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illuminatedquill · 2 months ago

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Story Summary: Sabine and Ezra do their best to enjoy a rare day off at home as their daughter, Mira, begins her days in the Academy. But, as it always is with these two, things are never that simple for this star-crossed pair . . .

Day 1, SabezraWeek2024 Prompt: Slice of Life - Domestic Sabezra

@sabezraweek

I used to be a morning person.

In the early days, back when I was still on the Ghost with Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Ezra, I relished being the first person awake during our long travels around the galaxy. Walking into the communal area, brewing up a fresh mug of caf, and then sitting in the Phantom alone, watching the stars pass by in silence. It was such a brief respite from the general chaos of our everyday existence, fighting a war against an implacable foe than never seemed to falter in its cruelty.

(Well, technically, I was the first person awake. Hera never really seemed to sleep, always tinkering with her ship at odd hours.)

Even back then, being involved in a war for our survival, I couldn't resist against the sense of optimism that flowed into me, looking out at the vastness of space. I felt young and invincible, able to shape the future as I saw fit.

There was no challenge that Sabine Wren, Mandalorian, could overcome.

But now . . .

A sharp series of pokes at my cheek, accompanied by giggling.

"Papa, I don't think she's going to wake up." My daughter, Mira, attempting to rouse me from my slumber.

My husband's voice, intimately familiar and filled with easy-going humor, replied in an amused tone. "Try the other cheek, maybe?"

Deciding to be playful, I let out a noise that some would unwisely call a snore. This was shortly joined by more giggling from my daughter.

I felt some pressure on my other cheek - and then, with lightning quick reflexes, snatched my daughter into a bear hug. "Aaaahhhhhh!" I growled. "Who dares disturb my precious sleep?"

The giggling erupted into squeals of laughter, bright and lively. "Mama!" Mira said, as I rolled around with her on my bed. "You're finally awake."

I peppered her face with kisses. "All thanks to you, little one. As punishment, I give you death by a thousand kisses."

"Gross! Papa, help me out here," complained Mira.

My husband, Ezra, stood at the side of our bed, dressed in casual sleepwear. His hair was still a little floofy from sleep, along with rumpled clothes. In the early morning hours, it was undeniably an extremely attractive look - well, at least it was to me, which is all that mattered. He stroked his beard, recently trimmed, looking thoughtful.

"Actions have consequences, cyare," he said sadly. "I'm afraid that's a fact of life."

Mira wriggled out of my embrace to glare at her father. "This was your idea, Papa," she retorted.

"Was it? I can't recall. Must be my old age."

I snorted and sat up in bed. "Is it time?" I asked.

My daughter looked at me, annoyance momentarily dropped. "Yes. Leaving for the Academy today."

"Soon, I might add," Ezra stated. He looked at his chrono. "Head over to the refresher, Mira. Let's get you ready now."

I stroked her hair, suddenly overcome with emotion. It seemed only yesterday that a medical droid had handed her to me, so tiny and fierce with life, swaddled in a blanket. The labor had been long and arduous, full of unexpected complications, but holding her in my arms afterwards - the ultimate manifestation of the love shared between myself and Ezra - was one of the happiest moments in my entire life.

She was our heart in physical form, stepping outside our chests into the big, wide galaxy. I knew we couldn't protect her forever, much as I wished sometimes to just lock her inside the comm-tower - she needed to spread her wings at some time.

I just wished it hadn't come so quickly. If only I had more time . . .

My thoughts wandered towards my late mother and father. Did they feel this way when Tristan and I started making our own way through life? Making choices that caused our paths to diverge far, far from home?

"Mama?" asked Mira, her voice worried. She stared curiously at me, her features a mix of Ezra and mine; I saw his smile at times, bright and guileless, but her eyes flashed briefly with a fire that reminded me all too well of my own - and my late mother's.

"Are you okay? You look sad."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. "It's a happy kind of sad, cyare. You grew up on us so fast, little one."

