“Happy Life Day, Bentre.” A sweet voice rang through the scantily-decorated office. The Sith had always preferred it that way. He lifted his eyes from the flimsiplast and datapads strewn before him, knocking over a nearly empty and long-cold cup of stimcaf as he lifted a hand in slight surprise. Standing in the doorway to his office was the lithe and familiar form of his lover.
“Get out of here, Tash’,” the Corellian grunted, waving a stiff arm in her general direction. The motion drew little more than a playful smile from his fellow Equite. Her hands were behind her back, and there was a child-like bounce in her step as she approached his desk.
“Don’t be that way, *Benny.*” Her eyes sparkled as she used her pet-name for her former rival. His hazel eyes glared back, but her smile did not falter. “I brought you something *special* for the holidays!” Her words were so joy-filled they were practically lyrical. After a few moments of grumpy silence, Bentre’s expression softened ever-so-slightly.
“I get it, you aren’t going to leave me alone until you get to show me what it is.” Stahoes let out a weary sigh. “Look, I have lots of data to review to prepare for my report to the Summit. Not that you would know anything about that. You didn’t spend long enough in command of a Battle Team to do anything.” There was a bitter edge to his voice, which one might mistake for jealousy. It wasn’t only jealousy.
“Your office looks so drab and sad in this festive occasion, *Benny-boo*.” She stressed the last word, her tone becoming mischievous. Her smile grew the smallest bit larger as she brought her cupped hands in front of her. “It needs a little life day cheer!” She placed an object atop the pile of work materials, and stepped back. Now the desk contained datapads, lots of empty stimcaf cups, flimsiplast, and a very out-of-place looking wreath. Red flowers and green berries stood in stark contrast to the bare and utilitarian nature of the office. A matching red and green striped bow held the bottom center of the wreath together.
Letting out a slow sigh, Stahoes allowed himself to recline slightly in his chair. “Is there anything else you wanted as long as you are going to muck up my office space?”
These words seemed to disappoint the Twi’lek for a moment. There was a brief flash of hurt in her eyes. Still, her bubbly mood resurfaced quickly. The Marauder drew a breath, her smile becoming less evident. “I also came to give you something very special, Benny.” The joy in her voice was more subdued now, and there was a very tender untone to the words. As she had so many times before, Tasha’vel Versea drew a blade from the sheathe on her side.
The blade she withdrew was not Vishra’Reyal. Instead it was a more wicked-looking, slightly curved blade. The weapon lacked the exacting grace of the Twi’lek’s usual weapon. It was also decorated with cross-bands of blue and a number of blue gems along the hilt. Near the crossguard, the hilt had been branded with the Versea crest. The stylized profile of a wolf had been laid within the borders of the crest.
“To you, Bentre Stahoes, I want to impart Stavel’Adius. With this gift, I want to offer you a part and parcel to the estates of the esteemed Versea family, and with it a position as a peer and fellow in our clan.”
The Corellian’s eyes widened as the realization of what was going on finally dawned on him. “Wait, are you meaning-”
“Bentre, I want you to join in my clan, in my house, as well as my bed. For all your rough edges, you seem to be a good man. If anything, we cannot allow these little trysts to continue. If you and I are to be together, it must be done in a proper way.” Tasha’vel tenderly placed the weapon on the floor in front of the desk. “You will become the patriarch of the estate in place of my brother. We will be joined together in-”
“Marriage?” Stahoes seemed awed.
“Not exactly in the ways of Humans, but your feelings have already betrayed you.” Jumping across the desk, the Marauder scattered the desk’s contents, and threw her arms around the Shadow. Their lips met, and for the briefest moment, Bentre felt the closest thing to peace he had felt in months. When their lips parted, the Human looked deep into his fellow Sadowan’s emerald eyes.
“It won’t be the most stylish of relationships, I guess. However, I see no reason not to accept both gifts, with all the things they entail.” Bentre gave a rough attempt at a smile, but only ended up looking awkward. There was a long pause, almost stretching into an uncomfortable silence, before the Human spoke again. “So, who do we tell first?”