Despite being on the first level of the Citadel, the massive courtyard remains hidden behind towering walls of stone and sediment. An elongated central patch of neatly trimmed grass stretches out for almost fifty-meters while maintaining a twenty-meter width. At the center of the grass is a large, ovular fountain in the shape of the Arcona emblem, with water running from the tips of each pointed edge. Vegetation grows along some of the walls, and an archaic clock-face is carved into the face of one of the entryways. A small group of rotating sharpshooters are scattered across the walls as the courtyard is supposed to serve as a safe place for Arconans to enjoy some quiet time, or to meet with visitors. It has served as the venue for multiple honor-duels over time, and there is a significant crater off to the side of the grass left behind as a result of a contest between Marick Arconae and Wuntila Arconae. The duel had taken place prior to either Arconae serving as Shadow Lords and in a quieter time before all Arcona knew was warfare.

As you walk towards the back of the courtyard, closer to the base of the cliff that the Citadel is constructed upon, a tall tree shoots up from the stone, its shade guarding an entrance into the Citadel proper.

Rhiann had found herself at a loss for words. It had been some time since she lost her temper, let alone it boil over into this. Her hands trembled, her body shook and her eyebrows felt permanently knit on her forehead. Usually the Citadel would be a thing of beauty, but all she saw was fire in her eyes.

Walking behind her, Mirus could see his wife’s hands trembling in anger. This wasn’t the first time they had gotten into an argument-- far from. Apologies were made, but not accepted. Although what had happened was an accident, no simple and genuine apology would fix this. His unnatural blue eyes stole a glance or two at the architecture around them as they passed by, hoping that they wouldn’t scar the area… too badly.

It was then he noticed Atyiru watching from a higher vantage point. The Titan had called her to spectate and watch over the two of them, a noticeable look of worry on her face. It was a correct assumption to be worried over the marriage of two of her clan members, especially with the look on Rhiann’s face. Not only that, but this was bound to get messy.

Approaching the grassy parts of the courtyard, Mirus eventually stopped following the woman in front of him. He stood straight as he waited for Rhiann to stop further down the courtyard, her boots digging into the grass and tearing into the dirt underneath. Without even a warning, the Sephi activated her lightsaber and suddenly turned her body toward the man she currently considered her enemy; her feet making quick work of the distance between the two of them. Mirus hadn’t been expecting her to act so fast, activating his lightsaber as he swiped it from his side, barely managing to avoid the first of many jabs at him.

The woman’s fist held behind her back clenched tightly as her other arm continued to thrust the lightsaber toward Mirus, the bulky man barely managing to weave around each close encounter with the pointy end of a lightsaber blade.

His eyebrows furrowed as he brought his own blade up during one of her jabs, catching Rhiann off balance for a quick moment as the blade in her hand was knocked upward and out of his way. She would need a moment to correct herself, Mirus taking advantage of her opening and swinging at her numerous times, but the Sephi was too quick on her feet. She avoided each one, the scowl on her face deepening every time the man opposite of her swung the humming blade at her body.

Knowing this could continue on until he ran out of endurance, he tried to get her to snap out of the anger fueled trance she was in.

“Rhi. Stop,” he’d try to say, “Stop and calm down and think about what you’re doing.”

The man would be growled back at, Rhiann’s voice dripping with anger, “You are just trying to throw me off so you can win! Not only did you destroy my prototype datapad, you just do not want to suffer the stakes of this!”

As much as Mirus didn’t want to lose this fight, it seemed there was no way to calm his wife down. With a sneer, Rhiann started to bring her lightsaber back in with small flourishes and tried to bring it back between the two of them, her arm kept close to her to get more control in case Mirus tried to pull a fast one on her again.

Up in the safety of things, Atyiru was joined by another familiar face. Leaning on the stone ledge, the last piece of Team Titan as the three of them were known as, looked down at the spectacle. He didn’t look worried… more intrigued than anything. Turel kept silent for the time being, focusing his interest on the marital spat going on in the courtyard.

The interesting thing about the married couple was that, given that they were their own best training partners, their skills were fairly equally matched in the realm of lightsaber combat. However, their opposing skills beautifully complemented one another - for example, where Rhiann had poise, speed and the ability to quickly size up an opponent's flaws, Mirus had raw power and the ability to stay the fight. Their opposing mindsets - her intellectual bent and his purely physical dominance - were perfect complements to one another, making them collectively a single, united being. When that unity wavered, things got challenging.

Every thrust of the lithe Sephi's blade as met with a wide parry, trying desperately to open her guard up for a quick attack on his part - but her speed was simply too much, too overwhelming at this point. She was already fueling her body with the Force, improving the speed at which her arm gracefully glided through the air like a bird's flight. Each stab with the woman's teal blade was as ferocious as the unbridled fury of her anger, trying desperately to cause actual bodily harm to her husband.

That was one of her favourite datapads, that was. She didn't believe his apology for one second.

At this point Mirus was rather unsure of how to proceed. On one hand, he seriously did not want to harm the woman in front of him; he'd promised to her his entire life and that he would protect her from the Galaxy's turmoil in times of need, happily sacrificing position and power to be hers for eternity. On the other hand, she was basically being an unreasonably raging bitch and needed to be put down. Realistically, she would probably cut his arm off for a second time in his life if given enough opportunity. It was probably best for his livelihood if he stopped her. Just this once.

At that point Mirus chose to dig his heels in and centre himself in the Force, channelling its energies to draw strength to his arm. While not precisely angry, the ability to use raw adrenaline-- the kind when one knows their life is in serious danger-- was a powerful boon and Mirus used it to make himself stronger, to be able to turn her blade away more rapidly. His inner emotions became his sword and shield as she thrusted one more time, Mirus whirling his blade in a wide circle with incredible strength as she did so to turn her lightsaber away and open her up, allowing him to reach out with the Force and blow her away with a single kinetic strike.

Stumbling backwards, Rhiann sought to find her balance again, shaking the detritus away from her psyche as she recovered from that jarring blow. While Mirus could have capitalised on those few moments, he chose not to, instead wanting her to come again and let herself realise the futility of striking the all-powerful sword against the immovable shield. When his wife tired herself out from assaulting him, then he could finish the fight in his own time and on his own terms. She lunged again, ready to put her blade through his shoulder, but the Dathomiri was prepared for this, deflecting her blade down. A quick series of short swipes followed moments later, brushing closer and closer to his skin with every passing strike. Each time he found himself blocking easily, the freedom of movement in his body a wonderful boon.

As he could feel the surge of adrenaline wash away, Mirus knew he would have to change up his strategy if he wanted to survive. Channelling the Force yet again, Mirus took a giant somersault into the crater in the courtyard made by Marick and Wuntila quite some time ago, using it not only as a defensive bastion but to put distance between the two where he could catch his breath. Rhiann had other ideas. The moment he flipped away, she focused the Force into her feet, dashing along at a blinding pace - across the courtyard and down the crater as he was recovering. She was his greatest source of knowledge and inspiration, knowing every little fact about him and his combat style-- his love of Rage was also one of his biggest downfalls, knowing the signs of his tiredness and the refractory period it forced upon him. If she wanted to win, that would be the best time to strike.

After all, if she didn't know the signs of his exhaustion, she'd be a terrible wife. And she was a great wife. He was just being terrible as a husband, breaking all her good stuff.

Her feet skidded down the side of the crater and an instant later their blades clashed. Somewhere above them, bets were now being taken as Arcia Cortel, Terran Koul and Celevon Edraven joined the crowd. With the entirety of their Summit watching, the pressure was intensifying. Everyone was dying to know just how this panned out.