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kanerallels · 3 months ago

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If You Could Read My Mind, Love, What A Tale My Thoughts Could Tell

My first contribution to @kaneraweek!! Shoutout to @singswan-springswan for helping me come up with this au

Taglist: @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @opalknight @ana-cantskywalker @cassie-fanfics @nyxlotl (DM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

Read on AO3!

Hera had known that blending in with humans would be difficult—and it was, for the most part. Avoiding iron, dancing around where societal conventions and the laws of the fae clashed, and just not knowing a lot of simple things combined to make life potentially awkward or painful.

But it was also…beautiful. Watching the lives of humans, who were so different from her people. Building her own life, such as it was. Running a business turned out to be simple in comparison to other issues she dealt with.

The coffee shop had been a longstanding cover for faeries in the area, and it had been more than one business over the years. Most recently, a restaurant, abandoned quickly when the faerie in question had completed their goal in the area. Hera, along with Zeb, her self appointed guardian who was far too paranoid about what all the humans were up to, had moved almost five years ago now. And to her surprise, they’d been able to make a profit.

Which was good, considering Hera had no idea when she was going to leave.

She’d had an original goal when she came here. Getting back the passkey she’d left behind when she’d come here seven years ago. It had taken her far too long to realize where she left it behind. Hera had always hated to be confined solely to the Other World. She simply wasn’t built to stay in one place forever, not when there was so much to see out there. So she’d developed a habit of slipping through the veil, visiting far off places and exploring a little. It was easy enough, with the passkey to guide her to nearby portals home and unlock them, if necessary.

But of course it was here. Lothal was an ancestral home for her people, to the degree that the passkey was barely necessary. And the night she’d come here to visit had been…eventful, to say the least.

That was the first and only time she’d ever been spotted by a human. Animals, sure. Even other faeries on occasion. But Hera had never been seen by a human, until Kanan Jarrus.

She hadn’t known his name at the time, of course, let alone anything about him. But now…she knew him. And he knew her, almost too well.

It would have scared her if it hadn’t thrilled her.

��Hera!”

Zeb’s gruff voice cut through her daydreaming, and Hera looked up from the counter she’d been wiping down. Nodding towards the door, the massive man—though technically, he wasn’t. Human, that is—said, “Customers on the way. Pretty sure it’s one of your favorites.”

“Thanks,” Hera said, ignoring his look of disdain. Zeb pretended not to like the humans, and for the most part, he didn’t. But Hera knew there were a few he had a soft spot for, whether he acknowledged it or not.

Ducking into the kitchen, she checked on the coffee—still fresh—and poured it into a to-go cup. After adding the cream, she started heating milk for hot chocolate. This took a little more maneuvering—the pot was made of steel, not straight iron, which helped. But she preferred to be careful when she could be. There was already a burn on her palm from her last brush with iron, and Hera really didn’t want more injuries than she could help.

The bell at the top of the door jingled cheerfully, and she heard familiar voices out front. Ezra was cheerfully heckling Zeb, as he usually did, and Zeb growled something unfriendly in response. And then there was Kanan’s voice, steady and deep, calmly mediating. Hera’s heart skipped a beat at the sound.

Don’t be silly, she scolded herself as she whisked the ingredients of the hot cocoa into the pot. He’s a customer, a friend at best—and most importantly, a human. Your heart shouldn’t be focusing on him.

Setting aside the whisk, she grabbed the to-go cup full of coffee and headed out front.

Kanan was sitting at the counter, watching Zeb and Ezra bickering. He glanced up at the sound of her footsteps, and a smile spread across his face. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Hera said, sliding him the cup, and his grin widened.

“How do you always know?”

“It wouldn’t be any fun if I gave away the secret,” she told him, leaning against the counter. “Ezra’s hot chocolate will be ready any minute.”

Shaking his head as he took a sip of his coffee, Kanan said, “One of these days you’re gonna have to tell me how you know we’re coming.”

“Magic,” Hera deadpanned, and he laughed.

“I almost believe that.”

That was the problem with Kanan. Hera never really knew if he did believe her when she made jokes that weren’t really jokes. He laughed at her jokes, those included. But there was always something that made her wonder, does he know?

He couldn’t. They’d met first seven years ago—a blink of an eye for her, but a long time for humans—and she’d looked nothing like she did not. There was no way he could know, and that was a good thing. The truth about who she was had to remain a secret.

“Hey, are you busy tonight?”

Kanan’s question snapped Hera out of her thoughts, and she looked up at him, surprise flashing through her. “What? Why?”

