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transitranger327 · 6 months ago

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Alright WolfWren Nation, y’all asked for it, here’s Ehn’yuste Chapter 2:

Chapter 2: “The Wolf of Clan Wren”, in which Sabine remembers her Mandalorian family, then gets married in front of the rest of her family.

Notes: the number of ancillary ships I can have in this fanfic increases exponentially with each chapter I post. Also how is this chapter almost 3k words? I think I need an in-universe Star Wars queer theory textbook. Thanks to @shinhatisgirlfriend for the Mando’a marriage vows.

One year after the Ignition

“Bo-Katan, please, this is too generous.” Sabine was examining the “spare apartment” Bo-Katan “had laying around” that was more like a small complex than the studio Sabine expected. There were four bedrooms, multiple refreshers, a large gathering space, a kitchen big enough to host a clan dinner, a currently-empty armory, and a small office with a separate entrance. “Well I knew the Countess of Clan Wren would be back one day, so I kept this open for you.” Shin was still unclear about the noble titles, so asked “Why do you keep calling Sabine ‘countess’?” “Oh she didn’t tell you? She’s the head of a minor clan, so by tradition she’s a countess.” “I didn’t want the title! Tristan was supposed to be count.” Sabine sounded very annoyed despite being in an armory. “Yeah, well too bad, he isn’t here. You aren’t the only sibling the responsibility meant for another.” Shin sensed an implied “we” from Bo-Katan.

“It was your sister, wasn’t it?” “Yes, my sister was Duchess before she died.” “During the purge?” “No, she died much earlier than that, during the Shadow War. Sabine was a toddler and Ahsoka was fresh out of the Order, helping us.” “Really, Ahsoka was involved?” “Where do you think she got her beskar armor pieces? Oh, that reminds me”

Bo-Katan pressed a single button on her vambrace, “Arms, you have the beskar’uliik prepped?” “Affirmative, Lady Kryze,” the Armorer’s voice spoke from Bo-Katan’s comlink, “but I thought we agreed to keep nicknames to after-hours activities.” “Sorry, I think it might be a habit now. Please meet Shin Hati at the Great Door.” Sabine emerged from the armory, “Arms, huh? I take it that this Armorer is more that just a colleague.” Bo-Katan’s cheeks blushed, and she quickly changed the subject. “Shin, you’re going with the Armorer to retrieve the beskar you have on your shuttle. Sabine, come with me, I have some things I want to show you.”

“Really, Arms? That was the best pet name you could come up with?” Sabine was laughing at Bo-Katan as they walked thru the lower levels of Sundari. “It’s not just short for Armorer, her arms are so strong and dreamy from the forging she does all day.” Sabine could feel the butterflies inside Bo-Katan thru the Force. “Does she have a name?” “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. That’s her secret to share.” The approached a door labelled simply “Remember”. “This is where we store any intact pre-purge armor,” Bo-Katan said as she opened the door. The room was stark, with few armor pieces in sight. “Many of what was stored here was found by the surface survivors. Once we ignited the great forge, we sorted them by clan. Any piece that could be identified was kept in their families, and the unclaimed was returned to the forge.” Sabine felt an immense grief. So many families gone. “Don’t be sad, Sabine. The room is empty, not because there was so little beskar’gam, because most everything has been reforged. Empty, that is, except for these.” They were now standing in front of the only armor in the room. “This is the remainder of Clan Wren. The pauldron, I believe, is your mother’s.” Sabine picked up the shoulder pad. It was Wren yellow, with a purple Phoenix that Ursa let her paint on after they liberated Mandalore all those years ago. “This shin guard I suspect to be Tristan’s,” Bo-Katan continued as she flipped the piece over to reveal a “TW” pressed into the back. Sabine smiled as she remembered the day she and her brother forged their beskar’gam. She had a matching “SW” pressed into her shin guard. “And this armor belonged to your cousin, Kala.” Sabine asked, “How do you know?” “She died in my arms. We were trying to escape from Moff Gideon, and while Axe and Koska survived our escape, Kala didn’t make it.” Sorrow threatened to fill the air. Sabine reached for comfort and found a tradition among rebel pilots, “We’ll drink to their memories tonight.” “Yes, we will. In the mean time, we need to forge at least some beskar’gam for your wife. I know most Jedi don’t like armor, but maybe she’ll go for the braces and guards like Ahsoka did.”

