The young warrior stalked through the encampment, determined and confident. It was only half false.
She would ask tonight.
She could wait no longer.
The next day would see her first battle, would see her truly face herself. What it meant to face death. What it meant to fight. What it meant to be Mandalorian.
Her lungs burned cold with every breath of evening air.
It left her sharp and alert.
Perhaps that too was false, nothing but an illusion.
She tugged her helmet on and paused to check her weapons again.
The battle was in her blood and bones. It called to her, as it called to each of them.
War, she was not certain she was ready for war.
Would she falter in the face of the enemy?
Would her heart stutter at the sight of such death and destruction?
They faced no simple bounty, no mercenary group, no criminal faction.
An Empire, incomprehensible in its size.
It was no small thing to face such an enemy.
Some might have called it foolish, insane and doomed from the start.
She called it very Mandalorian.
Her people had never had much respect for odds.
Would she see the end of everything?
The time drew near. No time for second guessing. She would not run, she would not hide. She was Mandalorian and even if she was a coward in the face of death she would find that out on the battlefield.
As she approached her destination her nerves began to spike.
It could wait couldn’t it?
No.
Live each day to its fullest.
Face life without regrets.
Die fighting if you can.
She would ask, she was not a coward.
She shook out her hands, willing the nerves away.
Only a tent flap between them.
She moved to enter only to be caught by the hand and dragged in.
Taller than her, movements smooth and practiced, her love.
Her nerves must have shown. For in a moment, her love had tilted her head down to carefully touch their foreheads together.
“Oh, you will do wonders, Cyar’ika.”
She wasn’t sure where the confidence came from, whether she deserved the outpouring of love her beloved gave her each time they spoke.
An accomplished warrior already, even so young, from a proud and large house.
In stark contrast to her own near non-existent clan and pitiful bounty hunting record.
They had met around the fire, not even weeks ago.
A tall and graceful warrior had asked if the spot next to her was taken.
She could not deny her, the most beautiful person she had ever seen.
The way her brown eyes had danced in the firelight, the way her braids had swayed as she laughed, the way her dark skin had seemed to glow in the low light of the dawn, the way she had smiled like a rookie bounty hunter turned soldier was someone to be loved.
She had always dismissed the stories of love at first sight, the romantic warriors saying the vows in battle.
Nothing but a pretty fantasy.
She could have spent the rest of her life with her beloved one and never regret it for a moment.
She had known she was lost the moment her love had teasingly called her Cyar’ika around the cooling coals of that fire.
She had realized it was forever the moment she had impulsively shouted Cyare back and saw the way her eyes widened with joy.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight?” Came the quiet question.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Stay up with me?”
“Alright.”
They sat together, leaned back against a large chest in front of the small heater. Hand in hand, neither quite sure what to say.
The night outside was chilly and forbidding but neither of them felt a bit of it, warm and safe for at least the moment.
She considered, in her love’s arms, the future.
She wondered if they would see each other again.
Her love would face leadership, a squad of loyal soldiers at her back. While she would face battle as a simple member of another.
She knew little of war but she did know this, it was never fair, it was never kind.
She leaned in closer to her love. Thinking of all the things she adored her for. Her confident bearing, the way she never second guessed a step, her smile.
She could imagine the way her braids swayed with every step. The sight of her chewing slightly on her bottom lip in thought, a nervous habit hard to break when there’s no one to see.
She saw it though, the way she measured her words and grinned without shame. She had been welcomed into her life so completely.
Would the morning see her saying goodbye for the last time?
She did not know if she would be any good at war, that was something that could not truly be known ahead of time.
Even then, what did skill matter in a conflict where luck may save or doom you just as easily as anything else?
“Something on your mind Cyar’ika?”
She startled out of her thoughts, blushing once she realized she’d been caught staring at their hands.
“Ah, um, nothing.”
“Really?”
Oh, she was definitely grinning now.
“There’s nothing? Are you certain?”
“Fine…” She groaned. “I was thinking about tomorrow.”
She sobered. “What about it?” She asked quietly.
“I don’t know, I think I’m just nervous. I’ve never been in a war before Cyare.”
“Me neither Cyar’ika.”
She dropped her hand and started to pick at her gloves absently, an odd trait in someone usually so confident.
“I’m afraid, a little, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to lead.” Her beloved admitted.
“I don’t know, I think you’re strong enough, I think you’re amazing, but I don’t know.”
“It’s all a little terrifying isn’t it?”
“Yes, I don’t know how to stop being terrified.”
Her love shrugged and laughed, a little breathlessly. “I wish you knew, then you could tell me.”
“Yeah…”
She leaned closer.
“They are so much bigger than us.”
“Yeah,” Her mind wandered to marching soldiers and massive ships, to the fact she could hardly remember a time before. “They really are.”
The elders spoke sometimes, of old regrets and bitterness. Of the old factions and the Civil Wars. Some spoke of a glorious, blameless conqueror defeated by foolish, weak idealism. Some of a peaceful, hope-filled future destroyed by suicidal terrorists. Some spoke of outsiders, meddling in places they had no business.
She wasn’t sure, and after all, what did fault matter in the end?
They had no time for fault.
She breathed in deep and slow and let it out in a long sigh.
She didn’t want to face war without her love at her side, she didn’t want to face anything without her.
She had been avoiding what that meant.
She couldn’t do it anymore.
She was a Mandalorian.
The battle was in her blood and in her bones.
A Mandalorian did not shy away from these things.
She fought for what she wanted, not just in battle.
She took a shaky breath, and let it out.
“Cyare… would you… that is…” Why was it so hard? “Tomorrow… I do not want to live or die with regrets…”
It felt like her gaze was piercing her soul, she carried on anyway.
She would not face battle with this fear in her heart.
“Would you say the riduurok with me?”
It felt like all the breath had left her, there would be no going back, not after this.
She almost couldn’t bear to look.
She forced herself to watch her love’s expression. She watched as concern turned to shock transformed into tentative joy.
“Cyar’ika? Do you mean it?”
She jerked her head in a nod, almost unable to speak.
They whispered the oath to each other, spoken softly in the space between them.
The words mingled in the air, between each breath they shared.
It felt strangely anticlimactic.
A few short sentences and they were sworn to each other, for however long they lasted. She giggled suddenly, breathless and bubbling over with affection. Her love caught her lips in her own and she smiled into it.
They separated enough to rest their foreheads together, basking in the breathless joy.
She had to tell her, no matter what, they would be together.
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”
Her love whispered it back to her and she knew.
She knew that no matter what the next day would bring, she would fight to see her love again.
She would fight and kill to see another sunrise.
They would be one together and one apart, as the vows said.
They would face the battle as warriors, as Mandalorians, as beings with someone to return home to.
They wordlessly settled on exchanging tadun'bure, she mourned for a moment they had no time to choose and reforge another piece but she would settle for defending her love in this way.
The consequences of going into battle with unfamiliar weapons or ill fitting armour was too great to risk.
She cuddled up closer and laid her head on her love’s shoulder. If she wasn’t mistaken her leg felt warmer than usual, cradled in her love’s protection.
They would fight for a new dawn, free as their people were always meant to be.
She could only hope it would be enough.