#ahsoka's waiting to exhale moment

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

Written in the Stars: Chapter IV - Heavy Hearts

Chapter Summary: You haven't heard from Anakin ever since he has confessed his feelings to you. You miss your best friend and it shows. Everyone can tell something is wrong, but one person figures out what's bothering you and make you realize the truth as well. One day, you're forced to make a terrible decision for the good of your people. The only person who can help you find a third way is… Anakin. But will he help you after what happened between you two? And can your relationship still be fixed?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker/Reader

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Reader, C-3PO, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano

Word Count: 6382

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090695361/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090754675/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090754673/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090718023/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090766142/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090919861/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090746529/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090718020/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090721236/ This chapter also contains a dialogue from "Attack of the Clones". The gif is not mine. I hope you'll enjoy!

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@nikiloveshayden

Ever since your argument, if you can call it that, with Anakin you haven't seen or heard from him. You tried calling him a few times. But he never answered. Sad, angry and disappointed, you stopped trying. However, it hit you hard.

Everyone around you has noticed that something has changed. You're no longer doing anything with a spring in your step. A certain spark you've always seemed to carry in you that has always brightened up the room seems to have died out. You rarely smile and it never reaches your eyes. They ask what happened. You insist you're fine. But you're not. Because you miss a certain Jedi Knight.

Lanash Kijalah is the first to understand what's going on. She lets you subtly know it when you're working on some documents late into night again. She brings you another cup of tea and stares at you with worry.

'They won't run away tomorrow, my lady,' she says softly. 'And you need to rest.'

'I'm fine,' you insist and sip the tea without looking at the cup. 'I have a lot of work to do.'

'It's not the first time,' your maid carefully says. 'You've barely slept recently.'

'Busy time,' you respond. 'I knew that it would be like that after the coronation.'

She stares at you for a moment. Finally, she grabs the previous cup and turns to leave. She suddenly stops and looks over her shoulder at you.

'People get drunk,' she says, confusing you so much you look up at her. 'They kiss the wrong person. Get lost in work. And pretend to be okay. People will do anything to distract their hearts. They will do anything to distract it from missing someone.'

Your eyes go wide. You drop your quill. She gives you a knowing look and leaves the room. You exhale shakily after a moment and run a hand through your hair.

'Damn you, Lanash,' you murmur, blinking away the tears. 'Damn you and your observant eyes.'

A few days later your father calls you to his chambers. When you reach them, you're about to knock, but your mother's raised voice causes you to freeze:

'You're breaking your promise to her!'

'What other choice do I have?' your father asks, annoyed… but also tired. 'If we don't agree, our people-'

'Shh!' your mother hushes him. They continue to speak in lowered volumes. You wait a moment then knock.

'Come in,' the King calls after a pause. You walk in. Andrrei is standing behind his desk. Lyra is sitting on a couch. They don't look happy. Not a good sign.

'You wanted to see me, father,' you say and walk to them. Your father smiles weakly at you.

'Yes, darling,' he says and motions at the couch. 'Please, sit.'

You sit down carefully next to your mother. The King paces nervously.

'We have a problem,' he starts after a moment. 'You're aware, of course, that most of resources we use to shield our people from magnetic storms come from the planet Jantoth.'

You nod when he stops and looks at you. He resumes his walk, more nervous with every step.

'The time has come to renew our deal with its king,' he continues. 'We've talked today. He… he claims it was harder to gain the materials this year. He demands a larger sum for it. Much… much larger.'

'We've already been paying them too much as it is,' you comment, frowning. 'If we pay them even more… we'll be ruined. Or in debt if we borrow the credits from someone.'

'He's aware of it,' Andrrei says and winces. 'He… offered an alternative.'

He stops. A heavy silence fills the room. Lyra purses her lips, clearly displeased. You raise your eyebrows.

'And?' you urge them. 'What is this offer?'

'That you marry his son,' the Queen answers when it's clear the King has troubles with saying this to you. You look at them, aghast.

'I do what?' you ask, your eyes wide, and shake your head. 'Absolutely not.'

'[Y/N]…' your father sighs. 'I don't like it either. But… the lives of our people depend on it. We must at least consider it.'

'Consider being blackmailed?' you ask, bewildered. 'Because that's what it is. I agree for negotiation about price, but not treating me like I'm one. Especially since you made me and Astrariel a promise.'

Andrrei winces. You stare at him, your gaze like a pure steel.

'I know,' he says quietly and runs a hand down his face. 'I know, [Y/N]. And I wish I could spare you this. Fulfil my promise to you and your sister. But sometimes… we must make sacrifices for the good of our people.'

'I've been doing them ever since I was old enough to understand my responsibilities,' you say after a moment. 'I asked for this one thing. I won't agree to marry someone I don't love.'

'[Y/N]-' your mother starts, reaching for you. But you stand up abruptly and march out of the room, barely restraining yourself from slamming the door behind you. But you do slam the door to your chambers when you enter them. You make Lanash jump, startled.

'My lady?' she asks, her eyes wide. 'Has something happened?'

You walk past her and sit down on your bed with a sigh. You hide your head in your hands. When you lift it up, she's standing in front of you, looking at you with worry. You tell her about the conversation with your parents. She's shocked by this revelation.

'Is there nothing that can be done?' she asks when you're done.

'We rely too heavily on those resources,' you answer. 'We've been researching into alternatives… but to no avail for now. But this… this price is too heavy. Both options.'

You gulp, desperate to stop the tears. Kijalah stares at you with sympathy.

'I know my duties to the planet and its people,' you say after a beat. 'But this… this is a lot. What do you think I should do?'

Your maid is quiet for a moment. She walks to the window and looks out of it.

'The sad truth is so many people are in love and not together,' she says finally, 'and so many people are together and not in love.'

'Exactly!' you say, standing up abruptly. 'Why should I have such relationship as well? Then again… There's always a chance we will fall in love. I mean, I met the prince and he was… so not my type, both in looks and personality. But maybe… he has changed. Or will. And we can… fall in love.'

You sit down, deflated. You really don't believe it. Lanash looks at you.

'Even if you won't love him,' she says, surprising you. 'Because you already gave your heart to someone else.'

Your eyes snap to her. Her gaze is serious.

'What do you mean?' you ask coldly. But she doesn't shy away. She comes back to you.

'I know you, my lady,' she says. 'A few years ago, you would sacrifice your own happiness for the good of your people. But not now. Because you already know with whom you'd like to spend your life.'

'I don't know what you mean,' you deny, turning your eyes from her.

'I don't know what happened between you and General Skywalker,' she says after a beat. 'But ever since the day we last saw him, you've been terribly unhappy.'

You gulp. Your heart is beating very fast now.

'It's because we're friends and I hate to be at odds with him,' you insist. You risk a look at your friend and see she's giving you a dubious look.

'What's the first thing you see when you think of him… imagine him in your mind?' she asks suddenly. You don't even have to think.

'Those sparkly eyes when he laughs,' you answer with a soft smile. It quickly falls when you realize what you said. You sigh and hide your face in your hands again.

'This is bad,' you whisper. 'So bad. I mean… it can never happen. I told him this when he-'

'He what?' Lanash asks when you trail off. You don't answer. Her eyes go wide.

'He confessed, didn't he?' she guesses. 'And you told him you can't. That's why he left so angry.'

'I had to,' you whisper, pulling your hands away. 'He… he's a Jedi. They can't be in relationships. Besides… I now have to marry for the good of the planet.'

'My lady…' your maid says quietly. You stand up and give her a sad smile.

'Would you mind preparing me a bath?' you ask, wanting this conversation to be over. Her shoulders slump.

'Of course, my lady,' she says, bowing her head. She turns and leaves to the bathroom. You walk to the window and gaze at the setting sun. You're not even aware of the tears streaming down your face.

*

You burst into your room and march toward the bathroom. Lanash stares after you, bewildered. She looks at C-3PO when he enters the room.

'I guess the meeting didn't go well?' she asks.

'Well… the Prince was very rude,' the droid answers, troubled. 'I was honestly expecting Princess [Y/N] to start hitting him with her datapad. The look she was giving him was murderous.'

'Oh, dear…' your maid sighs. You return, droplets of water on your face. You've attempted to cool down with splashing it on your face.

'Something is not adding up,' you declare and start pacing. 'With the numbers of the resources. When you first look at it, everything seems correct. But the longer I stared at it, something seemed off to me. Every time I tried to find out what, the Prince or the King were distracting me. Something is up.'

'What can we do?' C-3PO asks. You stop and sigh heavily.

'Nothing, Threepio,' you say grimly. 'If I demand an investigation or make one secretly, it will seem as if I just want to escape this marriage. True, I want that, but I also don't want my planet and its people to be deceived.'

'Well… you could ask someone to conduct an investigation for you,' Lanash suggests slowly, a plan forming in her head. 'And make it seem the request didn't come from you nor the King.'

'And who would do that?' you scoff. Your maid and droid exchange a look. She looks at you pointedly.

'A certain Jedi Knight,' she answers. You tense. You shake your head.

'Absolutely not,' you disagree. 'Besides, he won't agree.'

'Master Anakin will do anything for you, Princess [Y/N],' C-3PO argues. You smile sadly at him.

'Not after our argument,' you deny.

'He will if you ask him,' your maid says softly. 'And tell him what's at stake.'

'I can't promise him what he wants,' you say after a moment.

'He'll still do it if he finds out the alternative is you living unhappily,' she argues. 'Of course, we first have to get the information of his current whereabouts. There's no way of telling where he is with the Clone Wars raging across the galaxy. And this conversation should be face to face.'

'He's on Naboo,' you say reluctantly. Your friends look at you with surprise. You sigh.

'I've talked to Padmé this morning,' you explain, tense. 'She told me they're going to be there for the next few days.'

'Is she…?' Lanash asks hesitantly.

'It appears so,' you say flatly.

'But Master Anakin loves you,' the droid quickly says. You look at him with raised eyebrows. Your maid gives you an innocent smile. You roll your eyes.

'Well, who knows what has happened between them during the last months,' you say and smile sadly. 'Why would he wait for an unwilling princess, when he can have a very willing senator?'

'Because his heart is yours,' C-3PO answers and you look away. 'At least talk to him. Ask him for help. He could never refuse to you. Not only because of your feelings, but because you saved his mother.'

You're silent. You consider the pros and cons. And your options. You stare out of the window, begging the gods to give you the answer to your problem.

Some time later on Naboo Anakin is woken up by knocking on his door. Puzzled and wary of who may need him at this hour, he walks to the door with the lightsaber in his hand and opens the door. He's met with a hooded figure. Before he can demand from this person to reveal themselves, they lift their head up and he sees your face.

'[Y/N]?' he asks, stunned. 'What are you…? How…?'

'Can I come in?' you ask quietly. 'Please. No one can know I'm here.'

Skywalker nods, stunned, and moves aside. You quickly slip into the room. He closes the door behind you and follows you further into the room. After making sure all the windows are covered, you turn to him and put down your hood. He sucks in a breath.

'[Y/N], no offence, but you look awful,' he says, his brows knitting in worry.

'Well, you stopped saying goodnight and I stopped sleeping,' you say, smiling weakly. He doesn't respond in kind. Your face falls. You look away.

'Padmé showed me a secret way on Naboo and to the palace, in case I needed to talk to her and not wanting anyone to know about it,' you explain. 'I hate using it behind her back, but even she cannot know I was here tonight.'

'Why not?' the Jedi asks, frowning. You bite your lip. His eyes are immediately captivated by it and he wishes he was the one doing it.

'To protect our cities from magnetic storms, we build shields,' you start, confusing him. 'But the materials from it are nowhere to be found on our planet. So, for years we've been striking deals with the planet Jantoth. Soon, the present one will expire. We're in the middle of negotiations of a new one. They demand more money, claiming they've been gaining less resources in the last years. But something isn't right. They've only showed us the data on the meeting we had with them and refuse to send it to us. And while I was looking at them, I could tell something is wrong. But I can't tell what.'

'That sounds bad,' Anakin says slowly. 'But why have you come to me with this?'

'We can't allow ourselves to pay them as much as they demand,' you say after a long pause. 'And I don't want them to deceive my people if they're really doing it. I can't conduct my own investigation, it would be… not perceived right. So, I've come to ask for your help. I know I hurt you-'

'It doesn't matter,' he interrupts you. 'I'll do it.'

Your eyes open wide. He stares at you calmly.

'You… will?' you ask, stunned. You were prepared to beg and he says he'll do it? Just like that?

'We… had our differences,' he says slowly. 'My fault. I shouldn't have assumed- I'm sorry. I was hurt, yes. But you need me. I can't turn you down. I'll finish my mission on Naboo, then ask Obi-Wan for help. Together we'll find out what's really going on here.'

'Thank you,' you say, truly grateful. He smiles at you. Hesitantly, you walk to him. You look into each other's eyes. You smile.

'I missed you, you know?' you ask. 'I hated that we were at odds. It made me really unhappy. But it also made me realize…'

'Yes?' he asks eagerly, taking a step toward you. You hesitate.

'That I've been smiling more often ever since I met you and much less after we stopped talking to each other,' you finally say and tilt your head. 'Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason.'

'[Y/N]…' he says quietly, leaning toward you. This wakes you up and you take a step back.

'I should go,' you say and touch his arm hesitantly. 'Thank you, Anakin. Truly.'

'Anything for you,' he says softly. You share a small smile, then you quickly sneak out of the room. Long after you're gone, he still ponders on your situation.

A few days later, Skywalker returns to Coruscant. It's late after he finishes giving his report, so he goes to his room to rest and decides to talk to Kenobi about your problem the next day. But once again he's woken up by a knock on his door.

'Please, not another mission,' he murmurs and opens the door. He's met again with hooded figure. He recognizes your cloak, but before he can relax, you look up and he sees your tear-stricken face. He's stunned.

'[Y/N]?' he asks, shocked and worried. 'What-?'

'I'm sorry,' you choke out. 'I… I'm so sorry.'

He's terrified now. He quickly ushers you in. He grabs you by your arms tightly.

'Tell me what's wrong,' he begs. 'Please, tell me, how can I help?'

'I can't do it,' you whisper, confusing him. 'I can't do what they expect of me.'

'And… what do they expect from you?' he asks slowly. Your eyes fill with tears again.

'To marry the prince of Jantoth,' you answer, shocking him. 'And I can't do it. I can't marry him, because I can't have a loveless marriage and I will never love him. I know I won't. Because I know you exist, no other man will do. The heart wants what it wants and mine wants you.'

He stiffens. He stares at you with disbelief. It slowly turns into hope.

'What are you saying?' he asks. You look him in the eyes with pain in your eyes.

'It is you,' you say and jab him angrily in the chest. 'It is… kriff… you. I cannot describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you and somehow, I can see fifty years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we're together. I need you. You are the only thing that matters. You are my good. I… I love you, Anakin.'

In a second, his hands are on your cheeks and he presses his lips to yours. You should pull away. But it feels so good, so right, and you've dreamt about this moment so much that you find yourself kissing him back.

'Forgive me,' he says after pulling away, panting. 'I just… After hearing you say that, I couldn't help myself.'

'It's okay,' you whisper. He looks at you closely.

'Why would they want you to marry that prince?' he asks. You sigh and turn your head.

'It's an alternative offer for the resources,' you explain. 'I know I should just bear with it but… I can't. Because of you.'

You look at him sadly. He reaches out to you but drops his hand.

'How much time do we have?' he asks after a beat.

'A week,' you answer. 'Then it's going to be announced to the courts. The Prince will formally ask for my hand.'

'Let's go get Obi-Wan,' he decides. You look at him with gratitude. You put back your hood on and follow him quietly through the corridors.

'Anakin?' Kenobi asks, rubbing his eyes, when he opens the door. His eyes drift to you. He frowns. You lift your head to let him see your face and put a finger on your lips. He looks at you with surprise, but lets you in.

'What are you doing here, [Y/N]?' he asks. 'And in such secret?'

You explain your situation to him. You only leave out the part of you loving Skywalker. You just say you can't marry someone you don't love.

'That is serious,' the older Jedi says when you're done. 'And you're sure something is not adding up?'

'Definitely,' you confirm. He hums, finger on his chin.

'We must find an excuse for going there,' he says and looks at you. 'I'm sure you must come back now. Go and rest. Leave it to us. We won't fail you.'

'You never do,' you say, smiling at him. You look at Anakin. He nods.

'We'll see you soon,' he promises.

'Thank you,' you say and sneak out, leaving the Jedi in a deep discussion. On your way home you're a wreck of nerves. Can they save you in time?

*

The week has passed. You had no word from Anakin and Obi-Wan. You're standing in the throne room, watching with dread as your court and guests from Jantoth gather. You still hope the Jedi will show up. But if not… should you just accept the proposal in belief they will get you out of it with their discovery? But what if they don't find anything?

'My lady…' Lanash speaks softly from behind you. You glace at her with sadness.

'Follow your heart,' she whispers. You stare at each other for a moment. But then your father calls for attention. He's trying to be calm, but you see he's grim.

'I'm very glad you've been able to join us today,' he says. He starts talking about the co-operation between your two planets. You stop listening. You focus on him again when he starts speaking that you're going to join a tighter union today. Both courts look at him with interest. Your heart speeds up.

'What is he talking about?' Astrariel whispers to you. You clench your fists. Father forbade to tell her anything. He knew she'd throw a riot in your name.

'And there is no stronger union than marriage,' your father finishes. People start whispering, astonished. Your father takes a step back and the prince of Jantoth, Jordari, takes his place.

'What, for the love of the gods?' your sister asks, stunned. You can't answer, because the Prince turns to you and you must to the same.

'Princess [Y/N] of Luth,' Jordari begins and falls on his knee, which gets him gasps from the courts, 'will you join me in building the strong union between our planets and marry me?'

'Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!' the younger princess hisses. Bless her heart. You'll hug her later. For now, you have to decide what to answer. But all it takes is a look at the Prince's smug smile to get your answer. You open your mouth to strongly refuse, when the door suddenly burst open and three familiar people and one unfamiliar man rush in.

'Hold on, Your Highness!' Obi-Wan calls. People start murmuring, shocked. You want to cry with relief. Your father stands beside you with a frown.

'Master Kenobi, what is the meaning of this?' he asks. Obi-Wan, Skywalker and Tano quickly cross the room to you.

'We have evidence the royal family of Jantoth is trying to deceive you, Your Majesty,' Anakin declares. You want to kiss him. Thank the gods, they have it. You don't even hear gasps nor offended gasps.

'How dare you?!' the Prince asks, furious. He takes a step toward the Jedi and the man. You raise your hand, stopping him.

'That is a serious accusation, Your Highness,' you say and look at him sternly. 'I'd watch your words. They can be used against you. Father, Jedi are our friends. We should hear what they have to say.'