The Great Forge was about as loud as Shin expected, all things considered. The pounding of hammers was only intermittent, but the fires roared louder than most. Probably had to be hotter in order to work the beskar. The Armorer had used what amounted to an ornately decorated hover-stretcher to move the sizable amount of metal from the Wolf to the Great Forge. Shin felt a familiar presence enter the room, a welcome relief from all the suspicious looks she was receiving. “Hey there riduur, ready to become a Mandalorian?” Sabine had woven her fingers into Shin’s, “What armor would you like to wear?” Shin had been thinking about this since the Armorer had informed her that she would need to be wearing at least some armor for the wedding to be valid under Mandalorian law. “I was thinking, what if we just replaced the armor I do wear with Mandalorian versions?” Sabine smiled, “So vambraces, pauldrons, and boots?” “And maybe also the very centerpiece? It would feel like a pendant.” Shin wasn’t quite sure if it was okay to want one; She felt like an outsider intruding on traditions. Sabine was quick to reassure her, “A lovely idea, baby. Armorer, can we make that happen?” “Of course, Lady Wren. Do you have any previous armor to reforge with the new beskar?” Sabine set down Kala’s shin guard, pauldron, and vambrace at the Armorer’s anvil. “Oh, and take this,” she said, removing her own centerpiece, “I’d like our centerpieces to be forged together.” “Excellent. I will have these forged by the end of day. Would you like any signets inlaid?” Shin answered, “no, I’d prefer if my riduur painted them on.” “Very well, Shin Hati, soon to be of Clan Wren. This is the way.” Another “this is the way” resounded in the Forge.

Having moved most of their belongings into their suite, Shin and Sabine collapsed onto their newly acquired couch in each other’s arms. Absentmindedly caressing her betrothed, Shin asked, “who are you inviting to the wedding?” “I dunno, probably just my family from the Ghost? It might be the first time we’re all in the same place since Lothal.” Shin was a tad confused, “didn’t I meet everyone on Home One?” “You didn’t get to meet my older brother Zeb, he was out on patrol. You were questioned by his husband tho.” “Oh, Kallus? He seemed ex-imperial.” “Yeah, he was ISB. But after an…incident on Geonosis, he fell in love with Zeb. Wouldn’t admit to it until years later, after he joined the rebellion.” Shin laughed a bit, “you really are like your family.” “Yeah, I guess I am.” After a pause, Sabine asked, “Hey, I know we’re doing a traditional Mandalorian wedding, but are there any of your culture’s wedding traditions you want to do?” Shin shrugged, “I was a child when Baylan started training me. I did eventually research a few traditions, but I couldn’t find much about marriage. Didn’t think I’d ever need it.” “You didn’t think you would get married?” “You know how temple Jedi are, no attachments, no romance, no sex. Didn’t think there were Jedi who wore love like that on their sleeve,” Shin paused, “until I met you.”

Three months after the Ignition

Ahsoka was laughing at what her padawan had just told her. “You know, the masters at the temple would never have approved…” “yeah but when have you ever thought the old masters were right?” Sabine and her master were sitting around the campfire they had lit outside Ahsoka’s Jedi Shuttle. Shin had gone inside to grab a drink. “I do wish I had the freedom you have. No need to sneak around with the other padawans.” Ahsoka reminisced about her misadventures in the Clone Wars, “one time I had to pose as someone’s betrothed. I was so bad at it, the only romances I knew were Holo-novels.” She sighed, “but you had actual role models in your life. Your parents loved each other, despite your strained relationship with them. Kanan and Hera were able to balance being a Jedi, running the rebellion, and being in love.” “Hang on, you said padawans?” Sabine asked in jest, “Plural?” “I did secretly kiss a few, but there was only one I ever caught feelings for.” Ahsoka remembered the time she shared with Barriss before the bombing. Shin approached the fire, 3 cups of caf in hand. “Just remember, you two. Sometimes our feelings guide us, and sometimes they control us.” Ahsoka reached for the guidance that Obi-Wan gave her years ago, “know the difference, keep your heads clear, and you’ll go far.”

One year after the Ignition

Sabine smiled at her beloved as she was putting on her new beskar’gam. The Armorer had kindly agreed to keep the finish matte for easy painting. Shin had wanted a mix of Wren Yellow with orange detailing to match her lightsaber. Sabine had repainted her pauldrons to match, a Jedi crest on one shoulder and a Starbird on the other. Shin’s body glove was intricately lined out with Mandalorian designs and the map to Peridea. As she put on Kala’s old helmet she remarked, “you know, I thought you were joking when you said the armor felt like a second skin and you sometimes slept in it, but I get it now. It’s so much more comfortable than durasteel.” Sabine’s pride was visible thru her helmet, “You’ll make an excellent Mandalorian, love. But we are definitely not sleeping in these tonight.”