“I was thinking about how you seem to not know any of the best movies out there,” Kanan explained. “Figured we should fix that. Ezra’s going over to a friend’s house, so you could come over, we could try a few movies—popcorn and snacks guaranteed. What do you think?”

Oh. Hera hesitated, indecision tugging at her chest. “I…don’t know,” she said slowly. What if he finds out? Spending time in close quarters with a guy who may or may not actually know that she was a faerie seemed like a bad idea at the best of times. With Kanan…she couldn’t tell if the fluttering in her stomach was nervousness or excitement at the prospect.

“Hey, no pressure,” Kanan told her. “Just think about it and get back to me. In the meantime, what are the odds we can get some baked goods to go with that hot chocolate?”

The hot chocolate! “Absolutely,” Hera said, turning to head for the kitchen. “Just give me one minute.”

She ducked back into the kitchen, quickly checking the pot she’d left to heat up. Thankfully, she hadn’t been gone long enough for it to start boiling, but it was already heated to the perfect temperature. Carefully, Hera filled a to-go cup, added a few mini marshmallows and a dash of cinnamon, and headed back out of the kitchen.

Ezra had joined Kanan at this point, and his gaze lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, Hera!” he said, scrambling up onto a stool. “Can I have—”

“Hot cocoa, mini marshmallows, cinnamon?” Hera finished, handing him the cup. “Of course.”

Grinning, Ezra said, “You’re awesome, Hera. Thanks.”

“Agreed,” Kanan said, digging through his pockets for a minute before locating his wallet. “Add on a couple of chocolate croissants, and how much do we owe you?”

“About twenty bucks,” Hera said. Or…this is definitely a bad idea. But when has that ever stopped me? “I’ll give you a discount if there’s dinner with that movie tonight, though.”

Kanan’s gaze flashed up to her, and a slow, delighted grin crossed his face. “Sounds like a plan. Should I pick you up?”

Shaking her head, Hera said, “I know the way to your house, dear. What time?”

“Ezra should be leaving around five thirty, so…six?”

“Six sounds good,” Hera said as the bell over the door jingled. “I’ll see you then.”

Sliding her a twenty dollar bill, Kanan said, “See you then, Hera.”

She rang him up quickly, ignoring Zeb’s side eye as he helped the other customers. By the time they were finished, Kanan and Ezra were long gone.

However, that didn’t prevent Zeb from saying, “Tell me you’re not actually going on a date with that guy.”

Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “It’s not a date, Zeb. We’re just seeing a few movies and having dinner.”

“Right. Last I checked, that is the exact definition of a date,” Zeb pointed out. “Look—I like him well enough for a human, but it’s a bad idea.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing this isn’t a date,” Hera said, and promptly received a deeply skeptical look from him. “It’s not! We’re just friends, and that’s always been clear.”

Sure, he’d flirted a little when they first met, but Hera had made it very clear where they stood, and he’d respected that. Since then, their relationship had changed. Deepened into a real friendship.

Kanan was one of the people she cared about most, in this world or the Other. And truthfully, she was starting to think that she didn’t know what her life would look like without him.

But that didn’t mean this was a date. It didn’t. So Hera firmly put the idea out of her head, and kept working.

The rest of the day slipped by quickly enough, and before she knew it Hera was leaving the coffee shop in Zeb’s capable hands—they really did need to hire more employees, though where they’d find some who were willing to overlook the quirks of two fae pretending to be humans, she didn’t know—and slipping into the apartment she kept above it to change into something a little nicer.

Not date level nicer, obviously. Just a soft, dark blue sweater to keep out the autumnal chill, and clean pants. Pulling her hair out of the dual braids she wore for work, Hera wrapped it back with a green scarf and headed out of the door.

She walked, obviously. It was only a few miles to Kanan’s place from hers, and she didn’t have a car. Though there was a tiny, very un-faerieish part of her that wished she could drive one. The massive machines were fascinating to her, even if touching one could be incredibly painful. But she didn’t go enough places to even pretend to need one, and it was probably better in the long run.

Kanan was waiting for her on the front porch of his massive, slightly run down house when she got there. Hera still wasn’t quite sure what a human with one kid and a grandfather who only occasionally visited was doing with a three story dump like this, but she knew better than to question Kanan’s lack of logic at this point.

“I could have picked you up,” he said. “You wouldn’t have had to walk that far, and it’s getting cold out.”