The King nods and looks at Kenobi for explanation. But it's Ahsoka who hands him a datapad.

'Here are the numbers of how much of the resources they've actually collected in the last year,' she says. You look over your father's arm and your eyebrows raise high. That is much bigger number. However, you look at your friends calmly.

'How can you be certain they're real?' you ask. The Jedi look at the mysterious man. He's in his forties and looks as if he's been starving. He plays with a hat in his hands nervously.

'Your Highness… Your Majesty… they got those numbers straight from the storage the resources are stored,' he explains. 'My name is Evan. I helped them get there. I used to work there.'

'I thought the workers are paid nicely,' you say. Andrrei looks at you with pride. He's satisfied you've done your studies.

'They are, Your Highness,' Evan confirms. 'But… like I said, I don't work there anymore. No one from the people I used to work with does. They… they're all dead.'

Stunned silence fills the room. You walk to the man and gently take his hands in yours. You squeeze them gently, looking at him with sympathy. He gives you a look of gratitude.

'Why?' your mother asks, horrified. 'Was there some kind of an accident?'

'They were assassinated,' the Evan answers after a moment and points at Jordari. 'By the order of the Prince!'

People gasp. The royal family of Jantoth is outraged and demands the man to be arrested. Anakin and Ahsoka stand protectively in front of the man.

'Here is the proof, Your Majesty,' Obi-Wan says, switching files on the datapad. 'A confession of the bounty hunter who was tasked with it.'

The King reads the confession carefully. He returns the device to Ahsoka.

'I assume the reason for this is that he wanted to deceive us and force us to give them more money… or for this marriage to happen,' he says. 'And that you were the only people who could declare he's lying.'

'Yes, Your Majesty,' Evan confirms, nodding.

'Your Majesty, you can't honestly believe this-' Jordari starts but your father silences him with his hand. He glares at him.

'The evidence is clear,' he says. 'And it was delivered to us by the Jedi. I have no reason to doubt it.'

'I'd like to know why were they on the case anyway,' the king of Jantoth, Ralcon, says, narrowing his eyes. Your heart skips a beat.

'My wife,' the man says quickly. 'She… she turned out one day at the Jedi Temple. Beg them for their help to find me. You see, I was ill that day they… murdered my friends. I was warned by someone who saw this. I escaped. My wife was worried. Didn't know if I was alive. So, she asked for help.'

Your father is satisfied with that explanation. He turns to the unhappy king of Jantoth.

'I believe we have something to discuss,' he says. They, their wives, you and the Prince leave the room. Astrariel goes with the Jedi in her room and waits nervously. Finally, you enter the room. Everyone looks at you at once.

'So, we are to pay much less and I don't have to marry that douchebag,' you say and fall on a free chair. 'That's a very beautiful day. I think we should drink something.'

'I still can't believe you didn't tell me about this,' your sister says as Lanash hurries for drinks. 'I know I'm the younger princess, but come on!'

'Dad knew you'd flip,' you explain. 'I told him you should know, but he made me swear I'll keep silent.'

'Of course, I'd have flipped!' Astrariel says, outraged. 'He promised us that no matter what we can choose who to marry… and he almost made you marry that… that… I don't even have a word for him!'

'Your father was doing what he believed was best for your planet,' Obi-Wan gently says. 'He did it to protect his people… and you two as well.'

'We know our duties,' your sister argues. 'But this one thing he promised to us…'

'And he intended to keep it,' Lyra says, walking in. 'He was never going to let that wedding happen. He was looking for a third way, I assure you. Luckily, our Jedi friends were even faster.'

She smiles at your friends. They answer in kind. Your mother turns to you.

'They're leaving,' she informs you. 'We have to be there to bid them goodbye.'

'Can I say I hope to never see them again?' the younger princess asks with hope. The Queen sends her a look.

A moment later you watch as the people of Jantoth get on the ship. The Prince turns to you on his way. His gaze is deadly.

'You will regret this,' he hisses. 'This isn't over.'

'Have a nice trip home, Your Highness,' you say. He huffs and turns dramatically. You stick out your tongue at him. Astrariel snorts. You wink at her and hurry back inside. You find the Jedi watching the departure from the window.

'I don't know how I can thank you for that,' you say. Obi-Wan smiles at you.

'We're sorry it took so long,' he apologizes. 'I'm afraid we made it at the last moment.'

'Well, maybe you had a few more minutes,' you respond, shrugging. 'I was going to decline, meaning it would probably cause an uproar and an argument. But I'm glad you walked in when you did.'

'We couldn't let you marry someone you don't love,' Ahsoka says, grinning. You smile at her and pull her in for a hug. You then hug the other two, although with Anakin it is a bit awkward.

'I'm guessing you must leave,' you say.

'I'm afraid so,' Kenobi confirms. 'Take care, [Y/N]. And if you need our help again, let us know.'

'Thank you,' you say. 'And if you need my help, feel free to do the same.'

'Will do,' Tano says with a smile. You nod at them and leave to your room. Skywalker looks after you, hesitating.

'I'll be right back,' he finally says after a minute and hurries after you. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan exchange a look.

'Do you think they will make up?' she asks.

'I hope so,' Kenobi sighs. 'For all of our sakes.'

*

Anakin knocks on the door and enters after hearing a quiet invitation. He finds you by the window, looking outside.

'I thought you have to go,' you say.

'They can wait a bit,' he responds and walks to you. 'I… We have to talk.'

'Nothing changed,' you say quietly.

'You said you feel the same,' he argues and stops behind you. 'That changes everything.'

You turn to face him. He sees pain in your eyes. And a plea to stop this conversation.

'You're still a Jedi,' you remind him. 'Relationships are forbidden for you.'

'I don't care,' he whispers and grabs your chin gently. 'My mind keeps wandering back to you and I don't know how to stop myself from constantly thinking about you and us and everything.'

'You must try,' you say. 'Anakin… I… truly… deeply… love you.'

With each word you lean toward his lips. You both let your eyelids drop a little.

'But if we allow this love to become something more, we would be forced to live a lie,' you whisper with tears in your eyes. 'And it would destroy our lives.'

'Don't you think our lives are going to be destroyed anyway if we're forced to kill the love between us?' he asks. 'I know I can't live without you. And you said you can't marry anyone else. Please. There must be a way we can have this.'

'You'd have to leave the Jedi Order,' you say and shake your head. 'And I can't let you do that. You… you love being a Jedi, helping people. I can't take that away from you.'

'I don't want you to be taken away from me neither,' he whispers and takes your hands in his. 'It would be even worse. Loosing you. I can't tell you how many times I've fallen asleep with you on my mind and woke up the same.'

You look at him with surprise. And you realize it was the same with you. Even before he told you his feelings, after you ended your goodnight's conversation, he was on your mind when you were falling asleep and he was the first person you thought about when you woke up.

'It physically hurt to be away from you,' he whispers, putting a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

'I know what you mean,' you say quietly. 'I… but we… All lies eventually blow up in the faces of liars. You'd be thrown away from the Order. I'd brough a scandal to my family's name. It's too risky.'

'My love, you are worth every risk,' he murmurs and touches your forehead with yours. Your heart skips a beat at those words.

'How would that work?' you ask after a long moment. Anakin's heart fills with hope.

'Everyone will just think we made up,' he starts. 'We've already been calling each other. And… I can come here sometimes. I'll tell Obi-Wan I want to see my mom. He won't be happy but he'll understand. We'll sneak out and… be a couple of young people in love. We can tell my mom. I'm sure she's going to help us.'

'No one else can know,' you say after a beat. 'Not Ahsoka nor your battalion. Nor my family. I hate that.'

'We'll tell them one day,' he promises. 'Maybe… after I become a master in the Jedi Council, I can convince the others to change some of our way.'

'It can take years,' you sigh and smile at him. 'But it can work. And I… I don't think I can live without you anymore.'

He beams at you. You can't look away from his sparkling eyes. You cup his cheek.

'I love you,' you whisper. He mirrors your action.

'And I love you,' he murmurs and nuzzles your nose with his, 'my star.'

You blush at the nickname. You try to think of one for him. But you decide in the end it will come with time.

'So, we're doing this?' he asks. 'Can… can I really call you mine?'

'I'm yours,' you say and look him in the eyes. 'My mind, body and soul belong to you, Anakin Skywalker. My heart beats for you.'

'And I belong to you,' he says, pressing your free hand to his chest. 'This is yours. You are the most important person in my life. I swear to always love, cherish and protect you. I'm yours to do as you please.'

You smile at him. You can't believe you're actually doing this. But you want it. You need it. Need him. Like the air you breath. Or maybe even more.

'Does it mean I can kiss you now?' he whispers, dropping his eyelids a bit.

'Please…' you whisper, doing the same. In a second his lips are on yours. You sigh and kiss him back, feeling complete.

'My love…' you murmur, putting your hand around his neck. 'Anakin…'

'My star…' he gasps. '[Y/N]…'

You pull away after a long moment, panting for breath. You smile at each other and freeze when you notice something in the corners of your eyes. You turn, your faces white.

Lanash stares at you calmly, barely restraining her smirk. She puts away the basket of laundry and clasps her hands together.

'Your secret is safe with me,' she promises and grins. 'I'm always rooting for true love.'

You and Skywalker chuckle and let go of each other. He clears his throat.

'I should go,' he says. 'We must leave and I'd like to see my mother.'

'Of course,' you say and smile. 'Call me tonight?'

'Oh, definitely,' he promises, beaming, and kisses your hand. 'My lady.'

You snort and shake your head. He turns and hurries away. But suddenly he stops, hurries back to you, cups your face and kisses you passionately. He pulls away and runs off, leaving you blushing and dazed.

'I want someone to kiss me like that,' your maid sighs. 'I'm more than happy to help you keep your relationship a secret. But we must tell C-3PO. He can help as well and I can't keep a secret from him.'

You smile, happy how close she's become with your protocolar droid. You sigh.

'But no one else,' you say. She salutes.

'Yes, my lady,' she says and grins. 'Now, tell me what exactly he said to convince you.'

Outside, Anakin hurries to Obi-Wan. They talk quietly for a moment, then Skywalker heads to at least talk for a bit with his mother. The King joins Kenobi.

'He was smiling,' he notices. 'Does that mean they made up?'

'I believe so,' the Jedi says and sighs. 'Thank the Force. He was hard to live with during their argument.'

'The bond between them is really strong,' Andrrei says and glances at his companion. 'Does it worry the Jedi Council?'

'They believe they're simply allies and nothing more,' Obi-Wan answers. 'And it will stay that way.'

Your father nods, satisfied. He looks at the window to your room. He thinks he sees your silhouette.

'I'm very glad she came to you for help,' he says. Kenobi opens his mouth to protest. The King raises his hand.

'Please, Obi-Wan,' he says and looks at him with amusement. 'What kind of father would I be, if I didn't know where my children are? But since I'm also a king… I could only watch from afar. And hope you'll complete the task. Thank you for this.'

'We're always ready to help,' the Jedi says with a smile and offers his hand. Andrrei shakes it.

'Remember, you can count on ours as well,' he says. The men continue to chat politely until Anakin returns. Then the Jedi go on their ship.

'Are you and [Y/N] good, then?' Ahsoka asks Skywalker.

'Yes,' he answers, barely stopping himself from grinning.

'We're happy to hear that,' Kenobi says and looks with worry at his former padawan. 'Just remember to be careful.'

'I know,' his friend says, nodding. He hates he's lying to them, but it's for everyone's best interest.

The ship starts. Anakin walks to a window. He sees you on your balcony. You smile, noticing him as well. You're sad to see him go. But you know you'll see him again. So, you raise your hand in goodbye and he responds in kind, wishing he could just jump and have you in his arms once more. But until then, he'll settle for calling you in the evening.

Thank you for reading! I'm sorry for ending like that, but I promise everything will work itself out. Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60214684/chapters/154262800

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren

A Song for Two

Story Summary: Mandalorian tradition dictates that a song be sung for their fallen. As the war between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance rages on, tensions simmer between Ursa Wren and her daughter, Sabine, who is unwilling to finish her own song before the worst comes to pass. It falls to Alrich, her husband and Sabine’s father, to keep the peace and find the reason why his daughter refuses to complete the task.

“No?” Ursa Wren asked, her voice cracking like thunder. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

The leader of Clan Wren stared down at the holographic image of her daughter, Sabine Wren, emanating from the war table in their ancestral home’s main hall. The image was slightly hazy; an unfortunate side-effect of the long distance call between Krownest and Lothal, but there was no mistaking the defiant look on Sabine’s face.

Sabine was wearing a flight uniform, as opposed to her usual Mandalorian armor. It was a new development that rankled Ursa constantly.

So similar to your mother, observed Alrich Wren, husband to Ursa and Sabine’s father. Just like she was at your age.

The thought made him smile a little, despite the circumstances. Hearing the two bickering like this - like in the old times before the Empire came - assured him that the war hadn’t taken away everything important to him.

At least, not yet. Which was something that he and Ursa were increasingly aware of with each passing day.

Sabine crossed her arms and replied in a terse tone. "I don't see what the big deal is, Mother."

Ursa exhaled sharply through her nose. Alrich barely repressed a chuckle.

His wife threw a death glare at him before replying through gritted teeth, "It is Mandalorian tradition, Sabine. We all must have our own song ready to be sung in case we fall in battle."

Sabine shrugged. "Is there a deadline for this or something?"

"Preferably before you die," Alrich said, dryly.

His daughter glanced at him with a small smile. Ursa rubbed at her temples.

"Sabine," she said, after a long moment to regain her composure. "Please give us the song at your earliest opportunity."

"I'm not exactly overflowing with free time at the moment, Mother. I'm busy with the defense of Lothal and my training with Ahsoka."

Alrich winced. The two subjects that Ursa were touchy about and Sabine had just dropped them both in the same sentence. Especially after the bickering she had just endured.

Ursa straightened her back and glared at Sabine with a new fire raging in her eyes. "Lothal. Remind me again why you're there and not here on your home world."

Sabine narrowed her eyes. "I made a promise to Ezra. Mandalorians keep their promises, if I recall. We stake our honor on it."

"Your Jedi friend has been gone for how many years now? Did he give a time limit on this burden he handed to you?"

Alrich watched his daughter's eyes blaze with a fire equal to her mother's. "It is not a burden," she snarled.

Ursa slammed the table, causing the hologram to sputter for a brief moment. "You should be here! With your family."

"Ezra is family. He and everyone else on the Ghost were more of a family to me than anyone on Krownest ever was," Sabine said, coldly.

"Everyone here is still alive, Sabine. We have that over your beloved Jedi, at least."

Alrich wilted at Ursa's remark. He closed his eyes and waited for Sabine to go nuclear.

She didn't disappoint. "He's not dead, Mother. But you are - to me." Her voice was empty of any rancor, any sign of outrage. Sabine spoke as if she was stating a fact, nothing more.

The hologram fizzled out. Sabine had cut the call.

Ursa stared at the spot where her daughter had been and then swore viciously.

Alrich sighed. "You went too far with that last one, Ursa. You know how much Ezra means to her."

Ursa turned to her husband, her eyes still simmering with rage. "The war with the Empire is raging and she sits safe on another planet. Doing what, Alrich? Playing Jedi? Upholding a promise to a dead friend?"

Alrich studied his wife. "You think she's running away from her problems again."

Ursa snorted. "Think? No, I know she is."

He stepped closer to his wife and held her hand. The physical contact shook Ursa out of her mood; she gripped back with a tight, affectionate squeeze.

"I don't think that's true," he replied, quietly. "She's changed. Sabine is trying to be better than she was before."

Ursa sighed, some of the tension releasing from her shoulders. "Training to be a Jedi? What is she thinking? As if she doesn't have a big enough target on her back."

Alrich smiled. "Our daughter always loved a good challenge."

Ursa eyed him, amused. "Wonder where she got that from," she said.

He snorted. "You, obviously. I seem to recall you butting heads with your own mother, more than once."

Alrich thought for a moment. "Actually, you butted heads with pretty much everyone you met."

Ursa grinned at him, and Alrich felt his heart skip a beat. Despite the wear and tear of the past civil wars, he still saw the fierce young woman he fell in love with at first sight burning at the core of Ursa Wren.

"I was talking about you, actually," Ursa remarked.

Alrich blinked at her. "Me? I was just a simple artist. I never did anything too crazy, last I remember."

"You were the only one bold enough to court me," she pointed out with a sly smile.

"Ah, true. Although 'bold' might not be the right word for how it was viewed at the time. Especially by your family."

Ursa said, "I thought of you as being brave. Especially since it worked." She reached out and stroked her husband's cheek fondly. "Either way you look at it, it doesn't matter since I liked it."

Alrich kissed his wife's hand. "Feeling better?" he asked.

Ursa nodded. "Your charm worked, as always. Thank you."

She looked at the war table with a sigh. "What will we do about Sabine?"

Alrich looked at his chronometer. "Sleep on it. It's late, my dear. We'll have a solution in the morning."

After ensuring that his wife was dead asleep, Alrich returned to the main hall and keyed in Sabine's call code into the console.

After a few seconds, the holo-projector lit up to reveal his daughter again. She was dressed in casual sleep wear this time, having ditched the flight uniform in preparation for bed.

"What?" she asked.

Alrich sighed. "Hello to you, too, Sabine."

His daughter was sitting on what appeared to be a cot, holding a fresh brewed cup of caf. She looked tired.

"Your mother was out of line earlier with the comment about Ezra," he said.

"Stating the obvious," replied Sabine. "She send you to apologize?"

"No," said Alrich, firmly. "She doesn't know I'm doing this."

Sabine's look sharpened at him. "Doing what? You still want that damn song?"

"It's important, Sabine," Alrich said. "I don't understand why you won't do it."

His daughter leaned back against a wall and sipped at her caf. "First, explain to me why you and Mother are so insistent upon it all of a sudden. You've had ample time to ask me for it before."

"Okay," Alrich said. "That's fair."

He took a breath and said, "The Empire is withdrawing from Mandalore."

That got Sabine's full attention. "They've stopped the attacks?"

Alrich nodded. "Yes. We haven't had a sighting of their forces in over a month."

He watched his daughter's eyes, seeing the gears in her mind run through the calculations. "That's not good," she replied. "Could mean a major offensive is about to take place."

"Your mother and Bo-Katan are in agreement with you on that," said Alrich. "Rumors are swirling that the Empire has personally chosen Moff Gideon to lead a new campaign against all of Mandalore."

Sabine's eyebrows rose in amazement. "I've heard of him."

Alrich shuddered. "Yes. A reputation for brutality and cruelty - even within the Empire, he's infamous."

Sabine shrugged. "I'm sure you all will be just fine. You've swatted down all the previous Moffs and Admirals who came your way."

"True," Alrich agreed. "But this time could be different."

