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To say that Agen is angry is putting it mildly. He is furious.
He wishes he could have accompanied Kenobi, Skywalker and Master Gallia to the Saleucami sector to rescue Eeth, but he had been sent on his own mission just a few days prior. Mace had eventually informed him what happened to the other Zabrak.
Eeth is back on Coruscant now, dropped off by a medical ship. He is alive and at least that is something. On the other hand, Zabraks are incredibly hard to kill so alive can mean just about anything, from a concussion to body-cut-in-two, the span is wide. Agen was ‘alive’ before, with almost all of his ribs broken and a lung collapsing.
He paces the corridor in front of the Halls of Healing again.
He is also angry at Master Che because no matter how much he argues and promises to be quiet and give Eeth space, she won’t let him see him.
Steady steps pull him out of his head and away from the idea that he could go and meditate or do some lightsaber training and then return later to see if he has a better chance with Master Che.
“Master Kolar,” Mace greets him. “Did the Chief Healer kick you out?”
“Bold of you to assume she let me inside in the first place,” he answers. They rest their foreheads together for a brief moment. Mace isn’t a Zabrak, but he is just as much their pack as Master T’ra is and Tan used to be, so the human grew accustomed to their customs soon enough.
Agen is still agitated because Vokara Che disclosed that she needed to tend to her patient in a calm atmosphere. Eeth needs peace and quiet to start his recovery, and according to her, Agen is causing turmoil wherever he goes and especially in the Halls of Healing. Such things are reserved for the battlefield, he is a Jedi Master after all, he knows when to take a step back, thank you very much.
“Let us see if I can smuggle you inside with me.” Mace pulls away and interlocks their hands. Together they stride into the Halls of Healing. Agen grins lowly. Mace’s murder walk has certainly gotten him places, no matter how much he denies to have one.
They are barely through the door when Agen locks eyes with Master Che. The blue Twi’lek does not look amused in the slightest but her disapproving gaze neutralizes when she spots Mace.
“Master Windu. What brings you to my Halls at such a late hour?” It is not late at all, the sun over the skyline of Coruscant is barely setting. Still, Master Che’s cool tone emphasises that visitation hours have ended a while ago.
“Good evening, Master Che. We came to make sure Master Koth is on the way back to health. It is my duty, after all, to make sure my fellow Councillor is recovering well from their injuries.”
“And I assume you require Master Kolar for your emotional support.” She eyes their interlocked hands, unimpressed.
“Quite right.” Mace nods once, determined, like it is perfectly reasonable for the Master of the Order to drag someone else around with them for emotional support.
Agen spots Mace’s mild smile and has to direct his gaze to the floor in order to keep up his neutral expression. This is ridiculous. Suddenly, he feels like a padawan again, sneaking out with his friends at night to explore the levels of Coruscant that are closest to the Temple. His shoulders relax just a little.
The healer frowns and her mouth twitches lightly in displeasure. “His state is still fragile, so he needs absolute rest. If you agitate him in any way, I will have to remove you from the Halls of Healing. Understood?”
Mace nods. “We will be mindful.”
She redirects her gaze to Agen. “Master Kolar?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Master Che sighs and pins them down with her gaze for another moment before waving them on and quickly disappearing somewhere to turn to more serious matters.
“I can’t believe we just got away with that,” Agen mutters while they head down the many hallways.
“The perks of being a Council member, my friend.”
“The perks of being friends with one, indeed.”
Eeth’s room is located at the end of one of the hallways. Mace is about to knock but Agen stops him. “He’s probably asleep.”
Mace nods and steps to the side. “After you.”
Agen presses the door opener that makes the door slide open with a soft hiss. Together they carefully enter.
The room is dark, only a few slithers of light fall through the blinds and draw patterns of sunlight on the walls. The temperature is carefully regulated like in the rest of the Temple, but Agen still shudders when he steps inside.
Eeth is curled up on his side, face to the wall. His shoulders are slowly rising and falling with each slow breath. The heart monitor on the wall is active but since no healers are lingering around, Agen figures that he is through the worst of it.
The sharp, cleansing smell of Bacta hits Agen’s sensitive nose and rises to his head, making his vision blur for a second before he can blink the fog away.
He takes a few large steps to the bed before he sinks down beside Eeth. The blanket is covering his friend to the hips so Agen shuffles around a little until he can wrap his arms around his waist. The weight of the body in his hold grounds Agen. Eeth is still here, still alive and he can still grab and feel him.
T’ra used to tease them about having no concept of personal space. She probably still would but when they grew older, they stopped their habit of passing out huddled together in public. Both Agen and Eeth still like the close proximity.
