Song: "Padmé's Ruminations" from Revenge of the Sith OST

Grief fit him like old, wet linens, squelching against his scales as he docked off at Abesmi. He hugged his cloak tight to his body, unaccustomed to the bone-freezing cold of the sacred ground.

Passing through the new Yamikhi tribe and finding a boy there who swore to return to the Kharankhui with him to serve at his side, sailing frosty seas alone for a standard week....it was no matter to him. She was worth every pain, every moment of suffering amidst the waves. If he could hold her just for a few minutes, to give her a proper goodbye, nothing would be in vain.

But can I say goodbye to her?

The images of kissing her—of living with her and loving her and protecting her forever—of someday helping her birth their children and raising them with her—of growing old with her and exploring the galaxy....maybe even visiting Coruscant with her....

Every dream went up in smoke, and he hugged his chest as sharp pain stabbed through his torso, congregating in one area around his chest. Her kiss was like poison now.

Snow crunched beneath his feet as he bowed in the center of the ancient circle on the tiny island, the closest the Kaleesh could get to the dead. A single tear found its way down his face. Every moment with her—the battles against the Yam'rii invaders where they defended one another, the sweet kisses against her moon-pale scales, the joyous glint in her eyes each time she sank a sword into the wicked Huk—sank into his scales like frozen rain.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please...." The air chilled his lungs, and he sputtered a cough onto the snowy ground. "At least let me see her one last time."

The wind laughed as he slammed his fists down. "I submit myself to whatever you ask. I submit."

The wind whistled around him like her voice when she imitated birds, and the distant sea curled into ebony waves. The summer skies looked like her perfect scales, gold and traced with veins and speckles of light brown.

But he was denied.

✺✺✺

Should he burrow himself in the snow and freeze to death? It would be less painful than what hers had been—a shameful end under a shameful enemy race.

The wizened gaze in her eyes, the lovely echo of her voice, her hands stroking his neck and arms—just a few more hours, and he would have had all of that and much more. He could almost feel the warmth of a campfire, the cool of a rainfall with her, the nights on long missions in which they would rest in the comfort of one another's embrace.

He willed his eyes to look ahead. In the distance, her unmistakable form lingered, her twin swords glistening at her side. He dizzily stood. His boots made wet squelching sounds as he raced toward her. Oh my gods. Oh....my....gods....

She looked his way just as he engulfed her, squeezing her tightly to his chest, crushing his body to hers. He removed his mask, fitting his mouth over hers immediately. Her breath was hot as she kissed him back. Whispered his name, again and again, as she interlaced their fingers. Her callous hands stroked his own as if he was a priceless gem, a good man—not a wretch struggling with every wicked act he'd ever done.

Her form flickered, and he pressed their foreheads together. "What's wrong?" She asked, her voice dreamy but still the same. Still the voice of his sweet Ronderu.

"Oh, Ru," he mumbled as he lifted her up and buried his face in her black hair.

✺✺✺

Sorrow met Ronderu and Qymaen as they returned to the shore of Jenuwaa that was away from Yam'rii-controlled space: the city of Kaleela had been taken by the Huk. They withdrew to a secluded place. He touched her cheek. Are you happy, nee ru?

The happiest I've ever been.

How do you think we can overcome the Yam'rii?

They are beginning to tremble. We must reunite the Kaleesh forces. The tribes must stand together—

His general from back at Kaleela, Bentilais san Sk'ar, placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. "Where had you gone?"

"Abesmi, to recover Ronderu."

Bent's expression—from his eyes, at least—was perplexed. "She is watching us from above, my friend. You did her proud."

Qymaen looked beside him, but Ronderu was gone. The Jenuwaa shore was unbroken, unperturbed. And that was when he finally came to his senses.

She had been the sea to him, and the sea had called her back home.

✺✺✺

Her hair billows, a great black curtain in the ocean as she struggles to breathe. The ocean roars and chokes him with the aroma of her blood.

"Aren't you my friend? Don't you love me?"

Her body is limp and cold as it slogs onto the surface. He wipes the dripping blood from her mouth gently, from the soft lips he'd kissed now hard as rock and red as the evening sky.

He wants to scream and lash out at the Yam'rii for killing her. They deserve to die. Every Yam must pay for their infinite crime.

Bent came in later in the day. "Sir, what would you have me do? I know you're not well—"

"Defense. Take the soldiers, keep them in the trees for ambush attacks." His friend's face blurred in his vision, and he turned to the wall on his sleeping mat.

Everything in his body shut down. Numbness took over as his friend left the room, barking orders at the soldiers that lingered outside.

He studied Shia's face as she entered the room to tend to him. She gazed downward. "I have to be able to smell the medicine. Forgive me for immodesty, Your Grace."

She set her medicine down and wept silently, but he didn't leave where he was. How dare she cry when she had barely known Ronderu. How dare she.

✺✺✺

He walked out at night to gather the ashes of the cremation into a terra pot. Gripping his stomach, he braced himself for the physical pain like shoni spears jutting into his heart.

Bent sat down next to him, and he sighed. "I'm going to the temple alone."

"The Huk are still down there. Want me to at least accompany you to the entrance?"

He nodded silently. They carried her Lig swords, the same Lig swords that she had trained him to use when she'd taught him how to fight with melee weapons; her mask, the one she'd taken off when they'd been in the lagoon, clasped in each other's arms.

When they'd reached the top room of the local temple, he motioned for his friend to wait outside. He set the urn on the crumbling bench of the room, resting the mask against it, the Lig swords on either side.

Walking through the woods yielded a boulder so large that both of them had to muscle it up the stairs to the room. Qymaen rolled the stone over the doorway, and darkness descended over the room. And when he closed that door, he closed everything beautiful behind it.

◈◈◈

Did you know....

● Bentilais san Sk'ar has his own story as the person who, in Legends, surrendered to Grand Admiral Thrawn to keep Kalee from getting destroyed. Thrawn couldn't figure out their artwork, and therefore wished to destroy them, but Sk'ar surrendered in order to spare the khagan of Kalee and their people.

● Related to the above: the Kaleesh believed that the khagan at the time of Sk'ar's betrayal was a reincarnation of Ronderu. I personally agree with it.

Tell me what you think....

● Can Qymaen stay sane after this situation?

● Do you remember the line "I submit to no one" in the TCW episode "Lair of Grievous"? If so, how does it contrast to this scene? What is different about Qymaen's behavior in this case as opposed to TCW?