Mira smiled. "I'm a kid. That's what I'm supposed to do."

I laughed and pulled her into a big hug. "And you're doing such a great job of it."

Ezra seemed more composed than I did, but I felt through our bond in the Force that he was going through the same emotional turbulence I was. His tone was gentle as he said, "Mira, it's time. Say good-bye to your mother now."

My daughter gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek and sprinted out the door. Ezra looked at me. "Are you going to be alright?"

I sniffed. Allergies, I told myself.

Sure, Sabine.

"No," I admitted. "I just thought . . ."

"That today would take longer to get here?" Ezra said, finishing my train of thought. "I feel the same way, Sabine."

I reached out to grasp his hand. He squeezed it affectionately. "You get it."

"She's with us for only a little time," Ezra said quietly. "Let's just enjoy it while we can."

I couldn't say anything to that. I heard someone say once that children are a gift that are loaned to us for only a little while. At some point, we had to let them go find their own way.

Why is the last act of love always letting go, I wondered.

He leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead before leaving to attend to our daughter. "Get some more sleep," he said. "I'll see you after I drop her off."

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke an hour later to the rich aroma of freshly brewed caf. Shuffling out of the bedroom, I found Ezra in the kitchen with a mug of my favorite beverage.

I accepted it gratefully and collapsed onto the couch. Murley sauntered by, brushing his face against my legs - a regular routine for him, since the act resulted in his daily allowance of petting. With fond annoyance, I reached down to do so.

Once he was satisfied, the mangy loth-cat let out a purr as thanks and stepped away to find a warm spot to doze in.

"You live such a charmed life," I noted.

Ezra joined me on the couch, a bowl of freshly sliced golden plait-fruit, berries, and meilooruns on his lap. My stomach growled at the sight.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I held back from snatching the bowl from his lap. "You have to ask?" I said, trying not to sound like a hungry loth-wolf.

My husband grinned. "No. But it's fun to do so."

He picked at a slice of fruit and popped it into my open mouth. I chewed slowly, savoring the fresh fruit. In between bites, I finished my caf, and leaned my head onto Ezra's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked. My voice was still slurred slightly, a result of not fully being awake yet - the caf had yet to take effect.

I felt Ezra shift uncomfortably on the couch. "Well . . ."

I groaned. "Is that today?" I asked. "I thought it wasn't for another week, at least."

"Hey," Ezra retorted. "It was your idea. You said we shouldn't put off cleaning and maintenance any longer. This was the day we both agreed upon."

I grimaced. He was right. Ezra was a Jedi Knight, which came with enormous responsibilities, and Bo-Katan - the current leader of Mandalore - always needed my help corralling the clans into focusing on rebuilding our home world instead of warring against each other.

Add all that with the time-consuming demands of being a parent, meant that the comm-tower we called home had fallen into disrepair. We made it work; it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that meant some things fell through the cracks.

"I've changed my mind," I said promptly. "Let's wait another week."

"Sabine," he said patiently. "We have a pile of dirty laundry that is literally taller than our daughter. It needs to be done."

I really did not want to clean the comm-tower. Ezra and I had been so busy over the past few months and with Mira finally out of the house starting Academy, we finally had some alone time.

I had needs that had to be addressed.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, I thought.

With a firm hand, I turned his face gently towards me. His expression was curious, a question presumably about to be asked but I had already pressed my lips hungrily against his.

There was a moment of surprised silence before he melted into it, his need rising to meet mine. I pushed gently against his frame, and we fell gently onto the couch, still kissing passionately.

"Sabine," he groaned. "We have so much to do today."

"We do," I agreed, tracing a line of smooches down his cheek, his neck, aiming to make my way further down into more enticing territory. "So, it would be best if we finish this first so that our focus can be fully on the chores."

His voice dropped into a husky growl, signaling that I had won this particular battle. "You are incorrigible," he huffed out.

