Ziva smiled at the young woman and replied, "No embarassment. If you had listened, Lord Tristan had pride in you. Your mother is his niece and she shared much about you."
Ziva handed over the pants and tunic and then reached for a pair of boots, the kind the warriors wore as well as a belt. She added, "Lord Tristan finds that you bring honor to your family. As for what has happened, terrible. A day of happiness marred by battle. Such was it for the Guardian." She then snapped out of her reverie and asked, "Do these suit you?"
"I salute you. You are among the first to pose a threat to me. The next time we meet...you will not survive."
Tavaryn managed to reply through gritted teeth, "The next time, you and I will end this. You will know that a shadow can bite."
He watched as Varith made a hasty exit before letting out a tired sigh and began assessing his injuries. He looked at his left shoulder where it was still bleeding but it had slowed. He touched a hand to his head and felt the stickiness of blood. I am a mess alright.
He stood up slowly wincing from the numerous bruises that were probably all over his body and the cracked ribs. He could still feel the burning from the lightning and briefly wondered if Doc was going to knock him out and stick him in a bacta tank.
"Are you alright Tavaryn?"
He heard her voice and looked up from his injuries to see her. She had hardly changed since they separated. He looked at her, afraid to say anything out of a childish fear that she would disappear forever. Still he knew better than to keep her waiting so he slowly and gently said the first thing that came to mind, "Is it really you Alriana?"