A Match for the Mandalore

Jennet



The next morning I woke with my healing ability completely restored, and feeling like my old self. I was crazy with the enforced rest, even if I unwillingly admitted I had needed it. I had energy now and couldn’t stand the thought of another day trapped in the hotel.



Canderous was already up; I felt him in the ‘fresher. I called a mental good morning and he replied with a deep grumbling sort of purr that made my toes tingle. I smiled, rolled over and spotted a small package on his pillow. It had a tag with my name on it; the handwriting was a small, untidy scrawl. I considered waiting for him to rejoin me but at that moment I heard the shower turn on, and realized he had done this on purpose; he wanted me to open it without him. Curious.



I love presents, I just never get them anymore; moving around constantly doesn’t allow one to easily make or keep friends. Besides, I try to travel light and not collect a lot of stuff that I might have to leave behind. Or get blown up, I thought sourly, remembering the lovely blade I’d lost. I didn’t think it was like Canderous to impulsively buy a gift that didn’t have some practical use. I ripped the package open, after first carefully removing the tag and tucking it away in my bag. It was the first time I’d ever seen his handwriting, and the first gift he’d given me that required a label; call me sentimental. I opened the little box, removed a bit of gauzy stuff and gasped.



The necklace was extraordinary, beautiful and original and sturdy and delicate all at once. I could wear it all the time and be reasonably sure it wouldn’t accidentally get broken; the clasp was strong, the chain thick enough not to snap easily. The chain itself was unusual, spiraled with multiple links intertwining like a delicate rope. The locket was simple and stunning. I flipped the catch, and saw a holo of Canderous mounted inside. He wasn’t smiling, or scowling, but I’d bet he’d been uncomfortable when it was taken. It was such a Canderous look on his face I started to sniffle. Then I saw the cat and the swords and started to cry in earnest.



You don’t like it, Wildcat? I heard his anxious voice in my head.



I love it, I sobbed back. It’s beautiful.



But you’re crying…His mental voice was uncertain and, being Canderous, a bit irritated.



I’m HAPPY, you idiot! I wailed back.



If you say so, he answered dubiously.



I fastened the gorgeous thing around my neck and went into the ‘fresher, slipping into the shower with him. I grabbed his face with both hands and showed him just how happy I was. He relaxed, and kissed me back ferociously. Pulling back a little, he touched the locket.



“It looks just right there.”



“It’s beautiful. Thank you, love.” I kissed him again.



It took a while to get out of the shower.



We spent the day walking around Nar Shadaa, talking about everything and nothing. He was teaching me to speak Mandalorian and I was picking it up quick enough to bemuse both of us. I’m not particularly gifted at languages. I can understand most common Republic ones to get by, and Force ability helps a lot with understanding, if not actual translation. I’d grown up speaking my parents’ home dialects, of course. But being able to tune in to your instructor’s very thoughts was an invaluable asset in learning an unfamiliar tongue. I had picked up some when I’d spent time with a couple of Mandalorian mercenaries out of Tatooine a few years back, and that helped too.



“How did that happen, anyway?” Canderous asked curiously.



“I had gone to Tatooine to check out the desert hunting; I was tired of bounties and not getting anything good anyway. I got my license, but it was too late in the day to bother going out, so I hit the cantina to wind down before hitting the sack. A brawl broke out – big surprise,” I grinned, and Canderous snorted. “I was going to just cut out of there; it was no problem of mine. But I was sitting in a far corner where I could see most of the room, and got trapped there. A couple of drunks started trying to be gallant and protect me. I appreciated it, told them so, but next thing I knew they were unconscious, and a couple of slimy characters were trying to grab me. By the time the dust settled, me and two mercs were the only ones left standing; even the bartender was out cold. We got the hell out of there, and they were impressed by my fighting, started asking questions, and if I could teach them.”



Canderous made a derisive sound in his throat. “Sure, and that’s all they wanted?” He lowered his brows, glowering.



I elbowed him lightly. “I didn’t even know you then, love. And no, of course not. I’m not stupid…I can tell when a man is thinking of opportunity. So I let them try, and kicked their asses. They were very respectful after that.”



“I’ll bet,” Canderous snorted.



“I was surprised at how well we got along, once the boundaries were established. They had heard of a good job, and asked me along. They didn’t have a ship, I did, so we took that job together. Spent six months as a team. They taught me a lot about Mandalorian combat, and I showed them a few moves. We got along very well.”



“Did you sleep with them?”



“No.” I said, and glared at him.



“Good,” he growled. Then he paused. “Why not?”



“What is this about, really?” He was blocking me, and I was getting irritated. He knew I wasn’t a virgin, and he certainly wasn’t. I knew he was the jealous type, but it was unreasonable to feel that way about relationships I’d had before I met him.



His face was the blankest I’d seen it. He paused to collect his thoughts. “I hate the thought of anyone touching you but me, for one. I know whatever you did in the past is just that – the past. But I hate it all the same.”



“And for two?”



“Huh?”



“You said ‘for one’; that implies there’s at least a ‘two’, possibly more.”



