Two people stood, one male, one female. At first glance, they could have been brothers, both clad in like armor. One, the female's, was a burnished grey with oceanic blue insets. The male's shared the base color, but his markings, less elaborate by far, were a simple red. They stood overlooking a ruined city, a world in flames and a culture stamped out under the iron heel of war.
"We can't do this. I have to go, Thomas." Melanie tried to keep it formal, she tried to hide the husky, desultory purr of her words. Words that had lulled so many to a final sleep, soft moans and short gasps that had ended so many, so very many lives.
"Why?" Thomas, when he spoke, stepped closer and brushed a few fingers along the woman's sanguine curves, the arch of her hip that even beskar armor couldn't hide.
"I can't drag you down into this. Look at what this is, Tom! F*cking look!" Wildly, she gestured around them, the ruined scene set against a moon that reflected fire and blood, so much blood. "They'll hunt me, forever, for what we've done. It has to stop." She didn't shrink away from the touch, she leaned into it. He'd always been a pillar of support, something to hold close. The feel, the gesture, they were all so familiar, so comforting in all of the wrong ways. This pair bought moments with hours together, short respites between hateful periods.
"Melanie, we can go, we can run together, we'll lea-..."
"Shut up, shut up, stop! What are you saying?" She could have slapped him for his words, his blasphemy. Her voice fell into the low hiss of a coiling viper, the dangerous, deadly calm that hid the storm. "Leave this? I'm a Claw, Thomas, a True Mandalorian. Don't you ever forget that."
"Then what did it all mean, Melanie? What are you, some whore, nothing more, nothing less? Just a whore that gets what she wants, right? Gets it and leaves, right?" As soon as he'd spoken, he knew he did it. He knew he'd pushed her away again, he'd thrown her away from him when she was so very close.
Melanie's eyes, sea foam green, the color of stormy waters on a a murky night, fell to the ground beneath them even as she turned away and stepped in the opposing direction. "You know, Tom, I used to stand here when we were young and I used to think that, on the moon, there was a world with gardens we could walk in, no armor, no war, just people being people."
"Wha-..." The words, the confession, left Thomas reeling for words.
"Shush, Tom, let me say this before I go. I used to think that, and I used to think we could go, when we were younger. Years ago, I thought that was true. It can't be that way. You're a Mandalorian, I'm True, Pure. I can't drag you into what I've got to do or what I've become." Halting, her voice nearly broke. "I love you, Tom, but I won't do it, I can't. I won't watch this happen again and I won't be part of it. You'll kill me, you'll make me weak, I wont let that happen, Tom. I won't put my death on your shoulders, you don't deserve that. You deserve...." She stopped and choked back a sob, a long, rasping noise that was barely human, so deep were the self imposed cuts. "Better."
"Stop, please? Don't go, don't do this. You can't, you cant leave me alone." Thomas was reaching for straws, reaching to her ancestral pride. "We'll start again, have kids, make a new breed, a new race." He was wrong, again.
"You think I'm some whore, willing to have children for something so trivial? We'd all just die anyways, Tom. We're going to die, all of us."
"What broke you? What took that vision away?" He asked the dangerous question. In all the years they'd lied to each other, he'd never dared to know her that well. She had, at this moment, every right to kill him for his assumption. He expected she would.
Instead, she turned back, violently, but with no ill intention, and fell into his shoulder, pouring years worth of tears onto war scarred armor, coated in dried blood and ash. "I love you, that's what broke me. I love you, I know I can't have you and you can't have me. That's what took it away."
"Then let's make it right! Now, let's do this, now." Thomas was pleading, he was soon to watch the most beautiful woman, the most complex creature, so deliciously teasing, so painfully vague, walk away from him forever. He knew she'd go, it was a matter of when. Maybe he could buy another night lost under her curves and within her luxurious sprawl. "No, Mel, please don't make me watch you leave."
"Then close your eyes, Tom." She pulled away, but not before she laid a final kiss along the side of his helmet, where his cheek should have been. "The gardens are all dead, we are all dead. They'll die as well, but that's what broke me. I tried to love you, I did. I tried, but we never watered the flowers."
With no more words, not even a glance backwards, she stepped off of the cliff's face and fell among the ruined streets she'd once called home. A voice, from below, her voice, rose.
"Do me one favor, Tom. Don't forget this night, ever. Don't forget me. I won't forget you. You are eternal, in my mind." She went in search of something, though she'd never tell a soul what it was, much less him. In a home along the outside of the city, she searched through smoldering ruins until she found a small picture, a young woman and a man in a hidden wedding, a blissful moment lost in the fury that is Mandalore's children. The picture was stuffed into a pocket, held close to her heart even as she turned her back on all she had known, all she had lost, all that had been stolen and taken by those she'd relied so heavily upon.