Technically, they do have a concept of personal space. Said concept just involves a lot more hugs, bed sharing and foreheads bumps than the human average.
Mace halts for a moment, hesitates but when Eeth doesn’t so much as stir, he sits down at the foot end and stretches his legs out, leaning against the wall. He likes to keep his space and they let him.
“I wondered when you would come visit,” a soft voice murmurs against the pillow.
Agen lets out a deep chuckle and noses the skin where Eeth’s neck connects to his back. “I apologize, my friend. I had to wait for Master Windu to smuggle us inside.”
Eeth huffs but turns slowly, with a low pained breath, to bury his face into Agen’s shoulder. “Thank the Force you are finally here.”
“How are you feeling?” Agen murmurs.
Eeth shrugs softly and tilts his head into Agen’s neck. “I hadn’t hoped to see these walls again. No less am I glad to be back.”
Losing Eeth would have been… no small feat. If the time comes, Agen knows he will have to let go. Still, he appreciates every day he gets to live alongside his fellow Jedi and his friends.
It seems that Mace shares the sentiment since he carefully shuffles up to sit on Eeth’s other side. He gently rests his hand on their friend’s shoulder.
Eeth breathes deeply, stretches his muscles slowly and tucks on Agen’s hair, almost playfully.
“You have your hair up?” Eeth notes and Agen huffs in response. He only ties his hair up when he is stressed out of his mind, of course Eeth would notice.
Agen takes Eeth’s hands and gently traces his fingers over the bandages that are wrapped around his palms and fingers. There are red lightning markings that disappear into his sleeves, the skin around his wrists looking angry and inflamed.
Eeth tucks his hands under his chest and turns a little more, so he is buried between Agen and the mattress.
“I apologize, my friend,” Agen notes. He means it. If he could, he would have taken Eeth’s place. It wouldn’t have made a lot of difference for everyone around them, but Agen has been in the position of being tortured before, on Brentaal IV. He could have taken it.
Eeth’s horns scratch lightly against his cheek, his breath fanning over the skin of Agen’s neck. He stays quiet, says nothing, only listens to Agen’s hearts pumping blood through his body in tandem.
Agen uses their position to slowly rub his cheek against Eeth’s hair, making the everlasting scent of Bacta that clings to the other Zabrak finally disappear.
“Is the sun still up?” Eeth asks softly. Agen makes an affirmative noise. “It’s sunset. Would you like us to open the blinds?”
Eeth hums affirmatively. Agen looks up at Mace because he really does not want to move right now. The other Jedi shoots him a scrunched look but reaches out with the Force for the window controls.
The evening sun is setting in the direction of the window, its streams spilling into the room as soon as the blinds open. It bathes the room into a calming orange hue, softer than the lights on Iridonia.
Eeth exhales against Agen and rubs his face into his shoulder before he turns over with a sigh like a large, lazy loth-cat. There are bruises under Eeth’s jaw, large ones, stretching over his neck and jawbone, complemented by deep scratches that Agen knows stem from metal claws. Only now does he notice the exhausted whistling in Eeth’s breathing pattern.
Mace’s worry hits him just a second later, but the other man makes sure to catch and hide it before Eeth can perceive it too.
Eeth doesn’t seem to notice any of the negative emotion. All in all, he seems pretty out of it, so Agen just pulls his mental shields up and wraps them tightly around the three of them until Mace nudges him back with his own force presence. Slowly, he loosens his grip again.
Eeth purrs softly and Agen reciprocates the noise, letting the soft sound tumble from his lungs deliberately. The noise unravels something deep, tense in his shoulders, a certain fear that has been lingering there since his best friend got abducted. He knows he is being overprotective, but at the same time, he feels guilty for not being protective enough.
The tension in his spine unknits slowly. Eeth relaxes the same way in his arms, and it doesn’t take long until they have purred each other into relaxed states.
This happens sometimes, when they are both tired and comfortable. One of them starts purring, the other reciprocates and before they know it, they fall asleep somewhere.
Agen barely manages to stay awake, eyes growing heavy, but he forces himself awake and listens to the soft noises that fall from Eeth’s lips whenever he breathes out. He reciprocates them with deeper rumbles from his own chest.
“Sleep,” Mace whispers and slowly opens the band that holds Agen’s hair together. “I will watch over the two of you.”
Agen huffs because he doesn’t need a protector, nor a guard, and he should be the one guarding Eeth, but he also trusts Mace.
In addition to that, he is so tired. Aside from his meditations, rest hasn’t been coming easy these last few days.
He makes one last attempt to keep his eyes open before he lets them slip shut. With Eeth in his arms and his back extending towards Agen’s chest, every time he breathes in, rest comes easy.