"It won't," Sabine said. "You'll beat him. Mandalore will stand."

She sipped more at her caf. "Still haven't told me why you want my funeral song."

"Because this is a war, Sabine!" Alrich shouted.

Sabine flinched. Alrich rarely raised his voice. He decided to press on, while he had his daughter off-balance.

"Nothing is for certain, do you hear me? We want the damn song because should the worst happen to you, your mother and I want something - anything - to remember you by! Not just an empty suit of armor!"

Sabine stared at him. After a long moment, she said, slowly, "I know it's a war, Father. I know that."

"Do you?" he asked. "Your mother thinks you're playing Jedi and running away from your problems."

"I'm training, not playing. I'm serious about it. And defending Lothal is important to me."

"It's important to Ezra, you mean," he pointed out. "I know you made a promise but, Sabine, don't you think it's time to move on? There are other worlds that need defending. First and foremost, your own home being one of them?"

Sabine was silent. Alrich studied her.

"You consider Lothal to be your home," he said, quietly. "More than Krownest."

Sabine just looked at him. After a long moment, she nodded.

Alrich blew out a breath. "Honestly, I'm not surprised. Or even upset."

"You're not?" asked Sabine, surprised.

"No," he replied. "I'm just relieved that you have someplace that you can call that."

Sabine considered his words before replying, quietly, "You and Mother and Tristan are still my family, you know. I still love you all."

Alrich felt his heart tighten at her words. "I appreciate you saying that, Sabine. But a family should always stick together, no matter what. How we treated you back then - yes, we were doing it in your best interests, but it doesn't excuse our actions."

He looked at her, feeling his eyes begin to water. "We made you feel alone. And I will always regret that."

Sabine looked away for a moment, before saying, "It wasn't all bad. I met Kanan and Hera. Then Zeb, Chopper, and then . . ."

His daughter refrained from saying the last name, Alrich noted.

"Is that why you're training to be a Jedi?" he asked. "For your friend, Ezra?"

Sabine stared into her cup of caf. "He did a lot, you know," she whispered. "Not just for me; he saved a lot of other people."

Alrich nodded. "That's what Jedi do."

"No," said Sabine, suddenly. "That's what he did. It wasn't because he was a Jedi."

She looked up at her father with a bright smile. "It's because he was Ezra."

Alrich blinked at Sabine's smile; throughout his life, he had rarely seen a smile so pure and bright from her. Not since she was a small child, barely taller than his knee.

Feeling his fatherly instincts start to kick in, he wondered: Ezra Bridger - just how important were you to my daughter?

Something must have shown on his face because Sabine's expression turned into a frown. "What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

He coughed, hastily, to cover up his sudden suspicion. "Nothing, nothing. So - you're training to be a Jedi because, what, you want to be like Ezra?"

Sabine smirked and said, "Maybe I was just bored and wanted to try something new."

Alrich groaned. "Sabine, please."

His daughter just shrugged and took another sip of caf. "Hey, gotta have some secrets. It keeps life interesting."

Alrich snorted and then said, "So - about the song."

Sabine grimaced. "Fine. I actually did write it." She reached out of the picture and grabbed a datapad. After a moment of typing on it, she said, "There. Just sent it. Happy now?"

In a deadpan tone, Alrich responded, "Oh, absolutely." His personal datapad dinged with the arrival of Sabine's song. He opened it up and started to read through the verses.

"It's not finished," Sabine said, sounding frustrated. "At least I don't feel like it is. It's missing something."

Alrich, still reading through the verses, began to feel his eyebrows furrow; realization began to grow in his mind, slowly but surely.

Oh, I see what's missing, he thought, sourly. And my suspicions were correct.

Intuition suddenly sparked in his mind and Alrich looked up the first time Sabine had opened the file and the last time she had updated the file.

When he finished, he looked up to find Sabine staring at him, impatient. "Well?" she asked.

He considered her for a moment and then said, simply, "It's fine. I'll attach some notes and send it back to you."

Sabine groaned. "Great. More homework. Ahsoka already gives me so much."

Alrich laughed. "Is it alright if I share this with your mother?"

Sabine waved at him in a go-ahead motion. "If it'll get her off my back, then by all means."

"I'll make sure of it," Alrich promised. "I'll leave you be for tonight. Thank you for doing this, Sabine."

Sabine smiled at him. "It's for family. Family is important."

"Yet you gave us so much grief for it," Alrich replied, dryly.

"It's a Clan Wren specialty," Sabine responded.

He was about to cut the call - and then hesitated. "Sabine," he said.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yes, Father?"

"You've had this song in the works for some time. I saw the original date you started it."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while. Since I first ran away," she confirmed.

"The last time you updated this was shortly before . . . before the Battle of Lothal." He avoided saying 'before Ezra went missing'.

Sabine's face turned into an expressionless mask. "That's correct," she said. "Things got busy after that. I came back to it when I had free time but . . . I don't know. Couldn't figure out what was missing from the song. It doesn't feel complete."

Her statement was said a little too casually for his liking. "You really don't know why it feels incomplete?" he asked, peering closely at his daughter's expression.

Something stirred in Sabine's eyes - a faint sense of recognition - that she quickly shut down with an irritated look. "No," she insisted. "I keep saying that."

Alrich pursed his lips. "Alright, then. Keep working on it."

Sabine replied, "Great. Can I go to sleep now? Please?"

He rolled his eyes and cut the call.

The next morning, Ursa still found him sitting at the War Table, reading the datapad.

"What are you doing up so early? Did you even sleep?" she asked, worried.

Alrich rubbed at his eyes and showed his wife the datapad with Sabine's song on it. "You're welcome," he said, tiredly.

Ursa's eyes widened in amazement. "You got her song? How?"

"I talked to our daughter, instead of yelling," he replied. "You should try it sometime."

"You're half-asleep, so I'm going to let the sarcasm slide this time, Alrich Wren," Ursa said. She scanned the datapad, frowning.

Smiling a little, he asked, "You see it, too?"

Ursa looked up with a questioning look. "It looks . . . finished."

Alrich snorted. "Not according to our daughter. She's unusually blocked over this."

"Sabine? How so?"

He rubbed at his forehead, feeling the weight of his years. "She feels as though it's missing something."

Although it's not a some 'thing' really, he thought.

Ursa sat next to him and re-read the song verses in silence. After a while she said, confused, "I still don't see it."

Alrich sighed. "Sabine's right: it's missing something. However, you are also right in that it is, indeed, finished."

He paused and then added, "At least, Sabine's part is finished."

Ursa quirked an eyebrow at him in question and Alrich was almost violently reminded of Sabine doing it exactly the same way last night. "Her part? This is her song. It should all be her part."

He gently took the datapad from her and said, "It is. The whole song is Sabine's part. But the verses - look here, love. It's a give and take; a question, waiting for a response." Alrich highlighted some of Sabine's song verses to illustrate his point.

Comprehension began to dawn in Ursa's face. "It's a conversation."

Alrich nodded. "Not the exact term I would use, but close. It's a duet, Ursa."

Ursa looked at him sharply, understanding lighting up her eyes. "It's a song for two," she said, softly.

"Yes," Alrich said. "Two performers. And these verses are Sabine's part. What's missing is the other singer's part."

Ursa considered that for a moment. "She told you this?"

Alrich shook his head. "Sabine doesn't seem to know or understand."

Ursa looked at her husband, seriously. "Who's the other performer? Who does she want to share her song with?"

Alrich gave his wife a knowing look and said, quietly, "Ursa. You know who it is."

Ursa closed her eyes and laid her head in her hands.

He patted his wife on the back, affectionately. "Sabine never likes to make things easy for herself," he said, smiling.

"Or for us," Ursa replied, annoyed.

Alrich laughed. Ursa looked up and couldn't help but join.

When they were finished, Ursa rested her head on Alrich's shoulder for comfort. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Should we tell her?" she asked.

Alrich replied, "No. She wouldn't believe us, anyway. It's something she needs to figure out for herself."

Ursa sighed. "A Mandalorian and a Jedi. What an unexpected pairing."

"Hey, it'll make for an excellent song, at least," Alrich responded. "Clan Wren will definitely be remembered."

Ursa snorted.

She picked up the datapad and read through Sabine's verses again. "It makes sense now. I see how his part is missing."

Alrich nodded. "She needs him to complete her song."

After a long, poignant silence, Ursa said, "It's a love song, Alrich."

"That it is," said Alrich.

Softly, she said, "It could be a sad song."

Alrich took a moment to consider his reply. Finally, he said, "It's her song, Ursa. Sad or not, we will sing it anyway."

Author's Note: So, I'm on a Hadestown kick. It got me thinking about songs, and the power of songs, how they help a story continue to be told throughout history - and then I remembered that Mandalorians also have a thing about songs. Which is how this story came into being. Also, I've been wanting to do a story told from the viewpoint of Sabine's parents - and how they might potentially feel about Sabine having strong feelings for a certain Jedi.

[heretolurkandnothingmore]

WIP Wednesday

My first time participating! This is a snippet from my long-languishing Obikin fic about an accidental marriage through alien tattoo application. Among other things.

This part is from what should be Chapter 2, where Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka go undercover at a gala full of mobsters to try and catch a corrupt politician's criminal allies.

The gala enveloped them in a glittering, murmuring embrace of crystal and pearl. The clothing was extravagant, but beneath the flowing gowns and shawls hands tipped in exchange of messages, whispers and signs reached their targets and the Force thrummed with anticipation and danger - the manifold sound of an orchestra tuning their instruments.

To a knowing eye, it was clear which partygoer cast their lot with the Reds or the Blues. Overtones of crimson, carmine, mauve contrasted in the crowd with periwinkle and navy. Obi-Wan watched the flitting crowd and noted the key figures filling the board the night would be played on - Red, Blue, unaffiliated. He waited for his mark to arrive.

His eyes deliberately didn't seek out Anakin. He didn't need to. Their bond hummed in the back of his mind like a living thing. The inked Mark on his shoulder tingled with warmth of Anakin's soul touching his. There was no reason to come closer, no matter what Obi-Wan may want. What he shouldn't want.

It would break their cover to be seen together, anyway. Not to mention another glance at the young man's luminous A memory of helping Anakin with the cufflinks rose, unbidden. The remembered intensity in that gaze stirred something in him all over again, and Obi-Wan had to busy himself with a wine glass from the nearby buffet table.

"Damn," he heard through the bond. It took some fortitude not to whip around to look at Anakin.

Obi-Wan took a sip from the glass and let his gaze drift across the room. His former apprentice was on the other end, eating some sort of tart-shaped appetizer and looking pleased with himself. His voice rumbled low in Obi-Wan's mind.

"Master, try the food. You're tired of rations, too. Don't deny it."

Obi-Wan succeeded in not rolling his eyes and obeyed, grabbing a morsel off a passing waiter's tray. He bit into it with a startling crunch - and understood perfectly what Anakin meant. A striking taste, somehow both sweet and savory and unlike anything he's ever tried flooded his mouth. He exhaled slowly, savoring the moment. Anakin was right, they so rarely got to try new food.

He realized he was projecting his satisfaction through the bond and tried to repress a smile at the gentle tug of affection he was getting in return.

"Good?" Anakin asked, smugly.

"Very."

"I see you're enjoying the spoils of a criminal lifestyle."

"Don't gloat. They may be criminals, but you can't deny the civilized life can be enjoyable"

Suddenly, a cold presence in the Force enveloped him. Not like a trained Jedi or Sith feeling their way around, just the oppressive emptiness of a soul that has long since severed the connections even the most feral of creatures feel to the world around them. A black hole.

"Red lackey to your left." Anakin's voice broke through the sickening spell. "He's got the mark."

Obi-Wan turned, pretending to follow a woman in a indigo dress flowing past him. To his left, there stood a stranger. A man in a dark grey cape over a basic dark suit. At first he seemed like another hired muscle, but his cape was high-quality. A pair of silver embroidered wings peeked out from its inner lining. The man's cufflinks glittered with pale red crystals set into more silver. And Anakin was right, for right there, around the stranger's ear, bleeding into his ginger hairline, was the telltale crimson beak of the Reds' mark. A hawk's head.

The stranger turned, and for a second the yellowish frostbite of his gaze burrowed into Obi-Wan. It was paralyzing. Like a long-dead creature reaching into him with fingers of ice and greedy interest.

Obi-Wan's own Mark suddenly flared with heat and the stranger's gaze flicked past him at last - and across the room. Onto Anakin.

The man smiled.

[tealmisthams]

Ahhh I have to ask another that last Drabble was so good! For kiss roulette can you do number 38 please for fivesoka 👀💕

Thanks for another request! I hope you enjoy! 💙

Also posted on Ao3 here.

—

Prompt 38: A kiss while one party is carried

Fives’ heart pounded in his ears as he sprinted across the battlefield.

He’d been so focused on his own section of the firefight that, even though he’d taken note when the Jedi had engaged General Grievous, that piece of information had fallen to the back of his mind as he focused on the battle droids around him.

He’d been crouched with Tup behind the cover of a broken slab of concrete, when the flashing of green and blue lightsabers caught his eye. In the heartbeat that he glanced towards the Jedi, he caught the moment when Grievous struck and Ahsoka fell.

Fives felt as though his breath had been knocked from his lungs and his body subconsciously transitioned into autopilot. There was no longer time for precautions. Six SBDs remained in front of him and the ARC trooper swiftly dispatched them with six precise shots of his DC-17s.

Then he took off across the battlefield, his vision tunneling on the location where he’d last seen Ahsoka. Fives barely noticed the enemies that attempted to block him. He jumped, twisted, and discharged his blasters, disabling the oncoming droids without even thinking about it.

Finally, he made it to the open area where he’d last seen the Jedi. Grievous was long gone, as were Skywalker and Kenobi. Fives activated his rangefinder and frantically swept the clearing. There.

His breath finally returned when he spotted a figure behind a pile of rubble that matched the commander’s size. He’d found her, but that didn’t mean she was alright. He charged across the open area, not even bothering to check that there were no other enemies nearby.

Fives rounded the rubble pile and his heart leapt into his throat. Ahsoka was lying on her back, unconscious. A cauterized gash stretched across her right thigh and several cuts streaked her face.

Throwing off his helmet, Fives dropped to his knees beside her.

“Commander!” he gasped.

When she didn’t respond, he pressed two fingers to the pulse point on her neck and exhaled with relief when he felt her heartbeat.

The air around him had gone still, and Fives realized that the battle must have ended or at least paused for now. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed as such when he saw that his brothers had emerged from their cover and he could no longer spot any standing battle droids.

“Kix, get over here!” he shouted, as soon as he spotted the medic, not even bothering to use their comm channel.

Without waiting to see if Kix heard him, he turned back to Ahsoka, who still lay unconscious in front of him. Carefully, he lifted her into his lap, cradling her upper body with one of his arms. His heart clenched when she still didn’t stir.

“Commander, wake up.” He felt his voice threatening to crack as he spoke. “Ahsoka, please.”

Suddenly her blue eyes flew open and she nearly jumped out of his arms, but he held her where she was. Her eyes darted rapidly around her, trying to determine what had happened. Then her gaze found Fives’ and she seemed to deflate; she likely would have fallen over, if she weren’t being held up by his embrace.

“Fives?” she asked weakly. “What happened?”

“Grievous got you,” he told her. Then he released a ragged breath. “You di’kut, Ahsoka, you need to be more careful,” he tried to scold, but he couldn’t control the shaking in his voice.

“Says the ARC trooper running around a battlefield without a helmet on,” she countered. She reached up to brush the backs of her knuckles against his cheek, sending shivers through him under his armor.

“Commander, are you alright?” Kix’s approach saved Fives from having to respond.

“I’m fine, Kix,” Ahsoka responded calmly, her voice now having regained some of its usual strength.

“That’s good to hear.” The tension in the medic’s shoulders seemed to ease slightly at her reassurance. “Will you be alright until we make it back to base?”

“Of course. Thank you, Kix.”

“Yes, sir. I can send someone over to help you walk back-”

“No, I got it,” Fives interrupted.

“If you say so, Fives.” The medic raised his hands as if in surrender, then turned to continue cataloging the company’s casualties.

“Can you help me up, so I can walk?” Ahsoka asked, glancing up at Fives.

He flashed her a half-smile. “Nope.”

He grabbed his helmet from where it had fallen beside him and clipped it to his left hip. Then, keeping one arm around Ahsoka’s shoulders and hooking the other under her knees, he stood, lifting her with him. He’d never carried her before, but he wasn’t at all surprised at how light she was.

“I was being careful, you know,” she muttered, as he began walking.

Fives couldn’t help but chuckle. “And not at all reckless?”

“Well…”

He laughed again when she hesitated and scrunched her nose.

Then he sighed. “Just try not to get hurt next time. Please?”

She looked up at him and something flashed across her blue eyes, though he wasn’t certain what it was.

“Fine,” she agreed, after a moment. “Only for you.”

“I’ll take it.”

An unfamiliar warmth swelled in his chest and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She sighed and leaned her head against his chest, and he held her a little tighter as he carried her the rest of the way back to their base.

[isagrimorie]

#the relief in ahsoka's voice#that she could once again think of anakin in a positive light#she could embrace the whole of him again#the good and the bad of anakin#she knew him from before his fall#but she also knew the flaws of anakin#she must have spent a decade#struggling if she knew anakin at all#if she could have stopped him#if she can#but after seeing anakin again in the world between worlds#its like ahsoka can breathe again#but anakin's choices were his own and its not#on anyone else's shoulders#also anakin is#is a do as your told not as i do teacher#ahsoka's waiting to exhale moment

Star Wars Ahsoka, 1E07 - Dreams and Madness

It's like, for the first time in many years, Ahsoka can breathe again.

Bonus:

The box of Anakin's memories.

[forever-rogue]

Sweetie idk if this is a request or not, but I NEED some Kenobi fluff after the last episode 😭😭 my heart can't take it. I just want obi wan to be happy, also anakin even if it's a bit too late. My heart is hurting but in a good way but also not

AN | Here you go, some soft fluff! Set sometime during the clone wars era, in which we pretend that everything ends happily ever after 🥰 Enjoy!

Pairing | Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.2k

Masterlist | Main, Star Wars

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“There you are,” you found him sitting in the gardens, observing one of the many groves of flowers, intently studying them as if they held the secrets to the galaxy. He turned around at the sound of your voice, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth, “I should have known that you’d be here and made it my first stop.”

“Hello there,” there was an amused lilt to his voice as he subtly pressed a kiss to your forehead. Unable to stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a hug, “I did not realize I was so missed.”

“Always,” you promised, ruffling his hair and brushing it out of his face, “and where is your young padawan? Hiding not-so-subtly away with the senator?”

