#fives slow burn

[beadelmare]

i just had the most traumatic, diabolical, evil idea for a prophecy in my pjo dr for maximum emotional damage WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF

[ronidrakaina]

Thorin will protect what is HIS ⚔️🏔️💎 Mountain, Gems and shire Burglars included!

Chapter 2 of "Burglar of Mine" by Roni Drakaina is now on AO3! ✨📖

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62616745/chapters/160638898#workskin

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[rex-meshla]

Rex-Meshla's Masterlist ✨

Shadows of the Force

Captain Rex x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Steel Meets Silk

ARC Commander Colt x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Clone Drabbles

Commander Wolffe

Brat Summer

Testing Limits

Testing Limits —Part 2 (NSFW)

ARC Commander Colt

Take What You Need (NSFW)

Commander Fox

An Unusual Assignment

Captain Howzer

Stolen Nights and Shared Dreams

[youngeditor1999]

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 1

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

So this is the first fanfic I've ever written. I've been obsessed with star wars for years and with clone wars for months now, especially with Rex and I've had this story in my head constantly for almost a year. I have never written so many words so fast in my life. Made a tumblr account just to read Rex fanfics lol, so hope I get everything right when posting. I already have a couple more chapters written and many other ideas so this will be a long story. I try to follow canon but it does deviate from it a bit, and I'm also mixing some legends and a lot of headcanons in too. The story will deal with mature themes, I'm not yet sure how sexually explicit it'll get, again, never written fanfic before so not sure if I'm capable of writing smut lol but there's a big possibility. Also not gonna be very action-heavy, I'm more focused on relationships with other characters. Echo and Fives will appear a lot too cause I love them.

A/n: adding an edit to mention that I have in fact managed to write some smut in later chapters, so I guess that makes this story 18+. The chapters that have smut will be properly marked as such.

Word count: 3.8k Warnings: heavy drinking; talk of injury; implied ptsd; implied emotional abuse