Hera shook her head, heading up the steps of the porch. “I like walking. And it’s not that cold.” Which wasn’t exactly true—her hands were already ice cold, and she’d been able to see wisps of her breath here and there on the walk in.

Snorting, Kanan said, “Well, that’s a blatant lie. Come on, let’s get you something warm. I can make you coffee.”

Hera laughed. “I don’t actually think you know how to make coffee, dear.”

“Rude,” Kanan responded as they headed into the house. The interior was warmly lit and smelled like something savory and delicious, and Hera was already glad she’d suggested dinner. “How do you think I have coffee when I don’t show up at your shop?”

He led the way into the kitchen, which was painted bright yellow. Hera suspected it was a compromise from when Ezra had suggested orange, knowing the boy as she did. Luckily, it gave the whole place a warm, welcoming feel, and she couldn’t help but be fond of it. Bright colors appealed to the fae, even at their most elegant and refined.

“Are there times when you don’t come to the shop?” she asked Kanan, lifting a very skeptical eyebrow.

Grinning a little, Kanan admitted, “Not really.”

“I figured. Get out the coffee,” Hera commanded, heading for the coffee machine. She’d become pretty adept at working the various machines, and the one at Kanan’s place was as simple as they came. She worked on making the coffee as Kanan pulled the oven open. A wave of the same spicy, savory smell washed out and Hera nearly swooned.

“What is that?” she asked as Kanan examined the dish in the oven.”

“Birria,” Kanan responded, closing the oven. “And it should be ready soon. Seems like it turned out pretty well.”

Frowning, Hera said, “Didn’t you tell me that this takes a lot of prep? And it’s not exactly the kind of meal you’d make for one?”

“Possibly,” Kanan said with an expression that utterly failed to be innocent. “I might have made it with the hopes that you’d be here for dinner. And if you weren’t, you’d get leftovers eventually. Force knows someone needs to feed you—Zeb and the local takeout places can’t be solely responsible for you.”

Rolling her eyes as she pulled a mug out of the cupboard to her left, Hera said, “I’m going to choose to thank you for that instead of taking it as an insult.”

“I would never dream of insulting you, Hera,” Kanan said, accepting the mug of coffee Hera passed him. “Hey—what happened to your hand?”

“What?”

“Your hand,” Kanan repeated, setting his coffee aside and catching hold of her hand before Hera realized what he was doing. Turning it over, he traced a gentle finger over the raised burn on her palm, so light she barely felt it. Hera felt her stomach do a decidedly not unpleasant flip at the touch. Looking up, he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t try cooking again, did you?”

“Ha,” Hera deadpanned, trying to cover the relief she felt at the joke. It pushed aside a little of the way she felt, with his hand cradling hers and that concerned look in his eyes. Pulling her hand back, she said, “No, I just burned it working. Hazards of the trade.”

It wasn’t like she could tell him that it was from a cast iron pan she’d touched in a store. She hadn’t realized what it was until it was too late, and had barely managed to restrain her gasp of pain. There were salves that soothed iron burns, but fae healing magic didn’t affect that kind of injury. Hera would just have to wait for it to heal like any human.

She couldn’t tell if Kanan believed her excuse or not, so she quickly changed the subject. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”

That brought a grin to Kanan’s face. “Not a chance. You already made coffee—drink some of that and tell me about your day, and that’s enough for me.”

“Not exactly very helpful,” Hera said, taking a seat at the kitchen table anyways and curling her hands around her mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into her fingers. Though it wasn’t much of a replacement for Kanan’s hand around hers.

Enough, she scolded herself, pushing the thought away.

“It’s helpful to me,” Kanan assured her, leaning against the counter. “And it’s mostly a waiting game at this point.”

“Fair enough.” Gathering her thoughts, Hera began to recount some of the events of the day, telling Kanan about the customers who’d stopped in. Most of them had been there a thousand times, but in a small town like Lothal, there was always something new and occasionally crazy going on.

Kanan was a good listener—he asked the right questions, laughed at the right parts. Hera always found herself relaxing in his presence, sharing things she wouldn’t share with anyone else.

It was dangerous. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from it.

Dinner was ready in short order, and they feasted on the incredible dish. Kanan’s cooking was always fabulous, and this was no exception. Hera relished every savory, spice-rich bite, and didn’t hesitate to have seconds.

When they’d finished, and she’d helped him tidy up in the kitchen, despite his protests, they headed into the living room, where Hera settled on the couch while Kanan flipped through the DVD collection. “Let’s see,” he mused aloud. “You’ve seen The Princess Bride?”