“He thinks we do not know, but it is so blindingly obvious it’s a wonder half the galaxy does not know,” he huffed with a bit of laughter before picking one of the colorful blossoms and gently tucking it behind your ear, “perhaps he should learn a thing or two from us.”

“That is why you are master and he is padawan,” your whole face flushed with warmth at his sweet, intimate little gesture, “for now.”

“For now?”

“Of course,” you started to walk around the garden, reaching for his hand so he would join you, “he will not always be your padawan. Anakin is a lot of things, my love, but he is powerful. Perhaps one day he will rival you. I’d say he’s already following in your footsteps.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “just how so?”

“Taking on a rogue and fearless apprentice of his own, sneaking around with the woman he loves…tell me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who does that sound like?” you grinned at him, proud of yourself for rendering him speechless for a few moments.

“Ahsoka is much less reckless than Anakin ever was-”

“I don’t know about that,” you both laughed, and a sense of ease and peace settled over you. You liked this - spending uninterrupted, quality time with him…it made you earn for it everyday. Especially when he had to leave for longer missions and all you could do was wait for him to return, “either way, he is much like you. He looks up to you, Obi-Wan, he is your brother. Perhaps we shouldn’t tease him too much and let him keep his little secret for now.”

“It won’t always have to be like this,” you’d sat down on one of the secluded benches and he followed suit, sitting as close to as humanly possible. Obi-Wan reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, studying them as though they were the most precious thing, “things will be different. We will have the family we want, a home we build…”

“I am not holding my breath in anticipation of the future, Obi-Wan,” you rested your head on his shoulder, exhaling softly, “I did not fall in love with you in the hopes of changing who you are, or having things be different. Even if it is always like this, I will not mind. I love you regardless, and nothing will change that.”

“You are more than I could have ever asked for,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before closing his eyes and resting his head on top of yours, “I do not deserve you in the slightest.”

“You have a flair for the dramatic,” you laughed, and oh. That sound was one of his favorite things ever and made his whole body vibrate with happy energy, “it is not about deserving. And even if it was, you would be more than deserving of me. The heart is a fickle thing but we do not choose who we love, it simply happens. For what its worth, I am glad my heart picked you.”

“And just how am I supposed to top that?” 

“You’re not,” you pulled back from him, moving so you were facing him. You brought your hands to his face, gently stroking his cheek, causing him to lean into your touch, “it’s not a competition. Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A few times here and there I do believe,” he pressed a kiss to your palm, “but I am not opposed to hearing it more often.”

“Oh dear,” you beamed at him, “I fear I must keep you humble before your ego grows too large. I’ll hold my tongue just in case.”

“I will just have to remind you of how beautiful you are, won’t I?” you could have melted right then and there at the sweet sound of his voice, “I have seen many things throughout this galaxy, but there is nothing that could ever match your beauty and heart.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

“Hardly,” he insisted, leaving in so his lips were barely brushing against yours, “I mean it, I would never lie to you, my darling.”

“I know,” you closed the miniscule remaining distance and gently kissed him, relishing in his touch and taste, “nor would I to you.” 

“One day we will not have to hide,” he was insistent, so sure of what he was saying that you believed him. One day things would be different, and it was all worth the wait. He was worth the wait, “this I promise you.” 

He reached for the delicate chain around your necklace, pulling out of your bodice to run his fingers over the ring that lived on it. He had given it to you some time ago, a promise of what was to come, a promise of the future. You hadn’t taken it off since. 

“I know, Obi-Wan,” you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he kissed you again, a gentle need and urgency behind his touch as you easily melded into him. 

“Master!” the sound of Anakin’s voice caused you to jump and pull back from Obi-Wan as you gently pushed him to the other side of the bench. There was a huge knowing grin on his face as he stopped in front of the two of you. He had impeccable timing as always, “oh, no need to hide on my account. I already know!”

“What are you doing here, my padawan?”

“We’re needed in a meeting,” you could tell he was holding back an eye roll, “if I must suffer through it, so must you.”

Obi-Wan sighed deeply, running a hand over his tired features as you giggled at him, “go on, my love, best not get in trouble. I will see you later.”

“Alright,” he looked between the two of you before standing up. He stopped for a moment to kiss you one last time before starting to follow Anakin, “I will see you later.”

“I count on it,” you promised, “see you soon, my love.”

[letitrainathousandflames]

Anakin, looking out the window of palpatine’s office: …and just like that, they expelled her. I asked Ahsoka to stay, but she was too hurt. All the endless love that they had promised her turned out to be conditional, and the order chose to bow to the republic instead of act independently on the matter, to investigate further and punish her on jedi terms if necessary. They just handed her over to be judged and jailed by a system that only wanted a culprit, proper investigations be damned.

Palpatine, looking pointedly at Anakin, stroking his shoulder for a moment: I see. I suppose this must be very painful to you, my boy. A deep, scarring ache that will never heal. You can’t be blamed if darkness breaches its way into your heart, and anger guides your next steps from now on. It is only natural.

Anakin: Yes… I’m starting to doubt the Order. To doubt their ways, their rules.

Palpatine, smiling softly: and who can blame you? They have been hindering you for so long…

Anakin: i… I’m thinking about taking some drastic… no, some extreme measures. Even thinking of it scares me. Maybe I shouldn’t-

Palpatine: now, now, my boy, any extreme ideas you have might be precisely the way to go about this matter. Now, while your feelings still ache and the sorrow of being abandoned yet again hurts your very core. And… you will have my full support.

Anakin, hopeful: are you sure? *he blinks his misty eyes, swallowing down thickly* I know what I’ll do will hurt the order, it might even destroy them.

Palpatine, desperately holding back a cackle: I will help you through it. Personally.

Anakin: *long exhale* well okay. That’s… that’s a relief. Give me a moment…

*anakin takes his bag off the floor, rummaging through it and pulling a series of items, placing them on Palpatine’s desk - three thick piles of flimsi, a pile of credits and a datapad*

Anakin, pointing at the items one by one: these are my goodbye letters to Obi-Wan, Rex and to the Order as a whole. The credits are to pay for replacements for Artoo and Threepio, I’m taking them with me. And the datapad has all my battle strategies that might be useful for the general they’ll put in charge of the 501st, although Rex could do just fine on his own, the man is amazing.

Palpatine, looking at the items and back up at Anakin: what…? I’m not understanding. Why would you send them letters? Didn’t you say you were going to destroy them?

Anakin: well, yes, my leaving might destroy them, but I think the letters might ease the pain. I explain everything in there - how this is too painful to me, how I can’t bear to keep fighting in a war that never ends while being unable to protect my mom in tatooine, the weight of being the chosen one, etc.

Palpatine: but…! But surely you know your place is in the order, right? Up until the very end of the war and not a moment less?

Anakin: yeah, I thought so, but all those talks with you really opened my eyes. You were right - they say I’m the chosen one but keep me from the most important meetings, they say I must be compassionate but ordered me to leave my droid behind to die, and now they expelled my padawan and I was the only one actually making an effort to prove her innocence. You were right all along - the order is outdated, selfish and lazy…

Palpatine: now, wait a minute- ugh! *Anakin hugs him tight*

Anakin: *beaming at palpatine* thank you so much for helping me see things as they are. I’m off now. Oh, and Jar Jar will represent Naboo in the senate from now on. Senator Amidala is leaving for indefinitely long vacations and she asked me to let you know.

Palpatine: wh-

Anakin, grabbing his bag and walking to the door: thanks for all your teachings, your excellency! I hope the republic wins the war! May the force be with you! Byeeee~

Palpatine, alone in his office:

Palpatine:

Palpatine: …fuck.

[hobiiwan]

mirror • cpt. rex

pairing: captain rex x gn!reader

warnings: post-order 66 angst, hurt-comfort but i thrive in the hurt

w/c: 1.6k

notes: i'm back with lots and lots of feelings bc i've been ghosted and it's 5 am so i should probably sleep but i hope you enjoy :D

lovely gif credit to @pieklalat!

Framed by distant moons and even further stars, the night sky never seemed more vast. If you closed your eyes, it didn’t take much to picture a Republic Star Destroyer slicing through the atmosphere of the moon whose gravity became inescapable, with you in it.

Glancing over your shoulder at where Rex had made camp for the evening, you could tell he was thinking it too. Though his eyes were closed, it was clear as watching a holofilm; reliving the searing heat of plasma bolts, shot from the blasters of his brothers, the ones he had served beside for years—the same ones he had buried just hours prior.

It felt as though there was a vice wrapped in a deadlock around your heart, constricting your chest until it threatened to collapse in on itself. You exhale sharply, willing yourself to push past the hollow ache of the now-dulled Force connection, the flashing faces of the clones and Jedi who had perished under the Order—the fear they had felt in their final moments. It was now your fear that you would never escape it.

The price of surviving the command settles atop your shoulders, making a home. A bitter, weighted reminder that you are here, alive, when you shouldn’t be—when you aren’t supposed to be.

You collapse onto the ground next to Rex, which pulls him back to the present. His eyelids flutter as he blinks slowly, once at you, then back up to the stretching expanse of the inky black overhead. He lets out a sigh, leaning up on his shoulders to cast a weary glance at his surroundings. “How long was I out?” He questions.

You reply with a thoughtful hum, “Not long. You need the rest, anyway.” It’s true. The day’s events have undoubtedly taken its toll on the both of you. But how does one go about resting after being hunted to the death?

“I’ll take first watch. Get some sleep, cyare.” He says, now sitting upright and then you know there’s no point in fighting it. You both need rest, but with the way Rex’s frame is pulled tense as a bow, his hand twitching ever-so-slightly towards his blaster, you know there’s no way he’d rest easy.

So, you offer him a victory, albeit a minute one. You pull his unarmed hand into yours and close your eyes, feeling the way he lets out a shaky breath, releasing some tension along with it. A victory—you’re still here with him.

Neither of you can be certain how long you stay that way. The low croon emitting from the transceiver is the only sign that time actually passes. Neither of you complain about the noise, either. It didn’t need to be said that the silence—this silence, was much too loud.

You do try to sleep, Rex gives you credit for that. Though, after turning for the fifth time (he counts) you give up and sit up beside him. He’s got his knees pressed to his chest, one hand curled tight around his blaster. In his other, his thumb rubs circles against the back of your hand. The answer to whether it soothes you or himself doesn’t matter.

Wordlessly, your head lowers to his shoulder, propped gently against the curve of muscle.

“Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a singer?” You murmur, glancing at the transceiver. You don’t recognise the singer on broadcast, though you do take note of the melody, slow and mellow.

Rex watches as you even try to hum along, as offbeat as you are.

“No,” he huffs something short of a chuckle, “you didn’t.”

He knows what you’re trying to do, sees it clear as day. Yet, as he watches your feet tap to the tempo of the ballad, he can’t stop himself from humouring your attempt to comfort him.

You nod eagerly, eyes widening as if to express your candor. “I was about to be one, too! Then the Jedi came and…”

Rex waits as you trail off, then clocks the far-off look in your eyes. He picks up where you left off. “Would you sing for me now?”

You return in a split second, your lips pulling into a bashful smile as you avoid his eyes. “I’m definitely rusty by now, I don’t want you losing your hearing because of me.”

The Captain nudges you teasingly, grinning when you break into soft laughter. “It would be an honour, though,” he quips.

He wonders how much of you has been hidden behind the mantle of a Jedi’s title. Who would you have been had you not been brought into the Order, raised from young to be one thing, and one thing only? Who would he be?

Once again, Rex is dragged out of his thoughts. This time, you’re tugging him to his feet. It takes an effort and a half, which you currently lack in your fatigued state.

As he looks up at you questioningly, you motion to the transceiver, dropping his hand to raise the volume. It’s enough to provide a comfortable backdrop instead of a desperate attempt to quell silence.

“Dance with me,” you propose softly, “please?”

“I don’t know how to, mesh’la.”

As if pointedly ignoring his feeble protest, your hand remains outstretched, beckoning his participation.

Maker, he’s only ever seen couples dancing on holofilms and is even more certain he has two left feet. But gazing up at your expectant self is like looking at a promise of escaping the sorrow he now knows as reality.

Really, it’s all up to him.

Rex swears he feels three times lighter from the way you beam in delight when he fits his palm into your smaller ones and helps you lift him to full height.

He stands awkwardly, clueless as to where his hands should go, how he should move. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Below him, you soften at the uncertainty tainting his features. Taking mercy on the poor man, you lift a hand to cup his cheek, garnering his attention.

“Put your hands on my waist,” you murmur, eyes twinkling when Rex’s hands fly up to root himself to you. Your own arms loop behind his neck and he takes it as a sign to pull you into his chest, no stranger to the position.

“and now we sway.”

Such a simple command, yet Rex feels like a fish out of water. His limbs are stiff, like the serenity of the movement is a stranger. To an extent, it is.

When you take over, moving him to the beat instead, he gratefully surrenders, allowing himself a moment of tranquility.

The only sounds that reach him become the silky notes of the singer and your soft, steady breaths. If he tries hard enough, he can pretend to be in a distant galaxy, where he is not a clone and you are not a Jedi, where the war is nothing more than a brash concept and his brothers are alive and well.

Rex doesn’t realise he’s crying until your thumb smooths away a tear rolling down his face. His eyes stay closed as he wills himself to keep pretending, but he can’t.

He is still a clone but you are no longer a Jedi. His brothers are gone.

You hold him when he finally breaks, cradling his head close when his shoulders tremble with the force of his sobs. His tears soak into the collar of your singed robes, but you truly can’t find the will to care—not when the man you love is falling apart, barely held together by the threads of your embrace.

“It wasn’t them,” he chokes, shaking his head, a wretched attempt to convince himself, “—it couldn’t be.”

At that, you’re positive your heart shatters. Stars, he doesn’t deserve this. You wish with all your might to take the pain away, to rewind every clock in the galaxy and then the next, but all you can do is watch.

“It wasn’t,” you nod, lowering your forehead to press against his, “not the real them. You know they loved you.” And by the Maker, you know.

Rex’s hands clutch tightly at your robes, as if letting go of that would mean letting go of you. The last tether to what is now his past, his only constant.

What if you hadn’t made it off the ship? What if Ahsoka hadn’t gotten the chip out of him in time? What if he had hurt you?

He briefly registers your voice calling his name, cutting through the despondent scenarios that could have, by any deciding factor, become his present.

“Rex, my love,” you plead, “please look at me.”

When he raises his eyes, he finds that yours are a mirror of his own. The anguish that parallels his agony. He feels you, your presence. He’s never understood much about the Force, but he thinks this is pretty damn close.

“I’m here,” you whisper. The promise of those two words anchor you both. “‘M not going anywhere.”

You mean it. If you believed it before, there was no chance in any star in the galaxy that anyone would be able to tear you away from him now.

For the current moment, you weren’t sure if there was a place to go, even if you wanted. Less than twenty four hours ago, you had been anticipating the end of the Clone Wars. Now, it feels like you’ve been thrown onto the losing side.

“What do we do now?” Rex asks, but you both know there isn’t an answer. There’s no precedent to go off of.

Two of the finest leaders in the GAR and the Jedi Order are lost, with no one left to follow them.

There’s nothing to do but move on.

“We keep living,” you say with a heavy sigh, burying your face into the crook of Rex’s neck, “we live for them. We’ll find a way.”

You always do.

[jaigeye]

Padmé and 94!!! Big smooch from Kush

send me a number (1-100) and a character and I’ll (write about) them based off of my spotify top playlist. @keldabekush 💞

READ ON AO3

lieee by tori amos. "i know you wanna save every little hair on my head, you little arsonist/i know we're dying/there's no sign of a parachute/why can't it be beautiful?/why's there got to be a sacrifice?"

THE BUTCHER

There are roughly seventy-five trillion cells in the human body. 

This is a rough estimate, as most things are. There are more cells in a body than living beings on Naboo; even Coruscant has only three trillion people. Padmé likes to keep track of these things- numbers make sense, biology is quantifiable, a census can track a population, a heart monitor can count the beats of a heart. Hers runs too fast right now for her to count. Padmé sees the lava flowing around her, but she does not feel it. 

There are seventy-five trillion cells in a human body, she thinks, and in that moment it feels like every single one is being ripped apart.

She was dead a moment ago and now she is alive. This fact alone is already difficult to comprehend, but her strange hyper-awareness of the world around her compounds with her existing bafflement and tips her over the edge into terror.

She laments that she doesn't know how many midichlorians are held in a force-sensitive body. If she knew, maybe Padmé could quantify her pain. That's what this is, isn't it, the Force has resurrected her? It's brought her back to life?

Ahsoka told her once that the same thing had happened to her. She'd been dead, and then alive, though when she whispered into the palm she cupped to Padmé's ear she confided that she had not come back unchanged. How miraculous. To think then that brave, glorious Ahsoka was the Jedi's little sacrificial lamb until they found someone else to execute. 

Her throat burns. It's raw from screaming, crying, howling at Anakin. She has Anakin's blood under her nails where she'd clawed at him in desperation. She raises her hand to brush the skin of her neck and finds the imprint of a hand-shaped bruise, there, digging into her trachea.

The one greatest tool of her life- her voice- has been taken from her. 

Padmé spits blood and scrapes herself off the ground.

She keeps waiting for the pin to drop, for everyone to leap out from behind a pillar or wall and shout surprise, like it's a party with fanfare and not the death knells of democracy. The genocide around the galaxy isn't real if she doesn't think about it, but it's all she can think about, so everyone is dead. 

Except for her. She ought to be, but she's not. Judging by the kick in her belly, neither is her child. 

Trudging over the edge of the cliff, Padmé peers down at Mustafar. She's been here before, she thinks, in a dream, a vision, she has waded through these red-hot waters and awoke screaming. She clutches the bannister. Below, two lightsabers swing in a flurry of motion, arcs of light so blinding she cannot see the fighters. They are out for blood, each of them.

So is she.

Padmé cannot run or leap to the surface like a Jedi can, but she is smart, and- she freezes. Her hands tingle fiercely. Though back from the dead, she feels larger than life! Isn't that strange? Unusual? Like some dark petal unfurling within her she feels knowledge and power at her fingertips. More now than ever before.

The toes of her boots touch the very edge of the platform. Below, a rock face is just flat enough that she may find purchase on it to safely cross the bubbling lava.

When she was just a girl, Sabé told her that courage requires only initiative. She inhales, exhales, and takes initiative. Padmé falls. Her braid whips in the air behind her, and she lands flat on her feet, weightless, as though in water.

It seems that gravity is no longer her master.

She cannot take any glee in the realization, not when her world is gasping it's dying breaths, but she can smile through the soot and sweat and tears. This much she allows herself.

Across the fire the men still fight. Obi-Wan leaps to the high ground; Anakin looms below. 

Anchored to the spot, she clutches her swollen belly and watches her husband's limbs be severed in two swift motions.

