagged your signal in my tracker as ‘Stupidhead’.”

Dez grunts and tightens his grip, squeezing Liita against his side to savour her annoyed sputterings. “If you want me to adopt you, you’re going to have to start being nice to me.”

Liita squirms and shoves at him until he makes a pained sound and they both settle. “I never said you had to adopt me.” She scoffs. Then, after a moment of hesitation, the girl sends him a cautious look. “Why? Are you saying… you want to?”

Neleem rests her head on Dez’ shoulder and gives his arm an encouraging caress.

“If that would be okay with you, Liita.” Dez replies.

“I’ll think about it.” Liita mumbles and turns her face away, but not fast enough so Dez and Neleem can’t see the bright smile she’s desperately fighting against.

“You do that.” Dez says. “In the meanwhile, how about you two help a poor Mando to his feet?”

Neleem and Liita both eagerly help Dez get up, which he could have easily managed on his own but knows how satisfying it is to them when they get to be the strong ones, and the three of them start walking towards the door.

The door slides open and Paz freezes after a single step through it. He sees Neleem and Liita under each of Dez’ arms, appearing to be supporting him and helping him walk. Paz goes deathly pale. “Buir? Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Dez shakes his head with a faint smile. “Nothing to worry about, son.”

Paz takes another step forward and is clearly not reassured. “I can help.”

Gingerly lifting his arms to free Liita and Neleem, Dez is then the one to take a step forward and he reaches out to slide his hand behind Paz’ neck, making him focus on his eyes. “Paz, son, I’m just a little tired and achy, and these two fine souls were easy to trick into helping me. That’s all.”

That has Liita huffing with offence, Neleem roll her eyes and Paz grinning.

Dez will never ever tire of seeing his son smile. He used to smile so much as a toddler, but then came his teenage years and there were no smiles at all. They have so much catching up to do.

Paz easily moves forward when his father gives him a gentle tug and does not hesitate to fold into a warm hug.

So many hugs to catch up on as well. Dez doesn’t care that it is weak to want them, they feel nice. It makes him feel calm. And loved. And so what if his clan turns his back on him? Dez will still have his family and… friends. He’s not alone any more.

“Can anyone join in on that hug or…?” A voice asks with no small amount of amusement.

Dez turns around, startled as he recognizes that voice, and can only stare with mute shock as he sees a helmetless Sobek Saxon stands in front of the stairway leading up to them. Her arms are crossed, there is a wide grin on her face and Sobek radiates relaxed confidence. Behind her stands her husband, their three sons, and at least twenty more Mandalorians. None of which are wearing their helmet, but carries it under their right arm.

“What…?” Dez stutters.

Sobek shrugs one shoulder. “We followed you off Concordia. We’ll follow you above ground and into damnation too. This is our Way.”

Paz glances around, probably scouting for Raga as if she’d be summoned by her family’s presence.

A young Vizla makes his way closer to Sobek and tries to get a peek of Dez, but accidentally bumps into Shezmu Saxon, who grabs him and flings him to the ground and a vicious fight break out. Two Vizlas step forward to try to break it up, but that only causes Shezmu’s two brothers to join in on the fight.

“Now is not the time for this, you idiots!” Arren Kryze shouts, before he has to duck to avoid a punch and that is when mayhem really erupts among the Mandalorians gathered there.

Sobek doesn’t move, still looks up at Dez with arms crossed and a grin on her face.

The door slides open again behind them and Davarax comes charging out, followed by several of his children, but only to come to an abrupt halt next to Dez. He stares with disbelief at the chaos in front of the house. Dulcy clings to his arm and stares as well.

Somewhere, a window is shattered.

“There goes the neighbourhood…” Liita mumbles.

Dez grins. He sneaks one arm around Neleem, who is all eyes, and one arm around Liita, who is scowling at the loud ruffians. He looks over at his son. “This? This is the Way.” Then looks at Neleem. His heart is racing. “Will you walk it with me?”

Neleem studies his face as a smile slowly spreads across her lips. “Yes.”

“As my wife?”

“Yes.”

And amidst the loud chaos of the start of a new Tribe, Dez leans down and kisses her.

“I love you.” Neleem whispers against his lips.

“I love you too.” Dez replies with warm truth. “And, thank you. For saving me.” Without her, he would either have turned into a harsh creature like Borr or died in some random dispute. Without her, he wouldn’t have his son back in his life. Without her, he wouldn’t be a better man.

Dez Vizla has said goodbye to his old self.

Let the future begin.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Complicated

(This one goes out to the lovely @mountevey​ for the superkind words and the inspiration needed to chew on the idea of trying to repair the friendship that once existed between Davarax and Dez. As I said, Dez is a nightmare to handle and this was as close as I could get them xD Also, huzzah for the return of Ort’s favourite Trooper! )

-

Dez is not happy. He is not happy at all.

It’s been no more than five weeks since he, Neleem and Liita left to return to the Covert and yet here Dez is back again in the company of the wonder that is Davarax and has to watch Paz, his son, stare at the man with open affection and adoration as they wander around in this busy marked place.

Why is he back? Well… Dulcy had sent a holo, inviting them to visit for Paz’ Life Day, and Dez had accepted. Why did he accept? Well...

Just as he had feared, his fellow Vizlas and his other followers had been both perplexed and not overly pleased with the fact that Dez’ self-imposed solitude had been ended by an Outsider with no fighting skills, just like Davarax, and that he had brought two strangers into their home.

Ever since Paz had left with Beskar Boy and the Blonde Busybody over two years ago, Dez has been struggling with headaches and nausea and the weeks of knocking into clan heads that they were to treat Liita and Neleem with respect had certainly intensified that. Liita seemed unfazed by the chilled welcome, bless her, but Dez had been torn between his clan constantly bickering amongst themselves over every little thing and worrying that Neleem was utterly miserable in her new surroundings.

(He keeps expecting to find her gone one day with nothing but a brief message left behind for him.) 

So he had accepted the invite to give himself a break and Neleem some daylight.

After a brief moment of thinking that maybe he’d done the right thing by coming back during the surprisingly warm welcome, Dez’ delight had been quickly shattered by Dulcy sending him, Paz and, for some evil reason, Beskar Boy to fetch some stuff for Paz’ Life Day from the marked place in this town.

So, yeah, here he is, walking behind his son and his great hero in a crowded place, and Dez is NOT happy. He should have sent Neleem and stayed behind in the Covert, where he could have searched for some curse to give Davarax at least three days of seriously upset bowels and a week of bad hair.

Lost in glorious thoughts of Davarax suffering through the aforementioned torture, Dez doesn’t pick up on the threat before it’s almost too late. 

Davarax, distracted by Paz, fails to notice it at all.

Dez bolts forward, grabs the wrist of the massive man about to fire his blaster at Davarax and shoves his arm up so he shoots at the sky instead. His back towards Davarax and Paz prevents him from seeing their reactions, but Dez can almost sense their startled surprise.

The beast of a human strains against Dez’ grip and growls with raw rage. He is dressed in rags but they somehow manage to look strangely wrong to his huge, muscular shape. It’s a bad disguise and the reason why Dez’ subconsciousness probably had taken note of him as he approached Davarax.

Dez snarls back at him and reaches for his own blaster.

From out of nowhere, a figure emerges and this smaller man slams his hand against Dez’ gut.

No. Not his hand.

Dez’ HUD registers the injury half a second before his brain registers the vibroblade that has entered his body. Numbers start running and informs him of the damage already done and being done.

“Sorry.” The attacker says with an almost apologetic smile, all smug charm, keeping the blade in Dez to tear at flesh as it vibrates. "This isn’t about you. We just want the other Mando.”

Dez grunts with pain but refuses to scream. “The only one who gets to hurt that idiot is me. If you want him, you’re going to have to kill me first.” He throws in an obnoxious scoff. “And do you really think a puny blade is enough to bring down Dez Vizla?”

The man’s smile widens a bit and he clicks his tongue with an air of regret. “Like I said, this isn’t about you, but if you insist on being difficult; Dominic’s blade will most certainly rip you apart.” He winks at Dez. “I’m Dominic, by the way. And I’m not here alone.”

Behind Dominic and the giant of a man, more people step forward and about seven souls in rags take up position there. And that is when Dez gets a proper glimpse of what they are wearing underneath the disguises; Death Trooper armour. The crowd around them scatter for safety.

“You see, our former boss, who we all really liked, had a beef with your friend and, well, unfortunately our boss lost. However, the bounty he put on that Mando’s head is still valid.” Dominic grins. “Tell you what, step aside and we’ll share it with you. How about it? Yes?”

“No.” Dez breaks the goon’s wrist.

“Too bad.” Dominic says and yanks the blade out only to slam it back in again.

Dez lets go of the howling beast and delivers a hard kov’nyn to Dominic’s face, making him collapse and pull the blade along with him. Drawing his blaster and activating every weapon his HUD has access to, Dez prepares to fight every single one of these stupid Death Troopers who are foolish enough to challenge Dez Vizla. His bleeding is bad and the pain will slow him down so he won’t have too much time but he will take as many as possible with him into the grave.

The Death Troopers draw their weapons as well, yet the first shot fired comes from behind Dez.

Of course, Dez grits his teeth, Beskar Boy had to get the first kill.

Davarax’ blaster is hovering right next to Dez’ helmet and is fired again as Davarax brings down his second target before Dez finally snaps out of it and starts attacking as well.

The Death Troopers charges at them.

Like most battles, everything becomes a chaotic mess. Dez takes down his fair share of enemies, yet can’t help but registering that Davarax’ skill has not lessened over the years. He finds comfort in seeing his son keeping up with his hero at least. Himself, well, Dez isn’t doing too good. His HUD informs him that his blood loss is reaching worrying levels and the pain is making his vision blurry.

Dez isn’t even aware of his knees giving in or dropping to the ground before he hears Paz’ call out his name.

At some point, as Davarax finishes off the last Death Trooper, Paz carefully removes Dez’ helmet and stares anxiously at him for a second before shifting his focus to the wounds and trying to stop the bleeding.

Dez reaches out and takes a hold of Paz’ arm. “Hey…”

Paz looks up at him, pale and clearly worried. “I have to stop this bleeding or-”

“I told you…” Dez coughs and is a little surprised at the blood suddenly flooding his mouth to trail down his chin but decides to ignore it. “I told you I’d make you proud of me.”

This is not the heroic death Dez had pictured for himself, but that’s okay. It’s better that Davarax lives. He actually knows how to care properly for Paz. His other kids would mourn Davarax too.  And Neleem deserves better than to be stuck underground with someone like Dez Vizla.

Hell, Dez thinks as darkness creeps in on him and the pain begins to fade, even his clan will now be able to find someone capable of leading them to glory once he’s out of the picture.

This is okay.

-

This is not okay.

Dez grunts as his darkness is pierced by pain. A lot of pain. His entire gut feels like it is filled with shards from shattered glass. And he’s horribly nauseous. Again.

Forcing his eyes open, too angry to sleep any more, Dez finds himself without a helmet and staring at a colourless roof. It doesn’t take long before he concludes he’s on some make-shift bed inside the Razor Crest, on the floor in the kriffing cargo hold. Nice. Perfect. Just perfect.

He decides to sit up, but the moment he tries to move the pain intensifies and he gives up with a soft groan of agony. No way. He’s not getting up. Reaching with a trembling hand, he finds that his breastplate is gone, along with his underarmour and shirt, replaced by a huge bacta bandage.

Dez lets his hand sink down by his side again and swallows against the urge to throw up.

Dank farrik.

“You’re awake.” Paz’ voice comes from nearby and soon there are eager steps that brings his son over to kneel down next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think?” Dez mutters. He swallows again and looks over at Paz, sees him far too happy to find him alive than what is suitable for a Mandalorian. “Are you and Davarax okay?”

Paz nods. “Yeah.” He glances towards the ladder to the cockpit where his big hero is probably hiding before focusing on Dez again. “You saved his life.”

“He’s a moron, but he’s a Mandalorian.” Dez grouses. “We look after each other.”

“You nearly died.” Paz states in a faint whisper.

A part of Dez is pleased to hear his son doesn’t sound keen on that scenario, at least he still cares whether his father lives or not, but a bigger part can’t help but to wonder if his son wouldn’t have mourned a lot more if Davarax had been the one to die. “The way I’m feeling right now, I’m almost tempted to die. It would be a relief.”