I was in the middle of pulling his shirt off as he spoke. "Oh?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Should I stop?"

He glared at me. "Come here."

I lowered my face to his, holding back laughter.

Ezra grinned and he pulled me into a warm embrace, kissing and making me breathless; making me feel alive.

_ _ _ _ _

True to my word, I was locked in on the chores after we finished.

Ezra puttered around the house, cleaning up the various debris littering the floors first before putting in the hard work of sweeping, dusting, and mopping to make sure our home was habitable again.

Meanwhile, I focused on the maintenance: checking the electrical systems, the power generators, and communications array.

Early on in our relationship, we had figured out a good system to handling the daily mundane tasks of everyday life. Ezra had clocked immediately that I hated cleaning; something that shouldn't have surprised him, given our prior co-habitation on the Ghost.

When I had poked him about it, since he had visited my room countless times, he pointed out that we were at war with the Empire during that period.

"I assumed that was the reason," he muttered, after seeing my incredulous expression. "I didn't know that was your default state, Sabine."

"It would have been," I admitted. "If Hera and Kanan hadn't kept being annoyingly persistent about cleaning up after myself."

Meanwhile, I had realized that Ezra lacked the mechanical knowledge and expertise that had been ingrained into me since birth - which, if we lived in a normal state-of-the-art apartment complex in Capital City, wouldn't be necessary.

But we had decided to stay in the old comm-tower instead. During long years of isolation and loneliness, the aging structure had served as home for both of us. It was an easy choice, one of the first we made together as a couple.

But that meant someone had to look after and maintain it. Which meant me.

Parts for upkeep were increasingly rare since the comm-tower was already past its prime during the Empire's reign, as the last of its line of communications towers before being phased out of service. When the Empire came to power, this proved to be a boon to the Bridgers, since the outdated machinery meant that it was overlooked during the initial Imperial survey of Lothal's resources - and continued to be so when their son claimed it as refuge after they were taken.

Because of the rarity of parts for use, that meant I had to regularly scavenge in junkyards across the galaxy to find components that could be used. My husband was competent in quite a few forms of mechanical repair, but the tower was a long-term care project and required the kind of ingenuity and complexity that he simply wasn't equipped with.

And I really, really did not like to clean.

So, the bargain was struck - I handled maintenance, he handled cleaning. It was a good deal which enabled us to avoid arguments and turn our attention and energy to more pressing matters (like what we had just done on the couch.)

I was on my back, dressed in an old flight suit borrowed from Hera, covered in old grease and spatters of oil, halfway inserted into an open vent that led to a circuit board that controlled the flow of our air conditioning. It sparked erratically mere inches from my eyes, which were safely shielded behind a pair of mechanic's goggles (also from Hera, but she didn't know that I had them).

I frowned, holding back a curse. This circuit board had been a problem since I had procured it from a shady Quarren vendor on Kijimi. But the discount he had offered was too good to pass up.

I see now why it was so cheap, I thought grimly. Should have known better, di'kut.

There was a nudge at my foot. I peered out to see the face of my husband, looking concerned, holding a large trash bag full of -

"Is that hair?" I asked, shocked. "That can't be all hair, Ezra."

He gave a faint look of disgust and shook the bag's contents. "Afraid so. I can't tell if this all Murley's or if Mira's been letting in some of his feral friends while we haven't been paying attention."

I craned my neck to find the accused in question and found Murley, our resident loth-cat and menace, taking up his usual place on my personal tool bench. He was watching us with curious eyes.

I pointed my electric torch at him. "Stop loafing around and help out. I don't let you squat here just to be cute and keep us company, you know."

Murley mewled in what I construed to be polite disagreement.

I wagged the torch aggressively to emphasize my next statement. "I'll kick you out," I promised. "For real this time."

The loth-cat blinked - and then proceeded to cough up a disgusting hair ball.

Ezra sighed. "Great. I have to clean up that now."