Next chapter

mesh'la - beautiful di'kut - idiot

~~~

Lexie looked at her face in the mirror, pleading with her mind to allow her to remember what happened, but she’s met with the same confusing, unclear images she’s been trying to piece together for the past few weeks, images of barren landscapes, white armour, red eyes and the look of disgust in them, and was she in someone’s arms?

She read the report, she knows the facts what happened on Geonosis, but for the life of her, she cannot remember herself being there. She cannot remember her master abandoning her, why would he just leave? She cannot remember how she supposedly took charge of the squad of clone troopers that Master al’Prani was supposed to lead, tearing through battled droids trying to reach Anakin and Obi-Wan. And she cannot remember how she got injured. Her hand reaches to the back of her skull, fingers tracing the long scar that still feels tender. It shouldn’t do, not anymore, not after the months she spent in a coma, but she could swear it still hurt.

It didn’t feel real at first, waking up in a medical facility on Coruscant with only med droids around her to relay the news of her injury and the coma she had been in since. She had woken in such a panic that she didn’t even realise how she used the Force to throw one of said droids against a wall, shattering it to pieces. It didn’t get any better when Mace Windu and Obi-Wan finally came to talk to her, telling her about the war that the Separatists had started and the clone army that the Jedi were now leading. It didn’t feel right at all, Jedi as generals, how is that being keepers of the peace? But the most horrible blow came when Obi-Wan slowly sat down on the chair next to her bed and took her hand in his, a sombre expression on his face.

“Alexis, there is something else you should know”, she could feel that the news he was about to relay had something to do with her master, however Lexie could not believe the words that followed. “Master Safir’al’Prani has left the Jedi Order during the battle of Geonosis.”

“No that’s… that’s not possible” she said, voice coarse after months of not being used. “He was just with me, we were on a ship heading to Geonosis… t-to aid you and Anakin, and… did you say during?”

“Yes. Once the two of you got to Geonosis,” master Windu interjected, “he refused to fight alongside the clone troopers. He considered them…” he paused, carefully choosing the words to use, “beneath him. You can read the report yourself, one of the clones in your squad provided a detailed account of the situation”. My squad? blurry images of white armour flashed in her mind but Lexie forced her attention to master Windu’s words. His voice was steady, no hint of emotion as he nonchalantly delivered the most devastating news for Lexie to hear and then handing a datapad towards the injured Padawan.

Lexie took the datapad master Windu offered her, but could not bring herself to look at the report just yet, feeling the anger and pain bubbling up inside of her and worried about keeping her composure in front of the two Jedi. “Thank you masters, I will look through it later, I… I’m a bit lightheaded at the moment.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up from the chair. “We’ll let you rest now, gather your strength, we can discuss your situation at a later time”.

Your situation, the words ring in her head as she braided her bright red hair. She has a meeting with the Council that afternoon, after three weeks of physical therapy and psych evals she has no idea how she passed. Frustration increased as she once again could not hold onto the images that passed through her mind. What’s worse, she’s been feeling so disconnected from the Force, struggling to meditate, not that it ever came easy to her, and also use her abilities. Struggles she has kept from Obi-Wan, who has been checking in on her during her recovery. But now she had to face the Council, had to hide her struggles and insecurities from them, fearing disappointing them.

At least with Obi-Wan there, she hadn’t felt completely abandoned. Considering the amount of times Master al’Prani had dropped her on his head in the past few years, Obi-Wan was becoming more of a master to her than al’Prani ever was. Guess I shouldn’t be that surprised he just up and left me on a battlefield, she thought to herself, anger bubbling inside of her again. But she still was surprised, and angry, and confused, she tried to not blame herself but she couldn’t help feeling like it was somehow her fault, like if she hadn’t been such a disappointment to him, he would not have left. She shook her head trying to get the thoughts out then looked at the time. Shit! She was late.

Reaching the door to the Council room, Lexie stopped to catch her breath and to adjust her black robes. She didn’t wear this colour before but considered it appropriate these past couple of weeks, feeling as if she was almost in mourning. Taking three long breaths, she tried to clear her mind before entering the room.

“Waiting we have been, come, come”. All eyes followed her as she approached the centre. She looked around quickly, taking in the forms present in person or via hologram, then lowered her head and spoke as clear as she could, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice, “My apologies Master Yoda, I seem to have lost track of time.”

“How are you feeling, Alexis?”  Obi-Wan asked.

“Better, Master. I have been cleared by the medics, I am ready to return to my duties.” She replied, trying to sound confident. This is what I need right now, she thought, craving something to occupy her mind, some action so she could feel like herself again.

“Good to hear that is. A decision about your future this Council has made” Yoda continued. Lexie looked at him, waiting for her verdict. Her heart was pounding in her chest as all her concentration was focused on her mental walls, trying as hard as she could not to let the council members feels the anxiety within her.

“As you know,” Mace Windu begun talking, “former master al’Prani was reaching the end of your training. He believed there wasn’t much left for him to teach you”.

She tried to stop her face from grimacing at the words, remembering a similar sentence al’Prani had spoken to her months before Geonosis: “You seem intent on not learning any lesson I am trying to teach you”. Her mind got lost in the memory, anxiety slowly enveloping all her senses.

“…to consider what you have been through on Geonosis as your Trials and grant you the rank of Jedi Knight”. Those words snapped Lexie back to the present, did she hear him right? Did they really believe she was ready to be a Knight?  She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but immediately closed it. What was she going to do, argue with the Council’s decision? But how can they say I passed Trials that I don’t even remember? she thought, but then recalled how she kept that piece of information from them, not even confiding in Obi-Wan about her memory problems.

“We thought you would be more excited about this”, Obi-Wan’s voice stopped her rambling thoughts.

 “I-I am, of course. It’s just a lot to take in, and, if I am honest, I cannot stop feeling a little disappointed my master is not here to give me the… the happy news himself”, Lexie answered, cringing internally at how fast she spoke and how forced the words had sounded. “What happens now? Do I get assigned a battalion?” she asked after a short pause, hoping to move the subject along.

“At this time we cannot assign you your own battalion”, Master Windu spoke again, either not noticing or not wanting to deal with her conflicting emotions. “However, we believe the best course of action would be for you to join Anakin Skywalker as second commanding officer of the 501st. This arrangement could prove… mutually beneficial”.

“Mutually beneficial?”, she repeated, a slight frown showing on her face.

“Yes. You see, Anakin has been in command of this battalion for a few months now, so there’s a lot you could learn from him”, Obi-Wan interjected; she swore she could hear Master Windu scoff at that statement. “And in turn you could help… curve his impulsiveness, be a good influence on him. The battalion is due to return on world later today and Anakin is expecting you at the barracks first thing tomorrow”, Obi-Wan concluded, giving her a reassuring smile.

Lexie almost laughed at this. If they think I could be a good influence on anybody they don’t know me that well. She kept that thought to herself however, and instead bowed her head. “I understand. Thank you masters, I will do as instructed”.

On her way back to her room Lexie felt the anxiety creeping back in, filling every space of her mind. She was not ready for this, how could they think she was ready for this? Upon reaching her room she quickly peeled off her robes, the layers suddenly suffocating her. She sat down on the floor, trying to meditate, to ground herself in the moment, feeling the beginning of a panic attack. She didn’t think she had panic attacks before. But ever since waking up from her coma, they had been a common occurrence.

Meditating proved more effective this time, Lexie’s heartrate coming back to a more normal pace after a few minutes. Maker, I need a drink, she thought. She dug through her closet, looking for a more inconspicuous outfit, not wishing to attract much attention to herself when out. As a Jedi, she didn’t own many clothing items, however she did have a couple dresses and blouses that she would use on nights out, nights when she pretended to be a regular woman enjoying herself in a club or bar. For this occasion, though, she found a plain, dark-grey hooded jacket that she threw over the black tank top she was already wearing. She kept it unbuttoned, a moderate amount of cleavage still visible. She wasn’t going to specifically look for a hook-up tonight, but wasn’t necessarily opposed to anyone coming up to hit on her.

She went to her usual club, planning on only having one, maybe two drinks. However, the need to drown her insecurities got the better of her and five drinks later she was still at the bar, flirting with a Pantoran man who had just offered to buy her another drink.

She liked the confidence that being drunk would give her, she felt like a different person altogether, like a normal person who could comfortably flirt with other people. She wondered for a second if it was problematic that pretty much all of her hook-ups happened whilst she was drunk, or at least tipsy, but she tried to assure herself that she had always been in control, knowing her limit; hell, she had never gotten blackout drunk, never once vomited from alcohol, she just liked to have fun occasionally, to blow off steam.

Lexie was about to accept the man’s offer when she spotted a familiar Tholothian woman walking in the club. Shit, Gemma. The next second Lexie had pulled the hood over her head and was almost running to the exit, keeping her head down as the Tholothian made her way to a booth where she was greeted by loud, already drunk friends. Lexie exhaled a sigh of relief as she stepped in the chilly night air of Coruscant.

She could not deal with seeing Gemma right now, or with the apologies she would have to make. Guilt crept inside of her as she thought of how she basically ghosted the poor woman. I did say from the beginning that I cannot do more than casual, she tried pleading with her guilty conscience, but she knew she had not treated Gemma right.

Lexie realised she had been walking aimlessly for quite some time now, lost in her guilt, and stopped to look around confused as to where she was. The alcohol in her system was also not helping her in recognising her surroundings. She heard loud chatter ahead and followed it, coming face to face with what was, for her, an unusual sight.

She wasn’t used to the clones yet, she had seen a few troopers around, mainly the Coruscant guard or Commander Cody when he would come to retrieve Obi-Wan, but she hadn’t interacted with them at all during her recovery. But now, in front of a cantina she could see was named 79s, Lexie saw a bunch of them, in either officer uniform or in armor with various markings on it. She observed them for a little while, drunk, rowdy, joking around amongst themselves, they didn’t seem to act any different than other drunk men she had encountered in clubs before.

Alcohol-induced curiosity got the better of her and she decided to go inside the bar. I might as well get used to being among these men, she justified in her head. As she made her way to the entrance she pulled her hood down, gaining a low wolf-whistle that she ignored from one of the clones stood by the entrance.

The club was dimly lit and crowded, mainly with clones, but other sentients, mostly women as far as she could see, were mingling with the troopers. Lexie made her way to the bar, sitting down on a barstool as she ordered a cocktail. She looked around the space, taking in the different hairstyles or tattoos that the clones had, fascinated by their need for individuality. But they really were all individuals, she could feel them each through the Force, all their life signatures unique, something that really surprised her.

Lexie hadn’t thought about them much these past few weeks, being solely focused on her recovery. But being inside the bar right now, she was suddenly struck by how human they all were and, just as suddenly, the knowledge that the Republic had bred these sentient, living beings just to throw them into a war made her feel a pit inside her stomach.

Lexie was brought back from her unnerving thoughts by the realisation that she was being watched and turned her head slightly, just in time to notice two clones basically pushing a third clone towards herself. The clone stumbled and briefly met her eyes, before quickly averting them, embarrassment and nervousness seeping from his Force signature, followed by annoyance as he turned his head to look back at the men that threw him into this situation.

“H-Hi…”, he managed to say, looking back at her.

“Hello there”, Lexie replied, voice full of amusement. This should be fun, she thought to herself, studying the trooper in front of her. There wasn’t anything particular about his appearance, he had a standard haircut and no visible tattoos. The most striking aspect of his look was the handprint located on his chestplate, similar but not identical in colour to the other blue markings on his armor; blue, is that the 501st colour?

“I uhh… I’m Echo”, he said hesitantly.

“That’s an… interesting name. Is that short for echolocation, do you have really good hearing or something?”, Lexie replied teasingly.

“Umm, no, I wish”, he said with an embarrassed chuckle, “I-I used to have this tendency to repeat the orders we were given during training. My umm… my brothers used it to tease me and I guess it just stuck”.

“Well, it’s a pretty cool name regardless”, Lexie said, earning a shy smile from the trooper that was still stood stiffly next to her. “So what brings you over here, Echo?”, she gestured to the space between the two of them.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t really my idea, umm… my brothers keep insisting I need to… umm… talk to a woman. I’m sorry for disturbing you”, he said apologetically. Lexie looked over his shoulder to where the two clones were now leaning on the end of the bar, far enough that she didn’t think they could hear their conversation, but clearly still keeping an eye on their brother’s attempt at flirting.

One of the clones had a more striking appearance, his hair shaved, a big tattoo of the Republic crest adorned half his face and a big part of his skull. The other clone also had a facial tattoo, however smaller and on his right temple, showing the number five in Aurebesh; his appearance was otherwise that of a standard clone, minus a hint of a goatee on his chin.

“No worries, I was starting to get bored actually. And I assume that if I turn you away they’ll just find another woman to throw you at?” she asked half laughing.

“Most likely”, Echo answered with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Then you’d better join me”, Lexie said motioning to the empty barstool next to her. “I expect they’ll leave you alone if they believe you’re getting somewhere”.

Echo reluctantly took the seat next to Lexie, even more nervousness enveloping his Force signature. They sat in silence for a moment as Lexie took a few sips of her drink. Finally, Echo seemed to have gathered enough courage to continue their conversation.

  “I-I don’t want to give you the wrong idea if… umm… if you were looking for…”, he paused, having trouble choosing his words, “for something specific tonight”. His eyes could not meet hers, instead focusing on the drink that she was holding.

 Lexie let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry, honey, I was not going to sleep with you even if you had wanted it.”

 “That’s good”, Echo said with a small sight of relief. “I mean I-I don’t want to offend you, I’m just not…”, he paused, unsure if he should be admitting this out loud. “I’m just not really interested in this.”

 “This being women?”, she asked tentatively.

 “Women, men, anyone for that matter. I just don’t think I’m… attracted to anyone”, Echo replied, eyes turned back to her face, awaiting to see her reaction.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know that right? And your brothers shouldn’t force you to be someone you’re not just because they refuse to understand”, Lexie replied with a little indignation in her voice.

“No, I know, I’m not ashamed or anything”, he continued. “And they’re not… well I never actually tried to explain it to them. When Fives and I were at the outpost there was no need to talk about it and I managed to avoid it the last time we were on Coruscant. Fives was too busy finding someone for himself and didn’t pay much attention to me all four days of our leave. This is only the second time we’ve been here actually, Fives and I that is. Jesse has been with the 501st longer than we have.”

So they are with the 501st. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume Fives is the one with the tattoo of the number five”, Lexie remarked with mock deliberation, looking over Echo’s shoulder at the clone in question.

 “Yeah that is a good assumption”, he said with a small laugh. Lexie could feel he was more relaxed now and was surprised to discover she was actually enjoying his company. She’s never really had friendly conversations in bars before, usually only approaching people when she was interested in a possible hook-up, or on the occasions she was looking for information during a mission.

Echo talked a little about the shenanigans he and Fives used to get into back as cadets on Kamino, making Lexie genuinely laugh a couple of time. She could tell that the bond between the two men was special and couldn’t help feeling a little envious. Her thoughts briefly wondered towards her own family, Myria’s face appearing into her mind. No, stop that. She had to change the subject.

 “So, the famous 501st. What is that like?”, she asked after taking a sip of her drink.

“I don’t know if we’re that famous, but they’re good men, all of them. And our general is one of the best”, he answered proudly. “It’s weird though, the reason we’re back on Coruscant is so we can pick up a new general, which seems unnecessary. Fives said they’re probably sending some boring, stuck-up Jedi to babysit General Skywalker, the other Jedi must believe he’s too impulsive”.

  “Anakin impulsive? No way”, Lexie replied with sarcastic shock and a laugh. A sly smile crept on her face as she watched the confused expression Echo made. She stood and downed the last of her drink. “And I wouldn’t worry about the new general, she’s not that bad I think. But then again, I am biased”.

 Echo opened his mouth to say something but before he could get the words out Fives was at Lexie’s side, his hand sliding on her lower back.

“You’re not leaving, are you mesh’la?” he asked in a sweet voice.

 “Oh you’re a bold one”, she replied glancing at his arm and then back at his face, matching the tone of his voice. She was intrigued by the word he used to address her. Was that in Mando’a?

“What can I say, it breaks my heart to see a beautiful woman leave this place disappointed. Unlike this di’kut over here I could make it worth your while if you stayed a little longer”, he said as his head jerked towards Echo then lowered a little towards her.

 “Fives!”, Echo said in an urgent tone, “she’s a Jedi. I think.” His eyes met Lexie’s looking for confirmation, embarrassment once again engulfing him.

“Ten points for Echo”, she replied with a laugh. Fives’ hand immediately withdrew from her body, landing on the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously.

  “S-Sorry, Sir, I didn’t realise”, he said, concern easy to distinguish in his voice as he stepped away from her. Sir? Is that what everyone is gonna call me?

“No need to worry, honey”, she said, amused by the clone’s reaction. “And to answer your question, I am unfortunately leaving, have to be up early.” She noticed the other clone – Jesse, Echo said, right? – had approached them and she gave him a smile. She patted Echo twice on the shoulder and started making her way towards the exit, turning her head to loudly say “see you tomorrow, boys!”.

She laughed to herself as she heard Echo tell the others “I think that was our new general” before the distance snuffed out their voices and she went out the door into the cold night air.

[loving-the-cambridges]

The Winter Rose Blooms

Summary: a renowned matchmaker, is tasked with finding a bride for Cody, the heir to the throne of the royal family on a snowy, idyllic planet far away in the galaxy. But while the reader is determined to fulfill her duty, she doesn’t expect to fall for Rex, the spare prince with a heart of gold and a penchant for mischief. As snow falls and the warmth of the season unfolds, love blooms where it’s least expected—proving that sometimes, the best matches aren’t planned at all.

A/N: This story was inspired by a Christmas movie I’d seen, and I thought it would be a lovely addition to the Clone Wars holiday stories out there. I wanted to blend the charm of royal romance with the rich camaraderie and emotional depth of the Clone Wars characters, creating something heartfelt and festive. I hope this brings a little joy and warmth to your holiday reading!

-----

Alderia hung in the vast tapestry of the galaxy like a jewel lost to time. Its beauty was so tangible it might have been carved by the hand of a benevolent god—so much so that travelers whispered of it as though it were myth. Planets in the Outer Rim were rarely spoken of with reverence, but Alderia was an exception.  

From orbit, its surface shimmered with life. Indigo oceans spread like veins, their depths glowing faintly under the light of its twin moons, Ceera and Lumar. Snow-draped mountains clawed skyward to the west, their jagged peaks sharp as blades forged by time. These were the **Jolaris Mountains**, home to valleys choked in mist and legends older than the Republic itself. Waterfalls crashed over cliffsides like liquid silver, feeding rivers that snaked their way down into the open arms of Alderia's vast countryside.

The countryside—The Naldorian Reach—unfurled endlessly, rippling with gold, green, and copper in the light of a low sun. Fields of fireflowers swayed like waves of flame, their petals casting a soft glow under the night. Here, farmers tended to crops that fed not just their planet but many others who came seeking Alderia’s bounty. Herds of **tarka**, long-horned creatures with coats of soft silver fur, grazed freely. Villages sprouted amidst the land like freckles, their cottages carved from smooth gray stone, smoke curling peacefully from their chimneys.  

To the south lay the **Ivaryn Seas**, sprawling sapphire waters where waves crashed against cliffs shaped by a millennia of tides. Ships from the far corners of the galaxy anchored here, their sails or thrusters spilling stories of distant systems. Markets brimmed with alien goods—rugs woven on Naboo, glittering crystals mined deep on Christophsis, and spices from the windswept plains of Tatooine. Valford Prime, the capital, sprawled in the planet’s heart—a city of bridges and canals, where modern steel and glass spires rose alongside mosaicked relics of a bygone age.

The people of Alderia were as colorful as their planet, a mosaic of cultures that had long made their home here. They came in pursuit of peace, a place unspoiled by galactic war or greed, and they stayed because Alderia embraced them as its own. Their tongues spoke many languages, their songs carried many traditions. And together, they loved their planet like a child loves its mother—fiercely, selflessly.

It was a place alive in a way the rest of the galaxy seemed to have forgotten.

---

On the highest balcony of Valford Prime’s royal palace, Jaster stood, his silhouette backlit by the rising sun. The crisp morning air rolled in from the Jolaris peaks, carrying the scent of pine, frost, and the delicate winter roses blooming in the gardens below. Jaster let his gaze drift across the world beneath him—the tapestry of mountains, plains, and seas spread out like a promise that no longer belonged to him.  

For all its splendor, Alderia felt quieter these days.  

The king’s fingers curled around the carved stone railing, his knuckles white for a fleeting moment before he forced himself to relax. He had been many things in his lifetime: a leader, a diplomat, a soldier in his youth—but never, not once, had he imagined becoming a father to five boys who were not his own.  

Jaster closed his eyes, and with the softness of morning came the memory.  

**Jango.**  

His son. His only child.  

It had been nearly two decades, but loss was a wound that time refused to stitch closed. *A shuttle accident*, they had told him, voices brittle with grief. Somewhere deep in the Jolaris range, a storm had come—sudden and ferocious—and Alderia’s skies had swallowed Jango whole. 

Jaster could still remember the sound of it. The palace had been filled with the silence of disbelief when they broke the news. He had stood in this very spot, the soft white petals of the winter roses fluttering like snow at his feet, and watched as the light drained from the world. *There were no survivors.*  

The boy who had once tugged at Jaster’s sleeves to ask about the galaxy’s endless stars, the boy who had loved the Naldorian fields in summer and the Ivaryn tides in winter—was gone.

Jaster hadn’t had the privilege of breaking down. No, he had been king, and kings were not allowed to fall apart. Not even when the palace halls echoed emptily, devoid of Jango’s laughter.  

Instead, he had been given **Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, and Jesse**—Jango’s sons, the living pieces of a man taken far too soon. Jaster had buried his grief beneath the weight of a grandfather’s love, raising them not as heirs to a throne but as boys who deserved to be happy. They had become his solace, his redemption.  

Cody, the eldest, wore his crown of responsibility like a second skin. Rex, the second-born, with his disarming grin and glinting eyes, walked the line between playfulness and quiet longing. The twins, Fives and Echo, filled the palace with energy—always underfoot, always in trouble. And Jesse, the youngest, carried his father’s fire in his veins, a boy whose resolve burned brighter than any star.  

Jaster had given them everything. And yet—what kind of legacy had he built for them?

---

A soft knock broke the quiet. Jaster turned, regal in his bearing despite the wear that life had etched onto his face. The sun cast a faint golden glow across the silver in his hair, his blue eyes reflecting a wisdom hard-earned.  

“Your Majesty?”  

The aide bowed low, his tone quiet, respectful. “The matchmaker has arrived. She awaits you in the library.”  

Ah, yes. The matchmaker. A measure born of desperation.  

Jaster sighed softly, one hand smoothing down the front of his coat—a finely woven garment in royal indigo trimmed with silver thread. To an outsider, he looked every bit the monarch: commanding, poised, untouchable. But in the shadow of his sharp jawline lingered exhaustion that no cloak of dignity could quite disguise.  

He turned back once more to the balcony, to the world that stretched far beyond the palace walls. Alderia, his Alderia, had flourished under his rule. But peace, he knew, was fragile. The galaxy was changing. And for the good of the throne, for the future of his people, Cody needed a bride—a match worthy of Alderia’s weight.  

And so, he had called for the matchmaker.  

Jaster straightened, his spine as unbending as the mountains that guarded his kingdom. “I will meet her shortly.”  

The aide bowed again, retreating quietly, leaving Jaster alone once more.  

For a long moment, the king lingered, his gaze drifting back to the horizon where the snow-capped Jolaris Mountains kissed the sky.  

“Forgive me, Jango,” he murmured, his voice soft as the wind that swept over the balcony. “I do this for them.”  

The winter roses rustled faintly below, their pale petals gleaming against the frost-dusted ground.  

With a final breath, Jaster turned and strode back into the palace, his footsteps slow but deliberate. The weight of a king's duty was an old companion. And today, it would guide him once more.

****

The moment (Y/n) stepped onto the landing platform, the weight of Alderia hit her—not physically, but something deeper, a resonance in her bones, as though the planet itself whispered secrets into the chill air. The sky was a pale lavender, soft with the blush of morning, its twin suns still climbing beyond the horizon. Frost edged the paving stones in delicate patterns, shimmering under the orange glow of guiding lights. A cool wind swept across the platform, tugging strands of her dark hair loose from the elegant twist she’d fashioned earlier.

“Focus,” she told herself, clutching the leather strap of her bag tightly against her shoulder.

(Y/n) (Y/L/N) was no stranger to royal summons. Over the years, her work had brought her across countless systems, from the gilded halls of Serenno to the sunlit courts of Naboo. And while reputations varied from planet to planet, hers was solid. The matchmaker of the galaxy, they called her, though there was little romance in it. Matching was business—an art woven with precision, calculation, and a touch of intuition.

Yet Alderia felt... different. Its air carried an ancient weight, its silence deeper than she expected, as though the planet had stopped to watch her.

***

a man with sharp shoulders and a pinched expression. His uniform was immaculate—a deep indigo tunic lined with silver trim—and though his demeanor was courteous, he appraised (Y/n) with quick, analytical eyes.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” he said with a clipped nod. “The King awaits you.”

(Y/n) inclined her head politely, forcing herself to ignore the slight hitch in her chest. She had been briefed on King Jaster: widowed early, robbed of his only son, a ruler both beloved and distant. A man who had borne more loss than most could survive.

Still, standing here—before a palace of towering spires and ancient glass—it was impossible not to feel small.

As she was led into the main corridor, her breath caught.

***

The palace of Valford Prime was magnificent, but not in the way of grand and showy courts she had seen before. It was old, as though carved from the very mountains that loomed over it, a place built to last centuries. Smooth stone walls rose high above her, their surfaces interrupted by arches lined with mosaics—each a depiction of Alderia’s history. Fireflowers wove through the tiles like bursts of flame, their bright scarlet contrasting the muted greys and creams.

Beneath her feet, polished marble stretched out in soft hues of onyx and ivory, cool even through the soles of her boots. Chandeliers hung overhead, forged from glass and silver, casting warm pools of golden light onto the floor. The air smelled faintly of pinewood smoke and winter roses—subtle, familiar scents that spoke of comfort and care.

(Y/n)’s gaze moved to the stained-glass windows that framed the corridor. Each pane glowed softly with the light of morning, their surfaces painted with intricate scenes—warriors standing beside tamed tarkas, scholars presenting star maps, families gathered under twin moons.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, unable to stop herself.

The attendant glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a flicker of approval hidden behind his professionalism. “Alderia has always valued its legacy.”

(Y/n) nodded, though something unspoken lingered in his words. A place so steeped in beauty, so carefully tended—what would happen to it if its legacy was left unfulfilled?

***

She was led through a series of adjoining halls, their silence punctuated only by the occasional hum of droids or the shuffle of guards shifting to attention. Her boots clicked softly against the marble, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness.

At last, the attendant paused before a grand wooden door. It was old, carved with swirling patterns of vines and blooming roses, the kind of artistry no one bothered with anymore.

“The king is within,” the attendant said, stepping aside.

(Y/n) swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Adjusting the collar of her deep emerald coat, she gave herself a moment to breathe, centering the cool calm she wore as armor. It was just another meeting—another royal court. Another job.

She stepped through the door.

***

Warmth greeted her first.

The library was a cathedral of wood and firelight, a room made of shadows and amber glow. Shelves of carved mahogany stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed with tomes whose spines had been worn smooth by centuries of hands. A fire crackled low in a stone hearth to her left, the flames dancing as though pleased to have company. Its glow painted the dark green walls with flickers of gold, spilling light across a pair of leather armchairs positioned before it.

The room smelled of old parchment, leather, and pine smoke, with an undertone of something distinctly Alderian—a faint sweetness, perhaps from the roses (Y/n) had noticed earlier.

Then she saw him.

****

King Jaster stood near the fire, one hand resting on the back of an armchair as though he were only half-present in the room.

The man was every inch the ruler she’d been told to expect. Tall and imposing, with broad shoulders and a straight back that spoke of years spent wearing authority like armor. His hair, streaked with silver, framed a face marked by both strength and sorrow—deep lines etched at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Yet there was something warm in those eyes, a glint of sharp intelligence softened by what might have once been humor.

For a man who had lost so much, Jaster still carried himself with a quiet kind of grace.

When he turned to face her fully, (Y/n) felt the weight of his gaze—not cruel, nor suspicious, but thoughtful, as though he were assessing not just who she was but what she carried with her.

“You are (Y/n) (Y/L/N),” he said, his voice deep, deliberate, yet not unkind. “The matchmaker.”

“I am,” she replied, offering a slight bow of her head. “Your Majesty.”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze sharp as a vibroblade.

“I’ve heard of your reputation,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, laced with something she couldn’t yet name. “Your work has taken you to many worlds. Alderia is far from most of them.”

“I go where I’m needed.” (Y/n) straightened, meeting his gaze. “And I understand your need is urgent.”

Jaster’s lips twitched slightly, though it was not quite a smile.

“That remains to be seen.” He gestured toward the chair across from his own. “Please, sit.”

****

(Y/n) moved carefully, lowering herself into the chair, her posture poised. The leather creaked faintly beneath her, though the warmth of the fire softened the chill that had clung to her skin since she’d arrived.

Jaster sank into his own seat with a kind of weary elegance, his large hands resting on the arms of the chair. He studied her again—longer this time—his sharp blue eyes seeming to measure something deeper than the surface.

“And what do you know of Alderia, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

(Y/n) met his gaze, calm despite the tension crackling softly in the air. “I know it is a planet unlike most in the Outer Rim. It thrives because its people believe in its beauty, its harmony. I know that legacy matters here.”

“Legacy.” Jaster repeated the word slowly, as though tasting its edges. His gaze turned toward the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes. “You understand, then, what is at stake.”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she said gently.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and alive with unspoken things. Then, finally, Jaster leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

“Do you believe love can be found, Miss (Y/L/N)? Or is it simply a convenience we dress up in finer clothes?”

The question caught her off guard, though she didn’t show it.

She hesitated for the briefest moment before answering. “I believe love is where it’s most unexpected. It is rarely found—it’s discovered.”

For a heartbeat, the fire crackled louder than the space between them. Then something shifted in Jaster’s expression—a faint softening, perhaps, though it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

“Unexpected,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Finally, Jaster leaned back, his gaze settling on her once again.

“Very well, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said quietly, his voice low but steady. “We shall see what it is you discover here.”

(Y/n) let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The king’s words were not a dismissal, but they were far from a welcome.

This job—this planet—would be unlike any other.

And as she looked at the man before her, cloaked in firelight and the burden of his world, (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel it: the subtle, creeping certainty that Alderia had already begun to change her.

****

(Y/n) had always believed that a palace, no matter how grand, was not the heart of a world—its people were. Alderia, with its quiet beauty and timeless grace, had struck her deeply the moment she arrived, but the palace, however warm its firelight, still carried a weight she could not shake. She needed fresh air, needed to step out beyond the stone walls that hummed with centuries of whispers.