Obi-Wan leaves, in the end. He leaves him there, percolating in the sludge of lava and resentment. She's seen Anakin's rage up close. She has felt it wrapped around her throat. Suffering will not satisfy him, not now, when he is no longer begging for scraps but simply fighting for his Masters praise, uncaring if they swing a hand at him so long as they clap when he mauls his next opponent. 

She sobs as she runs, leaping from stone to stone. Pebbles float around her; chunks of lava rock vibrate and burst into the air, spewing chunks that hover and hesitate around her. Her braid snaps in the air as she falls to her knees before him.

He doesn't even see her. He can't. His left eyelid has melted shut, and he does not open the right.

Padmé touches her belly. You could help him, the meek part of her mind says. Our children need a Father, says the meaner one. She reaches down to caress his deformed face. In another world, she loves him, their children love him, he does well. She knows better now. 

The Jedi eat their young.

In the air around him, she can now feel the vibration of the force, a scintillating and colorless warble of indescribable power. His hate bends around his love and the core crumbles, and snaps, is reformed again like a bone broken back into place. He lies at her knees, prone. 

She has no voice to use. Padmé's throat burns. Her hands now black with his broiled blood, fingertips trembling against his shoulders, she whispers to him through the Force; This will be my final act of mercy.

From her pocket, she withdraws the knife she'd come to kill him with. Anakin's single eye opens, yellowed in the iris and too weak to emote. He says nothing when she rolls him onto his side for a cleaner cut, like a loyal dog presenting his underbelly. In his eye he loves her. 

He watches her kill him.

Anakin goes limp. Her knife digs deeper with a sickening crunch, ensuring his spine is cleanly cut from his brain, like she'd seen the butcher do. She is many things, but never imprecise.

There are roughly eighty-six billion cells in the human brain, and she is sure to snuff out every last one. Padmé likes to be sure of these things.

[glimmerglanger]

Soooo…….HotR Codywan proposal snippet if you’re still taking requests? I feel like they’d be absolute saps about it and I am Soft