“Well…” he actually looked uncomfortable. “Mandalorian politics.”



“Excuse me?”



“If you traveled with Mandalorians, and they ever show up on Dxun…things might be…assumed.” He was still blank-faced, but a hint of agitation was spilling through.



I stopped walking, and turned to face him, stone-faced. “You’re not upset if I had slept with them so much as it might cause trouble for you as Mandalore?” I said carefully.



“No. I’d actually be more upset about you having slept with them. But like I said - it was past, and I’m not a total jerk; I’d get over it.”



I unraveled this hypothetical statement and concluded that he simply was possessive enough not to be thrilled with any past relationship of mine. If I was honest, I knew that already. I wasn’t in the mood to be honest, or fair. I was starting to be extremely pissed.



He certainly isn’t being fair, I thought angrily.



“So,” I said, again very carefully, “Since I didn’t, you’re not upset with me over that, but are upset with me because people will assume I slept with them, and that would, what, make the Mandalore appear weak? Even though this happened years before I met you?”



“I’m not upset with you.”



“You’re doing a damn fine job of appearing so,” I snapped.



“You’ve summed up the situation, yes. But I trust you; you said you didn’t, so I have no problem. My people wouldn’t be so reasonable.”



“REASONABLE?!” I shouted, outraged.



He looked honestly startled at my outburst. It would have been funny if I wasn’t incredibly pissed off. Then I saw him start to get mad. I didn’t care; I’d kicked his ass once, I could do it again.



“I’m trying to explain my culture. You’re the one not trying to understand.” He was still calm, but his face was starting to flush.



“You expect me to understand why I’m at fault for something I didn’t do, years before I met you?” My voice had risen to a bellow.



“I expect you to understand my position as leader, and respect it,” he ground out.



“You think I don’t?” I snarled.



“I think you don’t know enough about Mandalorians to grasp how damaging this could be to us.” His voice was starting to rise too.



“If I’m going to be tried and convicted for something that didn’t happen and I didn’t want it to, then you’re damn right I don’t grasp the concept!”



“As the Mandalore’s wife, you need to!” Canderous shouted.



“WIFE?” I yelped, thrown.



“You’re my wife, I won’t have you talked about like some cantina whore!” Canderous had balled his hands into fists and was nose to nose with me, snarling into my face.



“WHORE?!” This was too much; I completely lost it. I punched him hard enough across the face to rock his head back.



As he resumed his angry stance, I grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked his face down said in a low, fierce, deadly voice: “For your information, Mandalore, I have had only five lovers in twenty-five years, including you. I was eighteen the first time. That averages less than one a year. As to why I didn’t sleep with your kin - I was not about to sleep with one partner, let alone two, and I’m not into threesomes. I didn’t like either of them well enough even if I didn’t have scruples. I slept with my sword and blaster by my side for four months, just in case your buddies got fresh. I’ll give them points that neither of them ever tried. If that offends your precious sense of honor, then you can go to hell. If that makes me a whore to you or any of your kin, you can take this wife thing and shove it up your ass. Consider it a divorce.”



I shoved him back, hard, and spun sharply to leave. He grabbed my arm to stop me.



“Jennet,” he started, his voice low.



“Let go of me, or I’ll make you.” I was already reaching for my sword.



“No.”



I stomped on his foot, elbowed him in the gut, and yanked my arm free as he loosened his grip. Quick as thought, I drew my weapon and whipped around, my sword to his throat.



“The whore is leaving.”



And he smiled. The son of a bitch smiled.



“Gods I love you, woman.” He said, starting to laugh.



“Don’t get used to it,” I spat.



Very carefully, he lifted a hand and moved the sword tip away from his neck. “I came close enough to having my head removed the other day. I don’t advise threats you don’t mean.”



“I did,” I said tightly.



“Do you have any idea how magnificent you are, holding a blade to my throat and spitting like a wildcat?” his voice was deep and there was a smile in his eyes.



I sheathed my sword and glared at him.



“Wildcat.” His voice was caressing.



“I thought my new name was whore,” I said coldly. “I can think of a few for you.”



“I don’t think you’re a whore. I shouldn’t have said that. And if I have anything to say about it, no one else will either.”



“Gee, thanks. Nice to know I won’t be an embarrassment.” I was close to tears now and would be damned if I showed it. I was blocking so hard I was getting a headache.



“So you don’t want a divorce?”



I refused to answer that.



“Your past doesn’t matter. You’re my mate, and no one will doubt it. If your former companions find their way to us, it will make no difference, I swear it.”



“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I said flatly. “They’re dead.”



His face stilled. “I see.”



“You might have found that out before you started calling me names.” I looked away, staring at the nearest doorway.



He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. His voice was very quiet. “I’ve wronged you. I apologize.”



I looked back, and tears were starting to cloud my vision. Before I could say anything, he asked softly, “What were their names?”



I did start crying then, and he pulled me to him. “Daxon Ondi and Jareth Adso.”



He rested his face on my hair, and sighed. “I knew Dax; he was a good man. He was with me during the war.”