After unpacking her modest belongings in the chamber provided to her—a room lined with thick tapestries and velvet curtains that carried the faint scent of pine—(Y/n) changed into a more practical ensemble. She had traded her formal coat and boots for simpler attire: a dark cloak lined with fur at the collar, gloves to stave off the bite of winter, and soft leather boots that muffled her footsteps as she walked.

Slipping out of the palace had been easier than expected. The guards at the entryway, though vigilant, simply nodded respectfully as she passed. She had seen that nod before—a subtle acknowledgment of her position and, more importantly, a quiet curiosity. The matchmaker. A stranger.

The old town of Valford Prime welcomed her with open arms, though its embrace was brisk. The streets were alive in a way the palace could never be, bustling with the music of life—merchants calling out their wares, children laughing as they darted through narrow alleyways, the rhythmic clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Above it all, twin moons Lumar and Ceera hung low, their pale glow softening the morning light.

***

The old town of Valford Prime was alive, its streets humming with a rhythm all their own—organic, vibrant, and timeless. The crisp winter air had settled into the crevices of cobbled lanes and market stalls, carrying the mingling scents of roasting nuts, fresh-baked bread, and something faintly floral. Overhead, narrow bridges connected weathered buildings, draped in vines hardened by frost, their windows aglow with amber light from within.

(Y/n) lingered at the edge of the square, letting the sounds and sights of this place wash over her. Markets like this were the pulse of any world, but here in Alderia, it felt different. Deliberate. Every moment was savored, every small interaction carried meaning, as though time itself bent to the will of the people.

She absently brushed her fingers over the pendant in her pocket—the winter rose carving gifted to her by the old vendor. Her heart had been warmed by the woman’s quiet reverence for the royal family, but it had also left her unsettled. The king’s grief hung over this planet like morning mist—something beautiful and tragic all at once. She wondered if his grandsons carried that same weight, if they felt the threads of history pulling tight against their every step.

***

The sound of laughter broke through her thoughts—a rich, rolling kind of laughter that came from the belly and pulled others along with it. (Y/n) turned toward its source, weaving through the throngs of market-goers until she spotted a heavy-set man behind a fruit stall. His skin was weathered bronze, his cheeks red from the cold, and his thick hands moved deftly as he peeled a citrus fruit the size of her fist.

“Oi, girl, you look lost!” he called to her with a voice as big as he was. “Or maybe you’re just trying to figure out how one fruit can look so strange.” He grinned and held up the half-peeled fruit, the vibrant orange skin spiraling down in one clean piece.

(Y/n) smiled, the man’s boisterous energy infectious. “I wouldn’t say lost,” she replied as she approached, tilting her head to examine the fruit. “Curious, perhaps.”

“Curious is good,” he said with a wag of his finger, “it means you’re alive. And on a cold day like this, I’ll take life over numb fingers any day.” He sliced off a chunk of the fruit and offered it to her on the flat edge of his knife. “Here. You can’t walk these streets without tasting them.”

(Y/n) hesitated only briefly before accepting the slice, her gloved fingers brushing the cool blade as she took it. The fruit’s juice burst across her tongue—bright, tart, and tangy, like sunlight distilled into flavor.

“That’s…” she paused, blinking in surprise. “Incredible.”

The man barked a laugh that startled a pigeon off a nearby ledge. “Alderian sunfruit, miss! They don’t grow anywhere else, no matter how hard those Coruscanti botanists try. You’ve got to let the soil sing to them.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but smile. “And does the soil sing to everything here?”

“Everything and everyone,” the man replied, his tone softening. His jovial exterior gave way to something gentler as he wiped his hands on a cloth and leaned against his stall. “That’s why we love this place. Alderia’s got a heart, girl. It’s old, and it’s strong, and we listen to it when it speaks.”

(Y/n) watched him carefully, noting the way his hands stilled and his gaze drifted toward the palace spires visible in the distance. The king. She didn’t need to ask to know that was what he thought of.

“The royal family?” she prompted softly, her words barely more than a breath. “Do they listen too?”

The man straightened, his large frame suddenly still, as though he were measuring her. “The king has given more of himself to this place than most men could,” he said finally. “He’s loved it, fought for it, bled for it—and lost for it, too.” He nodded toward the palace, his eyes soft but resolute. “Jaster’s a good man. The kind you don’t see much of anymore. And the boys? Well, we see their father in them.”

“Jango,” (Y/n) murmured, almost to herself.

The man’s face softened further, and he nodded slowly. “Aye. He was a good lad—brash, brave, and full of fire. The twins take after him the most, you know. Always stirring trouble, but their hearts are in the right place.”

(Y/n) tucked that bit of information away carefully, feeling as though each word, each sentiment, brought her closer to understanding this family she had been tasked with helping. She thanked the man with a sincere smile and turned to leave, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Be careful with them,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “The royal family—they carry Alderia’s soul on their backs. They’re stronger than most, but even mountains crack under too much weight.”

***

approaching a small wooden stall draped in thick blankets of deep purple and teal. The vendor behind it was an older woman, her cheeks pink from the cold, her hands calloused and strong. A wooden carving of the Jolaris Mountains sat at the corner of the table, its edges smooth from being held. (Y/n)’s gloved fingers brushed it gently, tracing the peaks.

“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly, smiling as she met the woman’s curious gaze. “You carved this?”

The woman tilted her head, clearly surprised to see someone like (Y/n) standing here—someone whose finely tailored cloak marked her as not local. Still, her expression softened into something kind.

“My grandson did,” she said, her voice husky with age but filled with pride. “He’s good with his hands, that boy. Learnt from his father.”

(Y/n) picked up the carving, its weight solid and grounding in her palm. “The Jolaris. They look so much more alive here than they do from the palace.”

The woman chuckled, a dry sound that seemed to carry centuries of wisdom. “The mountains were here before kings. They’ll be here long after. Carve them enough, you might just capture their spirit.”

(Y/n) smiled faintly, placing the carving back down. “How long have you lived here, in Valford Prime?”

The woman’s eyes gleamed. “Born here, just like my mother and her mother before her. Never left Alderia, though my eldest has. Went offworld to Coruscant. Too noisy there for me, but she loves it.”

(Y/n) leaned forward slightly, as though the question might slip from her lips if she wasn’t careful. “And the king? What do you think of him?”

It was a bold question. Too bold, maybe. But (Y/n) had always believed the truth of a royal family lay with its people.

The woman didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned her attention to the carving, running a finger along its edge. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a reverence tempered by understanding.

“King Jaster has seen more loss than most men would survive,” she said simply, looking up to meet (Y/n)’s gaze with eyes sharp as glass. “But he still stands. That’s no small thing.”

(Y/n) held her breath for a moment. He still stands.

“And his grandsons?” she asked, her tone gentler now, though she could feel the woman’s watchful gaze.

The woman’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “The boys are the heart of Alderia, even if they don’t know it yet. Cody carries the world on his back like his father. Rex? Well, he’s a storm—wild but good for the earth when he settles. The twins are trouble, but trouble’s not always bad, is it?” She chuckled to herself, her hands busily folding a thick blanket. “And Jesse—ah, the youngest has his father’s fire. That boy will burn bright when his time comes.”

Something in (Y/n)’s chest tightened as the woman spoke. There was no need to ask about their late father. Jango’s absence hung between the words unspoken, like a ghost that refused to rest.

****

(Y/n)’s steps were slower as she left the market square, her mind full. The fruit vendor’s words lingered in her thoughts, their simplicity carrying the kind of wisdom she had only ever found in people who lived close to the earth.

As she turned into a narrow alleyway, the scent of roasting chestnuts caught her attention. A small, sputtering fire crackled under an iron grate where an elderly man turned a pan slowly, humming a tune so low it blended with the pop of the coals. His clothes were rough, patched at the knees, and his cap was pulled low to shield his face from the cold. Yet his motions were unhurried, deliberate—as though each chestnut deserved his full care.

(Y/n) paused, her hands tucked into the warmth of her cloak. “That song,” she said quietly, tilting her head, “it’s beautiful. Where is it from?”

The man didn’t look up right away, his gnarled fingers moving with practiced ease. “Alderian lullaby,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “My grandmother sang it to me when I was small.” Finally, he lifted his head, his sharp eyes—clouded slightly with age—fixing on hers. “You’re not from here.”

“No,” (Y/n) admitted softly, stepping closer as the fire cast flickering shadows on the alley walls. “I’m not.”

“And yet you ask questions like you wish you were,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as though peering into her. “Why?”

“I like to understand,” she replied. “People, places. The stories they carry.”

The man’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Stories are heavy things, girl. You best know what you’re asking to hold.”

(Y/n) felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air as she crouched beside the fire. “And what of the king’s story? Or his family’s?”

The man turned the pan once more, the flames licking at the edges. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then you’ve seen it already.” He handed her a chestnut wrapped in a strip of cloth to protect her fingers. “Grief leaves marks on a man, but love does too. Jaster carries both. And those boys of his—” He paused, staring at the fire for a long moment, his voice dropping into something reverent. “They carry their father’s shadow like a torch. Bright and heavy.”

(Y/n) accepted the chestnut, its warmth spreading into her palm.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The old man gave her a slow, meaningful nod before turning back to his fire, the lullaby drifting up again like smoke curling into the sky.

***

“Here, miss,” the woman said suddenly, pulling (Y/n) from her thoughts. She held up a small, carved pendant—a tiny replica of the winter rose, smooth and delicate. “For you.”

(Y/n) blinked, startled. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Nonsense.” The woman pressed it into (Y/n)’s palm, her weathered fingers surprisingly gentle. “It’s a gift. A blessing, of sorts.”

(Y/n) closed her hand around it, the small carving warm from the woman’s touch. “Thank you,” she whispered, the words soft but heartfelt.

The woman nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. “The winter rose blooms when it’s least expected. You’d do well to remember that.”

(Y/n) stared at her for a long moment, something unspoken shifting in her chest.

***

As (Y/n) walked back toward the palace, her fingers brushed over the pendant in her pocket and the flower in the other. The stories she had gathered today weighed on her, pressing against her ribs like something alive.

The royal family carried the soul of this world, she realized. The people saw them not as rulers, but as guardians—as the stewards of something ancient and sacred. And yet, for all their strength, there was fragility in that reverence, a quiet fear that too much weight might cause even the strongest to crumble.

The thought unnerved her, and yet it made her purpose here clearer than ever. She would need to tread carefully—because the stories of Alderia were alive, and they were watching.

****

The morning sun streamed through the high-arched windows of the palace, gilding the stone floors in warm light as (Y/n) walked briskly down the east corridor. Her boots tapped lightly against the polished marble, the sound punctuating the low murmur of palace activity—guards shifting in their stations, the occasional scuff of servant footsteps, the faint clang of dishes being prepared in kitchens beyond the hall. She could smell freshly baked bread mixed with the sharp, clean scent of frost from the gardens beyond, a reminder of the world waiting quietly outside.

Despite the serene grandeur of her surroundings, her mind was far less settled. Her walk through the old town the day before still lingered in her thoughts—every word the locals had shared, every unspoken weight they had carried. The royal family—they carry Alderia’s soul. She had begun to see why, and she couldn’t help but feel a strange kinship with the people who spoke of their rulers with such reverence.

And today, she would meet the eldest of them—the weight bearer himself.

***

(Y/n) stood outside a set of ornate double doors, the dark wood carved with intricate patterns of twisting vines and winter roses. The library she had been ushered to yesterday seemed intimate in comparison. This room felt formal, imposing. A meeting chamber for royalty. She shifted her weight, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her sleeves, before straightening and raising her chin. Whatever she felt—curiosity, unease, determination—would stay locked firmly beneath the polished surface she wore so well.

A soft knock. The doors creaked open.

A steward gestured her forward, his tone courteous but impersonal. “The Crown Prince will meet you now.”

The Crown Prince. Just the title felt like a stone laid upon her chest, as though the man beyond this door was more responsibility than person. (Y/n) stepped inside.

***

The room was enormous, its high ceilings supported by stone pillars that swept upward like trees in an ancient forest. A long table stretched across the center, its surface immaculate save for a neatly arranged pile of star charts and datapads at one end. Pale curtains hung on either side of the tall windows, filtering sunlight until it cast faint gold patterns across the polished floor.

At the far end, near one of the windows, stood Cody.

(Y/n) recognized him instantly—not from photographs, but because he looked exactly as she imagined he would. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with a kind of effortless authority that couldn’t be taught. He wore a high-collared tunic of deep navy and silver, the colors of Alderia, and his hair was neatly cut, though a faint line of stubble softened the sharp angles of his jaw.

He was not handsome in the way of effortless charm, as (Y/n) suspected Rex might be, but there was a gravity about him—something anchored and unyielding, as though he belonged to the very stone of the palace itself.

As she approached, Cody turned, his movements precise, controlled. His gaze landed on her, clear and cool as glass.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” he said. His voice was calm, even polite, but it carried an edge—like a door that wasn’t entirely open. “You’ve come early.”

(Y/n) offered a small, measured smile, hands clasped in front of her. “A good matchmaker learns to value time, Your Highness.”

The faintest flicker of something—perhaps amusement—crossed Cody’s face before it was gone. He nodded to the steward, who gave a bow and silently exited the room, leaving them alone.

“Please.” Cody gestured to a small sitting area by the window where two chairs and a low table waited. “Sit.”

****

(Y/n) took her seat with practiced poise, watching Cody as he moved to sit across from her. He lowered himself into the chair with a sense of measured purpose. It struck her then that everything about him—the way he stood, the way he moved, even the way he sat—was deliberate, as though he had rehearsed every step of his life.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Cody looked at her, not coldly, but with the unblinking focus of someone who was used to examining others. It wasn’t a cruel stare, but it wasn’t kind either. It was… neutral.

“Do you enjoy your room?” he asked finally, the words careful, almost perfunctory.

“Yes, thank you,” (Y/n) replied. “It’s beautiful. I walked the old town yesterday as well. Your planet—your people—are extraordinary.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Cody’s tone was light, but the faintest edge of skepticism brushed against it, as though he were testing her.

(Y/n) smiled faintly, folding her hands in her lap. “I wasn’t looking for anything. I was listening.”

That seemed to catch him off guard, though he hid it well. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing just enough for her to notice. “Listening?”

“Yes.” She kept her voice calm, steady, though she chose each word deliberately. “I find that people tell you the most important things when you listen—not just to what they say, but how they say it.”

“Is that how you work?” Cody asked, his gaze steady. “You listen and decide who fits where?”

There it is. The resistance she had expected, the skepticism carefully veiled behind civility. She leaned forward slightly, holding his gaze. “I don’t decide anything, Your Highness. I find connections. The decision is yours.”

His mouth quirked faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not,” (Y/n) said honestly, letting a hint of warmth into her tone. “But neither is ruling a planet, I imagine.”

For the briefest moment, (Y/n) thought she saw a flicker of something real—a weariness that lived beneath his armor—but it disappeared almost instantly. Cody shifted slightly in his chair, straightening, his posture becoming even more rigid.

“I’ll be candid, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said, his voice cool. “I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

(Y/n) blinked, the words settling like stones in her chest. “I understand. But you must know why I’m here.”

Cody’s jaw tightened faintly, and his gaze drifted to the window. Outside, the light caught on the snowy peaks of the Jolaris Mountains, and for a moment, he seemed far away. “I know why he brought you here,” he murmured. The way he said it—he—was laced with quiet frustration, though there was no disrespect in it.

“The king,” (Y/n) said softly.

“Yes.” Cody’s gaze snapped back to her, sharp and unwavering. “I know my duty. I’ve known it since I was a child. But I have no interest in parading myself for your lists and your calculations.”

(Y/n) felt her throat tighten, though she refused to let it show. Instead, she smiled—gently, without condescension. “I don’t think you are a man who would ever parade himself, Your Highness.”

That caught him again, though he masked it quickly. For a heartbeat, the two of them simply looked at one another, the quiet stretching like a rope pulled taut. Cody was not unkind, nor was he arrogant—but there was a wall around him, thick and unyielding, built from years of expectation.

***

Finally, he stood, smoothing his hand over the edge of his coat. “I’ll cooperate with my grandfather’s wishes,” he said, his tone measured once more. “But don’t expect me to make it easy.”

(Y/n) rose as well, meeting him at eye level, her expression calm but unwavering. “I never expect anything, Your Highness. I observe. And I listen.”

Cody looked at her for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether her words carried sincerity or cleverness. Then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Good day, Miss (Y/L/N).”

With that, he turned, his footsteps firm and deliberate as he strode toward the door. (Y/n) let out a slow breath as the latch clicked shut behind him.

The meeting had not been unkind, but it had left her unsettled. Cody was not a man who would ever allow himself to be easily understood, and yet, beneath his quiet resistance, (Y/n) could feel it: the weight of duty pressing against him like stone.

She looked out the window to the Jolaris peaks, watching the sunlight spill across their icy crowns, and wondered how long even a man like Cody could carry such a burden alone.

****

The meeting with Cody lingered in (Y/n)’s mind like a splinter she couldn’t remove. The prince had been courteous, polite even, but distant in a way that left her feeling like a mere afterthought in his day. There had been no warmth to his words, no openness to his gaze—just walls, high and unyielding, built brick by brick from a lifetime of expectation.  

Still, she couldn’t be angry. How could she? Cody wasn’t dismissive out of cruelty but necessity. Duty had shaped him into a man who wore his responsibility like armor, polished to perfection but heavy to bear. *The weight of a crown isn’t always gold,* she thought, as she let her feet carry her down the wide palace hallways.

The corridor she wandered into now seemed different—quieter, with an air of reverence. The faintest echo of her footsteps traveled down the stone walls, and she slowed her pace, the silence urging her to tread softly. This part of the palace, it seemed, belonged to memories. 

***

Paintings lined the walls, gilded frames glowing faintly in the golden light spilling through tall, arched windows. Each canvas was a piece of history frozen in time—kings and queens of Alderia, some stoic, others kind, their eyes following her as she passed. The faces seemed alive, as though they were watching her closely, curious about this stranger who dared walk their halls.

(Y/n) stopped in front of one particular painting. It was a portrait of a young man with blue-gray eyes and a confident, roguish smile. His dark hair was swept back in a way that suggested he hadn’t cared too much for formality. He wore a prince’s coat—rich navy blue, lined with silver—but the way he slouched just slightly told her that the man beneath the clothes had been carefree.  

“Jango,” she whispered under her breath, as though the name might summon the man himself. It had to be him; the resemblance to the current princes was unmistakable.  

Her gaze softened as she took in every detail of the painting, from the hint of mischief in Jango’s smirk to the worn edge of a leather glove on his left hand. *A man who was never meant to be still,* she thought, *and yet here he is.* She wondered how much of him remained in his sons—how much of that fire had been inherited.

She sighed softly, feeling that familiar knot of responsibility tug at her chest. This family, this planet—it was all so much larger than what she could see. And yet here she was, standing in the middle of it.

“Admiring the handsome ones, are we?”

***

The voice broke through the quiet like a spark, warm and teasing, startling (Y/n) just enough that she turned sharply, her breath catching in her throat.  

There, leaning lazily against the stone archway she’d just passed, was **Rex**.  

For a moment, (Y/n) could only blink, as though the man before her had been conjured straight from the painting. He looked startlingly like Jango, though his face was less polished—his jaw was scruffed with golden stubble, and his blond hair was unruly, strands falling stubbornly over his forehead. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, as though the weight of the world that sat so heavily on Cody’s shoulders didn’t exist here. 

And then there were his eyes—blue-gray like a stormy sea, alive with something (Y/n) couldn’t name.  

“Forgive me,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping into the light filtering through the window. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your staring contest.”  

(Y/n) found her voice, though it came out more measured than she intended. “I wasn’t staring. I was… observing.”

The corner of Rex’s mouth quirked upward in a half-smile, one brow arching in obvious amusement. “Observation looks a lot like admiration from where I’m standing.”

(Y/n)’s lips pressed together, though she couldn’t help the hint of color that warmed her cheeks. “And you are…?”

He grinned wider at that, as though enjoying her reaction. “I’m Rex,” he said simply, inclining his head in a mock bow. “Second-born spare to the throne of Alderia, expert at sneaking out of meetings I don’t want to attend, and—apparently—the cause of your current blush.”

(Y/n) straightened, smoothing her hands over her cloak as though brushing away the fluster she felt bubbling beneath her calm exterior. “I wasn’t blushing.”

“You’re blushing now,” Rex said, his tone teasing but gentle, his gaze lingering on her face as though he were memorizing it.  

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, regaining her composure. “And I wasn’t staring at you either. I was looking at the painting.”

“Of my father.” Rex’s voice softened just slightly at the mention of Jango, his teasing tone taking on something quieter. (Y/n) glanced up, noticing the way his gaze flicked briefly to the portrait behind her, his smile dimming ever so slightly.  

“Yes,” she said softly. “He seems… remarkable.” 

Rex’s gaze lingered on the painting a moment longer before he looked back at her, his smile returning, though this time it carried something softer—something real. “He was.”

There was a pause—long enough for (Y/n) to feel the air shift between them, subtle but certain. She hadn’t expected this—a meeting so unguarded, so unexpectedly *personal.* For all Rex’s casual charm, there was something in his eyes that she recognized: a quiet depth, a place where lightness gave way to something unspoken.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Rex said finally, breaking the moment but not the connection. “You’re not palace staff, and you don’t look like one of Cody’s political friends.” He tilted his head, curiosity shining through. “Who are you?”

(Y/n) hesitated, feeling that this moment—this first impression—was delicate. It was rare to meet someone who didn’t immediately view her as *the matchmaker*. Rare to meet someone who simply saw her.

“My name is (Y/n) (Y/L/N),” she said carefully, holding his gaze. “And you’re right—I’m not political. I’ve been brought here to… assist.”  

“With what?”

“Your brother.”  

Something flickered across Rex’s face—surprise first, then understanding. His grin returned, slow and unmistakable. “Ah, so you’re the *matchmaker.*”  

The word sat between them, heavy and familiar, but Rex said it without mockery. If anything, there was a hint of intrigue in his tone, as though she’d just become far more interesting.  

(Y/n) nodded, though her expression stayed composed. “I am.”

Rex crossed his arms loosely, one brow arching again. “And how’s that going for you so far?”

(Y/n) allowed herself a small smile, though her thoughts returned to her meeting with Cody—the walls, the formality. “It’s… early.”

Rex chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, as though she’d said something funny without intending to. “That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.”  

“You didn’t have to.” He grinned again, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Cody’s about as easy to talk to as a stone wall, but you’ll get used to him. He’s a good man under all that steel.”

(Y/n) felt a faint tug at the corner of her mouth. “You say that like you’re nothing like him.”

“I’m not,” Rex said with a shrug. “At least, not on the surface.”  

The way he said it made her pause. It was casual, dismissive almost, but (Y/n) could feel the truth woven into it. For all his lightness, for all his charm, there were pieces of Rex that ran far deeper than he let on.

***

Silence settled between them again—not awkward, not tense, but *there*. (Y/n) felt it in her chest, a kind of awareness she couldn’t explain. She studied Rex’s face as though searching for something unspoken, and for a moment, she thought he might be looking for the same in her.  

“Well,” Rex said finally, breaking the quiet with a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll let you get back to observing things that aren’t me.”  

(Y/n) rolled her eyes softly, though her smile lingered. “Thank you for your generosity.”

“Anytime.” Rex took a step back, but his gaze lingered on her, his expression thoughtful in a way she hadn’t expected. Then, with a slight nod, he turned and disappeared around the corner, his footsteps soft but steady.

***

(Y/n) let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her gaze drifted back to Jango’s painting, but the man in the portrait felt less like the focus now.  

Instead, it was Rex’s face—his grin, his eyes, the way he looked at her like he’d seen something worth remembering—that stayed with her.

And for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt something shift within herself, subtle but certain—like the first flake of snow before a storm.  

***

### **The Ballroom of Invitations**

The sun dipped low in the Alderian sky, pouring golden light through the palace’s tall, arched windows. (Y/n) sat at a wide desk positioned in one of the palace’s grand halls, a makeshift workspace surrounded by towering shelves of tomes and thick velvet drapes. The room itself had been transformed under her hands: holoscreens hovered in mid-air, glowing softly as they displayed dossiers, planetary maps, and cultural breakdowns. A meticulous array of datapads sat in perfect order on the desk, alongside a steaming cup of tea now long forgotten.

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly as she glanced over her list, her stylus tapping rhythmically against the desk. The names, their titles, their descriptions—it was all beginning to blur together, but she couldn’t afford to overlook even the smallest detail.  

The day had been relentless. Invitations had to be sent across Alderia and beyond: noble daughters from the sprawling estates in the Naldorian Reach, princesses from neighboring systems, and heirs from dignified lineages in far-off star clusters. She’d read through their profiles, cross-referenced family reputations, and considered how they might fit into Alderia’s unspoken rhythm. She had no intention of bringing anyone here who couldn’t understand this place—this *weight.*  

And yet, as she set down the stylus and pressed her fingers to her temples, exhaustion began to settle into her shoulders. The names were only words on a page, and despite her experience—despite her confidence in her ability—she felt a strange unease. *How do you find someone to fit a man like Cody,* she wondered, *when the walls around him are stronger than steel?*  

The room’s silence was punctuated only by the occasional hiss of a hovering holo shutting itself down as she dismissed the final dossier for the day. Satisfied, she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, the last light of day painting the room in fiery hues of orange and gold. She had done her part. Tomorrow, the nobles and dignitaries would begin arriving, and the task of introductions would begin.  

The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps cut through the quiet.

(Y/n) turned instinctively, her hand lowering from her face as a familiar voice echoed across the marble floor.  

“Well, would you look at this,” Rex drawled, his tone light, teasing, but edged with something more curious. “I thought this was the ballroom. Turns out it’s just the nerve center of a galactic operation.” 

(Y/n) sighed softly, though she couldn’t help the faint tug of a smile at the corner of her lips as Rex stepped further into the room. He wasn’t wearing the finely tailored uniform she’d seen on him yesterday. Instead, he wore something softer—a loose navy tunic rolled at the sleeves and dark trousers, an outfit that made him look far less like a prince and far more like a man at ease with himself. His golden hair was still a mess, as though he’d run his fingers through it carelessly, and his ever-present half-smile suggested that he was always on the brink of mischief.  

“Shouldn’t you be doing something more important?” (Y/n) asked, leaning back slightly as Rex perched himself on the edge of a nearby table, completely unbothered by the papers and datapads spread across its surface.

“I could ask you the same question,” he countered, tilting his head. His gaze lingered briefly on the organized chaos of her work before settling back on her face, sharp and curious. “But judging by all of *this,*” he gestured vaguely to the glowing holoscreens, “it seems you’ve already taken over half the palace.”  

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, though her smile lingered. “It’s called preparation. You should try it sometime.”

“Preparation,” Rex repeated, as though testing the word, before shaking his head with a grin. “I prefer improvisation. It’s more fun.”

“I’m sure your tutors loved that.”

“Oh, they adored me,” he replied, his tone deadpan but his grin widening when (Y/n) huffed a soft laugh. “I was their favorite.” 

“Of course you were,” (Y/n) murmured, shaking her head as she began to straighten a few of the datapads before her. She felt Rex watching her, though not in a way that unsettled her. It wasn’t the kind of assessing gaze she had encountered so many times before—calculating, cold, expecting something of her. No, Rex’s gaze was warm, curious, as though he was looking for something *real* in her.  

“You’ve been working all day, haven’t you?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer this time. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone push this hard since Cody spent a month reorganizing the kingdom’s census data.”

(Y/n) paused, her fingers brushing over the edge of a datapad as she glanced up at him. “It’s important work.”

“I’m sure it is,” Rex replied, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “But it’s also going to be here tomorrow, and the day after that. You, on the other hand, look like you could use a break.”

(Y/n) arched a brow, though her voice remained measured. “And I suppose you’re here to offer one?”

“Exactly.” Rex pushed himself off the table with the easy grace of someone who had never felt out of place in his own skin. “Consider me your palace guide.”

“My *what?*”

“Palace guide,” he repeated, as though the term were perfectly obvious. “You know, someone to show you all the things you’re missing while you’re busy playing matchmaker.” He grinned as he stepped closer, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets. “You’ve seen the ballroom. You’ve seen the library. But have you seen the royal snowball arsenal?”  

(Y/n) blinked. “The what?”

“You heard me,” he said, his grin widening as though he enjoyed her confusion. “It’s top-secret, of course. State-of-the-art construction, unparalleled in firepower. Only the bravest souls dare wield its might.”

(Y/n) stared at him, torn between disbelief and amusement. “You’re joking.”

“I’m *serious*,” Rex replied, his voice low and dramatic, though his eyes sparkled with laughter. “It’s a critical part of the palace defenses during winter. You never know when an ambush might occur.”

Against her better judgment, (Y/n) felt a laugh bubble in her chest—a soft, genuine sound that startled her as much as it seemed to please Rex. “I highly doubt that’s on the palace schematics.”

“That’s because I built it myself,” he said proudly, before extending a hand toward her. “Come on. I’m not letting you spend another minute in here surrounded by datapads and dead nobles.”  

(Y/n) hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and her work. For a moment, she considered refusing. There were still messages to send, details to finalize, and she didn’t have the luxury of—  

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rex said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s just a walk. A little break from the world you’re trying to fix.”

His words settled in her chest, and suddenly, the decision didn’t seem quite so difficult. Slowly, she pushed herself up from her chair and smoothed her cloak, trying not to let him see the small smile pulling at her lips.  

“All right,” she said finally, meeting his gaze. “But if this so-called arsenal doesn’t exist—”

“You’ll never trust me again,” Rex finished with a grin, his voice warm and teasing as he gestured for her to follow. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

(Y/n) shook her head softly, though there was no hiding the faint amusement tugging at her mouth as she followed him toward the hallway.  

She didn’t know what it was about him—this prince who didn’t act like a prince—that unsettled her in ways she couldn’t explain. There was something light about him, as though he carried the weight of the world differently than anyone she had ever met. He made her forget, for just a moment, the impossible task waiting for her tomorrow.

(Y/n) walked alongside Rex through the winding palace halls, her footsteps quick as she tried to match his longer strides. There was something carefree about him, a quiet confidence that made her feel both at ease and on edge all at once. The grandness of the palace around them seemed less imposing with him beside her, the cold stone softened by his lighthearted presence.

“You didn’t tell me where we’re going,” (Y/n) said after a moment, her voice holding a note of suspicion.

Rex turned to glance at her, his mouth quirking upward into a playful smile. “I thought I did. The royal snowball arsenal.”

(Y/n) sighed, though it wasn’t an exasperated sound so much as it was one of reluctant amusement. “You do realize I don’t believe a word of this, right?”

“Trust me, it’s real,” Rex said, his tone mock-serious as they passed yet another corridor. “But before we get there, we have to pass through… enemy territory.”

“Enemy territory?”

Rex’s eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief as they turned a corner into a long, airy hallway. Sunlight streamed in through wide windows, catching the frost-rimmed edges of the glass. Tapestries swayed slightly as cold drafts snuck in through unseen cracks. Something in the air felt... alive.  

(Y/n) slowed slightly, her gaze shifting warily from side to side. “What do you mean by—”

The words hadn’t fully left her mouth before a snowball, perfectly round and startlingly fast, flew from nowhere and hit Rex square in the shoulder.  