To Dez’ utter surprise, those words brings a flash of genuine hurt in Paz’ eyes.

And the even bigger surprise comes when he feels his son’s hand tentatively take a hold of Dez’ lower arm.

“Don’t die.” Paz pleads in a whisper.

For the first time in his life, Dez finds himself lost for words. He’s just staring. Oh, how he wishes he was wearing his helmet. He probably looks like an idiot.

“I really thought you were going to die and…” Paz’ voice trembles a little. “Please don’t die, buir.”

Dez flinches. He actually flinches.

He hasn’t heard Paz call him that since his son was a child and still loved his father. Forget about being stabbed, this HURTS. He never thought he’d hear Paz call him that ever again. It’s… He’s... A massive tsunami of emotions rushes towards Dez’ heart and to his horror he feels his eyes starting to burn.

Clenching his jaw hard, Dez yanks his arm free and growls: “Get out.”

Paz blinks, startled. “What…?”

Increasingly agitated as he feels his jaw, possibly soon his lips, starting to tremble, Dez adds more force to his words. Anger is always nearby and easy to latch on to. “You heard me. Get. Out.”

Pale and visibly upset, Paz gets up, hesitates, then turns away and heads up the ladder to hide in the cockpit with his hero probably.

Once the door closes behind his son, only then does Dez exhale and he ignores the pain as he quickly lifts his arm over to hide his face to the inside of his elbow. A violent shudder goes through his entire body as he refuses to cry. He refuses! Dez Vizla is a warrior. He’s no coward and no weakling. He doesn’t cry. He never cries. And yet…

-

Davarax hears the door open behind him in the pilot seat. “He awake?”

“Uh huh.” Paz replies in a too light tone.

Instantly suspicious, Davarax turns to look at him. What he sees feels like a kick to the gut.

Paz looks shaken and beyond sad. His broad shoulders are hunched and his face is pale.

Damn that Dez Vizla! This is the final time Davarax will let him hurt Paz like this. Enough!

Davarax gets up from his seat in a movement so sharp it makes Paz back up a step and he has to force himself a little calmer so not to scare him further. “Take a seat, Paz. I just want a word with your father.”

Paz swallows. “I don’t think… that’s a good idea. He’s not… happy.”

“When is he ever?” Davarax sighs, stepping over to guide Paz over to one of the passenger seats. “Sit. Relax. I’m just going to talk to him. We’ll be back at the house within thirty minutes, so don’t worry.”

Paz nods, still clearly worried. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay here and let Neleem deal with him when we get back?”

Davarax huffs a laugh. “I can handle Dez. You just stay here and I’ll be right back.” He ruffles Paz’ hair until the youngster pulls away with a faint grin and fends him off with his own hands.

The smile on Davarax’ face lasts until he steps through the door and Paz can’t see him. That is when he lets the anger back in.

Davarax drops down, doesn’t bother with the ladder, and lands with a heavy thump that echoes through the cargo hold where Dez Vizla is lying like he’s the Mandalor of the ship. He stomps towards the idiot, brimming with countless angry words he’s stored up over the decades, and Dez hiding behind his arm isn’t going to stop him.

“I want a word with you.” Davarax states, coming to a hovering halt next to him. “Now.”

“Go away.” Is the muffled order he gets in return.

“No.” Davarax fires back, equally stubborn. “Look at me. You are going to listen to what I have to say and you are going to look at me.”

“I will punch you in the face.” Dez threatens.

“You can’t reach from down there.” Davarax points out, unfazed. “But I will kick you right in that bleeding belly of yours if you don’t face me like a true Mandalorian.”

That works, like Davarax knew it would. Dez’ pride in being a Mandalorian is his weak spot.

Dez yanks his arm down and glares at him with furious eyes. Eyes shining with tears.

Davarax blinks. Oh. Wow. What the…? He clears his throat, not sure whether to run away or go through with the lecture he’d meant to give him. “I, uh…”

“What?” Dez snarls, teeth bared and all anger. He would have been flying at Davarax with fist first if he’d been able to in that moment.

Davarax decides that now is not the time for a lecture. Sighing, he eases himself down to sit next to him. “Are you okay?” Personally he had bawled like a crazy person when Nemi was born and had wept when he’d lost friends, but Davarax has never once seen tears in Dez’ eyes before, not even as a child, only anger. He didn’t think the man was capable of crying.

“I got stabbed saving your ungrateful ass. Of course I’m not okay.” Dez spits. “Are we done?” He turns his face away.

“I meant…” Davarax struggles to find a way of putting it that won’t have Dez explode and also reveal to him what had just happened with Paz. “You, uh, seem upset. What’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?” Dez mutters.

An excellent question. Davarax shrugs. “Because we were friends once…?”

Still turned away from him, Dez scoffs with sour amusement. “That was a long time ago.” He discretely wipes at his eyes. “Go away. Go hang out with my son.”

-

It’s no shock that the man is set on being difficult. Dez Vizla always is. Especially when Paz is involved. But now that the door to the past has been opened, Davarax abruptly decides to say something that has been bothering him for decades. “Just, for the record, I didn’t lie when I said I didn’t steal your stuff back then. I didn’t break those things or put bugs in your water or-”

“I know.” Dez cuts him off, sounding more tired than anything else.

Davarax is once again struck by surprise. “What do you mean you know?”

“It was Pre.” Dez mumbles, continuing to look away. “He never liked me having any friends other than him and Cedia. I figured it out eventually and he didn’t even bother denying it.”

Jaw dropping for a moment, Davarax pulls himself together and feels another flash of anger at the idiot in front of him. “You knew. You knew all these years and you never told me?”

“What would be the point?”

Huffing and puffing his frustration, Davarax waves a hand. “Oh, I don’t know, to apologize?”

“Again, what would be the point?” Dez mutters.

Hardly believing his own ears, Davarax leans forward a little. “So I could forgive you, you massive nerf-turd!”

The laughter that slips from Dez’ lips is not a nice one, but this finally makes him look back over at him again. The tears are gone but they have left his eyes a little red and puffy. “Are you actually telling me you would have forgiven me?”

“Yes!” Davarax blurts out, marvelling at how a grown man could be this stupid. “Of course I would have, if you had apologized. I mean, you would have forgiven me if it was the other way around, right?”

“No.” Dez doesn’t hesitate and his flat voice tells the truth. “If you had done what I did, I wouldn’t have forgiven you. I never would have trusted you again. Like you shouldn’t, you soft-hearted moron. You’re going to have to do better if you’re going to look after my son. I can’t have you dying on him, understand? It would break him. So take your forgiveness, shove it up your ass and do better.”

Davarax wonders how different things could have been if only Dez wasn’t so messed up and stubborn. “I’ll tell you a secret.” Davarax offers with a faint smile. “When we were kids, you were my big hero. My biggest wish was to be your friend.”

This time Dez is the one to blink with startled surprise.

“Yeah…” Davarax confirms with a huff of a laugh and he has to force himself to focus on the present again. He sits up a little straighter. “Now, tell me, what happened with you and Paz?”

Dez tenses up and his gaze then flicks away from his. “I said something stupid.”

Like always. Davarax sigh. “What did you say?”

No response. Again, no shocker.

Davarax nods, knowing there is no way he can get Dez to talk if he doesn’t want to. Listen, yes. Talk, no. “Well, this time you ‘are’ going to apologize. To Paz. Understand?”

Dez turns his face away again but he does nod.

Returning to the cockpit, he reassures Paz that his father was just being an idiot again and it was not his fault, but amidst it all, Davarax finds that he can’t, for some weird reason, forget those tears…

That will have to be good enough for now and he will hold Dez to that apology. Davarax gets up. “Oh, and thanks for saving my butt back there.”

Dez grunts.

Davarax’ parents had raised him to become a useful tool for his sister to use. What had Borr Vizla taught Dez to make him this closed off to everyone, even his own son?

Dez’ behaviour over the years had made Davarax think the guy had the emotional range of Beskar, but he’s starting to realize that Dez might just be really, really good at hiding whatever he’s feeling, physically and emotionally. He reminds him a bit of Din on a bad day, in a weird way.

They make it back to the others.

“Did you know he was sick?” Neleem demands to know after she steps out of the room where Dez is recovering and into the hallway where Davarax and Dulcy are waiting. “I didn’t know, he never told me, did he tell you?”

Davarax shakes his head, as surprised as she sounds angry. He looks over at Dulcy by his side and she gives him a wide-eyed shake of her head as well. Turning back to Neleem, Davarax has to ask; “Sick how?” Dez had seemed fine to him. As ornery as ever, before and after he got stabbed.

“The medical scanner showed he was bleeding inside even before that horrible man stabbed him. His stomach is a mess and his blood pressure is way, way too high.” Neleem sighs and rubs her eyes. “He must have known something was wrong. His HUD would have told him.”

“Yeah…” Davarax does not doubt that for a second. Dez knew and said nothing. Because, again, the man is an idiot. Too proud to admit what he’d see as weakness. “Don’t tell Paz. Not yet.”

Dulcy frowns. “It’s his father. He has the right to know.”

“He’ll worry until his belly bleeds too.” Davarax says, then gestures for calm from both Dulcy and Neleem, who are clearly not on board with this idea. “If it turns serious, I’ll tell him myself. For now, let’s not. He’s upset enough as it is about Dez getting injured at the marked and tomorrow is his Life Day. Let him have that.”

Dulcy reluctantly nods and after half a second, Neleem does too.

“I’ll talk to Dez.” Davarax sighs and heads into the room. “I have an idea.”

Dez is lying on his back on the bed, the bacta bandage on his stomach has a couple of small red spots where blood has seeped through, yet a quick bodyscan shows tolerable results on Davarax’ HUD. The man will live. Good. Davarax takes off his helmet and walks over to stand by the bed.

Dez slowly opens his eyes, sees it is him, groans annoyed and closes them again.

“You’re sick.” Davarax states.

“You’re ugly.” Dez counters right away.

“I’m gorgeous.” Davarax corrects him before moving on. “And you knew you were sick. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because it’s none of your business.” Dez tries to shift over on his side to turn his back on him but gives up with a groan of pain. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m making it my business.” Davarax declares, crossing his arms. His students were all troubled and difficult souls, but he managed to get through to them, didn’t he? Surely Dez Vizla couldn’t be that much harder to reach? The guy worries so much about his son and his clan that he burns a hole in his belly? That makes him worth trying to save in Davarax’ eyes. “You and me, Dez, we’re going to be friends again.”

Dez scowls with all of his considerable might. “No. We are not.”

Davarax gives him a big, smug grin. “Oh yes, we are.”

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Mutiny!

They are having an extra long training session today. The kids are not happy about it, but life is rarely fair and he spoils them far too often.

“No.” Davarax corrects, firm and leaving no room for arguing. “Faster. And keep your arms tighter to your body, unless you want to broadcast and warn your enemy of your every move.” He taps Din’s elbow to make him pull it closer to his ribs before taking a bite of the fruit he’s been gnawing on for the last ten minutes while he saunters on to the next. “Raga, no, I’ve told you countless times; the ‘ the best defence is a good offence’-line is bantha shit. Leave yourself open like that and you won’t last long in a real fight.” He jabs a finger at her unprotected ribs and ignores her angry grunt as he merely saunters on, still chewing, to scan Barthor’s moves.

His kids are no longer young kids. They are starting to fledge and he needs to know they will be okay out there in the Galaxy. His kids are all excellent fighters, but they need more experience. Unfortunately that experience will always come at a cost, most often in blood, and he’s desperate to make sure that cost will be as low as possible so they are able to pay it without losing their lives.

“Barthor, chin down. The helmet and the breastplate won’t keep your throat safe.” Davarax reaches out and lightly shoves the teenager’s head down. Then he takes another bite of the fruit and turns his gaze to Paz, who sends him a warning glare.

“Paz, you really need to improve your speed. Unless you’ve somehow managed to turn your skin into Beskar, you need to focus on speed.” Davarax turns his attention to Corin. “Corin, stop ogling Din and focus on your stance.”

Corin’s face flushes and he flicks his gaze down to the ground.

Davarax munches some more on his fruit and turns to start his inspection round with Din again and pauses as he catches the tail-end of a look Din is exchanging with Paz. Both boys look away a little too fast for it to mean nothing. Davarax frowns.

The youngsters continue their work-out like he’d just hallucinated what had happened.