OOOOOH! Oh! They're going to be SUCH saps, fair warning! Let's have some family time and sweetness and a proposal on this fine Friday morning! (No spice in this snippet, only SWEET).

~~~~~~~

Autumn slipped away, eventually, and Cody wasn’t sorry to see it go. Ben’s civil case wrapped up towards the end of the season, leaving him with enough funds to cover the memorial costs for his uncle and some extra, besides.

Mostly, he knew Ben put the money towards his school expenses and loans, though he also insisted on paying half when they bought a new bed for Cody’s place, replacing the one they’d broken so impressively.

Winter brought with it true cold, the dropping temperatures no longer teasing at freezing. Often, the sun didn’t rise until long after Cody was already up and working, but he was used to that.

And he had someone warm to curl up with in bed after a long and chilly day, burying his nose against the back of Ben’s neck so many nights.

Ben mostly slept over at the ranch, though he’d kept the apartment. He said, when they discussed it again, that he thought he ought to at the least keep it until the end of the school year. He’d stayed there through most of his work during finals, but….

But, in general, he went to sleep beside Cody and woke up beside Cody. In general, he was there, sharing meals just the two of them or with the rest of the family, going to the triplet’s games, or taking Anakin for walks with Boba.

He was there on New Year’s Eve, watching with a bemused expression as Boba and the triplets helped Jango load fireworks into the back of the four-wheeler.

“Aren’t fireworks...generally a summertime thing?” Ben asked, leaning against the porch as they loaded up box after box.

“New Years is during the summer where I grew up,” Val said, coming down the steps, offering out steaming cups of coffee - decaf, Cody hoped - as she did. “Jango and I were used to New Year's fireworks. So…” She shrugged.

“Do you do this every year?” Ben asked, expression curious, and Cody left them to it, making sure the four-wheeler was appropriately loaded up. He’d handled fireworks the past few years, but Jango wanted to take care of setting them off again, with Rex and Ahsoka volunteering to help with the lighting, so…

So, he ended up sitting beside Ben, huddled out on the porch and wrapped up in a blanket as the four-wheeler set off into one of the nearby fields. “Warm enough?” he asked, feeling the heat radiating from Ben’s body, all along his side.

In fact, it didn’t feel that cold on the porch, not with so many of them sitting so close together. But the air bit, still, cold and crisp, even with the blanket of clouds overhead. There’d been flurries, throughout the day, and they were starting to come down more heavily, drifting through the air, heavy and white.

“Mm, yes,” Ben said, arm curled around him, shifting to make room for Wooley on the step below them. He looked tired - but nearly midnight was late for both of them, early risers by nature and habit - with darkened circles under his eyes.

“We’ll go to sleep, after this,” Cody promised him, and got a smile in return, sweet and fleeting.

“No sleeping yet,” Val said, wading through the pile of them, followed by Bly, who started handing out cups. They didn’t keep champagne flutes or even enough wine glasses. Everyone got what was available, coffee cups, tall glasses, and even a few mason jars, already filled.

Most of them contained sparkling grape juice.

Cody and Ben got champagne, by the smell of it, and Ben raised an eyebrow. “Don’t drink yet,” Cody told him, with a little grin, and Ben huffed a laugh, opening his mouth, only to be cut off by Echo, who stood quickly, holding up a hand.

“Get ready!” Echo shouted, everyone shifting around, vibrating when he started counting backwards from ten.

Cody nudged Ben at one, gesturing to his cup, and they all managed to drink more or less on time as, off in the fields, the first of the fireworks went off with a flash of brilliant color and a crash of sound.

Ben made a sound, both surprised and delighted, and Cody set down his glass, curled an arm around Ben’s shoulders, and pulled him over, kissing him as the first seconds of the new year ticked over, feeling something stretch out, filling up the entirety of the space inside his ribs, realization unfolding not in a flash but in a sweet, inevitable wave.

He stared at Ben, when they pulled apart, Ben turning to watch the fireworks lighting up the night, and knew that he wanted to kiss Ben every New Year’s for the rest of their lives, wanted to sit and watch fireworks with him, hold him after a long day at work, eat breakfast beside him--

“Hey, man, fireworks are that way,” Fives hissed in his ear, at some point, while elbowing him in the ribs, and Cody shoved back at him, but blinked and shook himself, turning his attention to the show up in the sky.

They’d gone all out.

They usually did.

The fireworks echoed out across the fields, the sound held close by the cloud cover. Cody knew, from experience, that there would be cars parked out along the roads leading to the ranch, neighbors and people from further in town, who came out to see the show every year, watching colors chase each other, heralding in another year.

Ponds started the cheer, when the last of the fireworks finished echoing, leaving bright afterimages on the inside of Cody’s eyelids, and they all pushed themselves up, gathering blankets and cups while excitedly talking, half of them cleaning up the porch while the other half of them lit out for the fields, going to help find the firework casings, making sure nothing had landed where it ought not.

Cody ended up standing at the sink, rinsing off glasses that Ben dried, listening in as Echo’s girlfriend - who had never attended before - talked to Ben, her hair pulled back and her cheeks rosy.

He was glad Ben had someone to make conversation with. Cody’s thoughts were buzzing, thrumming along. He felt...not quite distracted. More waiting, with the tension in his gut of anticipation and something larger.

It was snowing in earnest by the time the clean up was finished and Jango, Rex, and Ahsoka returned as conquering heroes, to cheers and applause. The flakes swirled around them when Cody and Ben finally managed to say their good nights, stepping off the porch and heading back to their space.

Cody held Ben’s hand, gloves in the way, both of them leaning together as they crunched across the frozen ground.

Cody made it to his porch before he pulled Ben to a stop, standing there in the softly falling snow and just...looking at him for a moment. Seeing the whole future, spread out around him, feeling - feeling everything, all at once, wild potential just waiting for him to embrace it.

And he’d never been any good at ignoring that feeling, at hesitating once he knew what he wanted. Indecision wasn’t a valuable skill in his career, nor a feeling he’d ever been comfortable with. He exhaled, just looking at Ben for a long moment, lovely and cold and--

Everything he wanted.

“So,” Cody said, tugging on both ends of Ben’s scarf, pulling him in closer, cold noses brushing together when he went on, the words just slipping free, like they were meant to escape his lips, “What would it take to convince you to marry me?”

He was close enough to see Ben blink several times in rapid succession, eyes so clear and so bright, even as Ben asked, “What?”

Cody felt his mouth curve, pulling on the scarf again, stealing a fast kiss as Ben’s hands came up to rest on his sides. “A nice ring?” he asked, thoughts running ahead, wondering what kind of ring Ben might want. Something practical, likely. He wasn’t the ostentatious sort. He kissed Ben again. “A big wedding?” Ben’s hands squeezed, his breath came out in a pant against Cody’s mouth. “A fancy honeymoon?”

“Are you - are you being serious?” Ben asked, voice wavering, and Cody could acknowledge that this was...a bit sudden.

But he knew how he felt. He looked at Ben and saw the future unfurling outwards and wanted it, wanted to make it his, to shape it into being.

He made a rough sound, let go of the scarf to cup Ben’s face, and pulled him into a proper kiss, long and deep. And, when he pulled back, Ben looking dazed, he said, “Yeah, Ben. I’m being serious. What would it take? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

The snow was starting to fall in earnest, thick flakes swirling around them, landing on the copper strands of Ben’s hair and his eyelashes. His cheeks were tinged red from the cold. Maybe from the kiss, but Cody didn’t want to presume.

Not even with Ben swallowing, staring at him without blinking, eyes searching.

Cody wanted to prompt him for an answer, even though it hadn’t been very long, perhaps a heartbeat. Maybe two. And then Ben exhaled shakily and said, voice thick and quiet, “Well. You could ask. Properly.”

Cody groaned, the sound torn from his chest, fingers clenching in Ben’s hair as he rasped, “Will you marry me, Ben?”

He felt Ben shiver, watching his eyes flutter, delightfully, and had a moment to grin - feeling victorious, that same heady kick that came with looking over at the timer during a competition and knowing he had the best time - when Ben murmured, “Yeah, Cody. I will.”

And then Ben was kissing him as the snow swirled around them and the world went on, unnoticed.

[triptuckers]

The Necklace - Captain Rex

Request: no Pairing: Captain Rex x jedi!reader Summary: Five times you and Rex have given each other your necklace, and the one time you wear it for the last time Warnings: major character death!!, angst, mentions of serious injuries, burning, blood, bruises Word count: 3.2K A/N: I always wonder why do I do this to myself .. anyway, my brain made me write this and put it out there. I deeply apologise for this feel free to send me ur therapy bills TAG LIST (all star wars fics): @parker-natasha​ @romanoffstarkovs​ @just-deka​

One.

It’s quiet in the Temple. You have to admit it’s rarely crowded in the halls. The Temple is quite a large building, and not nearly enough Jedi to fill it. And even if there were, at least half would be off fighting the war.

You’re grateful for the time you get to spend at the Temple. The long hallways always calm you down. No matter how long you had been away, it always felt good to come home to the Temple where you’d grown up.

It’s the place where you learned the ways of the force, where you’d spent hours reading everything you could find on the Jedi and their ways. You’d meditated in the gardens countless of times, and you’d found your family.

But most importantly, you met Rex.

He knew just as well as everyone else attachment was against the Jedi code. Still, you were pulled to one another by some sort of feeling you couldn’t explain. It made you want to spend every moment you got with him.

As your relationship blossomed, you knew you had to talk about the restrictions. You didn’t like it, but there were just some rules you had to follow, for both yours and Rex’ sake.

It didn’t stop you from occasionally sending a flirtatious wink his way, if only to watch his cheeks flush as he tried to remain focused on his tasks.

You were desperate for some kind of affection outside the safe walls of your quarters. When you were on a planet near the Outer Rim, and you waited as they refuelled your ship, you took the opportunity to check out the local market.

You found a beautiful, handcrafted silver necklace, and you just couldn’t leave it behind. When you got back to Coruscant, you showed the necklace to Rex, and you noticed how much he loved it.

When you wanted to give the necklace to him, he declined, saying it looked too good on you, that he couldn’t take it from you. So, you made a promise. The one wearing the necklace would give it to the one who wasn’t wearing it whenever they saw them, with the promise they’d be there to wear it again next time you’d meet.

Your walk around the Temple takes you through the silent halls. You don’t really notice where you’re going, your mind wandering off to other places. You turn a corner and see a door opening in the distance.

A few Jedi, Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda exit the room, followed by Rex and Cody. You smile at them and they all greet you as they go their separate ways.

Rex is deep in conversation with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody, but briefly stops when you pass him. He takes the necklace off and gives it to you with a smile. You return the smile as you put it on, and Rex continues his conversation with the others while you continue your walk, the necklace bouncing against your chest with every step you take.

Two.

You’ve done it a thousand times before, but landing near a battle is still something that could get your anxiety up. That creeping fear that a well aimed blaster shot could take out your engines and send you to the ground a lot faster than you intended, would never ease.

You hold on tight as the ship starts its landing.

The 501st and the 212th were already on the scene, fighting for their lives. Everyone had thought that they would manage, but that was before the Separatists sent in reinforcements. Because you and your men were closest, you received an urgent comm from Anakin and didn’t hesitate before gathering all of your men and heading towards their position.

Once you’ve landed and everyone has left the ship, you start giving out orders. Even though you’re not near the heat of the battle, you have to yell to be heard over the shouts and blaster shots from others.

You send your men to the frontlines while you take your second in command to look for the other generals and commanders.

As you’re running through the chaos, you’re contacting Anakin. Luckily, he responds almost immediately.

‘We saw your ship!’ he says loudly. ‘We’re on the right side, near the trees!’

‘Copy!’ you shout in your comm and you wave your second din command over, making for the tree line in the distance. You glance at the troopers as you’re running, trying to find Rex. He might be next to Anakin and Ahsoka, waiting for you to arrive. But you know Rex, and it’s also very possible he’s in the front lines.

It takes shorter than you expected to cross the battlefield. When you make it to the trees, you quickly spot your fellow Jedi, and Rex and Cody along with them.   Ahsoka is the first to notice you, and she waves at you as you’re running toward them.

You come to a halt in front of them, panting.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ says Obi-Wan.

‘Yeah.’ you manage to say in between breaths. ‘What’s our status?’ you ask as you take off your necklace and blindly hand it to Rex, who is standing next to you.

‘We’re suffering a lot of casualties.’ says Ahsoka, not taking notice in you giving Rex the necklace.

‘You and your men are much needed.’ says Rex, and you turn to look at him. ‘We’re severely outnumbered.’ he says as he puts on the necklace.

‘We have a plan, though.’ says Anakin, and he starts explaining it.

Three.

It takes you a while to figure out what caused you to suddenly wake. You didn’t have any plans or meetings you had to attend to today, and you had planned on a relaxed morning of just staying in bed.

Your legs are tangled with Rex’, and one of his arms is swung across your stomach. Mornings like these are rare, and you wish you could stay like this forever.

No war, no pain or suffering, no Separatist this or Jedi business that. Just you and Rex, holding each other.

Occasionally, you hear soft snores coming from his side of the bed. You raise your hand to softly run it over his back. It’s only then, that you realise it isn’t his snores that woke you.

You comm is beeping furiously on the bedside table.

For one of the first times, you’re seriously considering just ignoring it. You didn’t have any plans today, you even declined Ahsoka’s offer of a training session, stating you needed your rest now that you didn’t have any formalities to attend. And with rest you meant staying in bed with Rex.

But what if it’s important? Says an annoying little voice in the back of your head.

You groan softly, reaching out to try and get a hold of your comm. You can’t reach it, but you also don’t dare to shift, scared of waking Rex. So instead, you use the Force and let your comm device land in the palm of your hand.

‘Yea?’ you say. It’s Anakin who answers.

‘Hey, Y/N, do you think you’ve got time to go over some maps with me? I’m assigned to traveling with Senator Amidala, she needs to go settle another trade incident. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but these maps sure do.’ he says.

‘Can’t Padmé go over those maps with you if she’s the going to the planet in the first place?’ you ask, not wanting to leave your comfortable and warm bed.

‘She’s on Naboo. I’m supposed to pick her up on the way there.’ answers Anakin.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll come see you at your quarters in a few minutes.’ you say.

‘Thanks!’ says Anakin.

You sigh and throw the comm device on the bed. You look to your side and see Rex is still asleep. It makes you chuckle. You could probably drop a bomb on the building, and the sound just wouldn’t wake him up.

You slowly untangle your legs from his and lift his arm so you can get up. You silently get dressed before hovering over his body.

Kisses are pressed to his cheeks, nose and forehead. Rex only shifts a bit, but doesn’t wake up. You take the necklace off and carefully place it around his neck. With one last kiss, you leave your quarters and head for Anakin’s.

Four.

You exhale sharply when you land on your back.

‘And that-’ says Ahsoka’s voice above you. ‘Is how you take someone out when you don’t have your lightsaber on you.’

A small round of applause comes from the younglings you’re teaching. Originally, they were Ahsoka’s class but she asked you to join her in some examples, and you agreed. Though she hadn’t told you just how many times she was going to throw you on the ground.

‘Impressive.’ you say as you take a hold of Ahsoka’s extended hand and allow her to pull you to your feet.

‘All right kids.’ you say to the small group of younglings in front of you. ‘You’ve seen how it works now. Pair up with someone else and go try it out yourselves.’

They all excitedly pair up and get to work. You smile as you watch them struggle, thinking back to your own training sessions as a youngling.

‘I’m pretty sure we weren’t that small when we were younglings.’ you say to Ahsoka. ‘You were.’ she says, making you raise your eyebrows at her. ‘I’m taller than you.’ you protest, making her laugh out loud.

You watch the younglings for a while, correcting them every now and then. They’re very good for kids their age, and you can tell they’re fast learnings. You’re wondering if one of them might become your padawan, and about all the things you could teach them.

Just as Ahsoka tells everyone to take a break while she explains the next useful movement, the door to the training hall opens.

The clones didn’t train much in the Temple’s halls, but they did on the occasion theirs was too crowded. Or if they had been near the Temple and didn’t feel like traveling far.

A couple of the 501st have entered the room, and you scan their faces for Rex. He’s the last one to enter and you smile at him as he makes his way toward you. When he’s almost reached you, he takes off the necklace.

Just as he hands it to you, one of the younglings gasps loudly.

‘You’re Captain Rex of the 501st!’ he says.

Rex looks at him and nods. ‘That’s right kid. Keep up your training and I might see you out on the front some day.’ he says and the younglings look up at him in awe.

You chuckle at their reaction and shoot Rex a wink. He smiles at you, waves at Ahsoka, and then returns to his brothers to start their training session.

Five.

You don’t get a lot of free time nowadays. So when you do, you use it well. You’re currently in the gardens, meditating.

When you were younger, you didn’t like meditating very much. You would much rather be working on your lightsaber skills, than sitting in one spot of hours.

But as you got older, you realised the importance of connecting with the Force, and you started to appreciate alone time more.

Luckily, the gardens weren’t very crowded when you arrived. You took place in your favourite spot, closed your eyes and slowed your breathing.

After a while, you noticed other people’s presences in the force fading away one by one. Until you could feel no one else’s presence, and it was just you.

You’re unaware how much time has passed, when you sense a familiar presence coming closer.

You smile, but keep your legs crossed and your eyes closed. You hear footsteps coming closer, until they come to a stop right next to you.

There must be no one else watching, because you feel how Rex presses a kiss to your cheek. You then feel something cold be placed carefully around your neck. You smile again and after another kiss to your cheek, Rex leaves again, and you continue your meditation.

Six.

This war had taken too much from too many people. Everyone was tired of it, and everyone just wanted it to end. You were tired, too. You’d seen too many of your friends die, and too many innocent people you couldn’t save.

You weren’t a soldier. You’re a peacekeeper. But you can’t remember the last time you actually referred to yourself as one, let alone feel like it.

Still, the war raged on, like a hot fire turning everything in its path into ashes, leaving nothing but grief and sorrow behind. The war was unforgiving, merciless, swallowing everyone and everything in its path.

You couldn't stand by and watch anymore. Especially when all the fighting got too close for your taste.

You'd been sent to a planet you visited a lot when you were a child. It was a peaceful, neutral planet. Until the Separatists came to claim it. The planet's original inhabitants didn't have the proper training or recourses to fight, so the Republic sent you and your men there.

When you got to the planet it was nothing but chaos. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the planet for its strategic location. It seems they would do anything to get their hands on it.

Including wiping out an entire race of people.

You couldn't let that happen. You had been right there to see so many people get injured or killed because of the Separatists. You wouldn't stand by and watch yet another peaceful planet be taken.

The Separatists were using a new kind of droid, one that could follow orders all at once because of one single command center. You'd sent your men to keep fighting on the front lines, and to protect the people.

You would disarm the command center, so their commands couldn't get to the droids on the battlefield.

But you weren't an expert on shutting down such a massive command center on your own. While thinking back to all the happy memories you made in the past when you visited this planet, the only option you could think of was to blow up the entire command center.

You didn't have any explosives on you, so you decided to fling both of your lightsabers into the power generator. At the time, you didn't even know if it would work. Turns out it did. Maybe it worked a little too well.

The blast was enormous. You successfully blew up the entire command center, and your men could pick the droids off like target practice.

But when your second in command didn't hear back from you, he sent a few men to go and look for you.

They found you near the center of the blast, severely injured and barely alive.

They rush you back to the ship and on the way back to Coruscant, while the medical droids aboard the ship do the best they can. But they're losing you, and it's unwise to move you at this point, so they keep you aboard the ship.

Having heard of your state, both Anakin and Ahsoka rushed to the ship you're on in the hangar.

They watch anxiously as the medial droids fuss over you. Ahsoka can see your body is as good as lost, but she can still sense your presence in the Force. It's all she can hold on to.

Meanwhile, Anakin is trying to get a hold of Rex. He'd been suspecting something was going on between you and his captain. He figured if anyone needed to be there, it's Rex.

'Yes?' says Rex when he finally answers his comm.

'Rex, you need to get here.' says Anakin, voice slightly breaking as he talks. He was so terrified to lose you.

'Everything alright, sir?' says Rex.

'It's Y/N.' says Anakin.

Rex is quiet for a while.

'Rex?' says Anakin.

'Where is she?' asks Rex, and they can all hear how he tries to keep his voice steady.

'On the ship in the hangar. They just arrived but they can't move her.' says Anakin.

'I'm on my way.' says Rex.

Anakin knew for a fact Rex was nowhere near the hangar, but he arrives there in mere minutes. He must have ran all the way here.

Ahsoka stops Rex before he can enter the room you're in. Rex is breathing heavily, pressing a hand to his side which is aching from the sprinting.

'Rex.' says Ahsoka softly. 'She's not-'

But Rex doesn't let her finish, he pushes her aside and enters the room.

He nearly breaks at the sight of you. Rex blindly reaches for something to steady him as he stumbles on his feet, and Anakin catches his arm.

Rex' eyes fill with tears as he looks at you.

This is not how he remembers you. This is not how you looked when you cheerfully waved him goodbye as your ship took off.

The robes you always wear are covered in dust and ashes. There's burn marks all over them. On some places, the fabric of the robes was completely gone, showing the burn wounds on your skin.

The side of your head is crusty with a mixture of dried blood and dirt. One side of your body is littered in bruises, from where you must have hit a wall.

'There was a blast.' mumbles Anakin. 'She blew up the generator and disarmed all of the droids. She saved an entire planet from the Separatists.'

Rex presses a hand to his mouth and mumbles something in Mando'a which Anakin doesn't understand.

He slowly approaches the bed, one hand reaching out to hold yours. His other hand is clutched around the necklace he wears.

This wasn't happening. You still had to win the war, get your own apartment for the two of you, tell war stories to new friends. This couldn't be the end of your story. This couldn't be his last memory of you.

Rex lets go of your hand to stroke your cheek.

Anakin and Ahsoka leave the room, giving Rex a moment of privacy.

'Wake up, mesh'la.' says Rex softly, voice breaking at almost every word he says. 'Wake up so I can give you the necklace. You promised you'd always be there to take it from me when we'd see each other.'

And you do wear the necklace one more time. Rex slid it around your neck, and buried it along with your body.

And every battle he fights in the future, he does in the name of his beloved General Y/L/N. There was no reason to keep it a secret any more. He'd dedicate every single fight to you. He owed you that much. He kept your memory alive.

Every night, his heart aches because of the absence of your shared necklace. The absence of your love, and your promise to always be there.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) Captain Rex x Reader: After the Escape

   (Author’s Note:  I’m like internally screaming right now because I love Rex and this hit the spot.  Hope you enjoy!

Warnings- mentions of the Zygerrian episodes and slavery, some injuries)

   You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to help put your mind at ease as you stood in a nook in a hall aboard the Republic cruiser. You had expected the mission to be difficult, but you had not anticipated the events to play out the way they did.  The mission to Zygerria to free the people of Kiros had been successful, but not without hardship.  Suddenly, you felt a familiar presence approach from behind.  A warm hand found yours with the gentle brush of your fingers.  You grasped it, sighing when you felt an armored chest touch your back.

   “Here,” Rex murmured, and you saw brown fabric out of the corner of your eye.  You gratefully accepted your jedi cloak that he offered up to you.  Ever the gentleman, he looked the other way as you eased it over your form with a wince.  The outfit the Zygerrians gave you could’ve been worse, but it certainly wasn’t as modest as the robes you were used to.  At the sound of your wince, Rex’s gaze snapped back to you.  “Are you okay?”  

   You frowned when you took in his battered state.  His time on Kadavo did not look as if it was pleasant.  Neither him nor Obi-Wan were in good shape when they boarded the cruiser.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile.  “I was working in the palace, remember?  The uniform wasn’t the greatest, but it was nothing like what you and Obi-Wan had to deal with.”  You had been through more than you’d let on.  Rex had already been through a lot, and you didn’t want him to worry about you on top of it.  He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t say anything more on the matter.  He simply pulled you into a gentle embrace, letting you bury your face in his shoulder and breathe another sigh of relief.  “I’m glad we all made it out.”

   He hummed in agreement, his hand running up and down your arm in a repetitive, soothing motion.  You were able to hold back the wince that time, but there was no keeping Rex from noticing the way you tensed.  He took your hand in his and lifted it, letting the sleeve of your robe fall down your arm.

   “They...they hurt you,” he said.  You followed his gaze to the dark splotches on your wrist that had begun to bloom.  Rex’s brows furrowed as he inspected the wound and lifted your other hand to see a matching bruise there as well.  “Those kriffing-” he growled under his breath.

   “It’s over now.”  You tugged your hands away from his.  “Besides, I’m not crazy about them hurting you either.”  Strangely enough, tears had begun to well up in your eyes.  Not once during the mission had you succumbed to feeling hopeless enough to shed a tear.  Only when seeing your loved one covered in soot and with marks of his own did the emotions finally hit you.  “I’m sorry, Rex.”

   He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head so he could look into your eyes.  “What are you sorry for?”

   “That we were separated.  I should’ve been sent to Kadavo.”

   “You did your part.  You followed the plan and arrived with the General and Commander.  It was very important.”

