"Do you...think me too bloodthirsty?"

She is startled from her task of sharpening her beloved weapon, the very same one that nearly chopped off his head on the Ice Floe fortress, in the dead of winter, all those years ago. She glances up quizzically at her mate, but his back is to her, staring at the fire on their hearth.

Her first impulse is to joke, as she is wont to do. You think you're bloodthirsty with that puny battleaxe of yours? I'm the one who swings a kriffing cleaver.

But something in the tension on his shoulders stills her tongue, and Severa thoughtfully ponders his question. It is unlike Cassian to be bothered by something like this. For as long as she's known him, her mate has always been self-assured, confident, even arrogant at times. It is few and far in between that he shows the vulnerable part of himself. Certainly never to others, and seldom even to her.

So she puts her cleaver away and chooses her next words carefully. "What makes you say that?"

"I overheard one of the wives share her fears that her mate cares for nothing, only the heat of battle. That over time, he grew worse and worse, inciting fights, finding any excuse to brawl because the only time he feels alive is when he is shedding blood. Lately, he has begun to hit her as well."

"And you think the same may happen to you?" Severa queries.

"I don't know."

"Do you feel the urge to harm anyone or kill a complete stranger?"

"... No."

"Do you want to hit me?"

Cassian whips his head so fast to stare at her in shock, eyes wide. "Never!"

Severa rolls her eyes. "Then what is the problem?"

He turns to look back at the fire, but not before she sees the fear in his gaze. She knows then, what he is about to say.

"I live to fight. There is nothing more satisfying than cutting down my enemies in the field of battle. To hear the sounds of war all around, to match my skill with that of my opponent's, and betting my life on it. I feel a rush in my blood and my heart sings. Fighting is what I was born to do, and I am very good at it." Cassian then meets her eyes. "But I could never bear it if I turn into some kind of monster. I'd rather end myself now than see you look at me like how that wife looked when talking about her mate." He hangs his head in shame, refusing to look at her now.

Severa gets up and slowly walks to stand before him. She cups his chin and makes him look at her. "You are my mate and you will listen to what I have to say and listen well. You are the Empress' Warmaster, a title not given lightly, and I trust the Empress' judgment implicitly. That which you fear will not happen because what you described to me about that husband is a sickness of the mind. It has nothing to do with battle but with uncontrolled aggression. He enjoys inflicting pain on others, not the fights themselves. He thrives on fear and cruelty. I've seen you fight countless times and know that you respect your opponents. You are nothing like him."

The truth, spoken out loud, settles like a comforting mantle around his shoulders. The conviction in her eyes warms his heart and for the umpteenth time, he wonders how he could have been so fortunate to have her in his life.

"I... thank you. For your belief in me."

Severa cracks a smile then, a twinkle lighting up her eyes. "Besides, I'm just as guilty as you are. I love a good fight as you well know. Why do you think I train myself all the time? Speaking of which, it's been a long time since we've sparred together. Care to have your *** handed to you, my love?"

He laughs, a deep, rich bellow that shakes his whole frame, and she is gratified to see his melancholy mood pass. For his part, Cassian is reminded of how they first met, on opposite sides of the war, doing their best to take each other's head off. He'd had a kriffing love-hate relationship with that cleaver of hers.

"I doubt that very much, wife, but I shall humor you."

She slaps him playfully on the shoulder and gives him a seductive look. "Tomorrow then. But for tonight, your wife has given you some sage counsel and I think you should display your gratitude in a most..." —her voice drops an octave— "enjoyable manner."