Chewing, eventually swallowing, Davarax lets the seconds pass but when nothing unexpected happens he returns to his teaching role again. A tap by Din’s neck. “Din, shoulders down. You’re too tense.” He turns to inspect Raga and sees her snap her gaze away from Corin, who also jolts and turns his gaze back to the ground.

Davarax frowns again. What is going on here…? He’s an experienced warrior and he is pretty skilled at sensing danger and his instincts are telling him there is something brewing in the air…

Movement caught out of the corner of his eye makes Davarax turn his head and he sees Paz yank his hand down and act like nothing had happened.

Now Davarax’ eyes narrow and his neck prickles with a growing wariness thrumming under his skin. More movement, now from Barthor, but he stops just as quickly when Davarax looks over.

What is going on here?

“What are you…” Davarax drawls.

“Now!” Din shouts.

Davarax has just enough time to draw a startled breath before Raga jumps up and grabs his left arm. He sends her a surprised look but doesn’t get to do much more than that as Din latches on to his right arm. Then something lands on his back and scuttles up with a frightful ease and Davarax lets out a grunt when Barthor covers his eyes.

Oh, the little plotters think they can take him down? Hah.

Davarax pulls his left arm, an abrupt motion that sends Raga flying with a yelp, and is about to do the same with his right arm, but his left one is recaptured and this time it is Corin; judging by the triumphant voice.

“I got him!”

Davarax huffs. “No, you don’t.” He yanks his arms together and savours the sound of Din and Corin colliding with each other and falling over. Freed, he reaches back to grab Barthor, but the little cretin is too fast and slides down Davarax’ back before he can get a grip. His escape is secured by the fact that Davarax is instantly distracted by Raga and Paz both running directly at him.

Bracing himself by grabbing a shoulder of each of them, the impact still forces Davarax to try to take a step backwards to keep his balance, which is when he bumps into Barthor strategically curled up there like a living tripping-block.

 Davarax is forced to let to of Paz and Raga as he automatically flails with surprise when he loses his balance. He falls and ends up landing, hard, on his back. His already smarting dignity is not spared further humiliation as Din and Corin grab an arm each, while Paz and Raga secure his legs. Barthor even has the audacity to climb up on his chest and raises both fists to the air. The dictator is down!

Not for long.

Davarax kicks and frees his legs, yanks and shoves until his arms are freed, and flings himself over on his side fast enough to send Barthor flying. Oh, he’s going to have them do three hundred push ups and run laps for three hours. While he might be impressed with their skill and stupid courage, they are really growing up, he is going to enjoy watching them pay with sweat for this mutiny.

Getting on his stomach, Davarax puts his hands against the ground and is about to push himself up when Paz and Din scramble on to his back and he’s shoved back into the dirt, seconds before Raga grabs one arm and Corin the other and they pull them out to each side so he can’t get any leverage to get up. Barthor grabs his legs.

Davarax struggles. He’s strong and he’s skilled, he knocks them off, sends them tumbling, but every time he does; they always return. They’re like ants! And, as the struggle continues, Davarax can feel himself being worn down… They know they won’t be able to defeat him in a fair fight so they are tiring him out like the clever fiends they are.

Amidst Davarax frustrated grunts and the teenagers excited cackles and cheering each other on, there is suddenly a voice that has them all freezing mid-movement and staring at the doorway, where Dulcy is observing them with a puzzled expression on her face.

“What is going on here?” She must have been alerted by the ruckus.

No answer.

The silence is deafening, aside from their heavy breathing, but eventually Davarax can’t help himself. He’s going to lose and he knows it. Unless... He utters a meek; “Help…?”

Dulcy tilts her head.

“Don’t.” Corin warns her. “Don’t do it, mom.”

Dulcy lifts a dry eyebrow.

“Just walk away.” Din advices her with firm voice.

Dulcy smirks.

Paz closes his eyes and lets out a soft curse.

This changes everything. The teenagers are forced to split up to deal with two opponents and that makes it almost easy for Davarax to battle his way up on his feet again and Dulcy has no trouble exploiting the fact that Paz, Din and Corin are all reluctant to challenge her.

Within ten minutes, Davarax has Paz and Raga in a headlock under each arm, and Din flailing on the ground with Davarax’ boot pressing down between his shoulder blades. Dulcy has a firm grip on a defeated Corin’s neck and Barthor by the ear.

Sweating, a little exhausted and quite breathless, Davarax looks over at his magnificent wife and grins with unabashed pride and joy. “You. Get over here.” She does, grinning every bit as much as he is, and it is dangerously natural for them both to lean in for a kiss, that develops into four more.

“We would have won.” Din claims, giving up and slumping to the ground. “If Dulcy hadn’t saved you, we would have won.”

Davarax hums and kisses Dulcy again. “It’s a good thing I’ve got a warrior queen to keep me safe then.” It’s been years, but he’s still not used to being one with someone. He didn’t think it was possible. There had to be something wrong with him, right? Everyone else fell in love and took the vows, but Davarax never found a soul who matched and connected with him, in every way. Until he met Dulcy. “As long as I have her to watch my back and protect me, I’m invincible.” Yet another kiss, loving how she’s glowing at his words, then Davarax looks down at the teenagers. “It’s a shame you guys don’t have anyone to protect you from push ups and doing laps for three hours.”

The teens groan.

“Don’t worry, babies.” Dulcy chirps and the kids look at her with hope. She smiles ever so sweetly with an evil twinkle in her eye. “I’ll make some cookies you can have after.”

The teens all slump and groan even louder.

Davarax laughs and has to kiss her yet again.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

I don’t want to talk about it

(This one goes out to @youngestthunderbird who wondered why Dez hates Davarax so much and I was so inspired by their superkind comment on Dez and Neleem’s story that I ended up adding the background story of what happened with Paz’ mother as well as the complicated relationship between Dez and Beskar Boy. A little something to snack on while the last chapter of TTSG approaches...)

-

Once the coordinates for the Covert are plotted into the ship’s computer and there is nothing much to do but wait while they travel, Dez is unceremoniously kicked out of the cockpit by that mean almost-daughter of his. She had claimed the pilot seat the second they stepped inside the cockpit with a confidence that is rather impressive for someone of her size.

“I need some peace and quiet after all that socializing you made me do, and you’re being too loud.” Liita states, eyes on the darkness in front of the ship as it slides among stars.

“I haven’t said a word.” Dez declares in a mix of light confusion and heavy irritation. He’d just been thinking about how he is going to handle things when they get back to the Covert. Also, this little twig of a girl doesn’t get to order Dez Vizla around. He’s the head of the Vizla clan, a powerful fighter, and he is to be respected.

“Go.” Liita orders.

Dez hesitates, irritation making his neck burn, but eventually concludes it is not worth it. Fine, let her sit here alone if that is what she wants. Exhaling, he turns and walks out of the cockpit. “Contact me if you need anything, Liit’ika.”

“Will do.” Liita says before the door closes behind him and Dez makes his way towards the passenger hold.

It’s strange, but Dez is not looking forward to going underground again despite how he has lived most of his life in shade or complete darkness.

Mandalore is just a faint memory, Dez was born there and had spent his first seven years on its sacred soil, but the planet was ruined before his time and he can’t remember ever seeing the sky above the dome. And then, after losing the civil war against those traitors, the Vizla clan and many others were forced into exile on Concordia, where Dez hid with the others in the mines for over a decade until the big war which toppled the Republic.

It is very impractical how this brief time under an open sky had reminded Dez just how good daylight can feel as he suspects it will be a long time before he will see it again.

Entering the passenger hold, Dez sees Neleem standing by the transparisteel and is staring out at the darkness. She looks… thoughtful. Is she regretting her decision already? “You okay?”

Looking over at him, Neleem gives him a faint smile. “Just thinking.”

Dez frowns. Doesn’t she trust him to protect her? He walks over to the woman who turns to face him. “There is little pirate activity in this area, even less now that the Empire do their sweeps here, so you don’t have to be nervous. If anything, I suspect this trip will be quite boring.”

Shaking her head a little with a soft laugh, Neleem pats a light hand on his breastplate. “I’m not worried about the journey.”

“Then what?”

Neleem takes a deep breath, stares at her hand on his chest, before meeting his gaze again. “I don’t want to disappoint your people. I want them to like me and… I don’t think they will because I’m not a fighter.”

“Who cares what they think?” Dez mutters. He’s been disliked most of his life and it never mattered to him.

“Maybe you could tell me a little about them?” Neleem asks. “Are your clan like you? Or are they more like Davarax?”

Dez snorts his contempt at the mentioning of Beskar Boy’s name and the ill-hidden hope in her voice as Neleem says it. “You’d like that? An entire clan of Davarax clones? Of course you would.”

Neleem blinks as she’s slightly startled by his words. “What?”

Dez turns away and stalks over to sit down on one of the seats there. “They’re not as perfect as your precious Davarax, no, but don’t worry. They aren’t as horrible as Dez Vizla either.”

“Take it off.”

Neleem stares at him for a second and then she walks over as well, but only to loom in front of him. “Take off your helmet.”

Dez looks up at her, defiant. He’s not sulking, he’s not. “Why?”

Sighing, resigning himself to being ordered about by yet another frail creature, Dez takes off his helmet and scowls up at her.

He only holds on to his scowl through sheer force of will when she takes a firm hold of his chin and stares back at him with a stern authority that has his stomach clench up with unease.

“I’m not saying Davarax is perfect, Dez, but there is no denying that he is a lot more open and welcoming than you are. Even you have to admit that.” She leans in a little more. “However, that does not mean you are a horrible person. You are a bit more work, true, but you say you’re willing to do it and lucky for you; I like a challenge. Perfect would be boring to me.”

Relieved, Dez almost grins, but the second his mouth twitches, Neleem tightens her grip on his chin and really pierces him with her stern stare. “But you don’t get to snap at me like that. Understood?”

Feeling chastised and deserving of it, Dez manages a meek nod.

“Good.” Neleem smiles and lets go of him. “Excellent.” She sits down next to him, loops her arm with his and rests her head on his pauldron.

Staring at the floor now, swallowing hard, Dez has to gather his courage before speaking. “Thank you. For not giving up on me.” He can be better, he can, he just needs time.

Neleem turns to rest her chin on his pauldron and looks at him. “Why do you hate Davarax so much?”

Dez almost squirms. “I don’t… hate him.” He turns his face away.

-

“Hey.”

Dez turns and sees Davarax standing there. The kid is barely nine years old and yet he has the audacity to speak to Dez, who is ten years? He even smiles at Dez. “What?” Dez snaps.

“Want to train together?” Davarax doesn’t stop smiling, all ease and confidence.

Dez considers it. He has seen Davarax’ sister fight, heard the grown ups talk about how talented Davarax is as well, and decides that he will be gracious and overlook Davarax’ youth. “Sure.”

During the next three months, Dez learns that Davarax is indeed as talented as the grown ups claims (His reflexes and strength is plain uncanny.), he is as talkative as Dez isn’t and smiles far too much. But what catches Dez completely off guard as he’s come to think of the younger boy as something akin to a friend is Davarax suddenly pulling mean pranks on him.

Items disappearing, Dez’ favourite mock-blaster ending up in pieces and his drinking water mysteriously having a whole bunch of bugs in it, it doesn’t make sense to Dez until his big brother reveals to him who is behind it all.

Dez doesn’t do pranks, he uses his fists instead. (It takes many, many years before Dez realizes that the razor-thin smile on Pre’s face as he watched Dez and Davarax beat each other bloody should have told him who the real culprit was.)

Dez and Davarax never train together again after that, but it is impossible for Dez to ignore Davarax’ presence. Every single day he hears someone fawning over the brat or his sister or both of them. Every single day Borr Vizla insists on training his children and makes them pay with blood for not being being better than the infamous siblings. They are Vizlas, they have to be the best warriors in the Galaxy and he will beat them into shape like a smith hammers beskar to his will.

Pre is eight years older than Dez, Cedia four years older, but that doesn’t prevent Borr from demanding he keep up with them. He doesn’t hit any less or any lighter depending on whether he is training his oldest son, his daughter or his youngest son.

“Pressure makes gems, ease makes decay.” Borr tells them, again and again.

The words, familiar wisdom to all Mandalorians, echo through Dez’ brain as he endures it. But Dez is fourteen years old, hobbling out of the training room while clutching his broken ribs, when he makes a silent vow: When the day comes and he has children of his own, he will never ever beat them like this. Never. And Dez’ children will still be better warriors than Borr could ever forge.