   “I know, but…” you paused as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek.  “I wasn’t going to.  I was going to forsake the plan.  That’s how I got these,” you gestured to your wrist.  “I acted up in hopes that they’d send me to Kadavo, but they didn’t.  I was punished instead.”

   “_________.”

   “I know, I shouldn’t-”

   “__________, I’m trying to tell you that I don’t blame you.”  He cupped your cheek and leaned in to gaze into your eyes.  “If I could have escaped Kadavo sooner, I would’ve done the same.  I just wish you hadn’t put yourself at risk.”

   “It was nothing.  Besides, it made me less appealing to my captor.  He wasn’t interested in such a rebellious female.”

   “Good, because if he touched you…” The protective fire in his eyes diminished to be replaced by intrigue.  “Wait, what did you do to him exactly?”

   “I sort of roundhouse-kicked him in the face in front of the queen.  Made Anakin laugh.”

   Rex snorted, pulling you into another embrace and patted your back in approval.  “That’s my girl.”  You smiled as you shut your eyes and enjoyed the contact for a little longer.  The moment wouldn’t last forever.  Soon, you’d be summoned for a report to the Jedi Council.  Perhaps you and Rex could more properly catch up in the mess hall later on, but then you’d be in a community space where you’d have to keep a little distance.

   You leaned out of the embrace to press your lips to his longingly.  No amount of time felt like enough.  It didn’t matter whether it was a few minutes or hours: It always came to an end.  Rex returned the kiss firmly, reassuring you.  You felt tired and weak and in need of comfort, and he was there.  He was there to be what you were to him.  When he was feeling similarly to the way you did in that moment, you were there.  The kiss you shared was all of these things at once, and the weight of the emotions that swam around in your head made your knees buckle.  Your hands grasped his broad shoulders tightly, and his arms went around you as his lips found yours again before trailing to your ear.  The torrent  of emotion in your chest settled as a trickling stream when he pressed one last kiss to your cheek and pulled away, the Zygerrian chest plate rising and falling with each breath he took.  His warm eyes stared into yours for a moment before he took a step back.  You quickly realized why.

   “Oh, hey Rex.  Hey, _________,” Anakin said as he approached.  You pulled the cloak tighter of your form and tried your best to offer a casual smile.

   “Anakin, I take it we are to report to the Council?”

   “Yes, Obi-Wan is going to meet us in the briefing room.  Ahsoka is also on her way.  You ready?”

   “I need to change back into my own robes, but I’ll be there shortly.”  You nodded, sparing one last look at Rex.  “I wish you a swift recovery, Captain.”

   “Same to you, General, and uhh,” he looked to Anakin,  “General.”

   You smiled softly and headed down the hall.  However, you didn’t miss the nudge that Anakin gave Rex or the, “what was that about?” he uttered.

   Rex’s response was golden.  “Whatever do you mean, General?”

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

Five Times Din Accidentally Turned You On

Pairing - Din Djarin x Reader

Summary - It’s embarrassing how a man whose face you have never seen is able to turn you on so quickly without even realizing it. 

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - brief description of an injury, but that’s it! 

When you had agreed to start working with the Mandalorian and met the little green menace, you knew that your life was going to be turned upside down into chaos. 

You had expected most of that chaos to come from the bugger, not from your apparent lack of control over your hormones. 

It was ridiculous. There was no way that you should be this attracted to a man whose face you had never seen. If your mother could see you right now, she would think that you were crazy. Of course, she thought you were crazy already for traveling with a Mandalorian around the Galaxy, but this would be a whole new level for her. 

Yet, here you stood, a little goblin attached at your hip, watching the tension rising with mounting anxiety. You clutched the kid closer to your side as Mando confronted the man, who you now knew wasn’t a Mandalorian, but a Marshal instead, asking him where he got his armor. 

“Bought it off some Jawas.” He answered, taking a sip of his spotchka. 

“Hand it over.” 

Maker he was so damn menacing when he was like this. Even without being able to see his face, you felt a shiver going down your spine from his tone. He was so intimidating; you didn’t see how anyone stood a chance. 

You also didn’t see how you continued to find it so kriffing attractive. 

“Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from, but ‘round here, I’m the one tells folks what to do.” Vanth replied. 

“Take it off.” Mando said, stepping forward. “Or I will.” 

As soon as he said those words, all you could think about was him saying them in . . . another context. There was no way you could control your response. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself after you let out the oddest little half squeak / half choked sound. You bit your lip as you watched everyone in the room, the bartender, Cobb Vanth, and even Mando’s helmet tilt in your direction. You even felt the little womp rat’s head turn towards you curiously. Which gave you the idea. “I - the kid - I’m gonna - while you two work this out.” You said, gesturing to him before hurrying outside. 

As soon as you stepped out of the bar, you took a deep breath, and then let out a loud groan of embarrassment. Looking down at the kid, he gave you a look that clearly said he was disgruntled at being blamed for a noise you made. 

“I’m sorry, buddy, sometimes your dad . . .” You were not about to tell this little guy how hot you thought his dad was. “You’ve got to take one for the team this time okay? I’ll get you cookies to make up for it later.” You added when he didn’t seem like he was pleased with that. 

At least bribery worked with him. 

____________________

For as long as you could remember, you loved flying. You didn’t know where it had come from, since your mom was scared of heights and you didn’t know anything about your father other than he had been a farmer, but from the moment that you looked up into the sky and saw a ship soaring overhead, you had loved it. Getting the chance to live on a ship and see the galaxy that way was another reason you had said yes to Mando when he asked. 

Flying on a ship with a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter was nothing like you expected though. 

Your eyes drifted back and forth from the sky to Mando, too captivated by the sight in front of you to be scared. Tie fighters were shooting at you from what seemed like every direction, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be worried. Mando would take care of you. He always did. 

You glanced over at the child who was buckled up in a seat next to you, his little green hands in the air as he cooed and giggled in excitement. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. 

“Hang on,” Mando said to the two of you, and your arm reached out to the kid, close enough to where you could grab him if he went flying. You held your breath as the Crest began to fall for a moment until Mando engaged it once more, spinning it in circles to avoid the tie fighter’s blasts. The Child’s laughter became louder in your ears as you grabbed a hold of his clothes, but your eyes were glued to the sight in front of you, adrenaline pounding in your veins as you came closer and closer - 

Then he blasted it out of the sky, as you knew he would. 

You let out a cheer, echoed by the gremlin next to you, and leaned forward, finding a bit of Mando’s arm that wasn’t covered in armor and giving it a squeeze. “That was amazing! I’ll never understand how you can do that so easily.” You told him, your voice as breathless as if you had been the one flying. 

“Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” He said, and by the way his muscles tensed under your hand, you got the feeling he hadn’t meant to say that. 

It was no secret that Mando was protective of you. He had been from the start, but hearing him say it like that? Almost . . . possessive? Maker, the way it made you feel. You opened your mouth. You weren’t sure what you were going to say, but before you could, he interrupted you. “And the kid of course. Not too bad, huh kid?” He asked, looking at him over his shoulder. 

The little womp rat gagged, expelling the remains of his blue cookies. 

____________________

All of this was way out of your league, that was obvious enough. The Jedi, the Force, all of those things had been over your head from the start. They had been legends for so long, it was hard to believe that the little green gremlin you had been looking after, Grogu, you corrected yourself, was one of them. 

You watched as the Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, beckoned Din over to her, deciding to use Din to get Grogu to show his powers. The bond the two of them shared had grown even more so over the past couple of months, and you had to admit, if anyone could get Grogu to use his powers, it would be Din. 

Sure enough, after some coddling, Grogu made his favorite little silver ball fly from Din’s fingers to his hand. The smile on your face widened as Din spoke. “Good job! Good job, kid!” He exclaimed, stepping towards him. “You see that?” He asked you and Ahsoka without waiting for an answer. He stopped in front of him, bending down to his level, “that’s right. I knew you could do it.” He took the silver ball from him, “Very good.” 

Warmth filled your chest at the proud tone in his voice. The way that he interacted with Grogu was one of the cutest things that you had ever seen. While he wasn’t the kid’s biological father, you knew that he was close enough. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how great he would be with his own kids, if he decided to have them one day. 

. . . maybe with you. 

The intrusive thought had the heat rushing to your face, and you cleared your throat as if it would help get the images out of your mind. 

“Are you all right?” Ahsoka asked from next to you. 

You nodded, but from the smirk on her lips, you got the feeling that her and her Jedi mind tricks knew exactly why you had gone into a coughing fit. 

____________________

“You’re getting better.” 

The words should have been a comfort to you. Din had been teaching you fighting techniques for months, but now that the kid - Grogu, had been taken, you were practicing with renewed vigor as you all geared up for a mission to find Moff Gideon’s coordinates. You knew that you were getting better, and Din didn’t say anything he didn’t mean, but you knew it wasn’t enough. “I can’t get the kick.” You mumbled, brushing some of your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

He nodded, and your heart rate kicked up even more as he moved around behind you. He was so close you could hear every slide of that beskar as it moved with him. “You need to widen your stance.” He gave a gentle kick to your left foot, and you obediently spread your leg further apart. “Adjust your hips like this . . .” The cool leather of his gloves landed on your hips, moving them into position. “Now find your center of gravity.” He added, his voice even lower than normal. 

It turned your brain to mush. How the hell were you supposed to concentrate like this? The man you desired more than anything was so close to you that you could feel every exhale of that beskar chest piece against your back, hear every breath as it exited his helmet. 

“You can do it.” Din said, his hands giving your hips a little squeeze. 

You remembered him saying those words. To a little green goblin that had stolen your heart. A child you were determined to get back. The thought managed to snap you back into focus, and with a deep breath you executed the move to perfection. 

Well, sorta. 

Din caught you as you stumbled back from the momentum, his fast reflexes allowing him to wrap his arm around your waist and catch your back against his hard chest with a soft chuckle. The sound, so rarely heard, made your stomach swirl with butterflies. “Good girl. Just have to work on your balance.” 

Good girl? Good girl? Dank farrik was he trying to kill you? You stumbled out of his arms, heat rushing to your face. “I’ve got to - I can’t - I’ve got to go.” You couldn’t be around him for a second longer or you were pretty sure you’d lose your mind and do something stupid like beg him to call you that again. Preferably with no clothes on. 

Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell by the tilt of his helmet in your direction that he was confused. 

You didn’t stick around long enough to give him the chance to ask any questions. 

____________________

Everything had happened so quickly it turned into a blur in your mind. Storming the ship, getting shot by a blaster and having to be dragged by Fennic and Bo-Katan onto the bridge while you tried not to scream at the pain in your thigh, Din arriving with Grogu and the dark saber in his hands, and Moff Gideon in his custody. Then there was the DarkTroopers arriving and subsequently being destroyed by a Jedi. 

And as soon as you had gotten Grogu back . . . he was gone again. 

You didn’t look when Din took his helmet off. Your eyes stayed glued to Grogu as soon as you had seen his hands move to the helmet. It seemed . . . disrespectful to look. This moment was for the two of them, no one else. When Grogu was gone, the helmet went back on, and without anything to distract you from the pain anymore, you let out a whimper. 

 Din rushed to your side at once, and you thought he might have been grateful for something to focus on other than your little family of three now becoming one of two. He lifted you into his arms without a second thought, and after some directions from Bo-Katan, carried you to a small medbay where he got to work on your wound. 

Watching him was a nice distraction as he ripped open the leg of your pants until he could see all of the wound. The display was already stirring something inside of you, and it escalated as he took his gloves off and touched you for the first time with his bare hands. 

They were large, but of course you already knew that. The gentleness they touched you with though . . . it was a sharp contrast to the way he had ripped your pants. He touched you as if he wasn’t worthy to be touching you. Hesitant and soft, every movement of his fingers slow and careful as if you were going to be scared away. When he pressed against the edge of your wound, the whimper that left your lips wasn’t only because of the pain. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough through his helmet as he grabbed ahold of some bacta spray from a table nearby. While the bacta helped the pain, it didn’t help your racing heart. 

It was embarrassing. More so than it had ever been, that you couldn’t get your feelings under control. Surely he had to notice. The amount of times you had done something stupid because you had taken what he said the wrong way or touched you was numerous. How could he not know? Had he been humoring you because you were good with the kid? 

And now that Grogu was gone, did he even want you around anymore? 

The sudden thought made you tense because while it had come out of nowhere, it could be true. Yes, you could do some simple repairs and cook, but your main job had been watching after Grogu. He didn’t need that now. He had survived fine by himself before you got there, what’s to say he wouldn’t want to go back to that? He’d never given you any indication that he didn’t. Was this the last time the two of you would be together? 

Attentive as always, he noticed the shift in your mood at once. He spoke your name, soft and almost melodic. “What are you thinking about?” 

Of course the one time you most needed to lie to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after what had happened. “Do you want me to go?” You whispered, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t stand to see what his expression might be.

There was a moment’s pause that made your heartbeat pick up, and for the first time around Din, not in a good way. “What?” He asked, his voice sounding a little strangled. 

As was your normal response when you got nervous, you started babbling. “I know I mostly looked after the kid. I’m not a fighter . . . I’m not a Mandalorian . . . I’m a nuisance and another mouth to feed. If you want me to go, I can go.” Would it break your heart? Absolutely, but you never wanted to be somewhere you weren’t wanted. 

“Stop,” was all he said, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. 

But you continued, unable to keep the words from leaving your mouth. “Bo-Katan or Fett can drop me off at the nearest planet, and you won’t -”

There was a loud clunk as a helmet of beskar hit the floor. You jumped, the sound startling you and you watched as it rolled a bit, stopping a couple of feet away. “Look at me.” 

It was the second time you had heard his voice without the helmet, but it struck you harder this time. Maker it was beautiful. Gruff and low, yet somehow he was so . . . soft spoken as well. As if he wasn’t sure how to talk without his helmet, and you guessed he probably wasn’t. You wanted to do what he asked. You wanted to know what he looked like, but it still felt so private . . . 

He said your name again, and you almost started crying at how tenderly he spoke it. His hand found your chin, tilting it up to reveal his facial hair covered jaw, his pale, pink lips, and pointed nose, all the way to the most beautiful, most expressive brown eyes you had ever seen. 

Din Djarin was in fact, every bit as handsome as you imagined him to be, which made your next words so much harder for you to say. “I have feelings for you.” You gasped out. “Strong - really strong ones, and they’re not going to go away. So if you can’t deal with that I need to -”

His hands cupped your cheeks and all of the sudden, Din was leaning closer. So close that your breath mingled with his and everything around the two of you seemed to vanish. There was nothing else that mattered except this moment. You expected him to say something, anything that would cut this tension that hung in the air, but he didn’t. 

Instead he closed the small distance between the two of you and kissed you. 

It was soft. Oh, so much softer than you ever expected him to be capable of doing. Then you realized how stupid that was of you to think, because Din had never been anything but soft with the people that he cared about. 

For a moment you didn’t move, still surprised that he was kissing you, but then you couldn’t hold back. Your lips moved against his, as lightly as his were moving against yours. Your fingers were itching to touch him, to tangle in those messy brown waves, but you were afraid to scare him off. So they hung by your side at a safe distance while Din continued to kiss you and make sure that you never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. 

After what seemed like hours, and you wouldn’t complain if it had been, he pulled back, but not far enough to put any real distance between the two of you, instead pressing his forehead against your own. “Just because I gave up the kid, doesn’t mean I want to give you up too.” You let out a soft sigh as his lips left gentle kisses across your jaw and cheek. “Stay with me. Stay cyar’ika.” He whispered against your skin. 

As if anything could pull you away now.

[shatouto]

another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him��� “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

[kaminobiwan]

cannonball

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Throwing all caution out the window, Obi-Wan dives headfirst into a long awaited confession. At least, he tries to. The universe seems to leave an obstacle for him at every turn, but Obi-Wan is nothing if not persistent.

a/n: Oh my goodness, this has got to be my proudest piece. It was one of the victims of the incident™ and I had to rewrite the whole thing from scratch, but I actually think the final version came out better than the original! The title is inspired from the summary of my previous fic Indulgence, but this one is actually the cornerstone of all of my jedi!reader x Obi-Wan fics: every one of those has stemmed from this storyline idea that has been living in my head for so long. Suffice it to say this is THE fic that I have wanted to write from the beginning — my pièce de résistance, if you will.

I hope you enjoy :-) p.s. here's my taglist form

In all the years he’s known you, Obi-Wan swears he only ever started to lie to you during the Clone Wars.

In his defense, he’d been lying to himself, too. Forcibly crushing down his much-deeper-than-platonic favor for you in the hopes that it’d disappear, forgotten in his darkest recesses, was exhausting in more ways than one. One’s mind can only be dishonest with the heart for so long.

But after more than a year and a half into the fighting, he’d felt too many times the choking fear that he’d never see you again — be it because of his death or yours.

So he’d given up in repressing his emotions, and let himself feel. In the precious minutes of reprieve amidst the horrors of combat, sometimes the only thing that could console his jaded and war-torn soul was the memory of you.

He wonders how he managed to continue for as long as he did before allowing himself to consciously love — it was well into the conflict when he came to terms with it. If he closes his eyes, he can easily remember the exact moment.

Geonosis. His return to the forsaken planet.

The chaos of it all had been staggering. He’d barely been able to hear Cody’s warning before he was shot out of the sky, and the crash that claimed the lives of nearly everyone in the transport had been just the beginning of the hellscape he’d endured.

There was an instant where he’d been sure he was going to die on the field, seconds before the remainder of his battalion was about to be overrun.

He remembers the gunfire surrounding him, piercing the falling bodies of his men as he laid helpless and injured. Cody’s shouting amidst the mayhem. The stabbing pain of his ribs that had blackened the edges of his vision. The dirt that had caked his face and armor. The sheer amount of it had been maddening.

And yet, as the bugs had closed in around him and he’d forced himself to his feet to meet his imminent end, the only thing that had run through his mind was...you.

Your name, your face. The dissatisfaction at the fact that the last time he’d seen it, it’d been distorted, static and blue from the holo you’d shared with Master Unduli. The way you’d hidden a smile as she interrupted his competitive jeering with Anakin ahead of the battle.

At least he’d made you laugh, he’d thought, and with that, he’d ignited his lightsaber.

And then the reinforcements had come. And he’d been left to sink back down on shaking knees with the image of you burning in his brain until the concerned presence of Ahsoka materialized at his side.

He hadn’t had any time to process the stunning realization that he was in love with you. He’d scarcely had a second to gather himself before he was already spouting a revised attack plan to take the droid factory, reverting to autopilot the way he always did when he assumed his identity as a war general.

But the universe had seemed intent on not letting him escape it, regardless. Just days later, he’d saved your life — you’d arrived at Point Rain with Luminara only to be taken by the Geonosian queen to be turned into a mindless, shivering zombie.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that, you know.” You’d chirped, while tapping his nose teasingly.

“What? The stunt with the worms? You know I wouldn’t have actually let it go up your nose.”

“No, for disobeying an order to fall back and leave us behind.”

His heart had clenched at your words. Never in a million years would he abandon you if he thought there was the smallest chance of saving you. He knew that, finally.

But the fear of losing the only life he’d ever known outweighed the fear of losing you, and he’d settled with yearning for you from afar. It would be enough, he’d convinced himself. He refused to burden you with the knowledge that he’d been pining helplessly for you for Force knows how long, and ruin the careers in the Order you’d both worked so hard to construct.

That was, until now.

Until he’d seen Satine Kryze again, after decades apart, and she’d declared her surviving affection for him from all those years ago, Anakin witnessing the whole thing. After he’d seen the weight of her unspoken truth upon her shoulders. And although he regretted that he couldn’t grant her the relief from her wanting, he’d resolved that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days the same way — slowly being crushed by his own supression. Even if his feelings were unrequited.

So he’d decided that he’d tell you, Jedi Code be damned. He wouldn’t hold it in any longer.

As the Coronet docked on the landing pad where the Chancellor was waiting, he’d been jittery with anticipation. That, and disoriented from the events that had transpired on the way there. He’d blubbered uncharacteristically when Satine had caressed his face in farewell, Anakin watching delightedly at his back. Then, as he’d turned to find a speeder to make his way to you in the Temple, the universe had yet again toyed with him — you were there, appearing on the platform out of nowhere like a summoned spirit, but not making your way towards him.

No, you were walking straight towards Satine.

You didn’t seem to notice him or Anakin behind you, welcoming the Duchess with practiced cordiality and leading her to the airbus where the other Senators were boarding, glaringly obvious that you’d been assigned on escort duty. Obi-Wan held back a groan. Of all the Jedi.

Anakin had practically collapsed in hilarity, a hand heavy on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Master,” he crowed. “I finally get that one.”

———

You’re perched high up on a viewing balcony of the Senate Chamber when he finds you, a little before Satine is set to address the Republic.

“You’re certainly off your game today,” you exhale an amused laugh as he skids to a stop, attempting to compose his appearance as he approaches you. “Anakin told me all about what happened on the Coronet en route to Coruscant.”

His blasted Padawan. Obi-Wan could strangle him.

“I didn’t teach him to gossip,” he grumbles, coming to stand beside you. He'd run the whole way here to catch you, but his rapid heartbeat isn’t from physical exertion. You’re as tranquil as ever, though, and your presence relaxes him despite.

You give a snort. “Maybe not intentionally. He definitely learned how to operate outside the lines of the Code by watching you.” He knows you’re poking fun at him, but his breath catches at the mention of the doctrine that dictates you both.

But he’s set on telling you. Today.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something similar.”

You turn to the Chancellor’s podium as his voice reverberates through the hall, but Obi-Wan’s hearing is fixed on you. “Of course, Obi, but it’ll have to wait until later. I think your friend is about to speak.”

He opens his mouth to reply, to bring your attention back to him, but you’re focused on the proceedings. He doesn’t like the jovial way you say friend, as if you’re almost happy about it, but he forces his gaze to follow yours as Satine begins her address.

Which, of course, goes terribly wrong. Because nothing seems to want to work out today.

Even your usually optimistic features are set with a grim expression as a testimonial from Satine’s own Deputy Minister slights her leadership, and the Senate turns against her. As her repulsorpod retreats from the center of the chamber, you cast concerned eyes towards him.

“Go,” you urge him, and he’s frozen between staying or leaving. “She needs you. I’ll buy you some time with the security detail.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to depart from your side, words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he knows you’re right. He nods at you gratefully before chasing after Satine.

———

He tries again in the evening, while you’re between shifts of guarding the Duchess’ guest quarters.

“She seems...interesting,” you nod to the Mandalorian guard that passes by to take your post, speaking low enough that your conversation is relatively private. “She certainly had much to say about you.”

Obi-Wan wanted to scream. It seems everyone had been able to get you alone except for him. “I told you about that year on Mandalore after I came back,” he protests, and you shoot him a pitiful wink.

“Not the way she described it.”

Before he can demand just what Satine had let on, the sound of rapid footfalls draws both of your attention to the guard you’d greeted earlier. “Master Jedi! The Duchess is gone. We don’t know for how long.”

You curse lightly and rush down the hall to follow the Mandalorian, and Obi-Wan is about to do the same when his comm buzzes on his wrist.

He sighs in frustration. He knows exactly who it is.

———

After he’d relayed the untampered evidence to Padmé in time for the Senate convocation and Satine had been released from custody, Obi-Wan makes his way to your quarters in a determined stride. The past couple days were nothing short of a wild Bantha ride from start to finish, and he was tired of tiptoeing around you.

As he raises a shaking hand to knock outside your room, he stalls in a moment of fleeting hesitation. The impending metamorphose of your relationship nags at his brain, and he pauses. What he’s about to do will indelibly transform the dynamic between you, for better or for worse. It dawns on him that there won’t be any going back from this.

He hears your voice from a distant memory of late nights in the Temple gardens, basking in the light of the stars. Of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that.

So be it.

He stands as tall as he can manage, and knocks resolutely.

You open the door looking ready for bed, clad in a billowing camisole, face dewy from the refresher and hair still damp. He smiles at you as you open it wider. “Hello, Obi.”

He shuffles inside, meekly nodding in apology of his interruption. “I thought I’d come see you.”

