The Miraluka slowly flexed her fingers and wrist, the medical droid having said she was clear to remove the immobilizer from her arm. She listened to the sounds of Tython around her and sighed softly. She’d not yet reported in to the Jedi, Tomuraan said he’d assist with that. For now she wandered the game trails and came to rest near a small brook that babbled cheerfully as she exercised her hand.
Her mind was a whirlwind of jumbled thoughts. Her conversation with Kyic, the conversation with Tomuraan and her comm call with Niatara. All of it seemed a bit overwhelming, but even here she could sort it out a piece at a time.
First her conversation with Kyic. It had gone as she had expected but Caer believed it did not go as he expected. Caer was sure that the man hadn’t expected her to not flinch from him and Caer was pretty sure that he had expected supplicating gestures. That wasn’t what he’d gotten. Caer was civil, but she did not let him walk over her as he had attempted to do. Essentially his hands were tied when it came to their conversation as she made no overt threat and they were in the middle of Nar Shaddaa. Even as she recalled the conversation she had not been surprised to watch him try to prod and nettle her. It hadn’t worked in her opinion. It was just a Sith being a Sith.
She had thanked him for his part in her rescue. Even if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had no idea what part he’d played, that was information people seemed reluctant to tell her. If truth be told, it seemed as if Tom, Raiy and Neirov were hesitant at best and walking on pins and needles at worst when it came to discussing her abduction. It irritated her on some level to think that they were afraid of how she might react. But the logical side of her had realized that they were likely waiting for an opening, a cue from her.
Caer had thanked Kyic. She recalled that much; what he had expected in thanks was likely quite different from what she gave. Caer was sure the man probably expected grovelling and probably professions of devotion to the dark side or something. She didn’t particularly care, she had been sincere in her original thanking of his aid. That was all that mattered. He could take it as he will.
Caer wasn’t sure what he’d expected but the conversation …didn’t exactly deteriorate, but it became a bit less civil and they had parted ways. It hadn’t helped her brother had shown up, his presence likely sensed by the Sith and it likely marked her as weak to him. She had been angry at her brother for that. The man had no concept of the posturing the Sith went through. Tom had shown up mid-argument between them and had soothed ruffled feathers between them.
Tomuraan. Caer sighed as she knelt next to the brook and fell into meditations. The man confused her, intrigued her and gave her a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach she’d not gotten with anybody else. The sense of attraction to the man was very much there, but even she knew that it was more an intellectual attraction than a physical one. Caer had spent the past week with him in her mind since her return and he had been a constant presence inside her mind. They shared a place inside the force, sharing a little place between them. His aid to heal her, to make her come back to herself had led to a more stable mental state and she had welcomed him wholly. They sat for hours just talking, he reassured her when she felt insecure or started to delve into her own self loathing. Tom spoke to her patiently and with the tone of a person who cared.
It was difficult to describe or put into words. It was difficult for her to even really truly understand. His actions and his behaviors coming and going like a strange tide. He would show affection, hugging, wrapping his arm around her, he would ensure she felt safe and cared for. But Caer had noticed over the past few days that any time she reciprocated, he would draw away. Her feelings were not hurt per-say, she didn’t think he meant anything by it, but she did wonder what it was that she was perhaps doing wrong.
Was she being too affectionate? No, she didn’t think so. She wasn’t really the affectionate types as Raiyden had reminded her a few times in their life. Caer wasn’t the huggy and clingy type to hang off of someone. If anything she had been told she could appear too formal, too cold. But that wasn’t it either.
He was afraid. The realization dawned on her and she almost groaned audibly with how idiotic she felt. It wasn’t her, it was the fact that they had gotten so close, intimate on a mental level and he still had another who had not contacted him or spoken to him in weeks, possibly a standard month or more. He was afraid! Not of her, but of starting something, forming something and having it dissipate with the arrival of someone else. Caer couldn’t help but slump her shoulders at the thought of that, realizing that she was possibly hurting him by her return of affection. It made him feel torn and he drew away because he didn’t want to feel torn.
Caer exhaled slowly and rubbed her face, rousing form the meditations. She understood and she realized his talk about attachments last night had been as much for himself as it had been for the sake of having a chat. He was reminding her that attachments could lead to things anyone may not like, but he was also reminding himself. Neirov too likely took a lesson from that, but what he took only Neirov would know.
Getting to her feet she brushed off dead leaves that clung to her skirt and sighed heavily. Caer turned and headed towards the temple, rubbing her shoulder, hand sliding down her arm and to her newly healed wrist. She would sort this out, wait and see what happened. She would remain steadfast in her like for Tomuraan, but she would wait for his cues. She would wait patiently for him to make his decisions; whatever they may be.