Across the hallway, Davarax stands with his sister and two other Mandalorians, laughing and holding yet another gift given to him from yet another admirer. His parents have never given Davarax or his sister a beating as far as Dez knows and yet Davarax hasn’t lost a single fight in the mines. Not one. Even Pre has lost a couple of brawls. It’s not fair.

And not only is Davarax immune to physical harm, no, all kinds of trouble, accidental or deliberate, simply slides off him like spit on armour. The adults lets him get away with everything. The kids trail after him and worship him like he’s some kind of big hero. Being a Vizla is nothing compared to being Davarax. His sister scares them, but he is the perfect boy. The golden boy. Dank farrik, he’s their Beskar Boy; endlessly precious, flawless and immortal.

Dez sneers and hobbles away.

The next time he’s in the same room as Davarax, Dez plants his fist in his gut without warning and savours the sound of his surprised wheeze and how Davarax folds and crumples to the floor.

It is the only time Borr Vizla laughs, pats Dez’ shoulder and tells him he did good. And that is totally worth the agonizing beating Davarax gives him the very next day.

-

“Well, you clearly have something against him.” Neleem says, dragging Dez back to the present. “Whenever you two are in the same room and there is no common threat to unite you, I keep expecting you to punch him in the face.”

Dez shrugs one shoulder. “That’s because I do want to punch him in the face every time I see him.”

Neleem snorts a surprised laugh before she manages to pull herself together and gives his thigh a light slap with her free hand. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s the truth.” Dez says. Few things lightens his heart as much as punching Davarax does.

“And yet you claim you don’t hate him.” Neleem points out. “Why do you want to punch him if you don’t hate him?”

Dez grunts and shifts his weight a little uneasily. “I don’t know.” Because Davarax always had it easy? Because the man had stolen his son? (Even if it was the right thing to do.) Because even after Davarax had been kicked out of the Covert while Dez is the leader of the most powerful clan there, Davarax now has a life most Mandalorians could only dream about; a home, a strong partner and a gaggle of adoring children? “I just don’t like him.” He lies.

Neleem lets out a thoughtful hum. “Are you sure it’s him you’re angry with?”

“Yes.” Dez declares in a stubborn tone. He’s not sure what she means but it makes him even more uneasy and his defensive anger is about to make his hackles rise.

“Okay.” Neleem says, and it is painfully obvious she’s just humouring him. “Can I ask you another question?”

“You just did.”

She gives him another admonishing slap on his thigh.

“Ask away.”

Despite permission, Neleem hesitates and seems a little uncertain when she finally asks her question. “Paz’ mother. If you don’t want to talk about her, that’s fine, I just… What happened?”

Dez instantly tenses up. No one at the Covert would have dared to ask this question or even mention ‘her’ name. And that includes Paz. Dez doesn’t like to think about those years. Not at all.

It’s strange how something that began so sweetly could end so badly…

-

Dez has just turned eighteen years old when he falls in love. Really, truly, badly, stupidly in love.

Up until now he’s had no trouble reeling in willing partners, he is a Vizla and not ugly or weak, but this is different.

She is different.

Borr has been dead for years from that fever killed him and a dozen others, Pre and Cedia are fixated on preparing for a war they are plotting on the traitors, but all Dez can think about is her.

Her clan is tiny, insignificant, but that doesn’t matter to Dez. She’s strong-willed and fierce and perfect with dark eyes and sleek hair. Her name is Skade.

Dez does his very best to impress her with his fighting skills and intimidating presence and it seems to work. She starts to look in his direction as well and more than once does a smug smile grace her lips as her gaze lingers on him. Nothing seems to frighten her. If there is something that she wants, she grabs it. Including him, to his great delight.

What follows is a whirlwind of chaos for over two months. Dez scrambles to keep up with Skade, drunk on love and lust, dodging Pre’s big meetings and training to be with her. He loves to watch her pummelling others with her fists. He’s amazed at how she’s able to out-drink anyone foolish enough to challenge her. He is mesmerized by her strength and slim waist. He doesn’t care how crazy her ideas are, how much trouble following her gets him into, all he cares about is her.

So when she tells him that she’s pregnant, Dez doesn’t hesitate.

“Marry me.”

“What?” Skade snorts a laugh and shakes her head. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Dez declares with calm determination. “I love you.”

“Your brother won’t approve.”

“I don’t care.” Dez feels increasingly giddy with joy at the thought of marrying the woman he loves. Who is carrying their child. His child. Dez is going to be a father. “Marry me.”

Skade grins. She doesn’t need him and they both know it. Still, her eyes scan him thoughtfully from head to toe, lingers on his face, probably considers the advantage of being a part of the Vizla clan, then she surprises Dez by giving him a single nod.

They take their vows in the darkness of the mines.

Just as she had predicted, Pre is not happy at all with his little brother going to be even more distracted by starting a family so he throws a fit worthy of a toddler, but for once Dez doesn’t yell back at him. Instead he actually feels something close to pity while Pre goes one and on about his grand plans, powerful contacts and deadly secrets. Pre’s eyes have a manic gleam and his face has become drawn and thin. He’s starting to look old. Far older than his years.

Guilt and loyalty makes Dez put in an effort to start helping with Pre’s plans, but he’s definitely not happy about it as that means he disappears for hours or even days, and instead of spending time with his partner, Dez ends up having to deal with cretins like Bo-Katan. She’s as fanatical as Pre.

When the time comes and Skade goes into labour, Dez is not prepared. How could these months have gone by so fast? How did that happen? But none of that matters the second he holds his son in his arms.

The boy has his eyes and his mother’s rage in his screams and Dez can barely breathe with how much he loves him. He might only be nineteen years old, but Dez knows he will never love anyone more than this for the rest of his life. It’s not physically possible.

Everything should have been perfect.

It’s not.

The bickering between him and Skade, it had started when he kept vanishing with Pre to do his bidding instead of grabbing power for himself and is fuelled by her endlessly annoying him with her sloppy habits, it evolves into arguing and is starting to get downright ugly. Skade knows exactly which words to use to cut deep and leave no mark. She knows his every weak spot.

Dez can handle the contempt she sends his way, he’s not a coward, but he does NOT like her coldness towards their two month old son. She reminds him of Borr Vizla.

“You’re spoiling him.” Skade growls as he gets up to tend to the crying Paz in the middle of the night.

“Go back to sleep.” Dez replies in a curt tone and holds his son close. So what if he’s spoiling him right now? There will be plenty of time to harden Paz into a warrior, now is a time for affection.

It is about a year later, shortly after Paz takes first steps and has Dez nearly exploding with pride, when Pre’s long craved war becomes a reality. A brutal reality. It brings not just the resurfacing of the Death Watch, but a rearrangement of the entire Galaxy. Pre’s cackling laugh echoes through the mines and Dez knows his already unstable brother has now completely lost it.

Cedia is the first to die. Far too many follow her.

Pre dodges death for a while but eventually he too follows their sister, plus a worrying amount of Vizlas and their allied clans. This causes a fracture among Pre’s followers; some insist on continuing on with their missions, but others look to Dez for guidance. He is the head of the Vizla clan now.

Well, Dez will not die for Pre’s dream of revenge. He has other plans.

He chooses to leave and together with others; the Children of the Watch is founded. It seems like a sign from the gods that Dez is making the right choice when their ship has barely left Concordia and Sobek Saxon increases their numbers by giving birth to a healthy girl. She names her Raga.

Skade never forgives Dez for this choice.

She loathes their new home, once again underground, despises their golden armoured leader and vents all of her frustration and anger on her family. Dez sighs as she paces the room and snarls angry words over some minute thing that happened yesterday and she’s not able to let go of. He absently runs his hand over Paz’ hair as the boy sleeps next to him, resting his head on his father’s thigh, or is at least pretending to sleep, and Dez wishes she would just shut up. He’s stopped listening to her a long time ago and her voice just grates on his nerves.

Paz’ fifth Life Day is only four weeks away when Dez walks into their room and discovers that Skade has left. She has taken all her belongings with her and leaves behind a short message; their marriage is over, she has found a more worthy partner and she is going to follow a different Way.

Dez is trying to digest this, absently surprised at how much her words hurt yet again and how hollow his chest feels, when the door slides open and there is the sound of soft footsteps.

“Father?” Paz looks both confused and lost. “Where is Mother?”

Dez closes his hand and gently but firmly crushes the message capsule in his grip. “She left. It’s just you and me from now on, son.”

Seeing the same hurt he’s feeling in his son’s eyes makes Dez grit his teeth to keep the sudden intense hatred towards Skade silent. How could she do this to their son? If she wanted to humiliate and hurt Dez like this, he’s a grown man and will have to suffer through it,  but to just leave their son? And without a word? Unforgivable. Dishonourable. Despicable. He will never forgive her for this.

Paz is staring at the floor, eyes blank with unshed tears and shoulders slumped with defeat.

Sighing, Dez holds out his hand. “Come on, son. Let’s go do some blaster practice?”

Paz sniffles, nods and takes his hand with his small one. He holds on tight, as if he’s afraid that Dez will leave him too.

They never say her name again.

-

“She decided she wanted a different life.” Dez mumbles reluctantly. “And that she didn’t want me or Paz in it. I came home one day and discovered she’d left.”

Neleem sits up straighter and frowns. “She just left?”

Dez shrugs and clears his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “That’s right. Though, some were probably amazed that she managed to put up with me for as many years as she did.”

“But Paz?” Neleem says, increasingly upset.

“Yeah…” Dez clears his throat again and looks away. “We don’t talk about this. Me or Paz.”

After a moment of silence, Neleem pats his arm. “Okay.” She leans her head on his pauldron again and Dez dares to glance back at her.

She has to be curious about his past, Dez knows he would never have just let it be with that, yet Neleem seems to settle for what little he’s told her and isn’t going to push him further. He probably should scold her for giving up so easily when there is something that she wants, even if it is just sad tales from his past, but he also feels the tension in his neck and shoulders slowly bleed out of him again and he’s pathetically grateful that she doesn’t pursue it.

“Don’t worry about the Covert.” Dez offers in an effort to make up for being unwilling to properly answer her questions. “While they might be a bit… cold towards outsiders, I promise you I will protect you. And Liita. You’ll be safe, I give you my word.” 

His clan and followers will no doubt be shocked beyond words that Dez will be bringing two outsiders into their Covert. A Foundling can be accepted, even if Liita is a bit old to be considered as such, but the second Dez will introduce Neleem as his… well, as his, they will no doubt be thinking back on how much shit he gave Davarax for the exact same thing. Dez have no doubts that they will test him, and try to test her, so he will have to be vigilant and merciless. He will pummel anyone who so much as breathes wrong in Neleem and Liita’s direction.

“I’m not scared.” Neleem says, which is probably not entirely true judging by her questions, but there is no hesitation or doubt in her next words: “I trust you.”

Trying not to show how much that means to him, Dez puts on a slight smile. “Good.” He may be a horrible husband and an even worse father, but there is one thing Dez is good at and that is fighting, and he won’t hesitate to fight anyone, even his own kin, to protect these two brave souls who have agreed to follow him despite having no reason to.

Neleem reaches up, touches his face and gives him an affectionate smile in return before moving up to add a gentle kiss to it as well.

Pleased, if a little surprised, Dez’ smile widens and he steals a second kiss. He can’t help it. He’s utterly fascinated by her. She’s incredibly brave, yet so very soft and honourable…

“Did Liita kick you out of the cockpit for the rest of the trip?” Neleem asks with a dangerous grin.

Dez squirms, slightly embarrassed over giving in to the scrawny girl’s will but knows Neleem won’t think less of him for it. She doesn’t think like a Mandalorian. “Yeah.”

Neleem hums, pleased, and she moves to swing a leg over his and shifts up to straddle Dez before he can say or do anything. “That means we have hours to overthink on what lies ahead. Oooor, we can spend some of that time distracting ourselves with something a little more… fun.”

Dez’ jaw drops a bit as his brain overloads at the sensation of her, and when her words finally seep through the sensory fireworks, his hands act on their own and grabs her hips to pull her even closer. A tantalizing shiver of pleasure slithers through his every vein but Dez can’t stop himself from sending the door to the cockpit a nervous glance. “What if she…?”

“Seeks us out for company?” Neleem says, sending him a meaningful look.