“Thanks to your never ending rants about it,” Hera said wryly. When she’d first met Kanan, it had become obvious that she had some serious gaps in her knowledge about human life, and she’d done a lot of research. Most of it in the form of watching some of the many movies he’d been horrified to learn she hadn’t seen, and a few extras.

There were still plenty she hadn’t seen, however, and it wasn’t long before Kanan found one. “Really?” he said, popping in the dish and heading over to drop onto the couch next to her. “You’ve never seen The Mummy?”

“Are we really going to have this conversation again?” Hera returned, and Kanan laughed.

“Fair point.”

They settled in to enjoy the movie, and Hera did, to her surprise. Though she shouldn’t have been—Kanan had good taste, for the most part. Watching them with him was a new experience, but she liked being able to argue about plot points and joke about parts of the movie with him.

When the first film ended, Kanan put in the sequel—undeniably poorer writing, but equally fun—and made them popcorn. It was late when they finished it, but Kanan managed to convince Hera to start some natural disaster movie that he insisted was a classic.

Classic and fun it may have been, but Hera felt her eyes sliding shut only a little ways in. She jerked awake, suddenly and painfully aware that she’d fallen asleep for a little while.

Lifting a hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes, she registered the weight of something heavy and warm against her shoulder. Glancing to the side, Hera’s eyes widened a little at the sight of Kanan, fast asleep.

It was strange to see him this way. Usually he was so self possessed and confident, upbeat and snarky. Seeing him asleep, hair slipping free of its usual tie, felt…vulnerable.

Almost without knowing why, Hera reached forward and brushed a loose lock of his hair out of his face. Her fingers stilled, tracing along his cheekbone as she studied him, heart beating fast without any real reason.

And then she saw the cord around his neck. The necklace he always wore, keeping it tucked under his shirt. She’d never asked, and he’d never brought it up. But now, slumped to the side like he was, it had slipped out.

It was the passkey.

The blue crystal shimmered even in the dim light, and Hera stared, shocked. She’d suspected, of course, but…He had it all this time?

Why?

It couldn’t be because…no. There was no way.

She lifted her hand, reaching out to touch the passkey. She could take it now and leave, before he even knew what had happened.

Instead, Hera tucked it back out of sight, closed her eyes, and let her head rest against his. When he finally moved again, waking at a loud sound from the TV, she was fast asleep. She didn’t even feel him tuck a blanket around her and settle in to finish the movie, arm resting around her for just a second too long to be anything resembling casual.

No, Hera simply slept, and dreamed, and she would wake the next morning at peace for reasons she couldn’t even fully explain yet.

#kaneraweek2024 #kanera #star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #faerie hera au #writing stories is a kind of magic too #fantasy au

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vodika-vibes · 9 months ago

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The War Chest

A Magic and Knights AU

Summary: It’s been fifty years since the war between Mandalore and Serrano ended. A war that ended with an uneasy peace between the two nations…an uneasy peace that has since grown into something stronger. You are a daughter of one of the Noble Houses of Serrano, though only through marriage. You stand to inherit nothing from your step-family, unlike your mother. So, in an attempt to get your feet under you, you turn to treasure hunting.

Pairing: Pre Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 5400

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @the-bad-batch-baroness

A/N: So, I know Kix already has a story in this AU, but I'm giving him another one that is unconnected from the last one. This one, I think, fits a little better with the rest of the stories. Also, there's a fun little twist at the end that I'm not sure about, honestly. Anyway, I started writing this at 8 am and it's now 2 pm, and I managed to write it without any breaks. Go me~

“Rumor has it,” You arch a single brow as the man you’re talking to, a pirate who you’ve had more than one run in with, “That Count Dooku’s War Chest has been discovered.”

You wave your hand as if brushing the rumor aside, “Everyone knows that Dooku’s War Chest was propaganda from Mandalore.” You counter with a roll of your eyes.

“That was the accepted fact. 50 years ago.” He leans into your space and you lean back to try and keep him from breathing in your face, “Come on, girlie. You’re not even remotely curious.”

“I’m far more interested in facts, Shen. Not fairy tales.”

“Bah! You’re no fun.”

“If you want someone willing to chase fairy tales, you should be talking to Lyna, not me.” You eye your drink, and then push it to the side.

“Lyna is an archeologist,” Shen counters bitterly, “She’s all, ‘this belongs in a museum’ and ‘we should return this to its rightful owner’. She’s even less fun than you!”