Like routine, you’re already heating up a pot of water for him as you search for his favorite tea in your cupboard. Ever so thoughtful. His heart flutters beneath his robes. “I’m glad to see you found the Duchess,” you chime lightheartedly, “I had a hunch when you disappeared earlier.”

His hand finds the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t make you look too bad, being on protection and all.”

You shake your head dismissively. “I was just glad to hear she was safe. You helped save her people from Republic occupation.”

Altruistic honesty radiates off of you, and his chest drops, in a good way. You care, and it’s written all over your actions.

You’re the best person he knows. Without question.

For a split second, Obi-Wan wonders if he even deserves you. But he pushes the thought in the back of his mind for later, hell-bent on not letting anything get in the way of what he wants to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You face him fully, abandoning the tea as you take in the seriousness of his posture. He sucks in a stunted breath.

“It’s about —”

“I know.”

He startles, momentum lost as you interrupt him suddenly. Your gaze is penetrating. “What?” He asks dumbly.

“It’s about Satine, isn’t it?” Your bare arm comes up across your body to hold the other, and Obi-Wan finds himself staring at the way your too-long pants brush the floor as you sway to one side. Your sleeping shirt brushes the middle of your thighs, and he realizes how utterly small you seem in the moment. “You feel the same way about her that you used to.”

His eyes snap up to yours at your words, mind reeling. It takes him an eternity to force out a single word.

“...No.”

You tilt your head confusedly, and Obi-Wan wants to pinch himself to test if this is some sort of stress-induced hallucination. “No? You do know she’s positively infatuated with you, don’t you?”

“No, I —” he shuts his eyes desperately. “I mean, yes, I know, but I don’t —” he breaks off abruptly, opening his eyes at you with newfound willpower. Blast it.

Obi-Wan crosses the room in three steps, reaching his hands out to cradle you delicately as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

He hears your breath stutter, shock just about vibrating off of you, but in the next second your eyelashes graze his cheeks as you close your eyes and lean into him. His heart pounds in crazed gratification, and Obi-Wan feels downright dizzy from the sensation. He’s going to faint, he’s going to die right here in your arms —

Your hands find the top of his chestplate, fingers curling against it, but after a beat of his body singing with joy, he feels you apply the smallest pressure on his armor. You detach your lips from his slowly, and he blinks dazedly at you when you pull away. Disbelief paints your frame.

“Obi, what —”

“I love you,” he says quickly, hands still on either side of your face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you. For so long.” One of your hands reaches up to clasp his own against your cheek. “I know that this goes against everything we’ve ever been taught, and you must be confused. I’m sorry.” He breaks off for a second, eyebrows creasing, because he’s not sorry. He could never be sorry for what he’s just done, not with the feeling of your lips still rippling in tingles through his brain. “But I had to tell you. I just...couldn’t go on without you knowing.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you flounder in his confession, and he studies you with more intensity than he’s felt in ages. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything about you, offhandedly concentrating to memorize every tiny detail. He’ll relive that kiss a thousand times over for the rest of his life if it’s the last one he’ll get.

“I — I don’t know what to say,” you manage to let out, and he presses his forehead to yours before releasing you. Say you love me, his heart cries. But Obi-Wan pushes the sentiment away.

“It’s alright,” he promises gently. You stare at him as he squeezes the hand that’s still holding his. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Obi-Wan, I —”

Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by a loud knock from outside, and the way you jerk back from him pricks at his emotions. You quickly pad to the door, opening it a crack as he attempts to conceal himself from your unexpected visitor.

“Sorry to bother you so late, Master,” Anakin’s voice fills the air, and Obi-Wan shrinks further into the shadows. “I’m just checking in before I leave for Vanquor. I wanted to make sure you’re still available to train Ahsoka while I’m gone?”

It takes you a little to formulate a response, your eyes still wide. “Yes — of course, Anakin, always.” You attempt to shut the door, but Anakin speaks up before you can.

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you for some advice as well, if you don’t mind.”

You can’t look at Obi-Wan without giving him away, so he sends a subtle wave of reassurance your way, hoping you pick up on it.

The tension releases from your shoulders, and you nod at his old student. “I’d be happy to. Give me a bit to get ready,” you gesture behind you, “and I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Anakin must nod in return, because you close the door without another word. You reach up to grab your outer robes from where they’re hung on the wall, and turn to him with a tormented expression.

Go, it’s his turn to coax you as he mouths the word silently. It’s alright.

Your eyes are shining with emotion that he can’t quite read in the dim light, but eventually you slip on your cloak and shoes and open the door once more. With one last lingering glimpse at him in the corner, you disappear into the hall where Anakin is waiting.

As he feels your presence dwindling away, he sends a final thought into the vacant room, more to himself and the aching emptiness of the Force than to you.

I love you.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Nineteen)

Summary: (Y/N), Din and the others recruit two familiar Mandalorians to help them rescue Grogu, and the pair shares a quiet moment before the siege on Moff Gideon’s cruiser.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen The Rescue (Previous Chapter)

“Maker, these Lambda shuttles are hunks of junk,” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, entering the shuttle’s cockpit and moving to sit in the main pilot’s seat. After checking that Boba hadn’t accidentally damaged any of its functions when he’d used the ion cannon or when he’d latched onto its roof, she began charting their course; they’d all agreed that if they were going to storm Moff Gideon’s cruiser, then they’d need all the help that they could get and Din was dead-set on a familiar group of Mandalorians. “‘Might of the Galaxy,’ my ass…”

Just as she finished prepping for the jump to hyperspace, Cara entered the cockpit and plopped down in the co-pilot’s seat. “I took care of the bodies, stowed their weapons in the back. How’d everything lookin’ in here?”

“There’s some very minor damages caused by that ion cannon, but nothing too serious. We’re just waiting on word from-”

“Come in, (Y/N).”

She pressed a button beside the shuttle’s communication radio and replied, “(Y/N) here. Is everything good on your end?”

“Yep, we’re ready to leave when you are.” Once she assured Din that they were, the shuttle shook as Boba unlatched the Slave I. “I’ll see you when we land. Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad. Be safe.”

(Y/N) smiled at his parting words, the Mando’a making her heart warm in her chest. “You too.” Switching off the communication radio, her hands flipped several switches before settling on one of the main levers. “Jumping to hyperspace in three…two…one.” She pushed the lever up, sending the Imperial shuttle flying into space; glancing away from the shuttle’s viewport, she took in Cara’s tense demeanor and furrowed her brow in concern. “Are you okay, Cara?”

The marshal glanced up with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. One of those Imps said some things that hit a little close to home, that’s all.” Nodding, (Y/N) moved to turn her attention back to the shuttle’s controls but stopped when Cara softly spoke her name and asked, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what made you decide to join the Rebellion?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before answering. “After my mother died and I left Naboo, I thought that I could turn a blind eye to the Empire and live my life the way I wanted. I’d spent my entire childhood under their control, after all; no one would fault me for wanting to enjoy my freedom. But the older I got, the harder it became to ignore all the suffering across the galaxy and when I caught wind that the Alliance Starfleet was looking to recruit smugglers, all I could think about were my mother’s last words to me…” Her fingers began playing with the bottom hem of her Shaak-skin jacket. “‘Choose courage over fear, and you can change the stars.’ So, that’s what I did.” She sniffed and let out an awkward chuckle before turning back to the controls. “I’m not sure if that’s the answer you were looking for, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“I just needed to be reminded of all the good people who fought on our side…so yeah, it was a pretty good answer.”

The pair spent the rest of the journey in comfortable silence, soon coming out of hyperspace and entering the planet’s upper atmosphere. (Y/N) landed the shuttle beside the Slave I and followed Cara out onto the planet’s surface, where Din and Boba were already waiting. Although they’d only been apart for a short while, (Y/N) felt herself begin to relax as her eyes met the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“You three go ahead, Fennec and I can keep an eye on Pershing,” Cara gave them a brief nod before turning and boarding the Slave I, where Fennec was securing the clone engineer’s wrists in binders.

“Let’s hope that this idea of yours’ll work.”

Din’s hand came to rest on the small of her back as the three of them began walking towards the small outpost. “It’ll work, alor’ad.” They made their way through the quiet outpost and entered the nearly-deserted cantina, where two familiar Mandalorians were enjoying their meals in the back of the room; exchanging a glance with Din, (Y/N) followed him over to their table and watched as the one Din claimed was named Koska nudged Bo-Katan, who immediately looked up at them. “We need your help.”

Bo-Katan’s brow rose as she examined the three of them. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters. Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

Frustration was evident in Din’s voice as he shot back, “They took the child.”

“Who?”

“Moff Gideon.” (Y/N) frowned, taking in the sudden shift of Bo-Katan’s demeanor. “What?”

The Mandalorian looked back down at the table before replying, “You’ll never find him.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from saying anything derogatory and Din’s gloved hands tightened into fists, but it was Boba Fett who decided to speak up. “We don’t need these two, let’s get out of here.”

Din and Boba began turning away but (Y/N) froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched Bo-Katan look up at the bounty hunter with barely-concealed distaste. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.”

Koska snorted in amusement. “I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk.”

Chuckling, Boba stepped closer to the Mandalorian. “Well, if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” Koska quickly stood, her chin jutted out in defiance, and (Y/N) had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the scene the two were making. “Easy there, little one.”

“You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

“All right, easy,” Bo-Katan commanded. “Save it for the Imps.”

After a tense moment, Koska sat back down at the table and (Y/N) sighed in relief as she focused her attention back on Bo-Katan. “We have his coordinates.”

The Mandalorian blinked in surprise. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser; it could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

Beside Din, Boba scoffed at his words. “You gotta be kidding me, Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms over her chest as both Mandalorians glared at the bounty hunter; it would’ve been less of a hassle to visit Tatooine and ask kriffing Cobb Vanth for help, she thought to herself, wearily watching Bo-Katan level her hardened gaze at Boba. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

“This armor belonged to my father.”

“Don’t you mean your donor?”

Din and (Y/N), who’d both started forward to break up the confrontation, both froze in their tracks; the bounty hunters shoulders were tense as he took another step towards Bo-Katan. “Careful, princess.”

“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan smirked and both Mandalorians stood, their meals long forgotten. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

“Mine might be the last one you hear.”

Boba’s threat spurred Koska into finally attacking and the two of them began to viciously fight. Wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, Din tugged her to his side and held her securely against him as they watched the fight, sighing deeply in frustration. “Mandalorians.”

“I told you that we should’ve gotten Cobb Vanth’s help instead.” At her words, Din grumbled something under his breath and all she could make out was something that sounded suspiciously like ‘flirt,’ making the corner of her mouth curl into a small teasing grin. “I never would’ve pegged you as the jealous type, you’re such a calm and level-headed man…”

She could feel Din’s arm tighten around her waist and she just knew that he was rolling his eyes at her beneath his helmet. “Mir'sheb.”

“I love you too.” They both turned their attention back to the fight and (Y/N) nearly facepalmed when she saw the pair ignite their flamethrowers. “Dank farrik, this is getting ridiculous.”

It seemed that the second Mandalorian felt the same. “Enough, both of you! If we had shown half that spine to the Empire, we would have never lost our planet.” Boba and Koska both extinguished their flamethrowers and as the bounty hunter got to his feet, Bo-Katan turned to face her and Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” The Mandalorian stepped closer to Din, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed as she continued, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.”

Din let go of her waist and was beginning to lead her towards the cantina’s door when Bo-Katan spoke up again. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me, it is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.”

“Almost anything,” Koska interjected.

Bo-Katan nodded. “It cannot cut through pure beskar.” At her words, (Y/N)’s thoughts instantly went to Ahsoka Tano and her two pure-white lightsabers; why would someone who’s not a Jedi want a weapon like that, she silently wondered, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”

“Help us rescue the child and you can have whatever you want,” He nearly snapped, and (Y/N) could tell that Bo-Katan was beginning to frustrate him. “He is our only priority.”

“If we’re all done fighting with each other, we should head back to the ship.” (Y/N) interjected, turning and leading the way back to the Slave I; walking beside Din, she quietly asked, “Was it just me or was that whole Darksaber thing a little strange?” He nodded but remained silent, and soon they were all boarding the ship.

Bo-Katan and Koska joined Cara in pulling up a hologram of Moff Gideon’s cruiser and Fennec made her way over to where (Y/N) and Din were leaning against the wall of the ship. “These two seem like they’re fun to hang around.”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement. “Yeah, they’re a barrel of laughs. I’ve gotta admit, it’s a little aggravating that they care more about Moff Gideon’s cruiser and his Darksaber than Grogu.”

“I know, but we need them to get onboard that cruiser.” Din glanced over at Dr. Pershing. “Has he said anything yet?”

Fennec shook her head. “Nothing. Want me to make him talk?”

“No, it’s okay; I’ve got a feeling he’ll be helpful on his own.”

Bo-Katan called them over and they moved closer as she pointed to the hologram. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred but now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.”

“Your assessment is misleading.”

(Y/N) turned around to look at Dr. Pershing; the clone engineer was staring at the floor, his mouth set in a firm line. He certainly doesn’t act like the typical Imp, she thought to herself while Cara scoffed. “Oh great, an objective opinion.”

Dr. Pershing’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs. “This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you.” He turned to (Y/N) and after taking a moment to examine his pleading face, she nodded for him to continue. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

Across from (Y/N), Cara began cleaning one of her knives with a spare rag. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

“These are a third-generation design; they are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved…they’re droids.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “It’s true, I saw them when they took…when they took Grogu.” She turned back to the clone engineer. “Where are they bivouacked?”

Dr. Pershing got up from his seat and moved to stand beside the hologram. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay.” He pointed to a section of the cruiser. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“And how long to power up?” Fennec asked, her eyes narrowing as she examined the hologram before them.

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

“Where is the child being held?” Din’s words were clipped and business-like, but (Y/N) could detect the pain in his voice as he spoke.

The clone engineer brought up a different section of the hologram that clearly looked like a cell. “This is the brig. The child’s being held here under armed guard.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan examined the hologram while she continued, “We split into two parties.”

(Y/N) felt the smooth leather of Din’s glove brush her hand. “(Y/N) and I go alone.”

Bo-Katan sighed but nodded. “Fine. Phase One, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver.”

“And the two of us?” (Y/N) asked.

“We’ll be misdirection; once we draw a crowd, you two slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

Cara stopped cleaning her knife and glanced up at them all. “Those dark troopers are gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

Leaning closer to the hologram, (Y/N) observed, “Their bay is on the way to the brig.” She looked over at Dr. Pershing. “Can we make it there before they deploy?”

He nodded. “It’s possible.”

“Here,” Fennec grabbed a code cylinder from the clone engineer’s pocket and handed it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

Din clutched the code cylinder in his hand, the visor of his helmet looking down at (Y/N) while he replied, “We’ll meet you all at the bridge. Now, let’s start planning out Phase One…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After they finalized their plan, they all boarded the Lambda shuttle and entered hyperspace, closely followed by Boba in the Slave I. (Y/N) was seated in the main pilot’s chair at the others’ insistence; for their plan to work, they needed to look as if they were under attack by Boba’s ship, and there was no one better qualified to perform that type of flying than her. The others were keeping busy by cleaning their blasters and donning their armor, but Din was motionless in the co-pilot seat beside her; Moff Gideon doesn’t have a clue what’s in store for him when Din gets a hold of him, she thought to herself, her eyes still trained on the swirling blue outside of the viewport.

As if in-tuned with her thoughts, Din suddenly stood and asked her to join him in the back compartment. She followed him deeper into the shuttle and once they entered the compartment, she shut the door behind them; just as she was turning around to face him, she heard the unmistakable sound of his beskar helmet being removed and her heart leapt into her throat. She reached a hand out towards the control panel to dim the lights, but a larger hand appeared and halted hers; Din’s tanned fingers gently held her wrist, bringing it up to where he stood behind her and pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Please, I…I need you to see me, alor’ad.”

Taking a steadying breath, (Y/N) slowly turned around and looked up at Din’s face. Back in the refinery on Morak, she didn’t have much time to closely examine her partner’s features but what she had studied were his eyes; they were the warmest shade of brown and, much to her surprise, incredibly expressive. Meeting his concerned gaze had quickly calmed her down and made her feel safe in that mess hall, and the same was true in the shuttle’s back compartment.

Her gaze left his as she took the opportunity to examine the rest of him; his hair was also brown, the soft waves matted a little from the helmet, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, the hair above his lip a little thicker than the rest of it. His brow and nose were prominent, but his jawline had more of a curve to it, and the last thing she looked at were his lips; they were chapped and his bottom lip was more plump than the top, something that she’d noticed whenever they’d kissed in the dark on the Razor Crest. As she watched, his lips parted and when her eyes flicked back up to his, he was closely watching her with nervousness written across his features. Smiling, (Y/N) rested a hand against the soft skin and stubble of his cheek as she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing each knuckle before finally speaking. “Mesh’la.”

Din released a shuddering breath as his eyes darted over her face. “You…?”

“That’s Mando’a for ‘beautiful,’ right? Oh Maker, I didn’t say an insult by accident or anything, did I?” (Y/N) rambled, her panic beginning to rise as Din remained silent. “Son of a-”

In a flash, Din’s lips were on hers and he was kissing her with an unrelenting passion as his arms held her close. (Y/N) got over her initial shock and began kissing him back, her hands moving up to his hair and carding through the thick locks; Din moaned as her fingernails lightly scraped against his scalp and before she registered what was happening, he was hoisting her up into his arms and stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bunk. She was straddling his thighs and their bodies were flush against one another when they finally broke apart for air, but that didn’t stop Din; while she struggled to catch her breath, he began pressing kisses all over her face and neck, finally pulling away after kissing her lips one final time. He was beaming up at her, his brown eyes bright as his smile widened, and one of his hands came up to caress her cheek.

“I’d ask if you really meant that, but I already know that you do.” Din’s hand trailed down her neck to rest flat against her chest, right above where her heart was. “Because of this. You have the biggest heart, alor’ad, the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve ever met. It’s just…I can’t help but think I don’t deserve the love you’ve given me.”

“That makes two of us, Din.” (Y/N) replied, watching his eyes flutter closed while her fingers brushed the hair away from his forehead. “Sometimes I feel that you’re too good to me.”

Din shook his head, the loving look he gave her when he opened his eyes almost making her cry. “You deserve everything I can give you and more, you and the kid…” At the mention of Grogu, Din’s smile dimmed a little and his hand moved away from her chest to rest against the side of her neck. “(Y/N), if I…if things end up going sideways, I want you to continue our quest. Find a Jedi that will train the kid; you’re the only person I trust to do it.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) nodded. “Of course I will, but don’t forget what you promised me that day in the meadow. ‘Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.’” She held his face in between her hands and lowered her head to rest against his. “Please don’t forget that.”

“Never, alor’ad,” Din breathed, pressing feather-light kisses to her lips that managed to soothe her shaky nerves. “I could never.”

They sat there in the shuttle’s back compartment for several more minutes, their arms wrapped tightly around one another as they took solace in each other’s embrace. But their peaceful solitude came to an end when Din suggested they return to the shuttle’s cockpit and with a final kiss, (Y/N) slid off his lap and he put his helmet back on before opening the compartment’s door. That wasn’t a goodbye, she sternly told herself while they walked side-by-side, even if it felt a little like one.

Once back in the cockpit, (Y/N) resumed her seat, methodically checking system functions in preparation for Phase One as Bo-Katan took the co-pilot’s seat beside her. I’m not sure if she can be trusted, she thought to herself, watching the helmet-less Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye; Bo-Katan was hell-bent on finding Moff Gideon and retaking Mandalore, and (Y/N) had an uneasy feeling that she didn’t care who perished in her pursuit for vengeance. Her suspicions were confirmed when Bo-Katan called out, “Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“He’s ex-ISB,” Cara pointed out from behind them. “He’s got a lot of information, I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan merely shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

That made (Y/N)’s brow arch but she stayed silent, her hands continuing to fly over the buttons and switches; despite the seriousness of their situation, she couldn’t help but thrill at the opportunity to pilot a ship in a combat situation again. She sensed Din moving to stand directly behind her seat just as Boba Fett’s voice emitted from the communication radio. “Prepare to exit jump space.”

“Copy that,” (Y/N) replied, pressing a blinking button beside her before resting her hand on the shuttle’s main lever. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock.”

Beside her, Bo-Katan smirked to herself. “And your shots have to look convincing.”

(Y/N) heard Din heave an exasperated sigh as Boba chuckled. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons, okay? They’re real pieces of work; I’ve seen them take down X-Wings with a single shot.”

“Don’t worry about me, Captain, I’ll be all right.” Boba reassured her. “Just be careful in there.”

Nodding to herself, (Y/N) gripped the main lever and announced, “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

She pulled the lever down and returned her hands to the joysticks in front of her as the shuttle exited hyperspace. Moff Gideon’s cruiser loomed ahead of them and her stomach clenched in fury, speculations about what they might’ve done to Grogu unwillingly filling her mind. Giving her head a small shake, she yanked the joysticks to the right and dodged the shots Boba aimed at them before connecting their communication radio to the cruiser. “This is Lambda Shuttle 2743, requesting emergency docking.” She swerved again, making sure that her flying didn’t look too skilled as she continued. “Repeat, requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!”

There was a brief pause before a female Imperial officer responded. “Copy, Lambda Shuttle. Request received. Stay clear of launch tube, deploying fighter squadron.” They watched as the one of the cruiser’s TIE Fighters deployed and with a sideways glance at her co-pilot, (Y/N) flew the shuttle towards the exposed launch tube; she winced a little when they were almost clipped by a second TIE Fighter and the female officer called out, “Request denied! Please clear launch tube until fighters deploy!”

“Negative, negative! We are under attack!” Flipping a switch above her, (Y/N) increased their speed and steered the shuttle towards the launch tube straight ahead. In all her time as a smuggler, she could honestly say that this was the first time she’d ever piloted a speeding shuttle directly into another ship and without a proper landing array; it’s like Ahsoka said, she thought as her forehead began to bead with sweat, good or bad they’re always memorable.

“Clear launch tube immediately!”

(Y/N)’s arms began to shake with the effort of holding the joysticks steady, biting her lip while Bo-Katan activated their landing gear just in time for them to speed into the launch tube. Behind her, Fennec shouted, “Hang on!” and Din’s gloved hands clutched the back of her seat when the shuttle bumped against the sides of the launch tube. (Y/N)’s hands were on autopilot as she flipped switches and slammed buttons and in no time, she succeeded in making the shuttle slide to a complete stop. Her chest heaved and she struggled to catch her breath as the others got up and gathered their weapons, a part of her in absolute disbelief that she’d succeeded in landing them safely inside the cruiser.

“Well, alor’ad, you finally convinced me,” Din remarked, watching as she got to her feet and drew her blaster. “Smugglers are better pilots than bounty hunters.”

That made (Y/N) smile. “I think you meant to say that smugglers are better at everything, not just piloting.”

“Don’t push your luck, mir’sheb,” He jokingly retorted, his gloved hand resting against the small of her back; the two of them made their way over to where the four women were preparing to lower the shuttle’s ramp. “Good luck.”

Cara flashed them both a brief smile. “You too.”

Once the ramp lowered, the four of them stormed out of the shuttle and began taking out the Stormtroopers that had surrounded them. Blaster fire and dying screams rang through the air while (Y/N) and Din waited to exit the shuttle, their free hands holding each other’s tightly until everything was silent once again; (Y/N) looked up at Din just as he turned towards her and gave him a firm nod. “Let’s go and get Grogu back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad-Be safe, captain Alor'ad-Captain Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Mesh’la-Beautiful Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain

Chapter Twenty

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

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