As they approached the living waters, Din Djarin approach the two soon-to-weds. “The Armorer asked me to give these to you,” he was holding out two coins, “She didn’t have time to let them cool before she started prepping the wedding.” Shin took the two coins, one the bare silver of beskar inlaid with a mythosaur skull, the other a bronzed beskar alloy featuring a Jedi sigil. Sabine asked, “care to elaborate to us what these mean?” Shin answered, “apparently on my home planet, there’s a tradition of parents giving their daughter two coins on her wedding day.” Sabine smiled at her beloved, “Awww that’s so cute that you consider the Armorer a parental figure.” Then she turned to Djarin, who was walking away, “you’re now officially invited to the wedding. Your kid can come too!” The former bounty hunter turned around. “Uh…thanks. But isn’t the wedding in like 10 minutes?” “Yeah, so?” “Grogu is currently in class right now. So it’ll just be me.” “Well then we won’t have to hide the uj.” Legends of Grogu’s sweet tooth had already reached Sabine. Djarin began to follow them into the Mines of Mandalore.

Sabine couldn’t stop smiling as she walked thru the assembly. Hera, Zeb, and Kallus were in their New Republic dress uniforms. Ezra and and his new padawan Jacen were wearing traditional Jedi robes, while Ahsoka had managed to find her old Mandalorian flight suit (or maybe she just had a new one tailored). Shin had even managed to invite Beilert Valance, an old underworld contact from her mercenary days, and one of the few she would consider a friend. It was the only person in there wearing a Core-style tuxedo, no doubt from infiltrating high-society parties on the job. Djarin and every other Mandalorian present were wearing their helmets. Some of Sabine's old acquaintances from her academy days were there, as well as the last surviving Protector that she and Fenn Rau had trained years ago, Shysa Mereel. Mandalorian sigils hung all around and above them in the Mines like championship banners in a Chin-Bret arena. Above the living waters hung, not just a Mythosaur like most days, but also a Clan Wren Starbird. Sabine had managed to repaint it the previous night during a fit of sleeplessness, accenting the traditional yellow with her signature orange and purple. Perhaps Clan Wren will rise from ashes.

Sabine and Shin stepped into the Living Waters, where the two most powerful Mandalorians were waiting for them. The Armorer began pouring water onto Kala’s—no, Shin’s helmet.

“Shin Hati, will you swear on your name and the names of the ancestors?” “I swear on my name, and the names of the ancestors” “That you shall walk the way of the Mand’alor? “That I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor” “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged on your heart?” “And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged on my heart.” “This is the way.” “This is the way.”

The assembly resounded, “This is the way.” Bo-Katan then continued the marriage rite.

“Do you two name each other as wife?” “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur, Shin Hati” “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur, Sabine Wren”

Bo-Katan turned to the assembly, “Today I, Duchess Bo-Katan Kryze, and all you assembled here are witness to Shin Hati joining Clan Wren, by rite of marriage to Countess Sabine Wren. This is the way.”

“This is the way”

No sooner had Sabine and Shin emerged from the Living Waters than Ezra nearly tackle Sabine back into the Waters with an enthusiastic embrace. “Congratulations sis, I always knew you would find the right person one day.” Then he turned and hugged Shin, “Welcome to the family.” Jacen came up and embraced Sabine. “So Aunt Sabine, did you tell her fun stories of you and mom doing cool rebel stuff together.” “Of course I did.” Ezra decided to put on the little brother act. “Shin, did Sabine tell you about the time I rescued her from a pack of wild frynocks?” “Um no?” “Or the time I rescued her from a pair of inquisitors?” A gruff voice behind Ezra spoke, “the way I remember it, I rescued both of you from them.” Zeb had approached the wedding couple, arm-in-arm with his husband. Kallus’ Coruscanti accent queried, “or the time I helped her infiltrate and escape an imperial pilot academy?” “Well that story she definitely told me.”

Sabine found her way over to Hera. “Your Mandalorian parents would be proud that you married in the traditional style.” “Hera, I’m not sure you knew my parents well enough to say that.” “You didn’t let me finish. Your Rebellion parents are proud of you for a very different reason: pulling a fast one on the authorities using a quick marriage is right out of Kanan’s playbook. He and I were illegally married 4 times in 3 different systems. And in my personal opinion, I’m glad you’re marrying someone you love.” After a laugh, she added, “Professionally, I cannot stress how disappointed I am in you abusing legal loopholes for personal gain.”