“He never mentioned you.” I was sniffling and wiped my nose on my sleeve.



“Probably not by name. I was his commanding officer. How did they die?” he asked, almost gently.



“We had taken a job as security for a cantina in this space station out near Taris. The station was a rough place, been built by the Republic but eventually was abandoned because it was too close to the smuggling trade routes and too far out to maintain order. A Hutt eventually took it over.”



I felt Canderous nod against the top of my head. “Yeah, I know the place.”



“The Cantina owner was a good man, just down on his luck and couldn’t afford to relocate. He saw us fight in the battle ring and needed some muscle to keep his bar from being decimated every night. We agreed to stay for a while, and the pay was good. We had that place running smooth in a week,” I said with pride, but still choking back tears. Canderous made a soothing noise, rubbing my back.



“It was going great, until the Hutt decided his cut wasn’t big enough, and sent his ‘business manager’ and a bunch of mercs in to collect,” I continued. “Davin simply didn’t have it, tried to make a deal, but the mercs started shooting, and everything went to hell. Dax and Jareth died protecting Davin. I was across the room; I fought like crazy, but when I got to the bar, all three of them were dead. They had taken down five of the eight mercs, but the whole damn cantina got into the fight, and by the time I could get there…” I swallowed.



When I could speak again, I concluded, “Some of the regulars I was friendly with smuggled me out; one of them had access to departure codes, and helped me get to the ship and away. The Hutt wouldn’t have let me live. They were my friends, and I couldn’t even bury them.” I cried harder, soaking his shirt.



I had cried for Jareth and Dax that day, but not since. I had shut it away, and tried not to think about it after I had given them a memorial service of sorts. Two of the things I kept in my credit pouch were the clan brooches they had been wearing, with the vague idea that if I ever ran across family of theirs I could tell them what had happened. Mostly, though, I had kept them to remind me of when I had friends. I took them out and showed the brooches to Canderous. He touched them briefly, and I saw him close his eyes for a moment.



When he spoke, it was regretful. “I’m sorry, Wildcat. There was nothing you could have done. They died in battle, protecting their boss. It was a good death, for them.”



“I know…but it hurts anyway. They were good to me, and for a while I wasn’t alone.” I sniffled again, and Canderous kissed my forehead.



“You’re not alone anymore,” he said.



“No,” I whispered.



And we never will be again.



I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped blocking him. Never, I answered.



We resumed our walk, holding hands. He wasn’t used to it, I could tell. We were mostly silent, occasionally speaking aloud, but largely communicating without words. It was amazing how comfortable it was. In only three days he was closer to me than anyone ever had been or will be. Once I’d completely gotten a hold of myself, I turned to him.



“So, what’s with this wife thing?”



He looked at me, then away. “I hadn’t meant to say that yet.”



“You did, though. You didn’t say, ‘future wife’, you didn’t say ‘when you’re my wife’, you said ‘you’re my wife’. Along with ‘as the Mandalore’s wife’. You followed up with calling me a cantina whore, so maybe I didn’t hear it properly.”



He winced. “How many years will it be until you stop mentioning that?”



“Oh, about never.” I smiled wickedly. “As for ‘wife’, I don’t recall you asking.”



“I wasn’t going to until after the mission, actually. I wanted to wait until we didn’t have that over our heads.” He sounded casual, but I wasn’t fooled.



I looked at him, not sure how to ask what was on my mind without sounding snippy. I couldn’t, so just said “Were you really going to ask, or just tell me where and when to show up?” I strove for a light tone. He glanced at me sharply, then relented.



“I was going to ask. I didn’t consider you’d say no, though, let alone ask for a divorce so soon.” He was teasing, but his voice was sober. “I wanted to do it better. I admit I hadn’t worked out a plan yet. I’ve never had to before and didn’t want to mess it up. So much for that idea.”



“But you said I am your wife.”



“You are, to me.” He said simply. “The moment I knew you were my mate, I thought of you that way. I’m not fool enough to think you did as well. Although that little scene at the fight ring pretty much confirmed you do accept you’re my mate.”



I shivered at the memory, and nodded. “I went crazy because they had tried to kill you. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I know somewhere in there was the thought that they had tried to murder what was mine. I’m pretty sure ‘mate’ was in there too. ‘Husband’, however…I think at the time, and now, it’s just that it’s not an adequate word to describe who and what you are to me. You’re more than that. I don’t need the legal part of it.”



He looked at me, his blue eyes fathomless. I felt so many emotions off him, running like quicksilver. I’d hurt him a little, and hadn’t meant to. I tried to convey my regret and apology, and I felt the acceptance.



“Well,” he said quietly, “I do.”



We regarded each other, then I said softly, “Then I do too.”



He could feel that I wasn’t humoring him, or making a compromise. He needed it, and that made it my need too. Simple as that. I kissed him, tasting the flavor of his heart, and he held me, strong and safe and his.



“Jennet Jax, will you do me the honor of consenting to be my wife?” His voice was husky, and his eyes were very bright.



“Yes. Oh, yes,” I answered.