"He has his charms," I said, grinning.

He folded his arms, annoyed. "Which are . . .?"

"Well," I said. "For one, he does remind me of a certain handsome Jedi."

Ezra squatted down to me, a slight smile breaking through his annoyance. "Oh, does he?"

I reached up to stroke my husband's face affectionately. "Why do you think I kept him around so long?"

"Figured it was the other way around. He was hard to get rid of."

"So were you," I pointed out. "Seems like I have a penchant for being liked by strays."

He leaned into my touch - and then laughed when my stomach growled hideously.

Feeling my face flush, I went scooted back into the open maintenance shaft.

"Guess it's feeding time," Ezra chuckled. "What are you in the mood for?"

Trying - and failing - to sound nonchalant about the egregious announcement of my bodily functions, I answered, "Two Bantha burgers, large fries, and a meiloorun smoothie."

"I'm assuming both of those are for - "

"Me, yeah," I grunted, stifling the mild spike of annoyance. My hunger was finally making itself known after an hour of toiling away in the mechanical guts of our home and I felt it begin to poison my jovial mood.

"So, that will be three bantha burgers, large fries, and two smoothies, then. From Paldo's?"

Paldo's. My favorite local fast-food diner in Capital City run by an elderly Twi'lek named, you guessed it, Paldo. I was considered royalty by the manager there, much to my husband's amusement. There was even a framed picture of me on the wall, first thing you saw when walking inside. Mira always laughed with delight whenever she accompanied me for a meal.

"Yup," I said.

He eyed me. "I don't understand where you put all that food."

I gestured proudly at myself. Years of hard work, battle, and a stressful childbirth and yet my figure was still in top form for my age. "It's all in the genes, cyar'ika."

"Is that so," Ezra said dryly. "And are those same genes the reason why you eat like a newborn rancor, my cyar'ika?"

"No. That was the result of being raised with a brother, as you know."

"Oh, I do know," Ezra replied. "I met him, remember? Poor Tristan was all skin and bones, if I recall."

I swatted at him. He let out a bark of laughter and pivoted to the side, avoiding my hit. "Go get my food, husband mine. Or you'll see how a baby rancor reacts when deprived of sustenance."

With a teasing grin, he gave a mock salute and headed for the elevator. A minute later, I heard the tell-tale grumble of a speeder engine starting and then the familiar swoop sound as it sped off into the distance towards Capital City.

Sighing, I returned to my repairs -

A chime came from the communications console, indicating a visitor.

I frowned. Had Ezra returned already? I didn't hear the speeder.

I got up and walked towards the console to press the intercom. "Did you forget your credit chip, di'kut?"

The response was laced with sardonic amusement. "Hello, Wren. It's been a while."

I froze at the voice, familiar but not in a way that invoked pleasant feelings; it was familiar in the way that a warrior knew the sound of a knife escaping its sheath or the sound of a blaster powering on.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. Already my mind was racing, racing with horrible thoughts of Ezra and Mira.

"There's something I need to show you. May I come up?"

"No," I said firmly. "I'll come down to you."

"Sure," she replied. "It will be like old times."

I grab my lightsaber off a nearby work bench before heading down to see why Shin Hati had come to visit.

_ _ _ _ _

I have nightmares about this sometimes.

In my nightmares, she and I are dueling again. That cold night, years ago, after I had just unlocked the map to Ezra.

I beat the assassin droids and give chase to her, like always. She is wrapped in a cloak, blacker than the night surrounding us.

Her lightsaber blazes scarlet in the dark courtyard. I activate my own - and strike, my emerald meeting her scarlet in a blaze of sparks.

And then, in the nightmare, I stumble. My blade swings wide and I am left defenseless for a critical second.

Shin's blade comes down in a vicious arc, right through my exposed neck.

And I wake up, in a cold sweat. Ezra doesn't ask, he doesn't need to. He just wraps me in his arms and gently lulls me back to sleep.