Valance approached the woman who invited him. “You know, in all my time in the Empire and the underworld, I’ve never been invited to a wedding that wasn’t a ploy of some kind.” Shin smiled, tho Valance couldn’t see. “Well my list of living friends and family is very short.” “What’s the deal with the helmets?” “Apparently the original Manda’lor never removed his helmet in front of others. Quite a few Mandalorians today follow in his footsteps.” Valance raised its only eyebrow, “so you’re not removing your helmet then? How does the wedding night work?” “No, Sabine and I will remove our helmets, just not in here, the sacred Mines of Mandalore.” She gestured to a moderately-sized banquet table in the back, “that’s why the wedding food is takeout only. But we’re having an afterparty at our apartment tonight, and you’re more than welcome to join us.” “Unfortunately I have to take off soon. Got a tip during the service about an old pirate captain.” The two shook hands. “Well, thanks for coming Beilert. Be sure to take a few slices of uj cake on your way out.”

The afterparty was just as wonderful as the wedding. The Ghost crew and the Mandalorians swapped stories. Food was plentiful, and the beverages flowed even more. A few people tried changing the music from Sabine’s preferred rock, but the only one that was successful was her wife. Mandalorians from every clan managed stop by. Both Dins came thru early in the party, as Grogu had an earlier bedtime than the Wrens. Bo-Katan and the Armorer managed to actually get drunk and scratched some lewd Mando’a into the back of the refresher door.

Sabine fired her blaster at the ceiling target to get the afterparty’s attention. “All right everyone, it’s getting late. Now if you want to stay the night, Shin and I have some spare bedrooms. BUT we’d like to be sleeping soon, so choose!” Hera was the first to reply, “I’ve got work to do, there’s some in-person generals’ meeting tomorrow.” “We’ve gotta go too, Alexs and I have our own vacation planned,” said Zeb before kissing his partner’s temple. “Ezra can we stay?” pleaded Jacen, “We have that new U-wing!” “Okay, but we’re gonna do some more Jedi training and exploring tomorrow.” Ezra was clearly just as excited to stay on Mandalore. “Yes!”

“So great, you invited you family to stay the night.” Shin was a touch annoyed with her wife. “Weren’t we gonna have some newlywed activities?” The overexaggerated wink made Sabine laugh. “Oh sorry riduur, did I not tell you?” Sabine feigned innocence, “Mandalorian bedrooms become soundproof and lightproof on command.” She flipped a switch, and all Sundari’s background noise went silent. Shin pushed her lover against the wall and started kissing. “Apology accepted.”

Mando’a Glossary:

beskar’uliik: literally “beskar transporter”, they have a dedicated vehicle to move lots of beskar at once

beskar’gam: Mandalorian armor

riduur: spouse, partner (Mando’a lacks gender)

uj: short for uj’alayi/uj cake, the best Mandalorian dessert

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa riduur: Mandalorian wedding vows, literally “I know your name as my spouse”, adapted from the Mandalorian adoption rite by “Runi”

#wolfwren #star wars #sw fanfic #nitearmor #sapphic star wars #kalluzeb #ao3 #sabine and ezra are siblings #sabine wren #shin hati #sabine x shin #bo katan kryze #the armorer #din djarin #beilert valance #ehn’yuste

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kalevalakryze · 1 year ago

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nuhoyir

pairing: bo-katan kryze x the armorer

characters: bo-katan kryze, the armorer, din djarin, grogu, ragnar vizsla, axe woves (mentioned) , sabine wren (mentioned) , ahsoka tano (mentinoed)

warnings: none

notes: based off this post!

Ruling Mandalore was not an easy task for any one person, but… well, Bo could not deny the fresh air at the feeling of seeing all of the people together. Every building risen besides her fellow Mandalorian, Niteowl, Child of the Watch, Bounty Hunter, even those who’d had to remove their armor to survive, as they’d flocked back to their Home in the time it took to rebuild. There was no shortage of things to be done, for the Mand’alor, or The Armorer, who hadn’t once left her side.

It was a new feeling, for sure, one that took a long time to get used to, but when she bounced ideas, plans, and even random nonsense off The Armorer, she was not ridiculed, she was not being suddenly impeached and thrown away like trash. Instead, The Armorer helped her see open gaps in her thinking, helped her understand how each decision would effect all points of view, instead of the ones she was used to worrying about.