“Ambush!” Rex shouted dramatically, staggering back with a hand pressed to his chest as though mortally wounded. “(Y/n)! They’ve got me!”

(Y/n) blinked, wide-eyed, before another snowball arced toward her. She barely managed to duck in time, her heart skipping a beat as it smacked into the wall with a dull thud.  

“Oh, no,” Rex groaned, still clutching his chest in exaggerated agony. “It’s worse than I thought. The twins are here.”

“The what—”

“Boys!” Rex suddenly shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. “This is treason! You’re attacking a guest of the palace!”

Laughter, wild and unrepentant, rang out from somewhere above. (Y/n) tilted her head back, searching for its source, and spotted two identical faces peering down from a narrow ledge built into the wall near the ceiling. Both grins were identical—a mix of childlike glee and calculated mischief that only the truly confident could pull off.

“*Treason*?” one of them called back, his voice rich with laughter. “Oh, come now, Rex. That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Only *you* would call it dramatic, Fives,” Rex muttered, brushing snow from his shoulder with a sigh.  

The other twin elbowed his brother lightly, smirking down at (Y/n). “You’re missing the important detail. Who’s this, Rex? She looks… suspiciously dignified for your company.”

(Y/n), who had been frozen in surprise, blinked at the pair of them. They were younger than Rex, perhaps early twenties, with sharp features softened by their shared mischief. Where Rex had golden-blond hair, theirs was a darker shade, more brown with hints of copper that caught the light. And though they were identical in face and voice, there was something subtly different about the way they carried themselves—Fives, the louder of the two, had a sharper edge to his grin, while the other, Echo, watched her with an assessing curiosity that didn’t quite match his brother’s antics.

“I’m (Y/n),” she said finally, brushing a stray snowflake off her coat. “The… matchmaker.”

The twins froze for half a second before Fives barked out a laugh. “The *what*?”

“You heard her,” Rex cut in dryly, crossing his arms as he looked up at them. “She’s here to find Cody the perfect bride.”

Fives groaned dramatically, flopping forward over the ledge so that his arms dangled down. “Poor Cody. He’ll have to practice smiling again.”

Echo shoved Fives’ shoulder, though he smirked faintly. “Ignore him. You’ll find he has a unique talent for talking nonsense.” 

“Unique *and* unmatched,” Fives added smugly, pushing himself upright. “Now, (Y/n)—did Rex tell you about the snowball arsenal? Because you’re standing in it.”

(Y/n) turned sharply to Rex, raising an eyebrow. “This is the arsenal?”

Rex shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Technically, it’s their arsenal. I just like to call it mine.”

Before (Y/n) could respond, Fives lobbed another snowball down, this time aiming for Rex’s head. Rex sidestepped smoothly, the snowball smacking harmlessly into the floor with a wet splat.  

“*Missed.*” Rex smirked, shaking his head as though deeply disappointed.  

“Coward,” Fives retorted. “You’ll have to come up here and fight us properly!”

Echo leaned over the edge, his sharp gaze landing on (Y/n) again. “Unless you’d like to join our side, Miss Matchmaker. Rex tends to lose these battles.”  

(Y/n) looked from one twin to the other, still processing the absurdity of the situation. Here she was, standing in a centuries-old palace, being ambushed by two grown men who looked as though they’d never left their boyhood antics behind. Yet instead of annoyance, she felt the laughter bubbling inside her again—unexpected, uncontrollable.

“This…” she said slowly, unable to stop the smile pulling at her lips, “might be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Fives grinned triumphantly. “And the most fun, I bet.”

Rex sighed, though (Y/n) saw the way his own mouth twitched with the effort to suppress a smile. “Congratulations,” he called up to them, his voice dry. “You’ve scared away the matchmaker. Now she’ll run back to the library and tell Cody he’s doomed.”

“Oh, we *like* her,” Fives said, nudging Echo. “She’ll fit in perfectly.”

Echo nodded once, his expression calm but his eyes glinting with mischief. “Be careful, Miss (Y/n). Rex has a habit of pulling people into trouble.”

(Y/n) glanced at Rex, who was now watching her with his arms still crossed, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so?”

“Don’t listen to them,” Rex said smoothly. “They’re just jealous because I’m taller.”

Fives’ outraged “*What?!*” was followed immediately by Echo’s bark of laughter, but (Y/n) didn’t hear it. Her gaze was still on Rex, who was watching her in that same way he had in the hallway the day before—curious, almost searching. It made her stomach flip, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Come on,” Rex said after a beat, offering her his arm as though nothing had happened. “Let’s get out of the line of fire before they bring in reinforcements.”

(Y/n) hesitated for only a second before slipping her hand through his arm. The action felt natural, though it startled her how *easy* it was to be around him.  

“They’re not what I expected,” she murmured as they walked away, the twins’ laughter echoing behind them.

Rex chuckled softly. “They never are.”

(Y/n) glanced up at him, her smile softening. “And what about you, Rex? Are you what people expect?”

Rex looked down at her, his grin faltering for just a moment before returning—softer this time, but not insincere. “Depends on who’s asking.”

(Y/n) said nothing to that, though her hand lingered on his arm a little longer than it needed to.

And neither of them noticed the twins watching from above, their eyes sharp and knowing as they disappeared back into their hiding place.

****

The days fell into an intricate rhythm, one that (Y/n) hadn’t anticipated but found herself adapting to with startling ease. The weight of her work—the lists, the arrangements, the schedules—had grown heavier as the reality of what lay ahead came into sharper focus. In four weeks, the palace would host the grand Christmas ball. The event wasn’t just a glittering celebration; it was a turning point, a moment where the crown prince of Alderia would dance with his possible future bride.

(Y/n) had reviewed the guest list over and over again—princesses, noblewomen, heirs from far-reaching systems. Their faces were etched into her memory, their histories neatly filed away in her mind. Soon, she would meet them in person, would usher them into carefully curated sessions designed to test compatibility, poise, and connection. It was the kind of meticulous work she was accustomed to, the kind that required focus, control, and precision.

But her carefully structured days were being sabotaged. And it was entirely Rex’s fault.

***

(Y/n) leaned over her desk, a furrow creasing her brow as she moved small holocards into neat rows. Each card bore the name of a potential candidate, along with her respective lineage, planetary origin, and other relevant details. The sunlight streaming through the wide window nearby highlighted her deliberate movements—the press of her fingertip against the hovering cards, the slow nod as she considered placements.

“Focused, aren’t we?”

(Y/n) jumped, the voice pulling her sharply out of her thoughts. She turned to find Rex leaning casually in the doorway, arms crossed, his grin unabashed. He was dressed in another simple tunic, this one the color of deep wine, his sleeves pushed up as if to deliberately resist the palace’s insistence on formality. His blond hair was as unruly as ever, as though he’d ridden through a windstorm and hadn’t bothered to fix it.  

“Rex,” (Y/n) sighed, straightening slowly as she tried to school her expression into one of neutrality. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to watch you mumble to yourself about someone named Lady Arla and decide that you need rescuing.” He pushed off the doorway, his boots making a soft sound against the marble floor as he approached.

“I don’t need rescuing.” (Y/n) turned back to her holocards, pretending to be entirely unfazed. “I’m working. You should try it sometime.”

He gave a mock gasp of offense, pressing a hand to his chest as though wounded. “I *do* work. I’m a vital member of this palace.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, though a smile threatened to tug at her lips. “Vital for causing chaos, perhaps.”

“Ah, you *do* see my value,” Rex said, grinning as he stepped closer to her desk and leaned forward, peering at the hovering cards with mock interest. “Who’s this? Lady Talia of Serenno?” He prodded at one of the holos, tilting his head. “She looks very… composed.”

“Rex,” (Y/n) warned, though her voice lacked any real bite. She reached to swipe his hand away, but he was faster, sliding the card to the side like a mischievous child.  

“Do you know what you need?” Rex asked, straightening up and turning to face her. His blue-gray eyes gleamed with a spark that made her wary. “A break.”

“I don’t have time for a break,” (Y/n) replied firmly, her hand hovering mid-air as she tried to re-organize the cards. “The Christmas ball is in four weeks, and everything must be perfect.”

“Perfect can wait an afternoon,” he shot back easily, moving to stand between her and her work. “And besides, you’ll work better if you clear your head. I’m taking you to the royal sledding races.”

(Y/n) blinked at him, confused. “The what?”

“Sledding races,” Rex repeated, grinning like a man who had already won. “It’s tradition. Every year around Christmas, we—meaning me, the twins, Jesse, and occasionally Cody—risk life and limb to see who can hurtle themselves down a hill of packed snow the fastest.”

“That doesn’t sound like a royal tradition,” (Y/n) said dryly, folding her arms.

“It’s *our* tradition,” Rex countered, his grin softening slightly. “It started when we were boys, back when Grandfather let us run wild in the snow. Now, it’s a matter of pride.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“You’re coming,” Rex said simply. “As my sledding partner.”

(Y/n) gave him a look. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Rex leaned closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “If you say yes, I promise to leave your work alone for the rest of the day.”

(Y/n) hesitated, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. “The rest of the *day*?”

Rex held up his hands, mock-serious. “Scout’s honor.”

(Y/n) sighed, her resolve softening under the sheer weight of his persistence. “Fine. But if I fall off whatever contraption you’re calling a sled, I’ll blame you.”

“Deal,” Rex said cheerfully, already turning toward the door. “Come on, matchmaker. We’ve got a hill to conquer.”

***

The cold hit her first. Crisp and sharp, it nipped at (Y/n)’s cheeks and nose as Rex led her outside onto the sprawling palace grounds. Snow blanketed everything—thick, pristine, and sparkling under the pale light of the Alderian sun. The gardens, so carefully tended, had transformed into a winter wonderland, their fountains frozen into sculptures of ice.

In the distance, (Y/n) spotted a wide hill sloping down toward the forest edge. Its surface had been packed down and smoothed by use, with a handful of sleds—sleek wooden contraptions reinforced with metal runners—lined up at its crest.

Rex led her up the hill, his boots crunching rhythmically through the snow. “All right,” he said once they reached the top, turning to gesture grandly at the sleds. “Behold the crown jewel of Alderian winter sports.”

(Y/n) glanced down the slope and felt her stomach drop. “That looks… steep.”

“Steep makes it fun.” Rex grinned, grabbing one of the sleds and dragging it closer. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“Trust you?” (Y/n) asked skeptically, though there was no real resistance in her voice. “That’s asking a lot.”

Rex’s expression softened, though his grin didn’t fade entirely. “You’ll see.”

Before (Y/n) could respond, a shout echoed up from the base of the hill. She turned to see **Fives and Echo** standing in the snow, already halfway down the slope, waving up at them with wild enthusiasm.  

“You’re late, Rex!” Fives called, his voice carrying easily across the open air. “We’ve already claimed victory!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Rex called back, grinning as he crouched to position the sled. He looked up at (Y/n), extending a hand toward her. “Come on. I’ll steer.”

(Y/n) hesitated, the wind tugging gently at her cloak as she stared at him. There was something in his eyes—something warm, inviting, and completely unguarded—that made it impossible to say no. With a small sigh, she knelt beside him and carefully settled onto the sled, clutching the edge with both hands.

Rex leaned closer, his voice low in her ear. “Hold on tight.”

She barely had time to process the words before the sled lurched forward, the runners gliding smoothly against the packed snow. The wind roared past her ears as they gained speed, the world blurring into a rush of white and blue. (Y/n)’s heart leapt into her throat, and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe.

Then—she laughed.

It bubbled out of her, wild and breathless, a sound that surprised even her as it mingled with Rex’s whoop of triumph. Snow sprayed up around them as the sled tore down the hill, the cold biting at her skin, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, she felt *alive*—as though all the weight she carried had been lifted and scattered to the wind.

At the bottom of the hill, Fives and Echo were waiting, already in the midst of building an impromptu snow barricade. (Y/n) stumbled off the sled, breathless, her cheeks flushed from laughter and cold. Rex stood beside her, grinning, his blond hair dusted with snow.

“You’re smiling,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone.

(Y/n) blinked up at him, surprised. “I suppose I am.”

High above them, standing at one of the palace windows, **Cody** watched the scene unfold. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, but his expression was no longer guarded. A faint smile played at the edges of his mouth, his gaze lingering on Rex and (Y/n) as they laughed in the snow. He said nothing, but there was an understanding in his eyes—a quiet recognition of something beginning to bloom.  

He turned away from the window and walked back into the shadows of the palace, his thoughts unspoken, his smile lingering.

Outside, (Y/n) brushed snow from her coat, still breathless as Rex grinned down at her.  

“Ready for another run?” he asked.

(Y/n) shook her head, though her smile remained. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Rex replied, his gaze softening, “here you are.”

Neither of them noticed the way the sun, low on the horizon, painted the snow gold—its light casting long shadows as the day slowly slipped toward evening.

***

The palace was quieter now, its wide corridors muffled by the weight of the morning’s efforts. (Y/n) sat at the far end of the grand dining hall, a quiet corner where no one had yet noticed her absence. The rest of the room still hummed with quiet conversation, the noblewomen and visiting princesses seated in neat rows of polished chairs, sipping delicately at their drinks and speaking in hushed tones that bordered on polite gossip.

Twenty introductions. Twenty carefully planned moments meant to foster connection, ease, and grace.

(Y/n) let out a slow, exhausted breath, her fingertips tracing absent patterns on the linen tablecloth before her. It didn’t go as planned.

It wasn’t a complete disaster, but there were cracks—cracks she hadn’t anticipated. Cody had been polite, almost flawlessly so, but polite wasn’t enough. Politeness lacked warmth. It lacked connection. He had stood stiffly in place like a soldier on parade, greeting each woman with the faintest smile, his words measured and impersonal. He hadn’t engaged, not really, and though none of the women had dared say so aloud, (Y/n) could feel it in their subtle glances and hesitant smiles.

It had been like watching dancers out of step with the music—each one lovely and perfect on their own, but unable to move as one.

And the blame, (Y/n) decided, sat squarely on her shoulders.

You’re supposed to be the best, her mind whispered accusingly. This is what you do. You don’t fail.

She sighed again, rolling her shoulders as though trying to shake off the weight pressing against them. Her tea had gone cold hours ago, and her appetite was nowhere to be found. She stared blankly out the wide windows to her left, where sunlight spilled in golden shafts across the far mountains.

“Are you hiding, or do you just like brooding in corners?”

(Y/n)’s head snapped up, startled by the sudden voice cutting through her thoughts. Rex stood at the edge of the table, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, that ever-present spark of mischief in his eyes. He tilted his head as he regarded her, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles.

“I’m not hiding,” (Y/n) said defensively, sitting up straighter and smoothing her hands over her skirt. “And I certainly don’t brood.”

“Ah.” Rex nodded thoughtfully as though he didn’t believe a word of it. “That explains the tragic sighing and staring dramatically into the middle distance. Very dignified.”

“Rex…” (Y/n) began, but he cut her off by sliding into the chair across from her without waiting for an invitation.

“Let me guess,” he said, leaning back with an almost lazy confidence. “The meetings didn’t go well.”

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes at him, though there was no real heat behind it. “You weren’t even there.”

“I didn’t have to be.” Rex shrugged, his gaze lingering on her face, softer now, more observant. “You’re sitting here with the same look Cody wears after reading a hundred tax reports. That’s a bad sign.”

(Y/n) let out a quiet, reluctant laugh—short and breathless—but it was enough to ease some of the tightness in her chest. “It wasn’t a disaster,” she admitted, folding her arms on the table, “but it didn’t go the way I’d hoped.”

Rex’s smile dimmed slightly as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “Let me guess,” he said, his voice gentler now, though the teasing lilt hadn’t fully left. “Cody was… Cody.”

(Y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Polite but distant. He treated the entire process like a military inspection.”

“Sounds about right.” Rex sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Don’t take it personally. Cody’s not great at being himself in rooms full of strangers.”

(Y/n) looked at him curiously. “And what is he like when he is himself?”

Rex paused, his expression thoughtful as though he hadn’t quite expected the question. “Quiet,” he said after a moment. “Steady. He’s the man you want beside you in a storm because he’ll never waver. But he keeps his heart close to the chest. Too close, sometimes.”

(Y/n) tilted her head, her fingers toying with the edge of the tablecloth. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she murmured softly, almost to herself. “That he won’t let anyone in.”

Rex studied her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as though seeing her more clearly than she’d like. “You care,” he said finally, the words quiet but certain.

(Y/n) blinked, caught off guard. “Of course I care. It’s my job.”

“No,” Rex said softly, shaking his head. “It’s more than that.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to protest, but Rex was already standing, his chair scraping softly against the floor. “Come on.”

She frowned up at him. “Come on where?”

“You need cheering up,” Rex replied matter-of-factly, as though that explained everything. “And I’ve got just the thing.”

“Rex, I have work—”

“Your work will still be here when you get back.” He held out a hand to her, his grin returning, though there was something warm and steady about it now. “Trust me.”

(Y/n) stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, torn between the pull of her responsibilities and the spark of curiosity he always managed to ignite in her. Finally, with a quiet sigh, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

“You’re relentless,” she muttered as he led her out of the dining hall.

“You’ll thank me later,” Rex replied confidently.

***

Rex led her outside the palace and down a narrow, snow-dusted stone path that wound between tall hedges and towering fir trees. The air was sharp and clear, carrying the faint, distant sound of bells—somewhere, far off, the palace staff were likely preparing for the holidays.

(Y/n) let herself be guided, her curiosity mounting with every step. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Rex said, glancing back at her with that mischievous glint in his eye that she was beginning to recognize all too well.

Finally, they emerged into an open space—a secluded garden tucked into a hollow beside the palace walls. (Y/n) stopped in her tracks, her breath catching softly in her chest.

The garden was alive with light. The snow-covered hedges had been strung with soft golden lanterns that glowed like captured stars, and beneath them, scattered throughout the frost-touched earth, grew winter roses. Their petals were pale white tinged with the faintest blush of pink, each bloom seeming almost unreal against the snow.

(Y/n) stepped forward slowly, the sound of her boots muffled by the thick powder. She knelt beside one of the flowers, brushing her fingers delicately against its petals. It was soft—unexpectedly so—and still warm with life despite the frost surrounding it.

“You don’t often see these,” Rex said quietly, standing just behind her. “They only bloom when the nights are cold and the moons hang low. They say the winter rose can survive where nothing else can.”

(Y/n) glanced back at him, her voice soft. “It’s beautiful.”

Rex watched her closely, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I thought you’d like it.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full—filled with something unspoken, something that hummed softly beneath the surface like the slow bloom of a winter rose.

“You brought me here to see this?” (Y/n) finally asked, turning fully to face him.

Rex shrugged, though his grin was gentler now, his gaze steady. “You’ve spent all day carrying the weight of the palace on your shoulders. I figured you deserved something beautiful.”

(Y/n) stared at him, her heart skipping in a way that made her uneasy. She had known men who could speak in charm alone, but Rex… he said things as though he meant them, as though his words carried weight he didn’t expect her to see.

“Thank you,” she said softly, the words feeling small but sincere.

Rex held her gaze for another long moment before grinning again, the familiar glint returning to his eyes. “Come on. There’s a fire pit at the far end of the garden. I’ll even let you warm your hands while I find some spiced cider.”

(Y/n) shook her head with a quiet laugh, following him as he turned. But as they walked deeper into the glow of the lanterns, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—softly, quietly, like snow falling in the night.

And for once, she didn’t mind it at all.

***

From a window high in one of the palace towers, Cody stood in silence, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. The firelight from within the room barely reached him, leaving him half in shadow, but he didn’t need light to see what unfolded below.

The garden glowed softly, a golden pocket of warmth against the snow-covered grounds, and in its center, he spotted them. Rex and (Y/n).

Cody’s gaze lingered on them—on the way Rex turned back slightly to check that (Y/n) was following, on the faint laugh that drifted up, too soft to fully reach him but audible enough to let him imagine its sound. Rex had that look about him again—the kind of light in his eyes Cody hadn’t seen in years, not since they were children racing sleds down the hills without a care in the world.

(Y/n) walked beside him, her posture softer than Cody had ever seen it. Her usual composure, her air of determination and restraint, had given way to something quieter—something more… real.

Cody’s lips curved into the faintest smile, though it was tinged with something deeper, something thoughtful. His brother had always had a way of finding light in unexpected places, of dragging it with him like a spark through darkness.

And (Y/n)? Well, she had been so consumed by her careful plans—her lists and responsibilities—that Cody doubted she’d allowed herself to breathe in years.

As he watched them disappear deeper into the garden, the lantern light dappling across their figures like scattered starlight, Cody shook his head faintly to himself.

“Rex…” he murmured under his breath, though there was no reprimand in the word. Only quiet acknowledgment.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he turned from the window, the shadows swallowing him again as he walked back toward the heart of the palace.

Perhaps, he thought, the best things in life weren’t meant to be planned.

For all the planning, for all the meticulous work (Y/n) had done, perhaps the one thing she hadn’t planned for was the thing that mattered most.

Unexpected love.

Cody’s smile lingered as he turned away from the window, leaving the scene below to play out as it would.

***

In the solitude of the west tower, beyond the hustle of the palace’s daily movements, **King Jaster** stood by a wide, arched window, the heavy velvet drapes drawn back to allow the fading light of dusk to stream in. The winter air carried a hush outside, as though the world itself had paused to listen.

He said nothing at first, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at the glowing garden below. The lanterns illuminated the space with a soft, golden warmth, their light dancing across the snow and reflecting off the pale petals of the winter roses. In the center of the glow, two figures moved slowly—Rex, with his easy, unhurried strides, and (Y/n), following with a quiet grace.  

There was laughter down there. Jaster couldn’t hear it, but he could see it—Rex turning to speak, (Y/n) tilting her head back just slightly, her lips forming a smile that softened her entire demeanor. The boy had that gleam again, the light he’d carried as a child when his feet ran faster than he could keep up with, when his laughter filled the palace halls and made it feel alive.  

“Hmm,” came the low murmur of a familiar voice from behind him. “Young Rex… cheerful, he is. Bright, the boy shines.”  

Jaster didn’t turn as Yoda stepped up beside him, his short stature meaning his head just barely reached the bottom of the windowsill. The old advisor, gnarled and wise, had been at Jaster’s side for as long as he could remember. Through wars and peace, through grief and recovery, Yoda had been an anchor—his quiet words carrying more weight than all the councils in the galaxy combined.  

“He’s happy,” Jaster said softly, his deep voice quieter than usual, as though afraid to disturb the moment below. “I haven’t seen him like this in years.”

“Long has it been,” Yoda replied, his tone calm but edged with knowing. “The burdens they carry, heavier than they should be. All of them. Cody, Rex… the twins… Jesse.”  

Jaster inclined his head faintly, his gaze not wavering from the scene below. “Too heavy.”  

Yoda’s ears flicked slightly as he looked up at the king, his ancient green face unreadable but his eyes sharp and knowing. “Hm. Yet, warmth finds them. The unexpected blooms when left untended.” He tilted his head toward the window, gesturing faintly with one clawed hand. “Like the winter rose.”

Jaster turned slightly at that, his weathered brow furrowing. “What are you saying?”

“Observe them, did you not?” Yoda murmured, his tone faintly teasing as his wise eyes twinkled in the dim light. “A flame burns there, quiet but certain. Like moonlight on snow.”

Jaster looked back at the garden, his sharp blue gaze lingering on his grandson and the woman who walked beside him. He watched the way Rex looked at her—an unguarded glance, fleeting but honest. The way (Y/n)’s shoulders had relaxed, as though for the first time, the weight of her purpose had been temporarily lifted.  

“You think…” Jaster began, trailing off before the words could leave him fully.  

“Think? Hmm.” Yoda chuckled softly, a sound like wind rustling through dry leaves. “Know, I do not. But hope? Ah, yes.” He gave a small nod, his voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur. “Hope can grow where nothing else will.”

Jaster said nothing for a long moment, his weathered face thoughtful as the firelight from the lanterns below danced faintly in his eyes. He had known love—had held it in his hands, in his family, and had watched it be torn away too soon. For years now, the palace had carried shadows, held together by duty and resolve. And yet…  

As Rex and (Y/n) disappeared further into the garden, their figures framed by golden light and snow-dusted roses, Jaster felt something shift—a tiny crack in the stone walls built around them all.

“Perhaps,” Jaster said finally, his voice low, as though admitting it to himself more than to Yoda, “the galaxy hasn’t taken everything from us yet.”  

“Hm.” Yoda tilted his head knowingly. “Faith, my friend. When least expected, life always finds a way.”

Jaster looked down at the old Jedi, his lips quirking faintly—just the smallest hint of a smile. “You always say that.”

“And right, I always am.” Yoda’s shoulders lifted in what might have been a shrug, his expression as wry as ever.  

Jaster let out a low, thoughtful hum, his gaze drifting back to the window. The lanterns in the garden glowed against the darkening sky, a pocket of warmth and light in the cold. And below, unseen by the rest of the world, something fragile and precious had begun to grow.

For the first time in years, Jaster allowed himself to hope.  

And beside him, Yoda smiled faintly, the ancient weight of his wisdom carried lightly, as though he, too, had been waiting for this moment.  

“Watch closely, we will,” Yoda murmured softly, his voice a quiet promise. “For blooms like this… rare they are.”

***

(Y/n) stood at the head of the grand hall, its wide expanse already buzzing with quiet anticipation. Sunlight poured through the tall, latticed windows, illuminating the polished marble floors in soft golden beams. She’d spent the better part of her morning organizing yet another round of introductions for Cody and the invited ladies, but today, she was determined to shift the dynamic.

(Y/n) glanced down at her clipboard—a tightly organized grid of names, pairings, and locations. She had carefully plotted this: dividing the suitors among Cody’s cousins and brothers. Her logic was sound—if Cody didn’t feel the full weight of the proceedings on his shoulders, if he weren’t the sole focus of every woman’s attention, perhaps he would loosen up, even if just a little.

And she had managed to secure volunteers—or perhaps unwitting participants—from the extended royal family: Wolffe, Kix, Waxer, Boil, Hunter, and, of course, Rex and the twins.

(Y/n) glanced at the gathered men now, standing in a loose, uneven cluster. Most of them looked like they were bracing for battle.

“Let me get this straight,” Wolffe said, arms crossed tightly over his chest as his piercing gaze scanned the clipboard (Y/n) held. The eldest of the cousins, his air of authority was impossible to miss, though there was something sardonic about him, as if he found life amusing in the most infuriating ways. “You want us to… what? Escort the suitors around and make polite conversation?”

“Yes,” (Y/n) said, keeping her tone professional and unwavering, though Wolffe’s skeptical stare made her throat tighten slightly. “The idea is to lighten the atmosphere, give Cody some breathing room, and allow the ladies to interact with all of you as well.”

“Babysitting duty,” Hunter muttered with an arched brow. His dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and his sharp, observant eyes missed nothing. There was a kind of quiet patience about him, though (Y/n) had a feeling he was assessing the entire situation like a battlefield.

“It’s not babysitting,” (Y/n) replied, though she could already hear the skepticism in their silence. “Think of it as… social diplomacy.”

Kix, the palace medic and the most even-tempered of the group, raised a hand slightly, as though waiting his turn. “And what exactly are we supposed to do with them?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with resignation.

(Y/n) tilted her head slightly, as though to reassure him. “Talk to them. Ask about their home systems. Be… friendly.”

“Friendly,” Waxer repeated, exchanging a grin with Boil beside him. The two cousins—more laid-back than their older counterparts—were already nudging each other like schoolboys in the back of the classroom. “How friendly are we talking here?”

“Polite friendly,” (Y/n) clarified quickly, narrowing her eyes at the pair. “Not ‘charming mischief’ friendly.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?” Boil muttered, though the grin on his face suggested he had no intention of causing trouble. Probably.

Rex, standing a little to the side, looked far too pleased with the entire situation. “I think it’s a brilliant plan,” he said with a grin, his hands tucked lazily into his pockets. “Let’s see if Cody actually cracks a smile this time.”

“It’s not for entertainment, Rex,” (Y/n) shot back, though the faint smirk he offered in return made it impossible to stay frustrated with him.

“Of course not,” Rex said smoothly. “But I’m still looking forward to seeing what happens.”

***

(Y/n) exhaled, turning to face Cody, who stood nearby with his usual air of composed reluctance. He had been quiet the entire time, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor, as though trying to mentally escape the moment.

“Your Highness,” (Y/n) said gently, addressing him directly. “I believe this will help. You don’t have to shoulder everything alone.”

Cody looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, with a faint nod that could almost pass as agreement, he muttered, “We’ll see.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

***

The first half of the morning went surprisingly well. (Y/n) allowed herself a sliver of pride as she observed the scene unfolding in the grand hall. Small clusters of suitors and royal men dotted the room, conversations flowing, and the atmosphere felt… lighter.

Wolffe, to her surprise, stood with an elegant brunette in deep violet, listening attentively as she explained her family’s long-held traditions. Kix had drawn a small circle of women around him, undoubtedly sharing medical stories that (Y/n) hoped weren’t too graphic. Hunter, quiet as ever, was paired with a sharp-witted lady from Alderaan, whose animated conversation seemed to amuse him in spite of himself.

Even Cody, while still stiff, looked far less burdened with Rex standing beside him—no doubt helping to steer the conversation with easy charm.

(Y/n) was just beginning to relax when she noticed Fives and Echo, far too still and far too quiet, near one of the grand hall’s archways. It sent a warning tingle up her spine.

“What are they…” she murmured under her breath, narrowing her eyes as she tried to make sense of their suspiciously innocent expressions.

Fives’ shoulder twitched slightly, as though suppressing a laugh. Echo’s gaze flicked toward the ceiling for a fraction of a second before returning to the small group of women they were entertaining.

The ceiling.

(Y/n) froze, her gaze snapping upward.

She saw it just in time. A large net, strung with bundles of artificial snow—feathers and fine powder—dangled from the chandelier above the center of the room.

“No,” she whispered, her heart sinking.

It was too late. Fives grinned suddenly—bright and unrepentant—as he yanked something from his pocket. Echo turned just in time to give (Y/n) an apologetic shrug.

The net released.

Snow—soft, powdery, and absurdly voluminous—exploded from the ceiling, cascading down like a sudden blizzard. Gasps and shrieks of laughter erupted across the hall as women and royals alike were buried under the unexpected deluge.

(Y/n)’s jaw dropped as Rex burst into a peal of laughter, nearly doubling over as he watched the chaos unfold. Wolffe let out a low, irritated groan as snow settled in his dark hair and dusted the shoulders of his coat.

“Fives!” (Y/n) shouted, her voice rising above the noise as she marched toward the twins, who were already trying to escape toward the hallway. “Echo! What did I say about behaving?”

“Technically,” Fives called back as he darted past Rex, who was still laughing, “we’re enhancing the atmosphere!”

“Yeah!” Echo chimed in, grabbing a handful of snow and tossing it at Waxer, who had joined in the chaos. “It’s festive!”

Rex, tears of laughter in his eyes, straightened enough to throw a look at (Y/n), who now stood with her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed. “I told you—friendly mischief.”

“You’re all impossible!” (Y/n) snapped, though she couldn’t stop the reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

****

From where he stood near the edge of the hall, Cody brushed snow off his coat, his expression unreadable. A faint dusting of powder clung to his hair, but he didn’t seem to notice it.

Instead, his gaze drifted toward (Y/n), who stood in the center of the chaos. Her hands were still on her hips, her expression half-scolding, half-amused as she watched Rex and the twins with exasperated affection.

Cody’s lips twitched—the barest flicker of a smile. It was brief and small, but it softened the lines of his face, made his shoulders relax.

For all the weight on her shoulders, for all her determination to keep everything perfect, (Y/n) made the palace feel alive again.

Perhaps, he thought as he turned quietly toward the hall’s exit, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

****

In the corner of the hall, Rex caught (Y/n)’s eye, a mischievous grin still lingering as he dusted snow off his sleeves. “You’ve got to admit,” he called over the noise, “it is festive.”

(Y/n) groaned, but even as she shook her head, she couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped her lips.

***

The day broke gently over Alderia, sunlight glinting off the frost-touched landscape like a painter’s brush had scattered silver across the world. The palace, still waking in quiet elegance, seemed to stretch its limbs as a fresh wave of crisp air flowed in from the mountains.

(Y/n) had taken her breakfast in the dining room again, seated at the far end of the enormous table. A modest spread had been laid before her, and though the tea was fragrant and the pastries warm, she found herself picking at the edges of her meal, her mind lingering stubbornly on the day’s agenda.