Dez snorts a laugh. “Valid point.” He leans back in his seat and gets a bit more comfortable, stroking his thumbs along her hip bones. This is so unlike him. Dez Vizla doesn’t do this kind of… reckless behaviour. So why is he grinning and giving her hips an encouraging squeeze when she rolls them against him? Why is he soon running his hands down her lekkus to make her squirm?

The old Dez Vizla might not have indulged like this, might not have seen Neleem beyond her lack of armour and helmet, but that man was also the one who ruined everything good in his life. There is no denying that Dez is different now. He’s changed. And the Covert will sense it the second he steps inside.

But maybe, with Neleem’s help to find the right words, he can bring his clan and his followers out into the daylight as well? She had found her way into Dez’ brain, surely the others won’t even be a challenge for her.

Wouldn’t that be fun; showing up on Davarax’ doorstep with his entire clan and followers? Hah, let Beskar Boy try to top that. Dez had promised to make Paz proud of his father, after all.

Suddenly Dez doesn’t think about their arrival at the Covert with reluctance. It’s not going to be easy, but once again he finds that he has hope. With Neleem and Liita by his side, he has hope.

However, Dez is getting awfully warm in his armour, that mission is hours away, and there are far more pleasant things to focus on right now...

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if... Family Portrait

(Excuse me while I DIE because the art deity @cacodaemonia​ was so incredibly kind to create a What-If version of the Fearsome Four pic that Davarax took before he was ripped away from them. Well, here you have the Devoted Dad, Mama Bear, and their Fearsome Five! The cuteness, the adorableness, the PERFECTION is killing me! Davarax’ and Dulcy’s smiles (his slightly slanted grin and her big happy one, aaaah) and their hair (I worship the floof!) and their eyes (So kind, how??) and their armour (sessayh!) and... *flails* All of it!! And sweet, adorable, big eyed Corin, still a little more timid than his rambunctious siblings... PERFECT, I SAY! And to think this is what Corin could have had... Well, in the What-if, this is what he does have!)

A hundred years ago, I promised Davarax’ POV when Dulcy was kidnapped. Apologies for the unforgivably long wait, but I hope the fact that it was meant to be four pages and ended up closer to thirteen can make up for it a little?

-

What If... we saw it through Davarax’ eyes?

Davarax lowers Zurf to the floor with his grip on his wrist instead of slamming him to the ground like he usually does after managing to flip him over. Letting go, he then backs up, lifts his hands into the air to acknowledge the roar of approval from the other seven Mandalorians present in the training room and nods at the mix of praise aimed his way and the mockery flying Zurf’s way.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Belitz calls out, gesturing for everyone to settle down while he walks towards Davarax. “What was that, Davarax?”

Grinning, Davarax starts backing towards the exit. “That? That I believe was a win.”

“Since when do you coddle your opponent?” Belitz demands to know and follows, trailing after the scent of possible juicy news like a Corellian hound. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m not allowed to be in a good mood?” Davarax drawls, still grinning, still backing up.

“I’ve experienced you in a good mood.” Belitz states. “This is not you in a good mood. You in a good mood is merely spraining bones instead of breaking them. This? This is something else. What happened?”

Davarax snorts amused. He will die before he tells them anything.

“It’s that woman, isn’t it? The outsider.” Pagyle shouts from the other side of the room. Her voice soaked with glee. “She’s got you soft.”

Finally reaching the exit, Davarax does an extravagant bow. “I win. I leave. See you tomorrow, losers.” And then he flees, laughing out loud at the wave of questions and suggestive howling that follows him.

They are right and they are wrong. Wrong, because Davarax ‘is’ in a good mood. Extremely good mood. Honestly, he’s drunk on happiness. And his sparring partners are right, because he does owe the glow in his chest and the smile on his lips to Dulsissia.

Davarax can’t stop himself from bringing up the memory of her looking at him with open affection, the sensation of her fingers braiding with his, as well as the lazy bliss of just having her close and feeling her breathe. And that was just the memories from last night.

He’s never felt anything like this for anyone before. He’s never met anyone like her before.

Over a year with him on a different planet and yet Dulsissia had waited for him. Davarax doubts she knows how much her messages had helped him through that year. She has no idea how many times he replayed those holos during the moments when the darkness curled up in his chest from missing her and his other three kids so much he could barely breathe. How he dreaded what he would come back home to. Every day he woke up thinking that would be the day he learned he’d lost her.

Davarax had believed her when Dulsissia said she’d wait, but life happens and he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had found someone else… but she didn’t. She kept the children safe, handled life in the Covert like she’d grown up there and welcomed him back like she had missed him every bit as much as he’d missed her. If anything, it seems like her feelings for him were even stronger.

It gives him hope. Maybe one day, please let it happen, he’ll be able to defeat the demons from her past, rebuild the trust Macero Valentis had shattered, and take his helmet off for her.

Davarax’ happiness lasts until there is a knock on his door, hours later as he’s about to get ready for the day’s training session with the children, and he opens it to find Corin and Din looking up at him with almost identical anxious facial expressions.

“Is… Is my mom here?” Corin asks in a thin voice.

Davarax frowns. “No?” It’s late afternoon, a time she usually spends with her son, and he hasn’t seen her since she left his room last night. “Why are you asking?”

Corin fidgets. “Me and Din were working on a project with Barthor. Mom was supposed to come pick me up, but she never showed. A-and when we went back to my room, she wasn’t there either.”

Unease instantly coils around Davarax’ heart. There is no way Dulsissia would forget picking up Corin. She wouldn’t. If something came up, something so serious it couldn’t wait, she would have asked Davarax or someone else to bring a message to Corin and make sure he was okay.

Something is wrong.

-

Corin and Din already look horribly nervous and as Davarax doesn’t want to upset them further he keeps his thoughts to himself. He clears his throat and tries to sound calm. “Okay, listen…” Davarax tries to think and not just react. “I’ll ask around. She probably got caught up in something.” He considers his options and gestures the boys inside. “You two wait here. Okay?”

Sniffling, Corin seems to be very much aware of the seriousness of the situation and simply stands there, head lowered, until Din places his arm around him and leads him into the room.

Davarax takes a step out but pauses to look back at the boys. “And, uh, don’t touch the weapons.” While he trusts them, he also can’t ignore the fact that there are explosives in his room strong enough to send them all to Mandalore That Was.

Din nods. Corin merely sniffles again.

Davarax rushes towards the people he knows Dulcy has the most contact with. Decco hasn’t seen her all day, neither had the next one he asks, but then he gets his first lead.

“I think she went above?” Ayah says, shrugging. “I saw her walking down the hallway with that basket of hers this morning.”

This makes the unease grow stronger. Davarax stalks towards the stairs and enters the city above to set course to where he knows she usually sets up her little stand to sell her cookies.

The sun is shining over Nevarro, the HUD lists the temperatures uncomfortably high, so it shouldn’t be surprising that few people are walking around, but it still fuels Davarax’ unease and makes him wonder if something had scared people indoors. He pauses for half a second when he turns the corner and sees she’s not there. Dulcy is not in her spot. There’s not a single soul in the street. His heart drops. Cold sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. She’s not there! But, his eyes focuses on the ground, but there is ‘something’ there…

Walking over, Davarax kneels down. He reaches down and brushes some sand away so he can pick up what had caught his attention.

It’s a piece of a cookie.

Staring at it, Davarax swallows down his ever increasing sense of doom and forces himself to look around on the ground. He sees more pieces. Like someone had dropped a bag of them on the ground and then stepped on it. His heartbeats feel like punches inside his chest. Fear. Raw fear. What had happened here?

“Are you looking for the nice cookie lady?” A voice asks.

Davarax looks up and sees a scruffy mercenary standing a small distance away, leaning against the wall next to him and munching away on a cookie with the few teeth he has left. Davarax stands up and drops the piece he had been holding. “Yes. Have you seen her?”

The mercenary nods, chewing thoughtfully. “She was her earlier.”

“Did you see where she went?” Davarax asks.

“The Imp took her away.” A different voice replies. It’s another mercenary. She has a small bag of Dulcy’s cookies hanging from her belt, next to grenades and what looks like small bones. She has more teeth than the other guy. A lot more teeth. Sharp ones.

“What Imp?” Davarax presses on, refusing to acknowledge how panic is starting to set in. He’d told Dulcy she was safe. He’d told her not to be afraid of going into the city because they’d know if Valentis showed up. Had Macero Valentis taken her away?

“An officer.” The first mercenary replies. “He had a whole bunch of those stormtroopers with him. Nothing we could do.” A slight frown settles between his eyebrows. “Seemed like she knew him.”

Davarax closes his eyes, forces himself to stay calm despite being horrified and enraged at the same time, then he exhales and opens them again. “Did you see where they were going?”

“The army base.” The second mercenary informs him. “I hope you find her. She’s nice.”

Thanking them, Davarax heads below again and finds the one responsible for supervising the information coming in about the Imperial movement on the planet. It is another test of his willpower when he learns that he wasn’t warned because he’d told them to keep an eye out for someone who asked around about Dulcy and Corin or the arrival of a man by the name of Macero Valentis. No one had asked around about Dulcy and Corin,  and Davarax had said nothing about a Vecon Valentis. They also inform Davarax that Vecon Valentis’ ship had left in a hurry hours ago.

Seething, Davarax barely resists unleashing his anger on these idiots, who probably weren’t too concerned about the safety of an outsider, and he stalks off to the one with the power to do something about this nightmare.

His sister.

-

Stepping into the Forge, smacking his hand on the button to close the door, Davarax does not kneel down. His heart his thumping like crazy. Dulcy is okay. Yeah, she’s okay. Dulcy is tough. She can handle herself until he can get to her. Please let her be okay. She has to be. Davarax yanks off his helmet. “The Imps got Dulcy.”

His sister pauses in her work, the golden helmet turns and her expressionless t-visor looks at him. “I was just informed.”

Davarax takes a step forward. “We have to go after them.”

There is a moment of silence and then she lowers her hammer and sets it aside. “No.”

Blinking, Davarax did not expect that answer. Okay, she had not been thrilled about Dulcy from the second he’d brought her home, finding her weak and whimsical, but he’d taken it for granted that she’d resent Imps taking someone under her protection. “Why not?”

“She’s an outsider.” His sister replies. Her voice is as emotionless as her helmet. “She’s not a Mandalorian. She’s not a Foundling. She’s not of this Covert. I will not risk the lives of our people for her. That is not the Way.”

Now Davarax is the one who needs a moment of silence and then he finds his voice again. “What about her son?”

“The boy is your Foundling.” Is the flat reply. “According to your reports, he shows promise as a fighter.”

Davarax nods thoughtfully, knowing there is no way he can change her mind. She’s not someone who changes her mind. He should know. “I will make arrangements that he’ll be taken care of if I don’t return.” He turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” Now there is a hint of sharpness in her voice.

Davarax stops, stares at the door and tries to sort out what he’s feeling. It’s like there is an imploding star inside his chest. It’s hard to breathe. “I’m going after her.”

“You are not.” That is an order.

“I am.” Davarax turns to face his sister again. He can’t lose Dulcy. He won’t. He refuses!

“You are staying here.”

“Or what?” Davarax snarls viciously, stepping forward, hands clenching and pure rage burning in his eyes.

She lifts her hands and removes her helmet. Her dark eyes and strong cheekbones, her hair that mix of brown and red, so similar to their mother she could be her twin. There is no mercy in her gaze. “You are staying here, brother. You are not going after her. She will lead you to your death.”

Davarax does not back down one inch. She was always meant to be the one to follow in their parents footsteps and he was to be her general, but this is an order he will not obey. “I love her vod. There is only one way you can stop me and you know it.” She is going to have to beat him unconscious and he will fight her with everything he’s got. “Try it!”

Her eyes narrow a tiny bit. For her, that is a huge red flag, revealing just how angry she is. Despite her detachment to most things, Davarax knows she loves him. She lets him get away with so much, stuff no other Mandalorian would dare to try under her rule, and she will knock him out if she thinks it will save his life.

But he will never forgive her if she stops him from saving Dulcy, his heart and future, and his sister must know this because she simply puts her helmet back on and turns away from him.

She won’t stop him, but he’s on his own. It hurts, but he’s not surprised.

Davarax puts his own helmet back on and walks out of the room.

-

Davarax is shaking. His head and his heart is in complete chaos.

He’s dreading what Dulcy is going through. Guilt is ripping him apart. She’d trusted him and now she is being brought back to the man who had almost ruined her and her son. Macero’s temper must be terrible, judging by how terrified she’d been when she thought he’d found them due to that lone stormtrooper, and Davarax can barely breathe when thinking about what the man will do to her if he gets his hands on her.