Even a year after retaking their home, things still weren’t perfect, to say. Mandalorians still fought, and she’d found herself pulled into her own brawl or two, but Skira, who’d finally stepped away from the helmet every now and then, had helped Bo see that there was a strength in walking away, that shed already proved herself, she didn’t need to keep doing so.

Of course, both women found themselves in their old habits all too often. The habits they’d adapted to to survive were harder to drop than anything. When armor orders started rolling in, and she was still trying to train her apprentices, Skira often needed pulled away from the forge at night, needed help putting down the hammer and washing away the soot from the day. Bo managed to find other armorer’s, not nearly as skilled as Skira, but they’d known enough to keep their own armor maintained, had helped create their children’s armor from beskar alloys, and they were able to handle a large majority off training, until Skira’s schedule could open enough to move everyone a step forward. Even with her own adepts working on armor with her, she was only human, and Bo would still find her in the forge until late at night every couple of months.

Bo’s survival adaptations had been mildly different. On the off chance that she could be found in her quarters, trying to sleep, she would be near fully armored. She avoided rest like a plague and chased more and more work until she couldn’t hold up to any promises she’d made. She’d be found trying to raise beams and supports, or weld brackets together, so the morning construction crews wouldn’t have to work so hard… The biggest issue had been her temper running shorter than ever the longer she’d deprived herself of sleep, until the smallest mistake in her midnight construction would have her shoving her foot into a beam until the wood would splinter and crack under the force, rendering a large material loss until Skira got a chance to step up.

Even when she did manage to get Bo to rest, the Mand’alor would adamantly refuse to remove more than her helmet, jetpack, and knee joints, would sleep ready to activate her gauntlet’s blade or grapple, had buried the blade deep into her mattress on more than one occasion when a nightmare would have her tensing and striking out. It wasn’t until Bo-Katan had dropped in her storage room, had clawed at her armor and practically begged for help removing the chest plate, that Skira had decided the best way to help her Mand’alor.

Each night, Skira would pull Bo away from whatever activity she’d holed herself into, would make removing her armor a slow process each night, and would rub out the knots and stiffness in her muscles. It became a tradition of sorts, one both women would look forward to, where Bo would wipe away the mess of the forge from Skira’s skin, and Skira would help relieve the tension of carrying more than just Beskar on her shoulders.

For the last week, both women had been wrapped up in their respective habits, neither able to spare a moment to step away, not when Din was visiting to have Grogu’s first helmet fitted, and Bo-Katan had to handle her first debate with the New Republic over the Mandalore system’s control.

When Din had landed that afternoon, it was to an all new Mandalore. They’d created a life on the surface to withstand the weather, and had also burrowed into the planet, had started to rebuild the old cities that few could remember from their lives before the purge. Grogu had been quick to run off and tag along with Ragnar, both Mandalorians more than excited to show off the skills they’d learned,

“Be at the forge in an hour, Grogu,” Din called to their retreating backs, a small smile on his lips as he headed to the forge himself, pausing at the sight of the great forge, relit and in full operation. Nearly a hundred hammers echoed a symphony as each worked on some project, but The Armorer’s helm was unmistakable. He’d made his footsteps known as he approached, though he’d made it all the way to her workbench before she’d even looked up.

“Din Djarin,” She greeted, and eve the vocoder was dripping with exhaustion, causing the silver Mandalorians’ head to move off kilter to the side. “You have come for your apprentice’s armor,” Her gloved hands patted behind her, where half finished projects were waiting.

“Armorer,” He started, because she was lifting and moving pieces in a cluttered workstation, something he’d never thought he’d see with her. “The kid can wait some time, gar shuk meh kyrayc.”

The Armorer paused her search, staring at Din for a moment. He had been afraid he’d overstepped for a moment, before she’d exhaled and nodded her head. “This is the way,” Her heart wasn’t in it, he could tell, but she obviously needed rest, and what kind of person would he be if he didn’t state the obvious. He stayed with her as she cleaned her station in seemingly slow motion, stepping in every few moments to lend a hand with moving pieces and closing different mineral treatments.

It wasn’t long before Grogu’s babbles reached his ears, and his head turned to watch as Bo-Katan entered the forge. She held Grogu on her hip, and was offering him a tired smile. The two were having some kind of a conversation, he never understood too much, even now, but it seemed like she was just content to have someone listen as she explained her stance on the New Republic’s patrol routes.

