Savage is forced to spend time in a way he does not want and gets a gift he does not like.
CN /
300 words
Masterlist
Mandalore was a pleasant place to live as far as Savage was concerned. The flora and fauna were not out to kill constantly. The climate was moderate. And thanks to Maul’s title as Manda’lor if Savage wanted, he could order the Mandalorians around as he pleased.
Not that he did that.
Savage was a simple man. He had grown up on Dathomir as an ordinary Nightbrother. All his material wishes were pragmatic and moderate. And most of his immaterial wishes included being left alone. He truly did not care for much. Or anyone.
Only Maul, his brother and master, occupied a space in Savages heart one might even consider soft. So soft even that Savage was ready to endure Maul’s absurd idea of raising Irai as a future little sith lord.
“It looks like a blood bath.” Savage growled in annoyance at the picture Irai showed him. The little kid smiled proudly and started drawing on a new sheet of flimsi.
“I’m gonna draw you next, Savage.” Irai declared.
“Great.” The ocher Zabrak replied unenthusiastically and leaned back against the huge chest full of toys. Mentally he wished to be somewhere else. Not in the little child’s room Maul had arranged for in the palace of Sundari. Plastoid swords, toy blasters and beheaded dolls littered the floor where Irai was lying and drawing with their legs in the air and humming a melody.
“Do you like it?” Irai sounded concerned.
Savage glared down at the flimsi. A yellow man with horns and a red double sword was waving at a smiling flower with a face. He had been to places where flowers had faces. He hadn’t liked it there. Flower with maws tended to want him in said maw.
“No.” he said.
Irai looked hurt. Truly hurt. Something in Savage cared about that.
“It’s the colour. I am not yellow.” He tried to explain.
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to be continued
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