Davarax fights air into his lungs. Focus. He cannot undo what has happened, he needs to focus on what he can do. He needs his weapons and he has to explain to Corin what has happened and...

Davarax marches back to his room.

“Uncle Vecon…?” Corin goes pale as a sheet. His eyes fill up with more tears and his little frame start to tremble. “He’s… He’s going to take mom back to father. And he’s going to be sooo angry…”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle hold of his shoulder and makes the boy look up at him. “Corin, listen to me, I won’t let that happen. Understand? I’m going to get your mom back. I promise you.” Corin looks up at him with complete trust despite the fear in his eyes. So young and yet painfully aware of the horrors his father is capable of. “You promise?”

Davarax nods, struggling to hide how much he wants to kill Corin’s father. The Galaxy would be a better place with one less monster in it. He pulls the boy in close and hugs him. “I promise.” And he fully intends to keep that promise. “But for me to do this, I need you to do me a huge favour.”

Nodding, Corin absently wipes a runaway tear from his face. “Okay.”

“What do you need us to do?” Din asks, ready to be Corin’s support pillar and Davarax feels a stab of pride as well as affection for the boy. His brave Foundling. Despite the horror he went through himself not too many years ago, Din doesn’t hesitate to support his friend. Like a true Mandalorian.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Davarax doesn’t want to mention the possibility he might not come back at all. They are worried enough. “I need Corin to stay with… a friend of mine until I get back.”

Din lowers his gaze, knowing Davarax is not talking about his parents as they have made it clear they do not like outsiders and consider Corin very much as one. “I’ll… come along. Make sure he settles in.” “Thank you.” Davarax says. He’s not entirely thrilled about what he’s about to do, but it’s his least bad option out of a bunch of worse options. “Corin, let’s go by your room and pick up some stuff for a couple of days. Okay? We have to hurry.” Corin nods, meek and affable. He’s horribly pale and looks heartbreakingly shaken, but he is holding himself together despite having lost the person who means the most to him. He’s stronger than he knows, Davarax muses. One day that boy will grow up to be a powerful warrior.

They pick up some clothes and Corin’s datapad. Davarax notices a small pile of Din’s clothing lying on a chair in a corner and wonders just how much time the kid spends with Dulcy and Corin. Then they make their way down the hallway and head towards a door he really does not want to approach.

Davarax pushes the button to signal his presence. He doesn’t want to use the comm system and risk being shut down.

Nothing.

Sighing, Davarax pushes again. He doesn’t have time for this. Every second wasted means that Valentis guy dragging Dulcy farther and farther away and closer to her former husband.

Finally the door slides open and Davarax forces his spine straight. “I need a favour.”

A heavy silence follows before there is a slight shake of a blue helmet as if to reboot his brain before he’s able to speak. “You. You are asking Dez Vizla for a favour?”

Corin and Din exchange looks behind Davarax and he can almost hear what the kids are thinking. Why on earth would he bring Corin to Dez Vizla?

Well, Barthor’s parents would never agree to take him in. Neither would Din’s parents. And while the Saxons would say yes, he’s not entirely sure Corin would survive that. Decco’s illness causes days when she has no energy and might soon end her days all together. The Fighting Corps are constantly on the move and its members have no stability for a child. Dez Vizla may be an uptight and pompous jerk who likes to talk about himself in the third person and unfortunately treats his son like an adult instead of a child, but he rarely leaves the Covert, guards his wards with his life and will never turn his back on a Foundling in need. Plus, in his quarters, Corin will also have Paz to look after him day and night. Hopefully the stay won’t be for too long, but at least Corin will be safe and cared for.

“I need you to look after Corin for a bit.” Davarax says, trying to sound calm and confident.

Dez snorts a haughty laugh. “What?” He shakes his head again, still struggling to believe what he’s hearing. “You want… What?”

“Dulcy got snatched by Imps. They took her away.” Davarax explains in a tight voice, trying hard not to upset Corin. “I’m going to get her back.” He switches to Mando’a and hopes Corin doesn’t understand what he’s saying next. ”This is serious, Dez. I need your help. Keep him safe?”

Dez stares at him for a while, entirely still and unreadable, before he finally sighs and takes a step to the side to let Corin enter. “Get inside, boy. Now.”

Corin freezes, panics, and looks up at Davarax. As expected, he responds badly to Dez’ rough personality. Davarax is about to speak but Din beats him to it.

Din gives Corin a light nudge. “I’ll come with you. It’s okay.” He sends Dez a challenging look.

Dez snorts again, amused by the glare, and gives a nod. Fine. Din can come too.

Relieved, Davarax sees the two shuffle into the Vizla quarters and tells himself it won’t be the last time he sees them. He’s going to get Dulcy and then they will all be together again.

-

Davarax grabs his weapons and as many grenades and explosives as he can before he sets course for the Razor Crest. His heart is still thumping so hard he can almost feel it battering against the inside of his breastplate.

If Macero Valentis is a monster, his brother might be too. What if he has hurt Dulcy? What is she thinking about right now? Does she think Davarax has abandoned her or does she find comfort in the knowledge that he’ll come for her? Is she afraid? She’s tough, no doubt about that, but courage is not the absence of fear. Only a fool would not feel fear at times. And the mere thought of her being afraid burns Davarax’ heart like acid.

Lost in a hurricane of thoughts and emotions, Davarax doesn’t hear the voice calling out his name and is a bit startled when someone grabs him just as he’s about to step outside of the Covert. Snapping his visor over, Davarax is surprised to find Paz there.

“Is it true?” Paz says, breathless and agitated. “Dulcy’s gone? The Imps got her?”

Davarax exhales. “Yeah…” He has to gather himself and appear calm once again, not wanting to worry Paz either. “But I’m going to get her back. Don’t worry. You just make sure Corin is okay.”

Paz gulps for air as his agitation increases. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? No.” Davarax blinks when the boy bolts by him and stalks out of the Covert. “Paz! Paz, get back here.”

Marching towards the Razor Crest, Paz doesn’t slow down. “I’m coming with you!”

Davarax curses and trots after him, trying to persuade him to go back. Paz makes it all the way inside the ship’s cargo hold before Davarax loses his patience and grabs his arm.

“Paz, I don’t have time for this!” Davarax makes Paz’ visor focus on him. “Dulcy is in serious trouble. These Imps are dangerous.”

“I can fight!” Paz snaps back at him, his voice both angry and shaking.

“I know you can fight.” Davarax reassures him, a little impatiently. “But you are not coming with me. Go home, Paz. Look after Corin. And the others. Go!”

“No!” Paz shouts, but his next words are soft and broken. “She has to come back. She has to.” He struggles to keep speaking. “She’s always so nice to me. To all of us.”

“I know…” Davarax whispers. Paz had been abandoned by his birth mother all those years ago and now he is ready to rush into battle and get himself killed to avoid losing Dulcy. The only woman who had cared enough to act like an actual mother to him. “I’m going to get her back, Paz. I promise. But I have to go now.”

“I’m going with you.” Paz repeats in a stubborn reply.

Sighing, Davarax knows more words are pointless. While the helmet hides Paz’ face, he knows the boy well enough to hear in his voice and read from his body language when he’s too determined to be persuaded otherwise. “Go home, Paz.” He tightens his grip on his arm and drags him out of the ship, kicking and screaming.

Paz’ fury is frightful and Davarax is fairly certain if the boy had a weapon; he would have shot Davarax when he lifts the ramp and blocks him out of the ship. He might not forgive Davarax for this, but he will be safe and alive. And that is what Dulcy would want too.

Dulcy…

-You and Corin are safe here, he’d told her.

She had trusted him when he’d said they’d know if there was danger nearby. He’d told her those words because he’d believed them too. He’d failed to take idiocy and dislike towards outsiders into consideration. The idiots hadn’t meant for any harm to come to her, they just didn’t put any effort into the safety of an outsider.

She’s okay. Dulcy has to be okay. Davarax will get to her long before Macero Valentis does. He will. He won’t fail her, or the children, not as long as he breathes. Davarax had given up on having a family of his own beyond what time he was allowed to spend with his treasured troublemakers and he had settled for being a provider for other families instead, but then Dulcy entered his life and everything changed.

Davarax’ hands shake as he starts up the Razor Crest, driven by red hot fury at the ones who had taken Dulcy away and cold dark despair at the thought of her surrounded by enemies.

He’s going to get her back.

-

Going after the Imp ship is part guessing, part experienced calculations and part luck. There is no way for Davarax to know their exact route or destination as he has no clue where Macero Valentis is currently located, but he knows which routes are most commonly used by Imps ships as he tends to avoid them like the plague and he has contacts to ask along the way.

It feels strange to deliberately enter areas where he is bound to meet Imp ships.

Constant attacks has left the Imp army jumpy so there are a couple of ships who take his presence and him scanning them the wrong way. The Razor Crest has to make a run for it several times and ends up with scorch marks on her hull, but that’s not enough to make Davarax stop.

He can’t.

Eventually Davarax manages to lock on to the one moving against the stream of Imp ships and with single-minded determination as if there is some place it needs to be and as fast as possible. He can’t be sure, but his heart tells him he’s found his prey and Davarax always trusts his instincts.

Unaware of baring his teeth like a furious beast and the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing up, Davarax can only register one thought: the hunt has begun.

Food and sleep have become a distant memory on this trip. When did he eat or sleep last? Yesterday? The day before? He can’t remember and Davarax doesn’t care. He simply keeps pushing the Razor Crest and himself to catch up with the Imp ship before it reaches the clutches of Macero Valentis.

Eventually he does catch up with the ship.

Others tend to shake their head at Davarax’ attachment to the Razor Crest, but he knows what she’s capable of and how to us her strengths in ways that his enemies never expect. People underestimate his ship all the time and Davarax hopes they continue to do so – as it makes his victories all the more sweeter and drastically reduces the risk to his life and his ship’s safety.

When the Imp ship slows down, for whatever reason, Davarax goes for it.

Setting loose two decoys with signals meant to impersonate much larger ships than the Razor Crest, Davarax gives a powerful boost with his engine before powering down and hoping the forward momentum will bring him to where he needs to go; the landing dock on the Imp ship’s left flank.

It’s a move he’s only done twice before and he succeeded once, but Davarax decides to risk it.

Dulcy is right there. In that ship. And Macero Valentis is not, or there would have been a second ship to accompany them. There is still time to get her back.

The Razor Crest does not fail him. She slides through the darkness, under the Imp ship’s radar and drowsy attention, their arrogance brought on by them thinking themselves superior in every way can be quite helpful, and once she’s powered back up it only takes the gentlest of nudges to make her move up to where she can latch on to one of the boarding docks.

Davarax is on his feet before the attachment to the other ship is deemed secure by the Razor Crest’s sensors. Three blasters and an unseemly amount of explosives join his arsenal hidden in his armour.

It’s time to put all of his concern and anger into his weapons.

He goes for stealth at first. He needs to know where they are keeping Dulcy. And while Davarax knows he’s a skilled fighter, he’s just one man and this ship is crawling with soldiers. He needs to be clever about this and not let his anger rule him.

He’s told Din countless times to control his anger instead of letting his anger control him, and this is one of those situations where that could be the deciding factor of the outcome of the mission.

A drowsing guard is yanked around a corner and asked for information, but the guy isn’t much help and is left hidden inside a service closet. He is soon joined by two more.

It’s the fourth guard that finally gives Davarax the answers he is looking for.

Dulsissia Valentis is indeed on this ship. They are keeping Dulcy two levels below this one, in the last cell on the left side of the prison corridor. And there are plenty of guards.

There is no way he can get to her without being detected.

Davarax lets the guard fall to the floor and draws his blasters. Controlling your anger also means to know when it is time to let it loose.

It’s time.

-

It kind of becomes a red haze after that. Davarax makes his way through the soldiers and guards, using blasters and grenades and his flame thrower to remove them from his path, and every step brings him closer to Dulcy.

Nothing will stop him.

Nothing.

He plants several bombs in strategic places, aiming to injure the ship’s engines and computers as well as draw attention away from himself. Once that is in place, Davarax moves towards the door leading below and gets ready.

Davarax triggers the first two bombs. The ship shakes and groans and he heads below to face the minor army placed there to guard their precious cargo.

