Star Wars--So[m]ething Something Evil Rises (Jabba x Firesblood)

[Firesblood]

Sika voiced a non-committal grunt at Reynik’s assurances.  “I don’t care if you use it.  Marigon is meant to be focusing on using the Force in one way right now, and it’s not to send you hurtling across the room.”

The third fight went much the way the other two had; Marigon’s grasp on her calm faltered, made worse by the occasional remark that Sika threw at her whenever he felt she wasn’t doing something she should be doing.  All the while, the young woman took the verbal abuse in silence.  She knew what the older man was doing—why he had become so harsh with her since his return.  He had coddled her before, and she could admit to that.  Upon her arrival to Savat, the former Jedi had taken her under his wing and displayed all the grace and patience of the order from which he had come, but finding out she was to be sent right back into the rancor’s den that was the Empire had shined a bright light on how ill-suited she was to handle such a return—not to mention his own failure to properly train her.  She understood, but it was still a difficult thing to forgive.

By the time Sika called it a day, Marigon was aching in ways she hadn’t since Korriban.  Countless places on her body stung viciously from the burn of the practice sabers; Reynik hadn’t pulled a single punch, and she found that a part of her was grateful for that.  Too often, the few partners she had squared off against since coming to Savat had been hesitant, unwilling to strike—there was no honor in hitting a person who couldn’t see it coming.  She supposed that was why Sika had chosen him—he was a Sith like her, and Sith didn’t hesitate in the same ways that Jedi might.
 
She powered down her saber and bowed slightly at the waist to Reynik, before returning the weapon to the rack.  That she could tell, the Sith seemed completely unaffected, as if he had been out for a mere stroll rather than sparring.  She, on the other hand, was much the worse for wear. 

“We’ll begin again tomorrow after evening meal.  Thank you, Reynik, for your assistance,” Sika said, dismissing them both with a wave of his hand.  He didn’t return Marigon’s walking stick to her, and she didn’t ask for it. 

Instead, the young woman turned and limped slowly of the room, one hand extended out towards the wall just long enough to get her bearings before she began making her way back to her quarters

[Jabbathejack]

Reynik returned the bow to Marigon, although he knew damn well that she couldn't see it. He waited until she had left the room before he followed.

"Thank you." Reynik spoke up quietly. "I haven't had much chance to spar since I left Korriban."

Killing, yes. Sparring, no.

He paused before he continued; not everyone was open to suggestion, especially in this sort of situation. Even so, he felt that he would have more chance at surviving this mission if he kept Marigon as an ally.

"I found meditation useful with my concentration. If you need assistance..."

Reynik lifted a finger to push tentatively against the burn on his face, but he did not wince. It was not too bad.
"Where is the medical facility? I would be best off cleaning this before an infection creeps in."

Marigon would probably need it as well, but he left the insinuation unspoken.

[Firesblood]

When Reynik spoke, Marigon paused and looked in his direction, her features resolved once more into their usual placidness.  Of all the things she might have expected, gratitude for the fight was not one of them.  It would have been easy to dismiss it or make a derisive comment, but…no.  No, that wouldn’t do.  Despite her embarrassment at being beaten so thoroughly by someone who could so easily hold her weakness over her head, she realized that she was far more grateful for his approach than bitter. 

“…You are welcome.  Thank you for taking it seriously.  For…not holding back or…making it worse or more humiliating than it already is,” she murmured, struggling to find the words.  For better or worse, Sika had chosen Reynik to help train her.  Their fates would likely be intertwined for a time, given that they were meant to be returning to Cygius together.  Beyond their return she couldn’t say what would happen, but in the interim keeping civility between them seemed the best option.  Sith were a rarity in this place—currently they were the only two.  Perhaps sticking together wouldn’t be so bad; Mazelor was hardly the only one here with a chip on his shoulder.   

Reynik went one further and offered to help her with meditation, and a flicker of surprise skated across her features.  He didn’t have to do anything more than what Sika asked him to do, and yet he was offering to help her outside of the circle?  Why?  Sith rarely did anything that didn’t benefit them, so what was in it for him?  She thought to ask but resisted the urge.  Whatever it was, she was certain she would find out soon enough. 

“I would be grateful for your help,” She said instead.  She began walking again, glad that her room was not too far off.  Reynik asked about the medical facility and Marigon tilted her head slightly.  She had gotten him at least once with her saber; likely that was what he was worried about.

“Four levels below this one, and a mile down the left-hand corridor,” she said, stopping briefly until the door of her quarters slid open.  “All they will do is put a salve on it—I will share mine with you and save you the walk.  They gave me my own tin of the stuff after my sixth trip down for burns.”

Venturing forward into her room, some of the tension melted from her frame once in her personal ‘sanctum’, far surer of her movements and the placement of things there.  She went immediately to one of the many shelves built into the wall, fingers skimming over a metal tin briefly before she grabbed it and extended it towards him.  “Go ahead.  I’ll get mine after.”

[Jabbathejack]

"No point in not taking it seriously." Reynik shrugged. "That would help no one."

He fell into step beside her.
"Thank you." He murmured softly. "I would appreciate that. It is only minor, but burns have a habit of getting infected easily."

He kmew far too much about that. Reynik gave a sharp inhalation of breath as his face twitched violently. It wasn't the pain that he was worried about, but after what he had endured, he had learned to be careful.

He followed her into the room and stood in the centre, waiting.
"Thank you." He took the tin and opened it up, sliding a finger into the grease and smearing a little across the burn on the side of his face. It stung the wound, but he did not flinch.

It was something so simple; a small tin of medicated grease, but it made a world of difference. If he had been able to get something like that when he'd been injured before, then his life would have been very different.

Once he'd finished with the salve, he reached out and took Marigon's hand gently, putting the tin in her hand before he released her and stepped back into his original position in the centre of the room.

"Is now a good time for us to talk about meditation? If not, I can come back another time."