The introductions from the previous day replayed themselves in an endless loop—Cody’s polite stiffness, the carefully orchestrated smiles of the suitors, the pauses that stretched too long, heavy with unsaid words. You planned for everything, (Y/n) thought bitterly. And yet here we are.

She was about to lift her cup for a sip when a chair scraped loudly against the floor. (Y/n) flinched, startled, and looked up to see Rex sliding into the seat across from her with the kind of careless ease that only he could pull off. He looked far too energetic for someone who had no reason to be awake so early.

“Good morning,” he said, with a grin that was altogether too bright for the hour.

(Y/n) sighed, placing her cup back down. “Rex. Do you ever not appear out of nowhere?”

“I like to think of it as being punctual,” Rex replied, reaching for a fresh roll from the basket at the center of the table. He tore it in half with practiced ease, popping a piece into his mouth before glancing at her pointedly. “Though you look like you’ve been sitting here arguing with your thoughts for the better part of an hour.”

“I’m not arguing,” (Y/n) replied, though the tightness in her tone betrayed her frustration.

“Oh?” Rex tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully. “Planning, then. You do a lot of that.”

“It’s my job.” She picked at the edges of her napkin, willing herself to focus on anything other than his direct gaze. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of—”

“Of what?” he interrupted gently, though there was no teasing in his voice this time. “Forgetting that life isn’t made of plans?”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to argue but found no words. The observation hit too close to home, as Rex’s usually did. He watched her for a moment longer before leaning back in his chair, draping an arm casually across the backrest.

“All right, enough of this,” he said decisively. “You’re coming with me.”

(Y/n) frowned, blinking. “What?”

“Out. A ride.”

She stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. “A ride? On horses?”

Rex grinned, already victorious. “What else? Fresh air, open land, the whole countryside to ourselves.”

“Rex, I don’t have time for—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off, though his tone remained maddeningly calm. “(Y/n), if I let you sit here another hour, you’re going to wear a hole in that table with how hard you’re frowning. Trust me—there’s more to this planet than ballroom introductions and checklists. Let me show you.”

There it was again—that impossible pull he always managed to have on her. She stared at him for a long moment, debating, trying to hold on to her resolve. But something in the way he looked at her—earnest and insistent but never forceful—made the words fall flat on her tongue.

With a heavy sigh, she relented. “Fine. One hour.”

“One hour,” he agreed, though the grin he gave her said he already considered it a full victory. “Stables in twenty minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

***

The air outside was crisp, the kind of winter morning where every breath felt clean and sharp against the lungs. Snow still dusted the palace grounds, glistening under the rising sun, though it had begun to melt in places where the trees offered a break from the frost.

(Y/n) stood by the royal stables, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she watched the horses being saddled. She hadn’t ridden in years—not since she was a child on Coruscant, where the rare few riding paths were carefully controlled and more for show than anything else.

Rex, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He stood beside a tall, dapple-gray stallion, stroking its neck with practiced hands. His sleeves were pushed up again, the cold seemingly not bothering him in the slightest, and a faint smile played on his lips as he whispered to the horse in low, soothing tones.

“You look far too comfortable,” (Y/n) said, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Rex looked up, flashing her an easy smile. “This is my element.”

“And here I thought mischief was your element.”

“Ah, that’s just a hobby.” Rex winked before turning to gesture toward the horse being brought to her—a sleek chestnut mare with a kind, intelligent face. “This is Aurora. She’s gentle but spirited. You’ll get along just fine.”

(Y/n) eyed the horse warily. “I’m not so sure.”

Rex stepped closer, his tone softening. “She won’t let you fall. And neither will I.”

There was something in the way he said it—earnest, quiet—that made (Y/n)’s throat tighten slightly. She allowed herself a breath before nodding and letting one of the stable hands help her into the saddle.

***

The wind whistled softly as (Y/n) pulled her borrowed cloak closer, the thick fabric shielding her from the lingering winter chill. The horses moved in steady rhythm beneath them, their hooves crunching softly through the light blanket of snow that covered the rolling meadows beyond the palace. Rex rode just a pace ahead of her, completely at ease, his posture loose and natural as though he belonged to this land.

(Y/n), though less confident, managed to keep Aurora, the gentle chestnut mare, moving smoothly alongside him. She focused on the sound of the horses, on the wide openness of the space stretching out before her—fields and valleys edged with frost, dotted by the dark outlines of evergreens.

It had been years since she’d felt anything like this—open air, the rush of motion, the world wide enough that it felt like it could swallow every weight she carried.

“I told you this would be better than staring at your tea,” Rex called over his shoulder, the wind carrying his voice to her like a song on the breeze.

(Y/n) smiled faintly, though she couldn’t bring herself to admit he was right—yet. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m still deciding.”

Rex laughed softly, the sound warm in the cold air. “You’ll come around.” He slowed his horse slightly so that they rode side by side. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the world quiet except for the rhythm of hooves and the faint creak of leather saddles.

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. “You seem… happy out here,” she observed quietly.

Rex looked ahead, his smile softening. “I am.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the snow-dusted hills in the distance. “Because out here, I don’t have to be anything but myself,” he said finally. “There’s no one expecting me to play a role or fill a gap. I’m just… Rex.”

(Y/n) watched him, her fingers curling tighter around the reins. “And in the palace?”

“In the palace,” he said with a faint sigh, “I’m the spare. The second. The one who fills the space around the crown.” He turned to her then, his storm-colored eyes holding hers. “I don’t mind it, not really. Cody was born for it. But sometimes… it feels like there’s nothing else for me to be.”

The quiet that followed felt heavier, as though the world itself had stopped to listen. (Y/n) hesitated before speaking, her voice soft.

“I understand that,” she murmured.

Rex raised a brow. “You do?”

(Y/n) looked forward, letting her gaze drift to the open expanse of white and gold. “I’ve spent so much time helping others find love—building connections, crafting perfect matches—that I stopped looking for myself. It’s as though I’m… watching from the outside. Always watching.”

There was no pity in Rex’s gaze, only understanding. “And have you ever… wanted it?”

(Y/n) let out a faint, self-deprecating laugh, though it caught in her throat. “I wouldn’t know what to want. Love, as I’ve seen it, always seems so… chaotic. And yet, it’s the one thing everyone wants. It’s the thing they can’t live without.”

“And you?” Rex asked quietly.

(Y/n) turned to him, her expression soft but guarded. “I guess I’ve never felt I deserved it.”

Rex blinked, as though the confession had knocked something loose inside him. “That’s not true.”

“How would you know?” (Y/n) countered, her voice trembling slightly despite herself.

“Because I’ve seen you,” Rex said, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re always the one holding everything together—steady and sure, even when it’s not your burden to carry. You deserve more than just watching.”

The words hung between them, raw and unguarded, until Rex gave her a crooked, disarming smile. “Besides,” he added, lightening his tone, “chaos isn’t always bad. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.”

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, her heart thudding quietly in her chest. She didn’t know what to say, so instead, she looked back out at the open meadow.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt the faintest spark of hope—quiet and fragile but impossible to ignore.

As they rode on, Rex glanced at her again, the edges of his smile softer now, less teasing. He didn’t say anything more, but something unspoken passed between them—an understanding, a connection.

Neither of them knew where it would lead.

But for now, it was enough.

***

(Y/n) paced the length of the ballroom with her clipboard in hand, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. The room, dressed in restrained elegance, was set for the next phase of introductions—an opportunity for each of the noblewomen and princesses to spend an uninterrupted hour with Cody. It was (Y/n)’s hope that the structured intimacy would allow for a deeper connection, perhaps even help Cody find some common ground with at least one of them.

The tables had been arranged with meticulous care, adorned with soft floral arrangements and tea sets laid out on embroidered linens. A fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth diffusing the chill in the room. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, bathing the grand space in gold, as if the day itself wanted to encourage success.

(Y/n)’s preparations were flawless—as always.

And yet, deep in her chest, a nagging sense of unease lingered.

The suitors, elegantly dressed and seated in the antechamber, were perfect on paper. Beautiful, poised, intelligent, and well-spoken. But perfection, (Y/n) knew all too well, could often feel hollow. And she was beginning to fear that hollow was exactly what Cody would find in each of them.

“Everything looks… unnecessarily perfect,” Rex’s voice broke through her thoughts, lighthearted and teasing as ever.

(Y/n) startled slightly, turning to find him lounging against one of the window frames, arms crossed and the familiar crooked smile tugging at his lips. He looked too at ease for someone standing amidst her painstakingly crafted setting—like he belonged in chaos more than polished order.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him in mock reproach.

“Why not? I’m helping.” He pushed off the frame, strolling toward her with the easy gait that she had come to know far too well.

“Helping?” (Y/n) scoffed, though her tone held no real irritation. “You’ve spent the last week interrupting my work.”

“Interrupting,” Rex corrected, as though it were a badge of honor, “is a form of assistance. It keeps you from overthinking everything.”

“I don’t overthink,” (Y/n) shot back defensively, clutching her clipboard just a little tighter.

Rex grinned, clearly delighted to see her bristling. “You’re overthinking right now.”

(Y/n) sighed, biting back a reluctant smile. “If you’re here to derail my plans, you’re too late. Everything is set. Each of the women will have an hour alone with Cody today. That’s their time to make an impression.”

Rex gave an exaggerated wince as he surveyed the ballroom. “Alone with Cody? You’re asking for trouble.”

(Y/n) frowned, brow furrowing as she glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen him,” Rex replied casually, leaning against the back of one of the chairs and watching her with an amused expression. “The man treats these introductions like he’s attending a military tribunal. Straight back, stiff smile, saying as little as humanly possible.”

(Y/n) sighed, pressing her fingers against her temple. “I know. But this is important, Rex. He needs to—”

“Relax?” Rex interrupted, his grin widening when she shot him a glare. “(Y/n), you’ve set up the perfect stage, but you can’t force chemistry. That’s the problem. You’re trying to plan love.”

“That’s my job!” she snapped, though her voice cracked slightly at the end, as if she were exasperated with herself more than him. “And it’s not as simple as you make it sound.”

Rex straightened slightly, his gaze softening. “It’s never simple. But you can’t make someone feel something they don’t.”

The truth of his words settled in (Y/n)’s chest like a heavy stone, and she looked away, unable to hold his gaze. She knew he was right. As much as she hoped to create the perfect conditions, connection wasn’t something that could be controlled. It either happened or it didn’t.

***

From her vantage point in the shadows of the ballroom, Lady Mara watched with the stillness of a predator. Her keen gaze never wavered as it settled on (Y/n) and Rex, the young woman’s flustered reaction to Rex’s teasing and the unmistakable warmth in his gaze as he lingered near her.

It was subtle, but Mara saw it—she always saw it. The way Rex leaned just slightly too close, the softness of his smile when (Y/n) wasn’t looking, the flicker of hesitation in (Y/n)’s eyes, as though she wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between them.

But Mara knew.

Her fingers curled slowly around the edge of her shawl, the fabric brushing softly against her gloves as her lips pressed into a thin line. She had spent too many years waiting—watching—as Jaster’s grandsons grew into men, as they carried the titles and power that should have been hers.

She had been patient—oh, so patient—ever since the day Jango, her brother’s favored son, had taken everything from her. The throne, the future she had so carefully planned, had all been ripped away like a cruel twist of fate. When Jango died, she had thought it her time at last—her chance to step into the light and claim what was rightfully hers. But Jaster had refused to bend. He had raised Jango’s sons like the kings they were never meant to be, tightening his grip on the crown, solidifying his dynasty.

Now here she stood, in a palace that should have been hers, watching Jaster’s precious grandsons ruin everything. Rex, of all people—reckless, charming, unpredictable Rex—had begun to slip through her carefully laid cracks.

Her dark eyes swept back to (Y/n), the matchmaker. She was supposed to be here to solve the problem of Cody’s disinterest, yet somehow, she had become the problem herself. Mara saw the quiet connection between her and Rex beginning to form—fragile, unspoken, but growing like ivy on an ancient wall. It wasn’t merely an inconvenience; it was dangerous.

Mara’s nails dug into the soft fabric of her glove as she turned away from the ballroom. She moved silently, her skirts whispering along the floor as she stepped out into the quieter hallway beyond.

*** 

Mara strode purposefully down the shadowed corridor, her mind whirling with thoughts. The palace was alive with movement—the footsteps of servants, the murmur of distant voices—but Mara walked through it all like a ghost, unseen and unnoticed.

She couldn’t allow this. Not again.

Jaster’s sons had already stolen too much from her. She wouldn’t stand idle while they found love and strength to secure their power. A royal marriage, the forging of alliances—that would cement their place for generations to come, locking her and her line into the cold shadows of obscurity.

No.

Her gaze hardened as she turned a corner, entering a smaller study tucked away from the bustle of the main palace. She paused near the window, staring out at the snow-draped gardens below, where faint lantern light still flickered from the winter rose beds.

Rex, she thought bitterly, his name curling on her tongue like ash. He was too much like his father—too carefree, too charming. But unlike Jango, he was reckless. Mara could use that. His unpredictability could be turned against him, twisted to tarnish the reputation he carried.

And (Y/n)…

Mara’s lips curled faintly. The matchmaker was earnest and focused, but it made her predictable. A woman so busy trying to fit the world into neat little boxes couldn’t see a storm forming until it was too late.

***

A knock at the door broke through her thoughts.

“Enter,” she said smoothly, turning just as the heavy door creaked open and one of her most trusted attendants, a man named Luthar, slipped inside. He was a wiry man, his presence shadowed and unassuming, but his loyalty to Lady Mara was unquestionable.

“You summoned me, my lady?” Luthar’s voice was low and deferential.

“Yes,” Mara replied, her tone calm, measured. She gestured for him to step closer, her dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. “I need you to watch someone for me.”

Luthar inclined his head. “Who?”

“The matchmaker,” Mara said smoothly, folding her hands in front of her. “(Y/n) (Y/L/N). I want to know her movements. Who she speaks with. Who she trusts.”

Luthar gave a slight bow. “And the prince?”

“Rex,” Mara said softly, almost to herself, as though tasting the name on her tongue. “Keep an eye on him as well. He’s grown… distracted. That distraction could prove useful.”

Luthar hesitated, his gaze flickering with unspoken curiosity. “And if something should arise?”

Mara’s expression hardened, the faintest hint of a smile curling at the edges of her mouth. “Then you’ll inform me immediately. I’ll handle it.”

Luthar bowed again before slipping from the room as silently as he had entered.

****

Once she was alone again, Mara turned back to the window, her gaze sweeping the snow-covered grounds below. The garden was quiet now, but she could still see it in her mind: (Y/n) and Rex, walking beneath the lanterns, their laughter drifting up through the cold night air.

It was fragile.

Too fragile to last, she thought. And she would ensure it didn’t.

Jaster had stolen her crown. His grandsons had stolen her legacy.

But love?

Love was a fire she could extinguish before it ever had the chance to burn.

With that thought, she turned sharply, the rustle of her skirts echoing through the empty room. Lady Mara, patient and cunning, would not be ignored any longer.

***

As the morning passed, oblivious to the dark intentions brewing in the shadows, Rex found (Y/n) once again—this time in the library, surrounded by books and notes.

“Still working?” he teased, leaning against a nearby bookshelf with a grin that was far too casual.

(Y/n) looked up, startled, and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I’m always working. It’s what you hired me for, remember?”

Rex grinned, pushing off the bookshelf to sit on the edge of the table, far too close for propriety’s comfort. “You should take a break. I hear there’s a lovely view from the gardens around this time.”

(Y/n) glanced at him, her cheeks warming faintly, though she tried to ignore the way her pulse jumped at his nearness. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you keep me around,” Rex replied, his voice softening as his teasing smile melted into something quieter.

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come.

In that moment, as their eyes met and lingered, she felt it—the shift. The fragile thread of something unspoken, growing stronger with every breath they shared.

And just beyond the warmth of the library walls, Lady Mara watched, unseen and waiting, the storm she intended to unleash already beginning to gather.

****

### **The Dance Lessons**  

The ballroom gleamed in soft afternoon light, its wide marble floor polished to a mirror-like sheen. The vast space echoed with anticipation—servants hurrying to finish preparations, chairs tucked neatly against the far wall, fresh garlands of winter roses hanging from the tall archways. 

(Y/n) stood at the center of it all, a clipboard in her hand and tension in her shoulders as she surveyed the day’s task. *Dance lessons.* It was the logical next step—graceful movement, light conversation, an easy way to break the icy formality between Cody and the suitors. She had coordinated every detail: music selections, the layout, the schedule, and, of course, the “volunteers” she had roped in to serve as dance partners.  

**Cody, Rex, Wolffe, Hunter, Kix, Waxer, Boil, Fives, and Echo** stood at varying levels of discomfort near the edge of the ballroom, all dressed in their finest tunics—boots polished, collars starched—and wearing expressions that ranged from resigned to outright rebellious.  

“This is ridiculous,” Wolffe muttered, crossing his arms as his sharp gaze swept the room. “I’m not a dance instructor.”  

“You’re *helping,*” (Y/n) replied crisply, flipping through her notes to keep herself from snapping back. “You’ll all partner with the ladies who haven’t yet had a chance to properly engage with Prince Cody. Think of it as your civic duty.”

“Civic duty?” Hunter murmured, arching a brow at her. “I didn’t realize dancing had become a matter of state.”

“It has now,” (Y/n) shot back, leveling a look at him before continuing. “The goal is for the women to feel at ease. Relaxed. Do you think they’ll be comfortable dancing with a prince who refuses to smile?” 

From his place against the far wall, **Cody** lifted his gaze from where he’d been inspecting the floor. “I can hear you.”

“You were supposed to,” (Y/n) replied sweetly, though her gaze lingered on him just long enough to soften the sting.  

The twins, predictably, were already at it—Fives elbowed Echo, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “I’m going to win the crowd over,” Fives announced grandly, smoothing the front of his coat with mock seriousness. “They’ll forget Cody’s even here.”

“Try not to trip,” Echo replied dryly, though his smirk betrayed him.  

(Y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly before scanning the room for the one man she hadn’t yet heard complain. Rex. 

---

**Rex stood near the grand piano**, watching (Y/n) with an unreadable expression as she corralled the cousins and brothers like a commander on a battlefield. He’d grown used to seeing her like this—sharp, focused, and entirely in control—but something about today felt different. Her movements were more rushed, her tone a little too clipped, as if she were holding something back.  

Rex watched her for another beat before stepping forward, his boots tapping softly against the marble. “You’re going to wear a hole in that clipboard,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he stopped beside her.

(Y/n) glanced up sharply, startled. “I’m fine.”

“You always say that,” Rex replied, tilting his head as he studied her, “and yet you look like you’re ready to strangle someone with your notes.”  

(Y/n) bit back a retort, her pulse quickening slightly under the weight of his gaze. “They’re impossible to manage,” she muttered instead, gesturing toward the assembled group. “None of them take this seriously.”

“They’re taking it as seriously as you let them,” Rex said softly, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “You could use a break, you know. You’ve been on edge since—well, *since always*.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. There was no point arguing with Rex when he saw straight through her defenses. She let out a soft breath instead, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. “Are you here to help or just to distract me?”

Rex’s lips curled into that familiar lopsided grin that made (Y/n)’s stomach flip in ways she wasn’t prepared to admit. “Both.”

***

The music began—a soft, lilting waltz played on the grand piano by a palace musician—and the suitors moved hesitantly into the ballroom. (Y/n)’s voice cut through the murmurs like a whip of calm authority.  

“All right, ladies, gentlemen—pair up, please,” she called, her voice carrying easily over the music. “One lady to each of you. Prince Cody will begin at the center, and the rest of you will rotate every ten minutes. This is about comfort and conversation. Please, try to enjoy yourselves.”

*Enjoy themselves.* (Y/n) wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a more reluctant group of dancers.

The ballroom was a wash of gold and white, sunlight filtering through tall stained-glass windows, dappling the polished marble floor with warmth. The soft strains of a waltz echoed through the vast space, mingling with the laughter and polite murmurs of conversation as the dance lessons finally began. It was as (Y/n) had planned—graceful, orderly, structured.

Yet despite the perfect setting, the atmosphere still felt off.

Cody, positioned at the center with yet another partner, moved stiffly, his every step mechanical, as though he were a clockwork figure. (Y/n) watched him carefully from her spot near the edge of the room, her brow furrowed as she made notes on her clipboard. Every step, every rotation, felt like another missed opportunity. Cody’s partner smiled, but (Y/n) could see through it—polite, practiced, but hollow.

The ballroom was filling with cracks, tiny fissures in the façade she’d worked so hard to create.

***

Across the floor, Rex moved among the dancers with a kind of natural ease that both frustrated and fascinated her. He laughed easily, spinning one of the young princesses with a flair that earned him a round of applause from the other ladies. The charm came effortlessly to him, a boyish mischief lighting up his face that made him impossible to ignore.

But (Y/n) had learned something about Rex these last few weeks. That carefree exterior of his? It was a mask—clever, disarming, but not quite real. And when he let it slip, even just a little, (Y/n) felt as though she’d glimpsed something precious and fragile.

Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to see.

“Careful, Matchmaker.”

Rex’s voice broke through her thoughts like a ripple across still water. (Y/n) blinked, startled, to find him suddenly at her side, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his blue-gray eyes fixed on her with a look that sent her pulse fluttering.

“You’re brooding again,” Rex said, a teasing smile curving his lips. “You’re supposed to be watching the dancing, not staring holes into the floor.”

“I’m working,” (Y/n) replied stiffly, though her voice faltered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Are you?” Rex asked, tilting his head. “Because from here, it looks like you’re worrying yourself into an early grave.”

(Y/n) frowned, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Cody isn’t connecting with anyone. This is supposed to help, but it’s… falling apart.”

“Falling apart?” Rex murmured, his tone softer now. “Not everything needs to be perfect, (Y/n).”

“It’s my job to make it perfect,” she said quietly, her fingers tightening around the clipboard. “If I don’t, who will?”

There was a pause, and when she finally looked up, Rex was watching her—not with teasing amusement this time, but with something softer, something deeper.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” he said, his voice low, as though the words weren’t meant for anyone but her. “You try to hold the world together on your own, and it’s going to crush you if you’re not careful.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came. He always did this—saw through the carefully constructed wall she’d built around herself and reached straight into the fragile heart of it.

“Come on,” Rex said suddenly, breaking the moment before it could deepen further. He extended a hand to her, his grin returning, though the softness in his eyes remained. “Dance with me.”

(Y/n) blinked. “What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeated, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “You can’t teach everyone else if you’re not willing to join in yourself.”

“I’m not here to dance,” (Y/n) stammered, flustered, her cheeks warming. “I’m overseeing—”

“You’re overthinking,” Rex said, smirking faintly. “One dance, (Y/n). You can go back to your clipboard after.”

***

Her hesitation broke when she felt the brothers and cousins watching—Wolffe’s sharp gaze, Kix’s faint smirk, and the twins’ not-so-subtle nudges. From across the room, Fives grinned like a child with a secret, whispering something to Echo that made them both chuckle under their breath.

Even Cody had noticed, pausing just slightly mid-step with his partner to glance over, his brow lifting in quiet curiosity.

(Y/n)’s breath caught as the room seemed to shift its focus. It was subtle, but she felt it—their eyes on her, on Rex, and on whatever it was that lingered between them like a spark waiting to catch fire.

She looked up at Rex, whose hand was still extended toward her, patient but insistent. There was no teasing in his face anymore, only quiet encouragement.

Just one dance, she told herself, though her heart hammered wildly in her chest. Slowly, she slipped her hand into his.

Rex’s smile softened, as though her acceptance meant far more to him than he would ever admit. “Trust me,” he murmured.

***

They moved onto the floor, and for the first time that day, the music seemed to come alive. The melody swelled gently, wrapping around them as Rex placed his hand lightly against (Y/n)’s waist and guided her into the steps of the waltz.

At first, (Y/n)’s movements were stiff, self-conscious. She could feel the others watching—Cody, Wolffe, the cousins—but she forced herself to focus on Rex.

“Relax,” Rex murmured, his voice just above a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. “It’s just us.”

(Y/n) looked up into his face, startled by the sincerity in his words. “It’s not just us. They’re all staring.”

“Let them stare,” Rex replied softly, his thumb brushing lightly against her hand. “I’m only looking at you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as his words settled over her like a warmth she hadn’t expected. She looked up at him, truly looked, and saw something in his eyes that she hadn’t allowed herself to see before. The teasing grin was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

Rex was… different. He wasn’t the carefree prince who pulled her into snowball fights or dragged her away from her work. He was this—steady, grounded, and impossibly real.

And it terrified her.

***

From across the room, the brothers and cousins noticed the shift.

“Finally,” Fives muttered to Echo, elbowing him in the ribs. “I thought I’d have to push him into her.”

Echo smirked, though his gaze lingered on Rex and (Y/n) with quiet understanding. “Don’t jinx it.”

Hunter’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. “About time he noticed.”

Even Wolffe, usually the most reserved of them all, let out a faint, resigned sigh. “He’s in trouble.”

***

(Y/n) felt it, too.

As they moved in perfect rhythm, her body following the subtle press of Rex’s hand at her waist, (Y/n) realized how easily he grounded her. How he made everything—the chaos, the expectations, the weight—feel just a little lighter.

She glanced up at him, searching his face. What is happening to me?

Rex looked down at her as though he could hear her unspoken question. His gaze held hers, steady and sure, his expression open in a way that made her chest tighten.

And for the first time, (Y/n) let herself feel it—the spark, the pull that she could no longer deny.

As the music slowed and the last note faded into the air, Rex didn’t let go of her hand right away. His fingers lingered against hers, his voice low and rough when he finally spoke.

“See?” he murmured. “One dance didn’t kill you.”

(Y/n) stared up at him, her heart thudding wildly. “No,” she whispered. “It didn’t.”

But it might have undone her entirely.

***

Lady Mara, hidden once again near the ballroom’s entrance, watched with narrowed eyes. Her sharp gaze swept over Rex and (Y/n) as they lingered just a second too long in the center of the room.

This cannot be allowed.

A plan was already forming in her mind. If love were to take root here, she would see it wither before it ever had the chance to bloom.

As the dance ended, and the room returned to its usual hum of conversation, Lady Mara turned sharply on her heel, slipping away into the shadows with purpose.

Let them play their games for now, she thought. It won’t last.

***

Thank you so much for reading the first part! 🌟 I had an absolute blast writing this story—it was such a joy to weave together the magic of the holidays

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Whether it’s your favorite moment, the scenes that made you smile, or even the twists that caught you by surprise—your reactions mean the world to me. 💕 Feel free to leave a comment, share your feelings, or even just drop by to say hi! And whether you'd be interested in a second part.

Part 2

[after-show]

AFTER SHOW

Prologue

You should've known your cheap taser won't do shit to an almost 7 feet tall advanced machinery with an equally advanced protective system.

You also should've known installing a self-conscious AI with the personality of a sadistic and violent serial killer into it wasn't the wisest idea.

You fucked up. Like they said you would.

But in a dangerous way.

They meant– you'll fail, and end up spoiling your reputation, or worse, losing your job. Pretty simple, right?

But now you might just end up losing your life.

Goddammit.

You have to fix this, before anyone finds out.

Even if it means ruining your career and stature, risking your life, and destroying your long-cherished dream.

That dream has become a nightmare now.

And it's going to come haunt you again tonight.

Tonight, only one of you will come out with their consciousness, alive.

Welcome to the after show.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

It's coming closer.

Thunk.

It's rounding the corner.

... Thunk.

It's in front of you.

You brace yourself.

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.

.

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"Creator, creator, what will you do... when your creation comes looking for you?"

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A/N:

Crossposting ON AO3 and WATTPAD.

I already have some chapters there so make sure to check it out :D

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[dilxcc]

chapter five

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

note. i swear this chapter would be more enjoyable if you read it while listening to kai's come in. ALSO FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! i actually was listening to kai's say you love me (i thought it fits the yandere theme much more but angst works too hehe) when i come up with this ff 🤭 im not even going to lie when i say most of his songs inspired me to write

previous chapter

his face was adorned with a sweet smile. one hand caressing your hair while the other were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. you were too caught up in what was happening until he was suddenly further away from you. your voice were stuck in your throat, desperately trying to call out for him.

that gentle smile were replaced with resentment. you didn't get what was happening. your heart ache as he continue to get further away. you begged for your legs to start moving ― to start chasing after him. but it wouldn't move.

.

you woke up with a start, slightly out of breath as you take in your surrounding. your head was immediately turned towards the door when it swung open, revealing the very source of your nightmare. "satoru..." you muttered. despite your best effort to look like nothing had happened, he had already caught on to it.

"you good?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. "yeah," you answered almost immediately. he knew that was not the case. hell, he's been friends with you since your teenage years. of course, he would know if something was wrong. but he didn't push the topic any further. "are the kids okay?" you asked softly. he put the plastic bag that he brought with him on the bedside table. "they are. thanks to you," he smiled slightly.

you let out a sigh of relief before laying back down on the bed. "i brought your favorites," he said, his eyes were wandering around the hospital room. "eat it while it's still hot," he added.

for the next few minutes, he accompanied you as you ate your lunch ― that was what he told you. as if noticing your constant need to clear your throat, he suddenly got up from his seat and started walking towards the door. "where are you going?" you immediately asked. "missing me already?" he asked with a teasing smile, making you to crack a smile of your own. "i'm getting you water," he said softly, his hand on the doorknob. "i'll be back in a few,"

after he left, you were left alone with your thoughts. your mind wander back to the dream you just had. was it really a dream..? or was it some sort of prediction that might happen in the future? you shook your head slightly, denying all possibilities. there was no way that would happen... right?

.

the two students clung onto you, tears staining their faces as they shout words of gratefulness. "you scared us back there!" itadori started. "we thought that you died!"

gojo only watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. the fushiguro boy had a concerned look on his face but he was trying his hard to not show it.

after a few minutes of consoling your students, they finally calmed down and returned to their usual routine. you were left alone with the gojo satoru yet again. "don't you have a business trip? you usually have one," you muttered.

"told those old men that i'm busy," the white haired male shrugged. "then why are you still here?" you tilted your head in disbelief. he let out a chuckle and shrugged. "let's hang out," he smiled brightly, dodging your question expertly. he do know why he was here ― why he was reluctant to leave your side. he was scared that you might get hurt again; that you might... leave him.

you sighed and shook your head. "i can't, satoru. i still have classes," you rejected. "oh, you mean the one you had after this? loosen up. you still got two more days before you actually need to start teaching again," he said. "plus, those kids won't have a single mission any time soon," he smiled.

"no, means no, satoru," you sighed. "yes, you mean?" he insisted. without asking for your permission, he grabbed your hand and warped the two of you in front of a sweets shop. "satoru!" you groaned.

without letting go of your hand, he starts walking inside the shop, looking through at the various flavors they have. "choose your favorite," he said softly before letting go of your hand and wander around the store in search for his favorite flavors.