The first Trooper he sees standing there spins around at the sound of him and freezes with surprise.

Davarax fires his blaster and moves on to take down the next before the body has hit the floor. He triggers more bombs.

The ship’s siren starts blaring. It howls its long and loud warnings on all floors.

After that, blaster shots hits Davarax’ armour, shrapnel from enemy grenades and his own stabs at him, fists and bots do their best to hurt him, even a blade or two slices through his jacket, yet he keeps moving forward. He won’t stop unless he’s dead.

A well placed grenade takes out the light on the entire level, but instead of darkness his HUD has to adjust to the backup-lights flickering on and off as it appears the electrical system itself has taken damage.

Endless amounts of guards try to stop him. All of them visibly confused as they were under the impression that they are being invaded by a large group of enemies and all they see is one Mando. They soon are too dead to appreciate the lesson Davarax is teaching them: do not mess with a Mandalorian’s family.

Davarax removes a couple of soldiers trying to kill him with a well-aimed grenade and he turns a corner to see what he’s been looking for; the prison corridor.

“He’s here!” Someone shouts in the distance.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” A voice snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”

More soldiers rush forward to protect the owner of the voice.

Davarax removes obstacle (soldier) after obstacle (more soldiers), ignoring everything except his mission. He’s so lost in his anger and battle-haze that he’s not prepared for when he suddenly sees her there. Barely visible through the smoke and blaster shots sent his way, there is no mistaking her.

Dulcy.

Some obnoxious Imp officer is standing next to her, his one hand grabbing her arm and the other holding a blaster muzzle to her head. The officer looks scared. She does not. Her eyes are wide with surprise, yes, but her mouth softens into the faintest of smiles. Her hair is almost as wild as Raga’s and for some weird reason she’s wearing a fancy teal dress that probably costs more than the Razor Crest.

It would have eased Davarax’ anger, soothed the fire inside him, quenched his thirst for blood, seeing her standing there… if not for the blooming bruise on her face. There is a startling discolouring of the delicate cheekbone he’d trailed light fingertips over in a wordless display of love not too long ago...

Unbridled rage explodes inside Davarax. He’s going to rip Vecon Valentis apart!

Completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, Davarax merely keeps stalking towards Dulcy and the soon-to-be-dead-Imp, killing anyone who gets in his way. He’s so angry he can barely breathe. How dare they hurt her?!

-

A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. He then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it through the air and takes down the one guard left standing next to Dulcy and the Imp officer.

The red lights are still flashing, sirens are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is finally standing in front of Dulcy and Vecon Valentis. The Imp now looks downright terrified.

“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”

“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulcy says. She’s keeping her gaze locked on Davarax, unfazed by Vecon’s threat and the pain of her bruised face. His brave Dulcy. His heart. His light.

Not bothering to even look at Vecon, Davarax grabs the man’s hand holding on to the blaster and squeezes and twists it until he drops the weapon with a pained yelp. He’s mesmerized by Dulcy’s complete lack of fear and solid faith in him. She even uses the moment Davarax disarms her captor to break free and spin around to stand next to Davarax instead.

“Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. And if he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”

‘My family’. She said ‘my family’. It might be wishful thinking from Davarax’ side, but her choosing those words instead of just saying ‘me or my son’, it almost sounds like she means… him and the children? The anger deflates as wild hope floods Davarax instead and he glances over at the amazing woman next to him.

Dulcy is glaring at Vecon, who is bending over into an awkwardly twisted position due to the grip Davarax has on him, and she looks magnificent; beauty and fury. And there is no hesitation or trace of softness in her threat. She means it, she will kill Macero, and Davarax loves her even more.

“Tell him yourself.” Vecon sneers.

Davarax is distracted, entirely focused on Dulcy, and he pays the price. The Imp moves and a sharp pain follows as he drives a blade into Davarax’ side. Grunting, Davarax reacts instinctively; he draws his blaster and shoots.

Vecon Valentis is dead.

Dulcy doesn’t care. She seems indifferent to the man being killed and her being deprived of the chance to do it herself as payback for her bruised face. All she focuses on is getting to where the blade is planted deep in Davarax’ body. “Oh. Oh no. What-”

They have to leave. Now. The blade hasn’t done lethal damage but Davarax knows he won’t be able to fight for too long with this kind of injury. Blood-loss will weaken him. He yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to redirect her frightened gaze to his t-visor. “We have to go.”

She nods, a little stunned but ready to get out of there. Good.

Picking up Valentis’ blaster, he hands it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?” Blood is seeping through his underarmor and a burning pain is spreading. No time to deal with it as more guards are on their way for sure. He needs her help if they are going to make it.

She nods again. Worried, pale, but determined. She’s got his back. Just like he knew she would.

He loves her so much.

Together, they move, battle and make it back to the Razor Crest.

Stumbling into the cockpit and over to sit down in the pilot seat, Davarax brings the engines online and detaches them from the Imp ship as quick as possible. The bombs he’d set off earlier was to confuse the troops onboard and Davarax hopes they have caused enough damage to the engines for him and Dulcy to make their escape.

The Razor Crest does a slow turn, rolling over, Dulcy buckles herself into her seat, and with a strained shake of her entire hull; the Razor Crest gives a mighty kick and races off into the darkness.

-Run, Davarax pleads the ship. -Run as fast as you can, old girl. If that beast recovers enough to come after us, we’re all dead. So I need you to run with everything you got. Run!

And, again maybe it is his wishful thinking, Davarax swears he feels the ship give an extra burst and her speed increases even more as they race towards safety.

-

Only after forty three minutes and seventeen seconds of pushing the engines to the limit of what they can take, plus non-stop checking the radar to see if someone has decided to chase them and finding nothing, only then does Davarax dare to ease up and let the Razor Crest slow down while he leans back and exhales.

Adrenaline and stress leaves his body while exhaustion moves in.

This is also when Dulcy unbuckles herself and appears by his side to with an anxious expression on her beautiful face and her hands hovering a little undecidedly over his torso as if she can’t decide where to touch.

Her own bruised face appears forgotten to her. Davarax feels how guilt viciously collides with the relief of having her back. He reaches out, pulls Dulcy close and hugs her tight. “Are you okay?” Her bruised face is bad enough, more than bad enough, but what if… He will never forgive himself if...

“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulcy replies, too relaxed to be lying and she tries to push him away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”

Feeling her in his arms, alive and warm and there and forgiving him his failure, Davarax couldn’t care less about his own injuries. He can’t even feel them. All he can feel is her. All he cares about is her. The thought of letting her go after nearly losing her forever hurts. “In a moment.” Davarax’ throat is snared up so tight he has to whisper. “Please.”

And his heart shatters entirely when this incredible woman shivers, once, then wraps her arms around him and hugs him back. Davarax eases her over to sit on his lap where she curls as close to him as she can manage and he holds her as close as he dares.

He’d nearly lost her. This fact will haunt him for the rest of his life; a life he cannot imagine without her. She brought him out of his half-existence, comforted his children when he was unable to and Davarax had started to wake up in the mornings with hope instead of guilt and weariness.

Despite the ordeal she has been through, Dulsissia ignores her own hurt and says that they need to tell the Covert Macero will come for them so they can flee, but Davarax isn’t too worried. They have fought all kinds of governments before and won. He alone had taken on a Destroyer and gotten away with it today, just imagine what his entire Covert could do to a man stupid enough to challenge them.

Dulcy is not convinced, but they compromise and then her focus shifts to his injuries and that is something she will not compromise on. It’s odd to have someone care. Nice, but odd. He’s always tended to his injuries himself.

She fusses about his wounds and notes how Vecon held the blade all wrong to do fatal damage. His girl knows how to stab someone properly. His heart glows with pride.

Dulcy refuses to use the cauterizer and tries to order him out of the pilot seat. As much as he loves her authoritative voice, Davarax declines. He needs to keep an eye on the radar, just in case.

Another compromise is made and she ends up sitting on his lap while tending to his injuries.

It’s no big surprise when she asks about her son.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually makes Davarax laugh a little “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.” It feels almost too good that she’s back. He did it. She’s here. He didn’t fail her again.

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone, feeling the guilt gnaw at him again. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little. He had asked her to marry him and she had said no. It’s just… He wants them to be together, forever, so badly. He wants to be able to take his helmet off in front of her. He wants to kiss her lips and feel her hands on his face. He wants her to see his smile and how happy she makes him. He wants… What he wants doesn’t matter. As tempting as it is to ask her to at least reconsider, he won’t. He had asked and she had said no. Davarax is going to have to respect that.

Dulcy kissing his hand snaps him out of his thoughts just before she asks; “Would I what?”

Davarax exhales and lets go off his dream. He then tilts his head and tries to divert the conversation. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.” Vecon Valentis might have been a jerk, but looks to have had a sense of fashion.

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap to distract himself as well. “Definitely.”

-

When Davarax finally manages to contact the children over the comm system, it’s both a relief and painful torture. Relief in that Corin gets to talk to his mother, hear her voice and know she is safe, same with the other children, but Davarax is also tortured by guilt upon hearing their distress and knowing he is to blame. He had said Dulcy was safe and she had been ripped away from them.

His heart aches the most, however, when Dulcy, his sweet Dulcy, makes sure she hears the voice of every child to reassure them all, like the amazing mother she is. It makes him want to collect every neglected child in Galaxy and bring them to her so they can feel happy again too.

In the five hours it takes for them to return to Nevarro, Davarax persuades Dulcy to return to his lap and merely drowse in his arms until they land. It feels so good to hold her. He will happily share her with the children when they get back home, but for these hours, knowing everyone is safe, he will allow himself to be selfish and savour every second where it is just the two of them.

Stepping inside the Covert, Corin is in his mother’s arms before the door has closed behind them. The boy is clinging to his mother with desperate determination, eyes squeezed tight and his entire frame shaking. Dulcy is struggling to keep from crying and she’s stroking and kissing his dark hair, his cheeks and his forehead. It’s the kind of open affection that Davarax can only dream about...

Which means he is not prepared for Din running over to wrap his arms around his waist and burying his face to his stomach with a half-choked sound. His grip is frightfully strong. Surprised and humbled by the rare display of affection, Davarax runs a gentle hand over Din’s hair. While Din has eagerly soaked up every hug and encouraging pat Davarax has given him, this is the first time he has initiated a hug. It almost feels like Din had been equally scared of losing him as Corin had been about losing his mother. That… It’s…

Glancing over at Dulcy, trying to blink away the fog that appears to be assaulting his eyes, Davarax sees Raga and Barthor have joined Corin in her embrace. It seems wrong that Din should have to settle for him so he gently ushers the boy over to Dulcy as well and loves her even more at how quickly and naturally she includes Din with the others.

It would be perfect if only… Davarax’ heart sinks as he sees Paz standing there alone, arms crossed,  older than his years. He’s not been the same since the battle at the new Covert. It’s a part of growing up as a Mandalorian, but it still hurts to witness. Yet another thing he can’t protect them from.

Lost in thought, Davarax is then again not prepared as Dulcy unleashes Corin, Raga and Barthor in his direction and they all throw themselves at him with gusto. Davarax grunts at the impact when Raga actually jumps at his chest, Barthor smacks into his left hip and Corin to his right, Din’s arms goes back around his waist, all of them grabbing a hold and hugging him. Din laughs while Davarax staggers a step backwards and tries to pet each head, support Raga to prevent the little space-monkey from falling and not dislodge any one of them at the same time.

Dulcy walks over to stand in front of Paz. “No hug?”

“Kids first.” Is the stern reply.

She simply pulls him close, hugs him even closer and whispers something. Something that has Paz relax and hug her back. That woman must surely be a Jedi witch…

But Davarax doesn’t get to linger on the sight or speculate on her magical powers as he’s quickly distracted by Raga climbing up to perch on his shoulder and he has to support her with one hand while Corin decides to hang off his other arm, using him like a swing like he’d done during their initial meeting back on that smoke-covered planet. Din actually laughs.

“Maybe we can head inside?” Davarax asks, his voice a little strained under the children enthusiastically mistaking him for a playground.

Dulcy looks over at them and smiles like the angel she is. “Yeah, let’s go.”

-

They walk towards Dulcy and Corin’s room. She reminds him of the need to warn the Covert about the danger of Macero Valentis, but Davarax is in no hurry to see his sister just yet. And Davarax does not believe for one second that Valentis could be a threat to the Covert. If the foolish man was to try to attack, they would eat him alive.