This isn't my nightmare, however. But a part of me still feels the hot blaze of a blade made from pure plasma erupting in my gut.

Shin Hati stands across me in the tower's courtyard in broad daylight. Next to her is a speeder, sleek and shiny with fresh chrome. She's dressed in gray combat fatigues with a black bolero jacket worn over it. Her platinum blonde hair is longer now, tied into a short ponytail.

I probably don't look all that intimidating to her, now that I think about it, covered in an old flight uniform that's seen better days. But I hope the lightsaber hilt gripped in my hand is enough to make her cautious, at the very least.

Her eyes pierce mine with a wolfish stare. Finally, she shakes her head. "Well, you didn't have to dress up for me," she said.

"You should have called ahead," I replied. I made sure that my thumb was right over the activation switch on the lightsaber hilt. "I would have freshened up."

Shin cocked her head. "Thinking about it now, you didn't look that good last time we met like this."

She smirked. "Remember?"

An old searing pain ached in my abdomen. The scar.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

She slowly pulls from her jacket a holo-puck. "You need to see this."

"Toss it to me."

Shin complied. I caught it deftly, my eyes never leaving her face. She didn't move immediately for a weapon. I felt some of the tension drain from me - but not much.

"Play it," she urged.

I did so. The holo-puck emitted a recording, the blue static focusing into something sharper -

Something in my chest tightened and I felt myself inhale sharply. The recording was of Ezra and Mira.

From this morning. I watched the miniature holographic forms of my husband and child play out for a few more seconds - Ezra giving our daughter a hug before waving her off to the Academy - before the recording fizzled out in a shower of sparks.

I winced, dropping it. I realized a second later, seeing the warped and twisted metal, that I had squeezed it so hard that it broke.

I looked back at Shin. Something in my face must have spooked her because the former mercenary took a step back with her hands up, palms facing outward, in a placating gesture. "Wren, I promise. This was not me."

"Who?" I asked. The voice that came out was cold, colder than a winter on Krownest.

"Bothan private investigator. Their name - "

"I don't care for a name," I hissed. "Where are they right now?"

"I took care of them. They won't be following your family anymore," Shin said quickly. "But, more importantly, their employer is someone you know."

My teeth ground against each other in frustration. "Say it."

"Senator Xiono. He hasn't given up his personal crusade against you and your husband."

My stomach dropped at the name. Xiono.

He had already been a paranoid, suspicious politician before Thrawn had returned. The Imperial warlord's campaign against the New Republic had brought his planet's people nearly to ruin - and his wife had suffered grievously during the Grand Admiral's bombardment. Beset with grief and rage, the senator had railed against the Security Council for their failings - and had taken up a special fixation on myself and Ezra, who were caught in the middle of that mess.

There were only a handful of people who were aware of my involvement in Thrawn's return: Ezra, Hera, Leia, Zeb, Kallus, Ahsoka, and Chopper (no one actually told the astromech, he just figured it out all by himself). All had sworn to keep it secret, to protect me - despite my insistence against doing so.

But Xiono never gave up his line of inquiry, I knew. Chancellor Mothma had strong armed him to stay in line, but I always suspected that he continued to probe whenever he could.

The senator blamed Ezra and myself for what had happened to his home planet - to his family.

And he wasn't entirely wrong, a dark voice whispered in my mind.

But this was a new low.

My anger threatened to erupt from my chest, bellowing and screaming to the Lothal sky with all my pent-up rage.

Shaking, I asked Shin, "Why are you helping me?'

"I'm not helping you," she said, watching me carefully. "Your daughter deserves to have a family. I would not see her lose either of you, if it was within my power to prevent it."

I blinked, my rage momentarily forgotten. "I . . . I really don't know what to say."

Shin shrugged. "My job here is done, then." She took out her comm-link and proceeded to input a series of commands.

My own comm-link, hanging off my belt, chirped with an alert that a message had been received. I checked it quickly.