you sighed in defeat before you decided to give in and take a look around the store. it had different flavors, some you have heard of and some that you have never heard of. your eyes stopped at the familiar candy that you used to eat back in the days. yours and satoru's favorite.

you wondered if it was still his favorite.

.

sitting at the park bench, you unwrapped the toffee plastic and popped it inside your mouth. "oh," satoru was frozen in his spot, his eyes glued on the confectionery. he remembered the times during your teenage days when both you and satoru would eat these candies under a tree, laughing at each other's joke.

"still your favorite?" he asked softly, his eyes soften behind his black glasses. you hummed and closed your eyes. "i haven't ate this since..." he trailed off. obviously he meant since the time that your relationship drifted away. "yeah, me too," you smiled bitterly.

he scoot himself closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. there was no words needed to be exchanged. just simply being in silence with him, the chirping of the birds and his raging heartbeats were enough.

taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra

masterlist

[extasiswings]

Buck and Eddie could full out have sex at the bachelor party in 7x06 and some of y’all would be like “Buddie canon is so dead/never happening” and also complain about it being bad and evil because “it’s cheating” or whatever 🙄

[nebula-remnants]

drew them while waiting for my class

[charmingradiobelle]

Slow burn except I’m extremely impatient so they get together in like 4 chapters

[rex-meshla]

Shadows of the Force

PAIRING | Captain Rex x F!OC (Stella Cardone) SUMMARY | This story follows a slow-burn romance between an earthling and a certain Captain that we all love and admire. The story builds with every quiet exchange, every heartbeat of tension. It may be slow, but trust me, it's worth sticking around DISCLAIMER | This universe isn't strictly canon—because, honestly, f*ck Order 66 and Fives' death A/N

Prologue: The Lost and the Jedi

She never imagined that her life would lead her here, pulled from the ruins of Earth by strangers from the stars. Earth had been her home—a beautiful planet filled with breathtaking landscapes, vast oceans, and vibrant life. Then, in an instant, everything was lost. A catastrophic event wiped it all away, leaving only a desolate wasteland of memories and ruins. She was the last one left.

Meanwhile, far from Earth, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and his team were in the midst of the Clone Wars. During a mission in the Outer Rim, they intercepted a strange transmission, an encrypted set of coordinates. The origin was completely unknown, from a system not charted on any galactic maps. Intrigued and wary, Anakin was compelled to investigate, sensing an unusual pull in the Force.

As they dropped out of hyperspace, a blue-green planet came into view, surrounded by silence and untouched by galactic civilization. It was unlike any world Anakin had seen. The team landed cautiously, disembarking to explore the area around their landing site.

In the distance, wandering through the wreckage of what seemed to be a city, Anakin saw a figure. He hurried over, the clones following closely. As he approached, he could see the exhaustion and despair in her eyes—a young woman, lost and out of place.

"Hey! Are you alright?" he called, his voice filled with urgency.

The girl looked up, startled. She blinked, taking in the sight of the armored soldiers and the man who had spoken to her. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I... I'm alone. My world... it's gone" The words escaped her, weighed down with grief and disbelief.

Anakin's expression softened, sensing something in her that he couldn't quite place. He approached slowly. "You're okay now" he reassured her, his tone warm. "We're here to help. My name is Anakin, and these are my men" He said, motioning toward the troopers behind him.

One of them stepped forward, removing his helmet to reveal a strong face framed by a blond buzz cut and intense brown eyes. His expression held a mixture of sympathy and curiosity. His armor was distinguished by a blue pauldron on his shoulder. "I'm Captain Rex. What's your name?" he asked gently.

"Stella" she managed to say, her heart racing.

Anakin gave her a gentle nod, motioning for her to follow. "Come on Stella, we'll take you somewhere safe"

_____________________________________________________________

I hope you've enjoyed this little teaser. You can find the rest of the story here and my masterlist here x

[ariadnes-red-thread]

The Last Word: Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR: SAY NOTHING

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter [coming soon]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Chapter Summary: Brought face-to-face with Fives after their one-night stand, Mal faces hard choices and harder truths. Meanwhile, Fives knows at least one thing that this new battalion medic is hiding and he's beginning to suspect that there might be more.

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing (mostly in mand'o), Mentions of Umbara/past trauma and past sexual situations, canon-typical violence, character death mention/flashback

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Recommended Listening: Say Nothing by Flume feat. MAY-A

A/N: Another new chapter? Within a month? WHO IS SHE?

Ao3

Taglist

She was staring, a sardonic voice pointed out from somewhere deep within her. Mal snapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw to keep it from falling open again. Fives was here.

For a moment, she glowed. Mal felt herself light up as the night before enveloped her. She thought about the boundless joy of his laugh, the soft friction of his facial hair, the heat of his broad body, the gentle and hungry press of his lips. Then, she caught the dull reflection of her green eyes in the durasteel wall behind him. 

Panic rippled through Mal’s body, casting any lightness into deep, dark shadow. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“This is Tup.” Mal’s heart was racing as Kix went down the line, oblivious to the inner turmoil that she’d been thrown into. “And this is Fives, our resident ARC.”

“And resident pain in the ass,” Jesse added.

Fives pressed his lips together in a smirk. There was no doubt he recognized her. The ripples of panic swelled into waves that threatened to pull her under any moment. She did the only thing she could think of.

“Nice to meet you.” Mal quickly spoke, a bit louder than she meant. 

Tup gave a cheerful reply that she only faintly heard. Instead, Mal stared at his brother. Fives’ eyebrows shot up. His eyes flashed over her and he frowned before he finally nodded. Mal let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Likewise.” Fives’ reply was pointed, but only to her.

“Come on,” Kix said as he took a step forward, oblivious to the thousand little unspoken words that had just passed between his new civilian medic and his brother. “I’m starving.”

The small group moved together to the mess hall. Around her, Jesse, Kix, and Tup joked and laughed. Only she and Fives walked in silence, sweating under the unforgiving lights. 

The waves of panic had passed, turning into a heavy rock that sat in the pit of her stomach. While Mal waited for his move, she ruminated on her bad luck. The chance of Fives being in her battalion had to have been a million to one. But here he was and now she was about to eat dinner with him. She half-listened to Jesse as he made a joke about GAR food and let out an obligatory laugh when she was supposed to, but inside, Mal was reeling.</p>

No Jedi, no medics, and especially no clones. She had that rule for cycles, and now one slip-up, fueled by alcohol and momentary passion, could undo everything. To begin with, it was unethical and unprofessional. She was already an outsider in an army of brothers. While the 104th was her family, the 501st wasn’t. They didn’t know her and she didn’t want them to make assumptions before they did. Then there was the moral failing of sleeping with her patient. She would have to care for him and now she risked her position being compromised. Any care she gave him or any of his brothers would be scrutinized to make sure she wasn’t showing favoritism, misusing resources, or wasting GAR time. The upper management of the civilian volunteer force would descend on her like a pack of danchafs. And that was if they didn’t just discharge her.

And that, she thought, as her. stomach began to turn, would be unthinkable. This was supposed to be her chance to make things right. The 501st was where she was going to find answers. But now a single mistake threatened it all. 

For one weak moment, Mal wondered if there was still time to transfer back. She missed the 104th more than ever. Sinker would think this was hilarious and do that thing where he laughed so hard he snorted. Boost would roll his eyes. Mal let out a small sigh to herself. She needed that right now. She could even go for one of Crux’s lectures.

The mess hall was loud and crowded. It pulled her back to her surroundings and away from the spiral of her inner monologue. Kix checked in to make sure she was familiar. After she reassured him, he and Jesse took off for the dessert station.

She gathered her tray and got in line. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted over the soldiers, trying to find Wolffe’s scowl, even though she knew it was light years away. Instead, she found only unfamiliar, familiar faces. Protein cubes turned her stomach in a good day and today she almost retched as it was plopped onto her plate.

“Not a fan?” Tup asked, making her start. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her in line. “Can’t say they’re my favorite either.”

“I uh…” Mal grimaced as she tried to fix her face. “Yeah.”

“Look at it.” Tup poked at the jiggling block before he shot her a commiserating look. “We got real meals on Kamino. 'Bout the only thing I miss about that soggy planet. But you get used to ‘em.”

You get used to ‘em. Mal nodded. She thought about telling Tup that no matter how many GAR meals she ate, the protein cubes would always taste of metal ore to her. But she didn’t say it. She opened her mouth just to make sure she could.

Mal followed Tup over to the table where the four other clones were waiting for them. Kix and Jesse were arguing over something that sounded like a battle strategy but also could have been a drinking game. Tup sat next to Jesse, and as Mal slid onto the bench beside him, She found herself face-to-face with Fives again. He was still watching her carefully.  

 Her hope for answers, everything she was here to do could shatter right before her eyes. She shifted her jaw as her mind raced. She could do something. Mal had to do something. 

“I’ll grab water for the table.” She put her tray down. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

Fives raised an eyebrow at Mal as he hesitated, but curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

“Roger, roger.” He said as he stood, his umber eyes never leaving hers. 

For a moment, she hesitated, wilting in his dark look. Something in her wanted to make him laugh just so she could hear it again. Seconds passed and Mal felt the other three watching her curiously. She spun on her heels, and the table soon turned its attention and debate quickly pick back up. Fives was hot behind her, catching up to her pace in just a few strides. A moment of silence passed as Mal waited until she was out of earshot from the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Mal’s words were hushed, falling stuttered from her lips as she made her way across the mess with the ARC trooper. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.”

His low voice was right in her ear. Her breath hitched just a little as she realized how close he was.

She finally reached the water fountain. Mal took five cups from the stack piled on the counter and handed two of them to Fives. This gave her a moment to look at the man. He stood less than a foot away, one armored hip leaning up against the counter as he waited on her next move. Mal swallowed. He was so very close. The last time he had been this close, his lips had been pressed against her cheek. She blinked, pushing the memory away. 

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

“You made that very clear.”  

Fives’ voice was still low and it was becoming increasingly unfriendly. A part of her stung as she realized she never would have thought it came from the same relaxed, warm man who was in her apartment just hours ago. Focus, Mal thought to herself, You have to do this.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Mal started before Fives cut her off.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives’ tone returned to casual as he began to fill the glasses in his hands with water. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Despite his reassuring words, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d fucked up again. His attention never left the glasses and, after he finished, he took a wide step away, giving her plenty of space to fill her three cups. Mal walked silently back to their meals, several steps behind the clone. The men at the table had seemingly settled their debate, and decided to turn their attention to her.

“So you’re from the 104th, huh? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse asked as she sat back in her seat. “I bet he’s a big softie.”

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives scoffed at his brother as he slid him a cup of water.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned.

“Not with that lifetime ban from the Senate you won’t.” Kix prodded Jesse with an elbow to the side.

Jesse waved off his brothers as he turned back to her. Mal quickly began to stuff the protein cube into her mouth to avoid his questions, only retching a little at the taste.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

Mal coughed, choking on the gelatinous mouthful. 

“Jesse, shut the fuck up,” Kix ordered. 

Mal shot Kix a grateful smile as she carefully swallowed. She hadn’t spent long with Kix, but she had a feeling he didn’t take that tone with Jessie often. Jessie, for his part, suddenly found himself preoccupied with his protein cube, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

“So what planet are you from?” Tup asked, trying to find a more friendly topic.

Her stomach clenched. Another subject she wanted to avoid. Mal hadn’t considered that this new squad wouldn’t know her from Chancellor Palpatine. There was a privilege in not having to explain herself and it was gone now.

She weighed the answer for a moment.

“Takodana.” Mal finally answered truthfully.

Fives snorted. Mal’s eyes shot to him as she waited. He just shook his head. Then he paused for a moment before he lifted his eyes to hers.

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives looked at her for the first time since they had both sat down.

She held her breath for a moment. She watched as he frowned, deep in thought. While Fives was distracted, Jesse spotted an opportunity. He snatched the cake from Fives’ tray while the clone was frowning at Mal.

“Hey!” Fives swiped at air as he realized the theft.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse grinned at the ARC trooper. 

Mal sighed in relief as Fives also excused himself quickly after. She watched out of the corner of her as he walked away. He didn’t look back. The conversation devolved into brotherly harassment as the boys lost all interest in grilling the new girl.

Mal stayed through the meal and long enough for Kix to give her a digital tour of the Venator med bay, but soon he released her with praise for her first day that mostly involved how well she put up with Jesse, and instructions for reporting bright and early tomorrow. The 501st was shipping out again. 

It wasn’t until her apartment door slid shut behind her, Mal realized she had made it back to her apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had left it. The shadows seem longer, jutting out at strange angles, like the place wasn’t quite hers anymore. She didn’t bother to turn on the light as she dragged her body across the small studio, the city offering enough of its own through the windows. Mal stripped the jumpsuit from her body and threw herself into bed, exhausted emotionally and physically. Despite the tiredness that clung to her bones, she immediately sat back up. A spicy, sweet scent of whiskey, smoke, and heady sweat invaded her nostrils. It was Fives. He was still lingering on the sheets. 

She tossed for a few moments and tried to ignore it but, no matter what position she lay in, he followed her, his memory wrapped around her just as he had earlier that same day. She couldn’t escape it, no more than she could when she fumbled her greeting to him. She’d slept with one of the men she was supposed to protect, to help. Fraternization was specifically against the rules for civilians and GAR soldiers. She’d be discharged without a second thought. 

On the bedside table, the small Wolfpack pin glinted in the moonlight. She would fail Wolffe, Crux, and even Tye. And, worse, she would fail the twins. She turned again, but a new wave of Fives and a memory of his arms wrapping around her suddenly was suddenly all around her.

Mal huffed and threw the blankets back. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, sitting up. Mal hung her head, letting it fall to her palms for a moment. Too tired to change the sheets, she pulled her duvet behind her as she dragged herself to the chair. 

The nightmares came again that night.

Mal’s words were a bucket of ice down his spine. Cold and formal. He scanned her face but there was no hint of recognition. Fives reeled. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of calling her out. Nice to meet you? Did my dick give you amnesia? But then he thought about his vode. He didn’t need them to see this rejection. No, for all they knew he had a one-night stand who he left breathless and reeling and totally in love with him. He was going to keep it that way. For now.

“Likewise.” He finally settled on the curt reply.

“Come on,” Kix pushed forward, his mind on food as usual. “I’m starving.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was laughing at something Jessie had said, but he could see that she was watching him too. Probably scared he was going to air her dirty little secret. Tup noticed something was wrong right away. He shot Fives a look as they were swept up in the mess hall crowd. A wordless conversation passed between them. A look of concern. A shrug of unconcern. An eyebrow of skepticism. A smile of reassurance. 

Relax, Fives reminded himself. Time to watch and see how this plays out. Think like an ARC. 

He piled his tray with fortified protein and settled into the table with his friends but no sooner than he had sat down, his eyes found her again. 

Mal trailed behind Tup. She shifted as she walked. A wiggle of her fingers, a soft clench and unclench of her jaw, a slight roll of her neck. It was like she was taking roll call of her body. A red curl escaped her hair tie and hung down over her eyes. She glanced at it and huffed, blowing it to the side. She glared at the errant lock as it fell back into her face, the dusting of freckles on her nose wrinkling. Tup led her to their table, sliding in next to Jesse, leaving enough room for Mal next to him, and right across from Fives.

She didn’t seem to realize where she was sitting until she was almost at his eye level. Finally, her jeweled orbs met his. Mal blinked as she stared at him for a moment. He tried to hold her emerald stare. Why, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to go grab water for the table.” She quickly announced to the table before she turned back to him. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

The hesitancy was a nice touch. Smart. Fives raised an eyebrow as he considered her invitation. Half of him wanted to reject her immediately, but he wanted to see where this was going.

“Roger, roger.” He rose, stepping over the bench to follow her. 

Fives trailed behind her, watching as other clones turned, sometimes slowly and others obviously, and elbowed each other when they took notice of her. He couldn’t blame them, but a frown still snuck across his face. The gray jumpsuit with its long blue stripes along the seams swallowed up most civilian medics, but hers gently hugged her curves, showing the lines of her body that he had traced just hours ago. Luckily, before his mind could wander too far, Mal tilted her face up towards him. She had waited until they were out of earshot of the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Her voice was quiet. Something about that irritated him even more. There wasn’t even anyone else around and she was still scared of being noticed with him. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.” Fives thought it was a measured response.

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

She wasn’t wrong. Fraternizing with civilian members of the GAR was strictly forbidden. He didn’t think Rex would care, and Skywalker… well that was a more unpredictable reaction, but he suspected the General would look the other way. Clones trapped under lesser Jedi would be at risk of reassignment or worse. Still, that didn’t excuse her and Fives pulled no punches with his tone.

“You made that very clear.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” She started.

Mal shifted under his blazing look. Fives decided that, whatever was coming next, he wasn’t going to hear it. She didn’t get to apologize to him. He didn't want it and he didn't need it. 

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives kept his voice as even as he could as he turned to start filling up water glasses. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He turned back to the table, spilling water over his hands in the rush. He told himself to slow down. Breathe. He wasn’t going to let her ruin his mood. Ruin this day. Fuck that and fuck her.

He could sense Mal as she scurried behind him, trying to keep up with his long steps. They rejoined the table. Fives debated moving down next to Tup. He looked up at her again and she wilted under his stare. No, he decided. He was going to have to get used to this. His vode started in on her as soon as they got back to the table. Fives felt a flare of annoyance. 

“So you’re from the 104th? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse jumped at the new girl. “I bet he’s actually a big softie.”

Fives snorted at Jesse, half-tempted to throw his water to him instead of pass it.

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives rolled his eyes. 

It was only last month that Fives had to go get Jesse from the base prison. Fox had glared out at him under hooded eyes, and stood still with crossed arms as Fives tried to bargain for Jesse’s release.  He knew that Fox knew that Fives had been involved with the plot to steal the Corrie Guard’s mastiff for the night, but that, unlike Jesse, they hadn’t been able to catch him. Eventually, Fox wordlessly punched a fist into a button, releasing Jesse from his cell, and then, with a single pointed finger, directed them both out of the brig. Fives wasn’t looking forward to the next time their paths crossed.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned, undeterred by the same memory.

“Not with that lifetime ban from all Senate buildings you won’t.” Kix prodded him with an elbow to the side.

Fives shook his head. He thought they had gotten away with their failed prank as they crawled back into their bunks, trying to get an hour of sleep before roll call. His eyes had just started to drift closed when Rex burst into the barracks, erupting and swinging his datapad at them. Somewhere in the scramble away from his momentarily deranged captain, he learned that Rex had woken up to several colorful messages informing him that Fox had banned Fives and Jesse from all Coruscant Guard-held spaces for life. It had taken twenty minutes and the promise of latrine duty for two weeks to soothe the Captain.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

“Jesse, shut the fuck up.” Kix snapped in a warning tone he rarely took with Jesse. Fives’ eyes flashed to Kix. Interesting. He was protective of his new medic already.

“What planet are you from?” Tup said mildly, carefully changing the subject.

“Takodana.” 

Fives snorted. A hick from a rural backwater planet. Then he heard it. Takodana. Fives’ spine stiffened at a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. That sounded familiar. He knew a lot of planets at this point. Ones he’d been to and ones he hadn’t. But there was something about that name that tugged on some recollection or information buried somewhere deep in his databanks of training. 

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives finally let his eyes meet hers again.

Her beryl eyes widened and he watched as a flash of fear rippled across her face. It was gone in the next second. He might have even imagined it. He wanted to dwell on it, to hold the moment and tear it open until he understood, but a motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

“Hey!” He said, as Jesse snatched his cake from his tray.

Fives tried to swipe out to grab it but it was too late. His vod planted his fork into the stolen dessert.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse stuck his tongue out at Fives with a victorious wink.

Fives shook his head at Jesse and waved his hand in surrender. 

“Savor it, vod.” He forced a laugh as he stood. “See you all later.”

Leaving the suffocating din of the mess hall behind, Fives followed a familiar path to Rex’s office. The durasteel hallways were empty while everyone was at dinner, and the only sound was the rhythmic echo of his boots against the floor. Usually, Fives appreciated these quiet moments alone. He loved his brothers, and he knew he could be as loud as any of them, but moments where he could hear himself think were precious and far apart when in an army of millions.  There was nothing solitary about this moment, though. His thoughts marched beside him, louder than the clang of his footsteps, with memories as all-consuming as the vacuum of space. It wasn’t until Fives reached Rex’s door that he snapped out of the deep trance. There were voices on the other side.

The blast door slid open just as Fives raised his hand to knock. He stepped back to let General Skywalker and General Kenobi walk out.

“Hello there, Fives,” Kenobi greeted him as Anakin nodded.

“Evening, Generals.” He saluted the Jedi. “Commander Tano.”

The Togruta followed behind the Masters, buzzing with an excitement that Fives knew could only mean a new mission.

“Be nice to Rex,” Ahsoka winked at Fives and he felt his icy mood melt just a little. Ahsoka’s good moods were infectious around the 501st. When she was happy, they all tended to be. “He just spent two hours trying to rein in Skyguy's battle plans.”

Her master shot a look of annoyance at the padawan and the clone before he chuckled and shrugged.

“She’s not wrong.” Anakin flashed a brazen grin at the ARC trooper.

“I’m shocked, General.” Fives smiled back before he turned to Ahsoka with a wink of his own. “And when have I ever been mean to Rex?”

All three Jedi laughed at that.

“Have a good evening, Fives.” Anakin bowed his head before the three Jedi turned back to their journey, likely back to the Temple.

“You too, Sirs.”

Fives stepped into the dark office space. Rex sat at his desk, massaging his temples, as he frowned at a holomap glowing in the dim light.

“Tano and Kenobi act like Skywalker’s the crazy one, but they’re all just as bad.” Rex groaned, not looking up at Fives. 

“We’ll make the most of their plans and take whatever the Seppies throw at us.” Fives settled into one of the chairs across from Rex. “You know that, Captain.”

“Of course,” Rex pressed his thumb to a button on his desk, and the holomap disappeared. The lights returned to the room, and he leaned back into his chair, taking on the quiet calm that came from being alone with an old friend. 

“How’d the debrief with the council go yesterday?” Fives asked. He didn’t want Rex to think he rushed in here to ask about Mal. 

“As well as expected,” Rex grumbled. “Most were supportive. A couple of them tried to press me. Didn’t got over well with me or General Skywalker though.”

“We saved the galaxy from one of Dooku’s pawns, and there's Jedi out there pushing back against us?”

“Just a one or two. General Billaba had some hard questions.”

“Billaba's been out of the fight too long. I know she went through it after Haruun Kal, but to be questioning us? That's kark, sir.” Fives crossed his arms. "She just got that seat back anyways."

“They’re allowed to ask questions. It was certainly a… unique situation.”

“Well, if you need someone to take out another Jedi…”

“That’s not funny, Fives. You’re just dying to get that court martial.” 

“I was going to suggest Tup.” Fives wiggled his brows.

“Di’kut.” Rex muttered under his breath as his eyes shot upward.

Fives chuckled, enjoying the little victory of pulling an eye roll from Rex.

“The briefing’s not why you’re here, though.” Rex’s serious look melted into a wry smile. “What’s on your mind, Fives?”

Fives sighed. He never could keep anything from Rex. Maybe it was because they were brothers, or maybe it was because Rex had known him since he was a shiny on his first mission. Sometimes, he suspected it was because he was similar to Rex in ways the older clone would never admit. Whatever it was, Rex could tell he wasn’t just in his office for a nightcap.

“The new medic… what’s her deal?” Fives asked, hoping his voice was more neutral than he felt.

“Amal Darroch?” Rex raised an eyebrow at him. “Comes highly decorated and recommended from the 104th. Took everything I had to pry her from Wolffe.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he hung up on me the first three times I asked.” Rex chuckled to himself. Fives sometimes forgot that Rex was a younger brother too.

“We need medics that bad?” Fives frowned.

“Not just medics. We need the best medics.” Then Rex eyed the arc trooper. “Come on, you know that better than anyone. Kix is ready to ban you from the medbay.”

Fives tried to smile at the joke but found it refused to come. Instead, he kept thinking about Mal.

“And she’s the best?” 

“What’s on your mind, Fives?” Rex repeated. “You’re usually not this shy about sharing.”

“Dunno…” She’s hiding something. Maybe multiple things. He wanted to shout it, grab Rex by the shoulders and shake him until he could see what Fives saw, but instead, he hesitated. They did need medics, and they needed good ones. If she was that good, his brothers would be better off with her around. “Just have some questions about her, is all.”

“Well, I’m here if you need anything.” Rex reached for his datapad, sensing the conversation was over. “Just try not to kill her or kriff her.”

Fives finally forced a laugh as he stood with a small salute.

“Roger, roger.”

Fives shut the door behind him, leaving Rex to his plans. The silent hallways that lined his path back to the barracks were even louder on his return route. Mal’s face swam before him. A flash of her laugh and the parting of her full lips melted into the image of her stoic greeting. And if she was hiding this, what else was she hiding? Why did a civilian join the war when most of them prefered to stay safe on their cities and planets far from the battle lines? What game was she playing here? This wasn’t a game to him. This was his life and his brothers’ lives. He thought of how she shifted in her seat at the mention of Takodana. There was no doubt about it. Mal was hiding more than just their night together, and Fives would have to keep an eye on her until he found out what it was.

…

Her paddle sliced through the inky glass of the water with the precision of a beskar blade. She quickly lifted the wooden tool, letting the canoe propel forward with the smallest wake. Despite the exactness of her strokes, Mal never looked down. Instead, she frowned at the horizon. It was dark and the air still held the wet chill of the night before it turns to dew, but the midnight blue at the very edges of the sky had started to pale, a sure sign that she had stayed too long. She wasn’t late. Not yet. But she paddled with a speed that she hadn’t practiced in a long time. Her shoulders ached, muscles that had long been forgotten in the mines, called out in protest of her neglect but she never winced or paused. 

She stepped out into the shallows without a splash and pulled the boat into the overgrown shore where she covered it in the browning large leaves and the ivy, damp from yesterday’s rain. Mal wiped the soil on her palms along the edges of her poncho before she reached a hand into the bag at her side. She felt the delicate petals of the nysillin and finally let her shoulders fall from her ears.

The path was overgrown, disused in the last year since the Mining Guild came, but she knew it by heart. Her feet led on as she scanned the dark underbrush, one hand on her blaster and the other one on her bag. 

She’d only made a few steps into the dark woods when a sound made her stop. Someone or something had coughed. In a flash, she pulled her blaster from her hip, gripping it at the ready as she scanned the trees. 

“How did I know I’d find you still here?”

Her eyes finally landed on the source of the sound. Leaning against a large oak a few yards up the path was a tall man, his muscled arms crossed in front of his broad chest, cutting a stern profile in the shadow of the woods. Her eyes focused on the shape and, in the last throes of starlight, she began to make out a familiar profile.

“Couldn’t help me with the boat, huh?” Mal raised an eyebrow as she lowered her blaster.

“As I recall, last time I tried to help you with the boat, you hit me with an oar.” The sandy-haired man gave a small sideways smile and for a brief moment, she recognized the boy she grew up with.

She snorted, “I forgot about that.” She watched the smile evaporate from his face and the boy she knew was gone and replaced with a soldier. Before she could wonder if he something similar had passed through his mind, she let her eyes fall to her side as she lowered her weapon. “I could have shot you.”

“You probably should’ve.” Niall’s tone was suddenly stern. “But you’re still too slow on the trigger.”

“I’m cautious,” she bit back. Mal walked past the shadow.

“Not cautious enough. What are you still doing out here?”

Mal sighed, stopping to let him catch up to her. They walked side-by-side but they both carefully watched the woods around them as they went, blasters still drawn.

“Which one?” Even though she knew the answer.

“Taron, of course.” Niall tutted, knowing she knew.

“He shouldn’t have worried you.”

“What if Aavia was out here? You know she senses these things. She wouldn’t think twice before killing you and your brothers just for fun.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Mal snapped. “She’s not even planet side. I checked.”

“Still a risk.”

“I needed nysillin.” She stopped short as a tree swayed, but it was only the wind. “Maz hasn’t been able to get anything through the blockade in weeks.”

“Well that’s up to me to worry about.” Niall turned to her and reached out. He gripped her shoulders a little too hard. “Mal, your Da told me to keep you out of this fight.”

“That’s not his decision anymore, is it?” She took a step back as she shrugged.

The step back became a step forward and then another until she fell through the familiar wood doorway.

A pair of green eyes met her. Taron was sitting at the table with his blaster trained at the door. She didn’t have time to wonder where Cadex was. The door shut behind her and she knew if she turned, the other twin would be behind with his own blaster.

“You’re late.” Taron snapped with all the angst of a teenager as Cadex threw the bolt with a click. 

Mal tossed the nysillin on the table before she sprang forward to take advantage of her sitting brother. She ran a hand through his hair, something that always drove him crazy, but was much harder now that he was taller than her.

Taron scoffed and quickly flattened his red locks back down.

“Stop, you’re so annoying.” Taron huffed.

“That was stupid.” Cadex frowned, circling around the table to lecture her. “You cut it too close.”

Mal knew it wouldn’t help his mood, but she smiled as Cadex crossed his arms. He was doing his best impression of Jonan Darroch, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Okay, Da.” she giggled.

Mal blinked and then started, laughter dying in her lips.

Where Cadex had been standing, Jonan Darroch now stood. Where their house had been, the town center had filled in the gaps, leaking through the floorboards like quicksand, pulling their house down to reveal only gray stone and boarded-up shops. Mal knew what came next. A red lightsaber already glowed in her Da's belly.

“You were supposed to protect them.” Da’s voice filled the square and echoed off the cobblestone as it filled her ears, his face contorting as his last breath twisted his words into a piercing shriek.

Jonan Darroch, a tall blue woman stepped out, letting the man collapse to the ground as she drew back her blade. Mal watched as her Da crumbled, lifeless. She tried to run to him, to scream for help, but she found herself frozen. Again.

Aavia smirked, her red eyes sparkling with a cruel mirth. Behind her, the twins stood still, arms behind their backs. She forgot how much taller Taron was now. When she looked up at him, she could see the emerald lodes running out from his dark pupils. 

Not irises. Veins. She could see the veins of the leaves, even on the gray day. Rivers of water ran along its creased center and fell off in heavy droplets onto her face. Aavia’s gleeful voice cut the patter of the rain.

“And you called me a murderer.”

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 9

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.2k Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence; animal attack and pretty detailed description of killing an animal in self-defense; heavy drinking; 1 mention of underage drinking; Echo needs a hug; Fives would love Chappell Roan, I will not take any criticism on that; Rex gets jelly; some angst and fluff; am i coming out through this fanfic? maybe, don't tell my family; implied emetophobia

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k'uur -  Hush, Be quiet osik - crap, shit Ori'haat - It's the truth, I swear - no bull Di’kut - idiot Vod’ika - little brother, little sister Vode – brothers, sisters Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? - Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?