“Lady Kryze,” The Armorer spoke first, as Grogu wiggled in Bo’s arms until she got close enough for him to jump the gap between his father and her, landing in Din’s arms with a self satisfied babble.

“I assume you also were on the receiving end of the Clan of Two’s most polite ‘you look like bantha shit’ as well?” Bo spoke, her smile tugging at her lips as her hand moved to clap Din’s shoulder as he bowed his head, and rest her hand on Grogu’s head for a second.

“It appears that way,” The Armorer deflated only slightly, before her head turned to Grogu. “I see you are learning well, Din Grogu,” Her words were met with another babble, and a satisfied smile on the apprentices mouth. “I am sure Ragnar will have no trouble finding both of you a place to stay, If you have the time, until I can properly finish the armor you’ve sent me the measurements for?”

“Take your time,” Din confirmed as he shifted his son in his arms, his heavy sigh filling the air as Grogu started to pull on a loose leather tassel from his bandolier. “I may need to see how well your training grounds have come along,” And then he was dipping his head and stepping away once more, departing as the two leaders of Mandalore finally got a chance to look at each other for the first time the entire week.

“Busy week?” Bo questioned dryly as they both headed to the exit, side by side, hands brushing as they made their way to surface.

“indeed, for you as well?”

“I could sleep for the next fifty years,” Bo confirmed as they walked the familiar path to their home. A thin layer of dust had settled in their absence, but both women decided it would be an issue for a later them.

As Bo ran a bath in their recently installed plumbing, Skira handled removing her own armor and setting it on the stand in their bedroom. By the time the condensation rose from the fresher door, The Armorer was already stepping in to start helping Bo, who’d been uselessly fumbling with the straps to her chest plate once more.

They were silent as they both settled into the large tub, Skira settling between Bo’s legs, leaning back against her front as the redhead started the soothing process of helping her clean away a weeks worth of nasty work, fingers brushing her hair from its braid as carefully as she could. When she was clean, and she could feel Bo’s lips pressing into the back of her neck, more so out of finding a way to lean into her from behind, the shorter woman stood.

Bo had blinked tiredly up at her when she’d stepped out of the tub, but one glance had the woman scooting forward, water rippling and licking at the edges of the tub as Skira settled back in behind her.

The only sound in their home were Bo’s quiet groans as Skira rubbed out each muscle, staying well until the water grew cold before either of them were close to willing to leave the calm sanctuary. It was when Bo’s head had dropped back against her shoulder that Skira finally made the executive decision to get them moving, unplugging the drain while Bo gathered the towels.

When they were dry, Skira was the first to settle into bed. They didn’t need to worry about finding room for Bo-Katan’s sewer drake, thanks to Axe petsitting when he’d noticed both women’s schedules growing busy (it helped that Ragnar loved the thing, too). Bo-Katan had been quick to shut the lights off and settle into the all too familiar position in Skira’s side, their legs tangling as a strong arm draped across Skira’s broad hips. Sleep came faster than ever for either woman that night, with Bo pressed close and her breath fanning against her neck, Skira was able to nod off in peace.

Morning came almost too soon, though, Skira couldn’t be upset with the view. Bo’s hair was a sprawled haphazard mess against her chest, her nose crinkled just a bit, with her hands fisted comfortably into the blankets near her chin. A bird hooted at the bedroom window, though she could not say it was one she ever recognized. With squinted eyes, she tried to place the green feathering, but. Kept coming up blank.

“Good morning,” Bo’s sleepy voice broke her peace. It was quiet, deep, and raspy, and combined with the woman pressing further into her chest, Skira couldn’t help but to comb her fingers through messy red hair, and press her lips to a forehead, textured with a battle scar, and the lines of spending too much time overstressed. “ ‘soka's bird,” Her Mand’alor grumbled into her skin, before pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and chest. “Mentioned visiting with ‘bine,” Bo continued sleepily, before her head settled back on Skira’s chest. “They’ll wake us up if they blow anything up, back to sleep,”

And well, who was she to disobey a command from her Mand’alor? It wasn’t like she would ever be able to move to tear the woman off her chest, that would be a cruelty she could never wish on the woman whose story had once been one of warning, that she’d watched turn into one of redemption, and the story she wound up falling in love with.

#bo katan kryze #bo katan x the armorer #the armorer #the mandalorian #nitearmor #star wars #take off your helmet #ahsoka tano #axe woves #ragnar vizsla #sabine wren #they're just mentioned #din djarin #grogu #they’re just soft #i'm soft #fic writing

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