"We can't do this. I have to go, Thomas." Melanie tried to keep it formal, she tried to hide the husky, desultory purr of her words. Words that had lulled so many to a final sleep, soft moans and short gasps that had ended so many, so very many lives.
"Why?" Thomas, when he spoke, stepped closer and brushed a few fingers along the woman's sanguine curves, the arch of her hip that even beskar armor couldn't hide.
"I can't drag you down into this. Look at what this is, Tom! F*cking look!" Wildly, she gestured around them, the ruined scene set against a moon that reflected fire and blood, so much blood. "They'll hunt me, forever, for what we've done. It has to stop." She didn't shrink away from the touch, she leaned into it. He'd always been a pillar of support, something to hold close. The feel, the gesture, they were all so familiar, so comforting in all of the wrong ways. This pair bought moments with hours together, short respites between hateful periods.
"Melanie, we can go, we can run together, we'll lea-..."
"Shut up, shut up, stop! What are you saying?" She could have slapped him for his words, his blasphemy. Her voice fell into the low hiss of a coiling viper, the dangerous, deadly calm that hid the storm. "Leave this? I'm a Claw, Thomas, a True Mandalorian. Don't you ever forget that."
"Then what did it all mean, Melanie? What are you, some whore, nothing more, nothing less? Just a whore that gets what she wants, right? Gets it and leaves, right?" As soon as he'd spoken, he knew he did it. He knew he'd pushed her away again, he'd thrown her away from him when she was so very close.
Melanie's eyes, sea foam green, the color of stormy waters on a a murky night, fell to the ground beneath them even as she turned away and stepped in the opposing direction. "You know, Tom, I used to stand here when we were young and I used to think that, on the moon, there was a world with gardens we could walk in, no armor, no war, just people being people."
"Wha-..." The words, the confession, left Thomas reeling for words.
"Shush, Tom, let me say this before I go. I used to think that, and I used to think we could go, when we were younger. Years ago, I thought that was true. It can't be that way. You're a Mandalorian, I'm True, Pure. I can't drag you into what I've got to do or what I've become." Halting, her voice nearly broke. "I love you, Tom, but I won't do it, I can't. I won't watch this happen again and I won't be part of it. You'll kill me, you'll make me weak, I wont let that happen, Tom. I won't put my death on your shoulders, you don't deserve that. You deserve...." She stopped and choked back a sob, a long, rasping noise that was barely human, so deep were the self imposed cuts. "Better."
"Stop, please? Don't go, don't do this. You can't, you cant leave me alone." Thomas was reaching for straws, reaching to her ancestral pride. "We'll start again, have kids, make a new breed, a new race." He was wrong, again.
"You think I'm some whore, willing to have children for something so trivial? We'd all just die anyways, Tom. We're going to die, all of us."
"What broke you? What took that vision away?" He asked the dangerous question. In all the years they'd lied to each other, he'd never dared to know her that well. She had, at this moment, every right to kill him for his assumption. He expected she would.
Instead, she turned back, violently, but with no ill intention, and fell into his shoulder, pouring years worth of tears onto war scarred armor, coated in dried blood and ash. "I love you, that's what broke me. I love you, I know I can't have you and you can't have me. That's what took it away."
"Then let's make it right! Now, let's do this, now." Thomas was pleading, he was soon to watch the most beautiful woman, the most complex creature, so deliciously teasing, so painfully vague, walk away from him forever. He knew she'd go, it was a matter of when. Maybe he could buy another night lost under her curves and within her luxurious sprawl. "No, Mel, please don't make me watch you leave."
"Then close your eyes, Tom." She pulled away, but not before she laid a final kiss along the side of his helmet, where his cheek should have been. "The gardens are all dead, we are all dead. They'll die as well, but that's what broke me. I tried to love you, I did. I tried, but we never watered the flowers."
With no more words, not even a glance backwards, she stepped off of the cliff's face and fell among the ruined streets she'd once called home. A voice, from below, her voice, rose.
"Do me one favor, Tom. Don't forget this night, ever. Don't forget me. I won't forget you. You are eternal, in my mind." She went in search of something, though she'd never tell a soul what it was, much less him. In a home along the outside of the city, she searched through smoldering ruins until she found a small picture, a young woman and a man in a hidden wedding, a blissful moment lost in the fury that is Mandalore's children. The picture was stuffed into a pocket, held close to her heart even as she turned her back on all she had known, all she had lost, all that had been stolen and taken by those she'd relied so heavily upon.