~~~

Lexie was running through the thick forest on the planet Garronn, Fives and Echo close behind her. Her feet were aching and the humid air was making it difficult to keep her breathing under control. They had just been on Felucia a few rotations before this mission and Lexie cursed the fact that they’ve left one jungle planet just to end up on another one.

They needed to reach the pick-up point and they needed to reach it fast if there was any hope of escaping this kriffin’ world during this rotation. There was no telling when another extraction team could get there, the 104th could not remain in the Garro system too long, they were lucky enough as it was they had been close enough to contact in the first place.

The whole mission had been such a shitshow. The lead they were chasing turned out to be a complete bust, Cad Bane had not chosen the Force-sensitive youngling on Garronn as his target. Or maybe Anakin had already intercepted him on Naboo, or he’d been apprehended by Obi-Wan on Rodia. Lexie had no way of knowing, their long-range comms had been scrambled since the moment they landed on the planet.

Lexie did however encounter a small Separatist presence the Republic had not been aware of and, without guidance from the Council, she and the men made the decision to destroy the outpost by themselves. A decision she deeply regretted about now, as they were trying to escape the commando droids chasing them through the jungle. Another bad call as a general.

She really was grateful that Anakin had insisted she took some troopers with her when they split up but, in hindsight, she should’ve listened to him and taken an entire squad with her, it could have made things a bit easier. She doubted she would’ve made it out of that outpost if it wasn’t for Fives and Echo’s assists and she also would not have a way off of this planet had Echo not managed to highjack the outpost comms and contact the 104th.

They really were good, she could finally see why Rex was so proud of the two troopers. This was the first missions where they had worked so closely together, she realised.

“How much left?”, Lexie yelled over her shoulder.

“Two klicks Sir”, Echo’s helmet modulated voice responded.

“I think we lost them”, Fives announced, glancing behind him.

“Finally some good kriffin news”, she said.

The three of them came to an abrupt halt as they reached a steep ravine.

“Fastest route is through down there”, Lexie said after checking the holo-map, and motioned for the two troopers to go on.

The men started the descent before her, Lexie staying on top to make sure the droids would not catch up with them again. Suddenly she felt a shift in the Force and her senses were flooded by an urgent feeling of dread. Her troopers were in danger.

“Echo!”, she heard Fives scream as she jumped down into the ravine, using the Force to control her fall.

As soon as she landed she pulled out her lightsabers, igniting the yellow blades. Fives was shooting his blaster at a massive serpent-like creature, but she couldn’t see Echo anywhere. She looked through the Force, she could feel him, he was still alive, but where? She looked at Fives for an answer. She felt anger, fear and sadness surround his Force signature.

“That thing ate him!”, Fived yelled.

Her head snapped back to the creature and she recognised the species. Garronnian serpent, thank the Force. They swallow their prey whole and digest it over the course of 10 rotations. Once they ingest their prey, though, they become a lot more aggressive. The serpent lunged at her as she attempted to run towards it and she had to jump out of the way. She had to find a way get close to it in order to get Echo out.

“Try and keep it distracted”, she told Fives.

Fives started yelling and moving his hands around, getting the serpent to switch its focus to him. Lexie closed her eyes and tried to locate where Echo was in its body, she had to be careful not to injure him as she tried to get him out. Her mind scanned over the creature and she quickly knew where to cut.

“General…”, Fives’ concerned voice pleaded for her help.

The creature was towering over him, jaw wide open as it prepared to launch an attack. Lexie swiftly jumped in front of Fives using the saber in her left hand to slash vertically into the creature’s belly. The serpent spluttered, moving frantically before hitting the ground. A green, slimy liquid poured from the evisceration site, drenching Lexie and Fives. The smell was absolutely repugnant.

“Help me get him out”, Lexie yelled at Fives as she tried to resist gagging. 

The two rushed to the now dead serpent. They could already see Echo’s hand coming out through the gash and Fives hurried to pull his brother all the way out while Lexie used the Force to widen the opening. Fives fell backwards with Echo landing on top of him as he was finally yanked free from the serpent’s belly. Lexie rushed to them, helping them back to their feet.

“Are you good, vod?”, Fives asked.

Echo slowly nodded and took off his helmet. He was also covered in the slimy liquid and looked extremely nauseous. Lexie’s stomach turned as she watched him gag.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw up”, she warned him. Both men gave her a confused look. “If you throw up, I will throw up. And if you make me throw up I will kill you, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sir”, Echo struggled to respond.

“Put that helmet back and let’s get the kriff out of here before any more of those things show up”, she said through gritted teeth, trying not to gag herself. The smell was undeniably foul.

The 104th was forced to move out of the sector earlier than expected, but fortunately Master Plo Koon was able to spare two pilots and a Nu-class shuttle in order to extract and transport Lexie, Echo and Fives back to Coruscant. It unfortunately meant that they were not able to properly clean the serpent guts off of themselves for the duration of the flight, something that prompted Warthog to not so politely ban all three of them from entering the cockpit.

Lexie was leaned forward on her seat, elbows resting on her thighs, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her fingernails as her mind darted over the last rotations. She had made so many mistakes. Again. From their ship getting blown up by the Seppies, to the failed attempt at destroying the outpost and barely making it out alive, to the damn encounter with that giant serpent, it seemed that every single decision she had made during this mission had been the wrong one. All the confidence in herself that Rex had been helping her build over the last months was rapidly starting to crumble.

“Are you alright, General?”, Echo asked her.

He was sat across from her, helmet rested on his lap. Next to him Fives appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and head leaned back, his helmet discarded on the floor by his feet. They had barely slept since landing on Garronn, so she was surprised to see Echo was awake.

“Yeah I’m just… replaying the mission in my head”, she said quietly.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of masking her emotions. But he had also been getting really good at picking up on her distress over the last few months and was almost as skilled as Rex when it came to encouraging or comforting her.

“We got out alive, that’s all that matters”, he tried to reassure her.

“Barely. I almost got you two killed”, she retorted.

“We all agreed to destroy the outpost. Yes, we should’ve done some more recon first but we still needed to infiltrate it regardless, to comm for the extraction if nothing else”.

“Yeah well, an infiltration mission is completely different. And something I could have done myself without putting you two at risk. I just think Rex will be very disappointed with my decision making”. She regretted that last part as soon as she said it. Why would she admit to thinking about him, to caring about his opinion in front of Echo, in front of anyone?

“Like you could ever do anything wrong in his eyes”, Fives piped up. Turns out he wasn’t sleeping after all even if his eyes were still closed.

“What do you mean?”, Lexie asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean he basically idolises you. Won’t shut up about what a great Jedi and general you are. It’s always General Khalla this, General Khalla that. It’s a bit annoying sometimes actually”, he said, opening his eyes to look at her, a sly smile on his face.

“Fives, k'uur!”, Echo interjected, giving his brother a look. He and the others all believed the Captain had a crush on Lexie, but straight up letting her know about it wasn’t right.

“What? you know it’s true”, Fives defended, looking at Echo before turning his head back to Lexie. “Even after that first mission when everyone jumped to the worst conclusions he held firm. Would immediately shift the conversation to how you saved his life on Geonosis. All I’m saying is you shouldn’t worry about disappointing him, he thinks everything you do is perfect”.

Lexie just started at him for a moment, unsure of how she could even reply to all that. She decided to laugh it off, but she kept thinking about it for the remainder of their flight. Was it true? Had she somehow tricked Rex into thinking she was this perfect Jedi? She felt guilt creeping inside her. No one should ever idolise her, she wasn’t good enough, she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to warrant that in the slightest. She will end up letting him down, just like she let down her master, like she let down Anakin on Geonosis, like she let down her mother…

The sun had set right before the three arrived back at the barracks. As they walked away from the landing platform and into the hangar, Lexie could see the clones close by scrunching their noses and turning away from them in reaction to the rancid, rotting smell that was very much still covering the trio. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower and change her clothes. A thought came into her head, wondering if she’d even be able to get the smell out of her clothes or if she should just burn them.

“I need a fucking drink”, Lexie mumbled.