Inside the room there is a whirlwind of exchange of information. Dulcy is as curious about how Davarax had been able to find her as the children are about what had happened to her. Corin gently touches the bruise on his mother’s face with agonized tenderness.

“It still sucks that Davarax had to go alone.” Raga states angrily. “He even had to defy ‘her’ to do it!”

Startled, Davarax doesn’t want Dulcy to know he’d raised his voice to his sister. “It’s late.” He states, stealing their attention away from Raga’s words. “You kids should head home.”

There is nothing but disappointed faces among the children, but there is one who looks downright… depressed. “Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Davarax’ heart clenches. He knows how tormented Din has been by the memory of how his birth parents had perished. He’s seen the raw fear in him whenever the boy sees an android. And when Dulcy sends him a pleading look, Davarax isn’t difficult to persuade. Sighing, he nods and starts to contact Din’s Mandalorian parents via his vambrace. “I’ll ask them” And they will say yes. He won’t settle for anything else. The boy needs a little cheering up after all this.

That triggers a landslide of requests to stay as well. Davarax adores those kids for how Raga meekly promises to behave and Paz finally reverting to his real age by demanding to stay if she gets to stay, yet Barthor’s quiet resignation awakens the anger in Davarax.

“My mom will never let me sleep over.” Barthor scoffs with bitter conviction.

Davarax feels his eyes narrow. “Want to bet?” Barthor is one of his kids. If Barthor wants to join the sleep-over, then Barthor will sleep over as well. He is just about to press the final button to contact Din’s parents when his beloved witch strikes again.

“How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

Davarax’ face snaps up to stare at her. She couldn’t have surprised him more if she’d slapped him across his bare face with a fish. “Say what now?” Nobody said anything about them sleeping over in his room, with explosives in every corner and the memory of Dulcy’s soft whimpers in his bed.

Din lights up with utter delight. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax clenches his jaw, Dulcy gives him the sweetest smile of fake innocence, and he folds with a heavy sigh. As if he can deny her or these kids anything. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

As expected, Din’s parents give their permission without much trouble. They trust Davarax.

Davarax fears he suffers permanent hearing damage after connecting with the Saxons and quickly blurts out his question.

There is a moment of silence before Raga’s mother states: “Anything she breaks, I’m not paying for it.”

“It’ll be on me.” Davarax replies, and then she starts screaming at either her husband or her sons and he just shouts his goodbye and disconnects.

Dez is a problem because of course he is. That man thrives on being difficult, especially around Davarax. If Davarax states something obvious, Dez will disagree just because he said it.

“A sleep over? Are you kidding me? My boy has put on the helmet. He doesn’t do kid stuff like that. I will not have you make my son soft, Davarax.”

“Dez…” Davarax has to take a deep breath and not lose his temper. “It’s a sleep-over. All his friends will be here. Don’t be such a hard-ass. Let the boy have some fun.”

“We are Mandalorians. We don’t do fun. Fun doesn’t make you into a great warrior.”

“A little fun never harmed a kid. He’s a kid, Dez. Helmet or not, he’s still a kid. Let him have this.”

“He should be training.”

“He is training. Every day. That boy is dedicated and you know it. He’s among the best fighters I’ve ever seen. Let. Him. Have. This.”

They bicker back and forth for a while and eventually Davarax manages to wear down the cantankerous man by a combination of nagging and bribery. It’s worth it when he can give Paz the thumbs up to show he’s allowed to stay as well.

And yet Dez Vizla is nowhere near as frustrating as Barthor’s parents. There is no room for negotiations, no compassion or empathy, just a stubborn ‘no’. Davarax tries everything. He flatters, he tries to bride, he tries to reason with them, he even gets dangerously close to pleading, but it doesn’t work. They won’t budge. They will not allow their son to have one simple sleep-over.

And that is when Davarax turns mean. Dangerously mean.

Thirty seconds later, he can give a very surprised Barthor a thumbs up.

-

That is how they end up gathering all there is off mattresses and blankets and pillows and march over to Davarax’ room. After hoarding and hiding away his weaponry, Davarax helps to arrange their haul all so his kids can be comfortable before he steps up next to Dulcy. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He scouts for where he can fit on the floor, have a good view of the door in case of danger and be close enough to the kids to keep an eye on them as well.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulcy states, as if it is the most natural thing in the world and her words doesn’t hit him in the gut like she’d fired a slugthrower. “The bed is for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry.” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulcy snaps, then she sends Davarax, who can’t stop staring at her, a puzzled look. “What?”

What? She’d just said they would share a bed, a bed with sinful memories, with the kids in the room and she’s asking him ‘what’?? Davarax shakes his head and looks over at the kids again to calm his stuttering heart. She can’t be that oblivious, can she? Well, he can handle this. He can-

“And would you mind taking the armour off?” Dulcy continues to torture him. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Closing his eyes, wondering what he’d done wrong to deserve this sweet punishment, Davarax manages a tiny nod.

He handles it like a champ. Davarax removes his armour, settles himself on the bed closest to the door to keep an eye on it and the children to ensure they are safe. Din often has nightmares and might need calming down, though he currently looks quite comfortable between Corin and Paz. Davarax got this. He can handle this.

Dulcy curls up next to him and rests her head on his chest.

He… He’s got… got this…

After a while, Dulcy lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” Davarax declares. She’s too close and too tempting for him to dare to breathe.

Dulcy giggles and that catches Corin’s attention. He pops his head up and asks what is so funny. If only he knew. Of course Davarax’ evil witch isn’t content with tormenting him solely by being this close to him. Oh no. She hoists herself up on her side and places her hand on his stomach. Her fingers dig gently into the fabric of his shirt and making it slide across his skin in a deliberate caress. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep”

Oh. Oh, this means war. Davarax reaches down and grabs a good handful of that divine behind of hers. He grins and savours her strangled squeak like the finest battle trophy.

Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia takes revenge by prodding two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds

He jolts with a muffled grunt. Oh, she is really pushing her luck right now...

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, so she places a hand to an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away. Davarax counters by using his other hand to grab the one she has to his chest and removing it before pulling her even closer. She squirms to free herself while they both struggle to muffle their laughter. Davarax can’t believe this is happening. He wasn’t this childish even when he was a child.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands amidst quiet laughter.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own snickering.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms and a warm peace settles in instead, Dulsissia finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling like they had done that very special night.

Looking at her face, seeing the warm affection in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and the trust in her features, Davarax considers just how lucky he is. How the smallest change in the past might have lead both him and Dulcy on very different paths. How he could have never known the happiness he’s feeling now.

Coincidence or fate, he doesn’t care, it had brought him and Dulcy together and nothing is ever going to tear them apart.

Not his sister.

Not Macero Valentis.

Not even a nightmare of a mercenary who specializes in collecting trophies...

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Shine

This one goes out to @phrenic-a who gave me the idea and the urge to explore a moment between Davarax and teen Barthor...

-

It’s Trub’s life day. He’s worn the helmet for an entire year now and is eager to celebrate with all of his friends. It’s a big deal. There are gifts for everyone, games, songs and stories. They even sneak off to gather in the fighting pit to test out the fancy fighting sticks Trub’s father had supplied. The air is filled with their laughter and it gets quite loud as just about every fourteen year old in the Covert is down there.

Just about, but not every single one.

Barthor sits at the back of the viewing seats high above the pit. He absently plots in complicated coding on the small datapad he’s holding while watching them pretend-fight and cheer each other on.

It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t invited. It’s not like he wanted to go to the stupid party anyway. Trub and his friends are all simpletons with barely a brain cell between them.

Barthor presses the screen a little harder.

There is movement on his right and Barthor almost freezes when Davarax sits down next to him.

“Are you okay?” Davarax asks, looking down on the laughing teens as well instead of staring at Barthor and demanding to know what he’s doing.

“I’m fine.” Barthor mumbles, then presses the final key and feels a faint flicker of smug satisfaction at the message that flashes on the screen. He’s in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be eating with your parents.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Davarax hums thoughtfully. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Barthor replies. He enters a command on the datapad and confirms it with a final touch.

Below them, Trub and his friends cry out in surprise as their HUDs all die and leaves them in darkness, as their systems has been sliced and ordered to shut down.

Davarax watches the chaos in silence for a couple of seconds. “Did you finish translating those corrupted files I sent you?”

“Yeah. Yesterday. It was easy.” Barthor feels strangely unamused by Trub running into another teen and both of them falling over as a result. He should be laughing at that. Why isn’t he laughing?

More shouting and confusion from the teens below. Panic is starting to enter their voices.

Eventually Davarax turns his helmet and his t-visor over at Barthor. “Listen, how about you and I try to finish that jetpack prototype tomorrow?”

That would be awesome. For a moment, Barthor feels a jab of happiness inside his chest. He loves the hours he and Davarax spend on their projects, but then he remembers something and the excitement dies a quiet death. Heavy disappointment takes its place. “You can’t. You are going out on a mission tomorrow. Remember?” Davarax had told them during training earlier today.

Davarax shrugs. “I’ll postpone it.”

Surprised, Barthor looks over at him. “What? Is that allowed? Can you do that?”

Davarax keeps his t-visor on him. “I can.” He tilts his helmet a little. “When there is something, someone, more important to focus on.”

Barthor can’t find his voice. His own parents can barely find five minutes a day for him, but Davarax will postpone a mission for the Covert, a mission given to him by their leader, just to spend time with him? Suddenly Barthor’s eyes are stinging and watering up. He has to bite his lower lip to keep it from trembling. Thank the stars for the helmet hiding his face.

Sighing as if in pain, Davarax carefully slides his arm around Barthor’s bony shoulders. “We can start early. How about that?”

Barthor sinks over to rest against Davarax and instead of resenting his height and muscles, it usually reminds him too much of how short and skinny he is himself, it feels like a safe place.

“It’s okay…” Davarax murmurs, running a soothing hand up and down Barthor’s arm. “It’s okay.”

They sit like that for a while, not talking, until Trub’s father appears below and guides the gaggle of distressed children off to someone who can help restore their systems.

Swallowing hard, Barthor waits until the kids are gone before he speaks. “I’m sorry.” He has covered his tracks, there’s no way they’ll be able to prove he sliced the systems, but Barthor knows they will automatically suspect him and will hassle Davarax with their complaints.

“Don’t worry about it.” Davarax replies, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He rubs Barthor’s arm again. “No one is hurt. No harm done. And a little justice was served.” He leans down a bit to have his voice closer to Barthor’s helmet. “When someone shines brighter than others, some people get jealous, Bar’ika. They get petty. Ignore them, okay? You just go on and you keep shining. Keep making me proud.”

Why couldn’t Davarax have been his father? Failing to hold back a half-choked sound, Barthor drops the datapad and flings his arms around Davarax in a fierce embrace that would have had his parents push him away.

Davarax merely hugs him a little closer. “Shine. You hear me?”

Barthor nods, unable to speak yet again. His fingers clutch an even tighter grip on Davarax’ jacket.

He can do that. He can shine. For Davarax.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What If... Tweets #2

-

-

-

-

Bonus:

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

AU Dulcy- if you could swipe one thing from your previous upper class life and share it with your current family, what would it be? (Can include goods or services)

AU Davarax- what was the biggest adjustment you had to make living a life without a helmet?

AU Dulcy: "We got enough credits to keep a roof over our heads, food in our bellies and the Crest flying, so I won't need any more of that. And most of the stuff I used to love, big dresses and shiny jewellery would be pointless in this life. So... the one thing I would love to introduce my real family to from my old life would be a day of proper pampering at one of the relaxation villas. I only took a couple of massage lessons, Dav deserves a proper one. Can you imagine him with a face mask? That would have to be holo-imaged forever. Same with my babies. Facials and hair done, manis and pedis, massages and saunas... Definitely!"

AU Davarax: "I think the biggest adjustment was no longer being me. By that I mean that I had defined myself for so long by wearing the helmet, existing only for the Covert and my sister's mission. My whole life was gone. I was banned from my home and the only existence I knew. Without the helmet I was no one and nothing, and I had to discover who the man behind the Beskar was. Luckily I happened to like what I found a lot better than the man I left behind."

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Incorrect Mandorin Quotes #3

Davarax: My students had a fight once and it went like this:

Paz: Anything that comes out of your mouth is stupid!

Din: Paz Vizla.

Davarax: To this day, I still laugh out loud in inappropriate settings because I randomly think about it.