"What is this?"

"A place and a time," she responded. "The senator is expecting to meet his private investigator there. I thought you might like to meet him instead."

I considered briefly what Ezra would think. But he wasn't here.

"Thank you," I said. The rage came swarming up again, hot and eager. "I think I will."

_ _ _ _ _

The establishment was on the seedier side of Capital City. A dive, made from the wreckage of several TIE fighters clumped together, that served pirates, drunkards, and other sentient beings of dubious repute.

It was the perfect place for an incognito meeting, considering all the noise and ruckus.

A cloaked figure made his way hurriedly through the crowd, heading for a stone table enclosed in a dimly lit booth on the opposite side of the room. Another figure, slender and hooded, waved him over.

With the utmost discretion, Senator Xiono slid into the booth, huffing slightly. "This update had better have something good," he snarled to the booth's other occupant. "My contacts said you were one of the best, and I have yet to see anything of interest other than what color shoes Wren and Bridger's daughter wears to school!"

I lowered my hood. "I'm sorry you find my family so boring, Senator," I said.

To his credit, Xiono did not scream. His face went bloodless and pale, his lip trembled, his eyes widened - but the man was otherwise quite still.

Somewhere, amidst the storm of rage swirling inside me, I felt mildly impressed.

"Wren," he whispered. "Why are you - "

I placed my hands on the table with a gentle thump. Finally, he flinched.

I smiled, showing my teeth. "Do you read Mandalorian literature, Senator?"

He stared at me - and then, the faintest of sneers appeared on his face. "I wasn't aware your people had literature."

The sneer told me that he had been emboldened by my empty hands. But there were other ways to make someone afraid, I knew.

I nodded. "That's a fair point. Most of it was lost in the Purge. But the best stories always survive through word of mouth. Have you heard of the great Mandalorian warrior of legend named Akilles?"

"I have not." The disdain dripped off his tone, so thick I could almost see it congealing on his lips.

"Shame. You see, Akilles had a friend - another great warrior. One day, he found out that his friend had a mortal enemy, who swore to vanquish them. Akilles, upon finding out, proclaimed that there is no greater enemy than the enemy of his friend."

The ghost of a smile twitched on the senator's face. "Well, it seems that this Akilles and I agree on that."

I let my smile widen, showing more teeth. "Akilles went to confront the mortal enemy of his friend. And he gave him one warning."

I leaned forward; Xiono leaned back, as far as the booth would allow him. It wasn't much.

"There is no weapon; no army that can protect this enemy from the sheer hell that is Akilles rage."

"And," Xiono whispered carefully, "what happened to this enemy?"

"Akilles ran his sword through his gut. And then dragged his dead body throughout the streets of Sundari."

A chill silence fell between us in the booth, only interrupted by the occasional burst of laughter and conversation from the other diners.

The senator swallowed hard, his eye twitching. "What . . . might this enemy have done differently to avoid such a fate?"

I seized the front of his cloak and pulled him half across the table. He yelped, his hands scrambling, clawing for freedom but I ignored his feeble attempts at defense.

I stared into his wide eyes, unblinking. The fury within me seethed and poured molten fire into my next words.

"He could have left the planet. When he still had the chance." At the last word, I threw him back into his seat. He sagged, whimpering something incomprehensible.

I swept from the booth and went home.

_ _ _ _ _

"Mama!" yelled Mira, as I stepped from the turbolift. My daughter jumped into my arms.

"Hello, cyare," I said, squeezing her close. "How was the Academy?"

"It was a lot more fun than I thought. Made lots of friends - and a couple enemies, too," she added, almost as an afterthought.

I looked to Ezra. He shrugged. "I've already gotten some reports from the principal. She was standing up to some bullies."

I sighed and ruffled her hair. "It's a Wren specialty to have some archenemies wherever we go," I noted to him.

He snorted. "Don't I know it."

Mira squinted at me. "What's an 'arch-nemony'?"