Echo and Fives were right behind and heard her. The two exchanged a look, a question and an answer wordlessly being communicated between them.

“Do you want to come to the 79s with us, Sir?”, Fives asked.

Lexie stopped and turned to look at them, gauging to see if it was a genuine invitation or something they were saying out of obligation. The impropriety of the situation briefly flashed through her mind before it was quickly dismissed. They had already had drinks together, a bit over a month ago in the fresher while Echo dyed her hair, as well as the following day. But she had not been back at the 79s since that night when she first met them. Were the other Jedi going out drinking with their troopers? What would her Master think?

Kriff it.

“I’d like that. After I take like 10-15 showers though”, she replied with a chuckle.

“Agreed”, Echo laughed. “Should we meet outside the barracks in an hour then, General?”

 “Sounds good. But I do have one condition”, she said looking both men in the eye. “You drop the banthashit formalities and call me Lexie”.

Echo nodded and smiled. Fives draped an arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking, heading to the lifts.

 “More than happy to, Lexie”, he said with a grin.

The 79s was not as crowded as the first time Lexie had been there. But then again, it was still fairly early. She knew for a fact a lot of the men from the 501st were just about now finishing running drills, supervised by Rex. She had asked Appo where everyone was after she, Echo and Fives ran into him by the lifts, and he had informed them of the training session that was supposed to run until at least 20:00 hours. The sergeant declined to get into the same lift as them, for obvious reasons.

Lexie thought about stopping by the training level to say hello to Rex, but that was not something she should do while still covered in rancid serpent slime. She hoped she’d have time before heading to the cantina, but she had spent so long washing, and rewashing every part of her body, she had actually been 15 minutes late meeting the boys in front of the barracks as planned. She had thrown on a long-sleeved black tulle dress with black velvet flowery patters and spent a little too long on her eyeliner. Her blue hair was left untied, still a little damp from the shower. But she could swear she still had not gotten the smell out…

She followed Echo and Fives to an empty booth a bit further away from the bar. There were still plenty to choose from, both on the ground floor they were on and upstairs, so Lexie concluded this must be where they usually sit. Echo slid in first, followed by Fives and lastly her. She spotted “501” scratched into one corner of the table and decided she had been correct. She chuckled as she noticed a crossed out “104” right above it, and another, smaller one, also crossed out, on the other corner. On the leg of the table she could also see a few crossed out “212s”, “41s” and also “501s”.

 “The seating situation is a little tricky here. There’s a bit of a passive-aggressive war between the battalions over certain tables”, Echo informed her, having noticed her chuckle.

“Yeah, this is one of the best ones, cause it’s bigger and you have a really good view of the dancefloor. So it’s the preferred location for checking out all the ladies before making a move”, Fives continued. Lexie laughed and Echo shook his head in amusement.

“So what are we starting with? Shots?”, Echo asked, bringing his hands in front of him in a slow clap.

“Shots are good”, Lexie said.

 Fives signalled one of the droid waitresses and ordered three rounds of shots for the table. Since the cantina was still fairly empty it didn’t take long until a tray of small glasses was placed on the table in front of them. The liquid inside was bright orange.

“Care to make a toast, Lexie? Since it’s your first proper night out with us”, Fives said while nudging her slightly with his elbow.

She thought for a second then raised one of the shot glasses.

“Here’s to Echo not being eaten by a giant snake ever again”, she said with a teasing smile, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’ll kriffin drink to that”, Echo replied only half-amused.

They clinked the glasses and threw back the shots. The sweet, fruity liqueur slowly slid down Lexie’s throat, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. She didn’t remember having this type of shot before and made a mental note of the name. They drank the second and third shot soon after, the warmth of the liqueur intensifying in her throat.

“So what do you boys usually drink when you come here?”, she asked them.

“Tevraki whiskey or ale”, Echo replied.

 “But we can wait and order more drinks later. Don’t want you getting too drunk on us, Lexie”, Fives said teasingly.

“Honey I am Seccayan. I can drink you under the table”, Lexie scoffed.

 “I’d like to see you try”, Fives said, turning his body so he could face her better.

“Is that a dare?”, she asked, feeling her competitive nature bubble up to the surface.

“Yes”.

 “Aright. You’re on”.

 Echo shook his head in amused disbelief.

“Alright. Well, we need some ground rules. We have to drink the same amount of drinks, at least a minimum, it’s not fair otherwise, like if you only have one-two more the rest of the night while I have five”.

“I agree. Let’s settle on a minimum number then”

“Let’s say seven”, Fives said after a second of thinking.

“Seven? That’s all? Honey I had seven glasses of Secca wine when I was 9 years old and left unsupervised during a wedding reception. That is nothing”.

“Then it should be no issue”, he said with a sly smile, while gesturing for the droid to come take their order again. “Three glasses of Tevraki whiskey, and make them double”.

“I did not agree to be part of your alcohol poisoning game”, Echo said as the droid left.

 “Then you can keep count for us”, Lexie said with a smile. Echo shook his head with a laugh.

The droid returned with their drinks and they clinked them again before each taking a sip. The warmth of the whiskey was stronger than the shots had been, spreading through her entire body. The taste wasn’t too bad, very bitter-sweet. It wasn’t her favourite drink but she didn’t hate it either.

Two glasses of Tevraki later, Lexie began to feel the buzz of alcohol, and found herself laughing and talking louder than before. She really enjoyed being in the company of Echo and Fives, both men had a great sense of humour, Echo’s a bit drier, and conversation was flowing smoothly.

“You cannot shorten an already shortened name”, Lexie told Fives with frustration.

 “Yes I can. Lex”, he had been calling her that for the past 20 minutes. “It’s a form of endearment”, he said with a sweet smile.

“But Lexie is already short for Alexis. You can't just shorten it even more”.

“Yes I can”, he said stubbornly, tilting her head towards hers.

“Ok fine! That's it. Five. That ‘s’ in your name? Revoked. You're just five now”, she said, throwing her hands into the air in an exaggerated movement.

“Fine by me, Lex”, Fives said. Echo was quietly laughing at them.

“There you lot are”, a voice came from outside their booth.

 Lexie turned her head and saw Jesse, Kix and Hardcase. They seemed surprised to find her there, offering her respectful nods and an almost collective “General” greeting.

Jesse sat down next to her, while the other two slid in next to Echo, who had to shift more to the centre of the u-shaped bench. This caused Fives to shift closer than actually needed to Lexie, pressing his arm into hers. He wasn’t wearing the upper part of his armor so she could feel the firm muscles under his blacks.

She didn’t mind, the two of them had been getting a little flirtier with each other as they kept drinking, but it was just in good fun. She wasn’t going to let anything actually happen, but she did plan on enjoying the flirty banter for longer.

“When did you return from your mission, General?”, Kix asked her.

“Oh, no no. We’re not doing the ‘General’ osik tonight. Call me Lexie. All of you”, she said as she looked at the three new additions to their table. They nodded and smiled in agreement. “We got back a few hours ago. Had to head straight for the showers before coming here. It was not a fun mission”.

“Yeah, Echo got eaten by a snake”, Fives quipped.

“He what?”, Hardcase asked laughing.

“Ori'haat”, Fives said.

“Can we not talk about it? It was actually really kriffin traumatising”, Echo said a little defensively.

“Aww don’t worry vod’ika. You can sleep in my bunk if you get scared during the night”, Fives teased, leaning closer to his brother and ruffling his hair with a hand.

“Kriff off, Fives”, Echo said, shoving him away. The sudden movement made Fives slam against Lexie’s side, pushing her into Jesse, who was in his full kit.

“Boys, come on. Not wearing armor here”, she said with a laugh, rubbing her right arm.

 “Sorry, Lexie”, Echo said.

“Nice going di'kut”, Fives said, smacking the back of Echo’s head.

 “Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?”, Echo threatened.

 “Okay”, Lexie said lifting from her seat and placing her hands on the table, employing the same tone of voice she used when breaking up disagreements between rowdy younglings at the Temple. “Kix switch with Echo”, she ordered. The two men shuffled awkwardly and switched places. Kix was now placed as a buffer between Fives and Echo.

 “Now… more shots?”, Lexie asked sitting back down.

  “More shots”, Fives agreed with a smile.

Two rounds of shots were ordered for the entire table. Laughter and loud conversation followed. Lexie’s cheeks were starting to be flushed from the alcohol and she rolled up the sleeves of her dress. Hardcase was complaining loudly about all the drills Rex had them run that day and Lexie fought against the urge to ask where he was now and if he was planning on joining them at the 79s. From what she could gather, he was either with Cody, or planned to meet him. Another glass of whiskey was placed in front of her by Fives.

 Her attention was caught by Jesse, who reached over her to nudge Fives and pointed in the direction of the bar. A tall, purple-skinned Twi'lek woman was leaning over the bar, trying to get the attention of the server. Her lekku was covered with strings of sparkling yellow beads that perfectly complemented the bandeau top and short skirt she was wearing. She was stunning.

 Fives wolf-whistled. “I wouldn’t mind going home with her tonight”.

“You and me both”, Lexie accidentally said out loud before taking a sip from her drink.

 Fives and Jesse’s heads quickly snapped from the woman to look at her, an expression of surprise on their faces. On the other side of the table she saw Hardcase tilting his head in confusion, having stopped mid-sentence in his story about one of the training simulations.

“What? I’m bi”, she said nervously. She took a bigger sip of her drink, realisation hitting her that she had never said that out loud to anyone before.

She could practically see the wheels turning in their heads and she rolled her eyes. Men.

Jesse let out a “huh” sound and raised his eyebrows a little. She turned her head to look at Fives. You didn’t even need to be Jedi in order to tell exactly what was going on inside his head, his wide eyes and the stupid grin on his face were doing all the talking.

 “I will not have a threesome with you, do not even ask”, she told him.

 “I thought you said you couldn’t read our minds”, he quipped.

“I don’t kriffin’ need to, nor want to. Whatever thoughts are running through your horny man brain right now just keep them to yourself”, she said gesturing to his head. “That goes for all of you”, she continued, turning to look at Jesse then at Hardcase and Kix, who also had a little surprised smile in the corner of his lips. She was glad to know at least Echo didn’t care about it. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well do you want to have a go at it, Lexie, or could I?”, Jesse asked with a chuckle.

“Considering she came to a clone bar by herself I don’t think I’d get anywhere but thanks for asking”, she replied with a laugh.

“Maybe we should let Echo have a go. We still need to get him laid”, Hardcase said, elbowing Echo in the ribs.

Echo looked uncomfortable and shot Hardcase a pointed look while nursing his side. Lexie was about to open her mouth to tell Hardcase to mind his business, but Fives beat her to it.

 “No we don’t. Echo doesn’t want that”, he stood up for his brother.

 “Why?”, Hardcase asked confused.

 “I’m just not into that”, Echo said firmly.

 Lexie caught his eyes and gave him an encouraging smile.

 “Well, less competition for us then”, Jesse shrugged before he got up from the booth and started making his way over to the Twi'lek woman.

“Be respectful and use protection”, Lexie yelled after him, making him turn to give her a look. She and Fives started laughing.

 The 79s was more crowded now, and loud music had replaced the pod racing that was being shown on the holoscreens when they had arrived. The alcohol in her system was making her sway with the music. How many drinks had she even drunk so far? Eight? She downed the remaining liqueur in her glass and leaned more into Fives’ side.

 “Kinda wish I was dancing”, she mumbled.

“We could go dancing”, Fives said, tilting his head towards her.

“We could go dancing!”, Lexie repeated with a grin, meeting his eyes.

She and Fives got up and started heading to the fairly crowded dance floor. She paused and turned gesturing for the others to come as well. Hardcase didn’t waste any time to get up from his seat but Kix and Echo declined, saying they would join later.

The music was loud and energetic and Lexie started moving with the beat. It had been too long since she’d gone dancing she realised, not since before Geonosis. She loved it, she loved moving with the music and singing along with the songs she knew. It felt reinvigorating. She felt confident when dancing, even if she wasn’t sure she was too good at it. But she had drunk enough not to worry at all about how she looked.

She was dancing next to Fives and Hardcase, and were soon joined by Jesse, who had not had any luck with the Twi'lek woman. After two songs she walked back to the booth and dragged Echo and Kix out and to the dancefloor.

Echo was a surprisingly good dancer she discovered, always on rhythm. Hardcase tended to move a bit too fast regardless of the pace of the song. Jesse had draped an arm across Kix’s shoulder, trying to get the medic to unwind a bit more and jump up and down with him. He then placed his other arm over Lexie’s shoulder and the three of them jumped around to the song. Fives was also a good dancer, but he kept “accidentally” bumping into her every now and then; at one point he took her arm and twirled her.

The next song was one that she knew and really liked and so she started singing along to the lyrics. Fives apparently knew the song too and joined in. The two of them were facing each other, all smiles as they sang along. But baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side/Can't be a good, good girl even if I tried.

Fives stepped closer to her, he knew the song, he was waiting for his moment. I really want your hands on my body/A slow dance, baby, let's get it on. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. Lexie laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was getting bolder, but she was enjoying it.

Fives pulled here even closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. Lexie instinctively moved against the plastoid of his codpiece, causing him to sharply inhale at the small friction. She should stop, things were getting a bit too heated. But she really was having so much fun.

She rotated herself so that her back was now pressed against his chest, but his hands were still on her hips, swaying them with the music. She raised her arm up and behind her, hand resting on the back of Fives’ head, fingers grasping his hair. She felt his hot breath on the side of her neck as he lowered his head closer to hers. The song ended but they continued dancing in the same position for the next one as well.

“I think we’re in trouble”, he said in her ear before jerking his head towards their table.

Kix and Hardcase had sat back down, taking a break from dancing, but what Fives was referring to was the clone standing in front of the table, glaring at them.

Rex.

The smile left Lexie’s lips as she watched him make his way towards them and she felt Fives’ hands quickly let go of her body. He looked angry.

 “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, the Captain snarled at Fives as he stopped in front of them. “That is your superior officer”.

“Rex chill, we were just dancing”, Lexie tried to intervene.

Rex flinched at the use of his name. That was not something that Lexie ever did in front of the men. His eyes quickly darted from Fives to Echo and Jesse, who were close by and had stopped dancing to watch the scene unfold.

“General, do really you think it’s appropriate?”, he retorted.

“We have the night off and I’m having some fun. I don’t see anything wrong with it”, she scoffed.

“But you’re a Jedi, this is not how you should behave”.

Lexie’s eyes went wide at his condescension. Deep down she knew he was probably right, but the last days had been so stressful, all she had wanted was to just forget about everything and enjoy herself. And it had been working up until then, pretending to be a regular person, drinking and dancing with friends, and not someone who was responsible for the lives of hundreds of soldiers and for the winning or losing of battles that threatened the Republic itself. Lexie was now furious and it was visible all over her face. She took a step closer to Rex.

 “I am not responsible for falling from a pedestal that you have placed me on”, she said bitterly, jabbing a finger at his chestplate. “I deserve to unwind and have fun just as much as anyone else, even if that doesn’t meet your kriffin’ standards. Do you know how astonishingly bad our mission was? Echo was eaten by a kriffin’ snake. He was eaten! I had to cut him out of its stomach. And I got covered in disgusting, rancid serpent guts in the process. I can still fucking smell it in my hair. I deserve to unwind after the shitshow that was the last three days. So if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I will continue doing just that”.

Rex clenched his jaw. What could he even reply to all that? She turned away from him, grabbed Fives by his hand and dragged him to the other side of the dancefloor.

“Are you ok, Lex?”, he asked. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was very upset.

 “Yeah, let’s just keep dancing”, she forced a smile. “Please”.

 Rex was sat with Kix at their table, his eyes glued to Lexie as she was still dancing and laughing with Fives, Echo, Jesse and Hardcase. They had only stopped a few times in the past hour in order to head to the bar and do more shots.

He felt so angry, mostly at himself. Lexie was a grown woman, of course she was capable of making her own decisions and entitled to act however she wanted when she was off duty. What the hell was he thinking trying to dictate how she could or couldn’t behave? She did not owe him anything, no matter how much it hurt to see Fives’ hands all over her body.

 His grip tightened around the drink in front of him as he struggled to understand why he was feeling so angry. He tried to tell himself that he only thought of Lexie as a friend, but the pit that would form in his stomach every time he glanced over and saw her dancing with Fives or Jesse… Rex realised it might be time to admit that his vode had been right. He did have a crush on her.

“Did you think he would just wait forever for you to make a move?”, Kix’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know what you mean”, he replied dryly.

“Sure you don’t. Just like you don’t look like you want to murder Fives either”, Kix quipped.

Rex shot the medic an irritated look.

 “Nothing happened yet, you know. She’s been dancing a lot with him yes, but she’s also danced with me and with the others. You still have time to do something”.

 Before Rex could reply, Jesse appeared next to Kix and started dragging him out of the booth as “their song” came on and he had to come dance with them. Kix tried to protest that he’d just sat back down, but his brother wouldn’t hear it. Rex lifted his eyes from his drink and saw Lexie by his side.

 “Come dance with us, Captain”, she said with a small smile. She had been looking over at him every now and then as she was dancing and hated the sour mood he was in. She was beginning to think she had been too harsh with her choice of words and wished to now make peace.

 “Good luck with that”, Jesse told her with a laugh. “I have never seen Rex dance”. He and Kix left for the dancefloor.

 “Rex. Please”, she said extending her arm to him.

  He shouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry I snapped, it’s just been a really stressful mission”, she continued, slurring her words a little.

“No, I’m sorry Lexie. I shouldn’t have said what I said”, he said as he reluctantly took her hand and stood up. He hated that he had upset her.

She squeezed his hand slightly trying to convey she was no longer upset with him before leading him to the dancefloor. Hardcase and Fives enthusiastically cheered as he and Lexie approached the group, while Jesse, Kix and Echo exchanged a look. The Captain never danced. No matter how many times they had tried to convince him, no matter how many women had asked him to dance with them, he never danced. And yet it had taken their general less than five minutes to get him out of the booth and onto the dancefloor.

Lexie placed her hands on Rex’s shoulders. Her eyes were a bit unfocused due to the alcohol but she managed to hold his gaze. Rex placed a hand on her waist and attempted to awkwardly mimic the way her body was swaying with the music. He was not good at this, he had really never danced before, but from the smile on her face it didn’t seem like she cared. His eyes had softened, and he was completely ignoring the looks his vode were giving him. His attention was solely on her.

 A slower song came on and Lexie smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer and resting her head on his shoulder. Rex placed his other arm on her back and leaned his head towards her, resting his cheek on her head. He took a breath in, inhaling the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo. He knew this was inappropriate but the way she felt in his arms… He was making her happy by dancing with her, and that was making him happy. All he wanted to do was see her smile and hear her laugh. She was so important to him, he realised.

Fear started to settle into his mind; this felt much, much bigger than a simple crush. The relief he felt when the song ended was visible on his face and Lexie looked at him with a confused expression. He excused himself and walked back to their table.

It was late into the night now, and the group was sat back down at the table, with Lexie and Fives being the last to join. Rex had shot up from his seat earlier as he watched the two of them stumble and fall to the floor while laughing and he had decided they had enough dancing, marching over and dragging them back to their seats. The two had plopped down on the bench, still laughing, with Fives leaning a little too much into Lexie’s side. Rex sat down next to Echo on the other side of the table.

 “Why the hell did you let Fives get her so drunk?”, Rex asked Echo in an irritated tone.

“Fives didn’t force her to drink. She is just as bad as he is, honestly”, Echo replied.

“Hey! I heard that”, Lexie replied. She pushed Fived off of her and into Jesse’s side and got up, hands on the table and leaning over it to get closer to Rex. “And I am not as bad as Fives. I am much, much worse”, she grinned.

“I’m starting to believe that”, he mumbled as he watched her lose her balance and practically fall back into her seat.

 Lexie looked to her left, wanting to say something to Fives, only to discover that he had passed out on Jesse’s shoulder. A wide smile spread on her face.

“Guess I won”, she said looking over at Echo.

“You did. And I will make sure he never hears the end of it, don’t worry”, Echo replied amused.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight”, Rex said looking from Fives to Hardcase who seemed close to passing out himself.

The group started heading out of the 79s, with Echo and Kix having to carry Fives, supporting him over their shoulders. Jesse was walking close to Hardcase, making sure he didn’t trip and fall, leaving Rex to walk by Lexie’s side.

She and the Captain had to stay back, as they could not all fit into the first air taxi. Lexie tried with no luck to get Rex to talk during the ride back to the barracks but the atmosphere seemed very tense between the two of them. Lexie’s mood quickly deflated. She had done it, she had shown him who she was and he was disappointed in her.

She stumbled as she got out of the taxi and Rex caught her by the waist before she fell. Lexie was starting to feel very embarrassed, her inhibitions returning as she was slowly sobering up. The silence was killing her as Rex walked her back to her room but she could not think of a single thing to talk about. Even worse, she was beginning to feel very nauseous and most of the focus was directed to keeping her jaw tightly clenched and willing herself to not throw up.

She immediately entered her room and went straight into the fresher, panic flooding her senses. She hated throwing up, it was the worst feeling in the galaxy for her. She would rather have droids shoot her with live blasterfire than have to throw up. Her right hand was gripping the sink, her knuckle turning white. She just had to focus and not allow herself to get sick.

“Are you okay?”, Rex asked from the doorway of the fresher, concern evident on his face.

 All Lexie could do was slowly shake her head. She refused to open her mouth even to speak.

“Do you want me to stay?”, he asked quietly.

 She nodded reaching her left hand for his. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Over the next half hour neither of them budged from when they were stood, the only movement being made was when Lexie would squeeze his hand harder during the moments she felt close to throwing up.

Finally feeling a little better she made her way to her bed, sitting on the edge. She quietly watched as Rex took off the upper part of his armor, just as he had the last time he stayed in her room all those months ago. He had kept watch as she slept for six nights before she felt safe to sleep alone again. She hated having to admit to herself how happy she was to have him in the room with her again.

“You can just sleep on the bed you know”, the alcohol still in her system prompted her to say as she saw him reach for the chair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”, he said hesitantly.

“It’s fine, it’s big enough”, she said as she laid on the bed on her side and shuffled close to the wall.

That wasn’t what he meant and she knew it, but decided to ignore it and pat the spot on the bed next to her. He hesitated. If he agreed, he would cross so many lines. But he would get to hold her in his arms, to be close to her. And he wanted to do it, Maker he really wanted to.

He laid on his back on the bed and did not protest when Lexie snuggled into his side, resting her head in the crook of his neck and her right hand on his chest. He had moved his arm to allow her to settle comfortably and once she had, he placed it around her, hand coming to rest on her waist. He was suddenly so nervous and exasperated to realise how fast his heart was beating.

 “What are you thinking about?”, she asked. She sounded tired.

“Nothing. Just go to sleep, General”, he replied trying to keep a level voice.

“Something is bothering you. It’s just us two but you just called me ‘general’”.

“It’s just… you and Fives seemed very close tonight”, he said after a long pause.

“Are you jealous?”, she asked with a chuckle.

 “What? No. It was just an observation”, he said defensively.

“You don’t have to worry, you’re still my favourite”, she said lifting her head, eyes finding his.

“I’m your favourite clone?”, he said amused, tilting his head in order to look at her.

“You’re my favourite person”, she admitted.

 Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprised before a genuine smile appeared on his face. She really saw him as a person, as a sentient being and not just an expendable soldier. He had felt that of course, she treated him and his brothers with respect and it was obvious she cared about them, but to hear her say it, to hear her say that he was her favourite person, out of everyone she knew. He felt so happy. She made him so happy. He squeezed her a little tighter into him.

 “You’re my favourite person too”, he said quietly.

Lexie was struggling to keep her eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from dancing finally catching up with her. She felt the happiness pouring around Rex and smiled, resting her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, but before she drifted off to sleep she was almost certain she felt Rex’s lips gently placing a kiss on the top of her head.