I poked her in the forehead. "What, they didn't teach you that in linguistics class? Or, let me guess, you were too busy doodling in your sketchbook to pay attention?"

My daughter scrambled from my embrace. "I just remembered that I have to do homework. Gotta go now!"

I shook my head, amazed at her speed. "Never seen her so excited to do homework. She's hiding something."

"Yup," Ezra said. He glanced at me. "She's not the only one."

I kept my face still, turning to hang my cloak on a nearby coat hook. "What do you mean?"

"Sabine," said Ezra patiently. "Don't hide things from me. It doesn't work."

I scowled at him. "You know, sometimes it sucks being married to a Jedi."

"It's not the Jedi part that's telling me you're hiding something. It's the husband part."

He folded his arms. "Out with it. You were acting weird after lunch and then you vanished with barely a word."

I looked at the door leading to my daughter's room, biting my lip. "Can we talk about this outside? I don't want Mira to hear this."

I felt Ezra's worry rise considerably at my request, but his expression remained calm. "Of course."

Once we stepped outside, I spilled everything to Ezra. All of it.

When I finished, he let out a hiss of air and leaned against the balcony railing.

I went next to him, looking out over the view of Lothal's plains of grass and the glowing lights of Capital City in the distance.

"Bad, I know," I said quietly.

He reached out to take my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We can handle it. But next time, let's do it together, okay?"

As always, my husband's simple enduring faith in a better tomorrow continued to surprise me. "You're not mad?"

He snorted. "Mad at what, Sabine? You being yourself?"

I looked at him, smiling slightly. "You agree with what I did?"

He grimaced. "No . . . but I get why you did it."

My husband gave me a knowing look. "It won't keep him quiet for long. This will just fuel him to dig harder."

I nodded. "I know."

My voice hardened. "But he needed to know, Ezra. What it means to cross my family. Maybe, at least, he'll aim his fury at me next time - and not at you and Mira."

Ezra stood to look me directly in the eye. "Our family, Sabine. Promise me you won't go after him again. Not by yourself."

"I can't - I can't lose you. Either of you," I pleaded. "I can't bear it."

"It won't happen. If he comes after us again, we will face it together. I want your word, Sabine. Swear to me."

I let out a shuddering breath, feeling all the negative emotions escape with it. Then, quietly, I reached out for his hand and brought it to my heart. "I swear on my word and my honor as a Mandalorian," I said.

His blue eyes searched mine - and he nodded once, satisfied. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," I said. "What I did, all those years ago - it won't ever stop haunting us, will it."

"Don't be sorry," he replied softly. “You are worth it. Always. We will find a way."

I didn't know what else to say. I just hugged him close.

We stayed that way for a while, swaying gently with the evening breeze.

Then: "Ewwwwww."

I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?"

"It's finished," Mira said, sounding bored. "I want to play now."

Ezra smiled, shaking his head. "Too smart for her own good," he muttered to me.

"No such thing," I said, mildly offended. "Too smart for her own peace of mind, well, that's a more factual statement."

"And our own," he added.

I grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

"Nope." His smile lessened for a moment. "We had such a busy day. I'm sorry you didn't get a quiet night, like you wanted."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Ah, this is much better. There will be other nights."

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," I said. And we went inside, together.

_ _ _ _ _

I used to be a morning person.

I used to relish being awake in the early morning, watching the galaxy stream by in lines of stars, feeling invincible and young.

I watch my husband and young daughter sleep on the couch, her body sprawled across his lap in the boneless way that only youth can manage.

I don't feel young anymore. Or invincible.

I've traded that away for this. And, yes, it brings fear, and heartache, and the seeds of future joy.

That's life, as I've come to learn. Today was an odd day, full of challenging events, both big and small.

And it was not yet over. I snuggle close to my family - my two hearts, beating in quiet rhythm with one another - and prepare to fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day. And I will meet it with both of them.

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