“Come on, you tell her about Dooku’s war chest, and she’ll be all over it,” You say as you lean back in your chair, “Can you give me anything more than fairy tales?”

“No.” He folds his arms, “You were more fun when you were running with the crew.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve mentioned. If you’re not going to try and help, you can take off. Find some other patsy to do the research for you.”

Shen scowls at you, and then pushes to his feet and storms away. He hasn’t changed since you were kids, tragic but understandable.

In any event, you’re not going to get any intel on your next score here. So you suppose that the archives is your next destination. Which is a shame, the archivists are always so annoying when you decide to visit.

They’re all, “Oh, Lady Nalcin has come for a visit!” Which is annoying since, A, you’re not Lady Nalcin, that position belongs to your mother. And B, you don’t even carry that Nalcin last name, seeing as your father is still alive.

Mother just had to marry Serrano nobility, didn’t she.

You push away from the table and shove your hands into your pockets as you meander through the bar. You step through the open door, into the cool air of the autumn evening and you inhale deeply.

You love this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold, and none of the plants you’re allergic to are spewing pollen. If you could live someplace where it’s autumn year round, you’d be a happy woman.

Tragically, such places don’t exist.

You turn to the left, starting towards the inn you’re staying at for the time being, when you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You tense and half turn, your baton falling into your hand from where it’s stored in your sleeve.

And then you turn properly.

The person running up to you looks like a college students, slightly younger than you, with wide eyes hidden behind thick glasses. She’s gasping for breath, and is barely able to say your name

But, garbled as it is, she does say your name.

You slide your baton back up your sleeve, and take a good look at her. She’s well dressed, and she’s wearing a brooch that marks her as a daughter of one of the High Houses. She’s also nearly bent in two trying to catch her breath.

“...are you okay?” You ask, after watching her gasp for air for a moment.

“I-” She gasps out, “Not fit-”

“...I can tell.”

The younger woman takes a deep breath and then straightens, “My name is Evie Wilsi, I’m the oldest daughter of House Wilsi. You are the daughter of Lord Nalcin, right?”

“Step-daughter.” You correct flatly.

“Yes. That.” She takes a step towards you, “You’re…something of an archeologist, right?”

“In a manner of speaking, sure.”

“I want to hire you!”

“...what?”

The girl flushes, “I…um…sorry. I would like to hire you, please.”

You stare at her and arch a single brow, waiting for her to continue.

“I want to hire you to find Dooku’s war-” You roll your eyes and turn your back on her to walk away, “W-wait!” She grabs your wrist and then scrambles so she’s standing in front of you, “I know that this sounds…insane-”

“Dooku’s War Chest doesn’t exist.” You say flatly, “It was a rumor. No more.”

“I have reason to believe that it does exist.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Look, Miss Wilsi, I don’t chase fairy tales. Period.” You tug your hand out of her loose grip and step around her to continue to the inn.

“2 million.”

You stop mid-step, and turn your head to stare at her, “I beg your pardon.”

Her hands are clenched into fists near her chin, “Two million credits. You’ll get two million credits just for taking the contract, and another two million when you find the war chest.”

You turn to face her fully, “And if the war chest doesn’t exist?”

“Then…then you’ll still get the second half of your payment. But only after you exhaust all avenues.”

“And you can afford this?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes narrow at her, “Prove it.”

She nods and pulls out her comm, pulling up her banking information, before she turns the device towards you. You glance at the number on the screen and your brows raise, “Four million credits is almost your entire bank account, is this worth that much to you?”

“Yes.” She stows her comm again, “It’s…everything to me.”

You fold your arms, and shift your weight slightly as you examine her. Over the years, you’ve become very good at reading people. Part of it is your natural magic, an innate ability to read intentions off of people, most of it, however, is just experience.

She’s being honest.

Not only does she believe that the War Chest is real, it really does mean everything to her.

You drop your arms, “Fine. But I want to be paid immediately.”

“Deal! Is there someplace we can…talk?”

You turn your back on her, and start walking away, and then you pause and glance over your shoulder, “Follow.” You don’t want to see if she’s following your instructions, you just start walking, your feet leading you to your favorite food cart.

“A…food cart?”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” You reply as you order a caf and move to the side to wait until it’s done. Your maybe employer’s nose is scrunched up in distaste.

“Is this where you want to talk?”

“Surrounded by people? No.” You accept the cup of caf, and motion for her to keep following you. You lead her down several winding roads, and then make a sharp left into the biggest cemetery in the area.

You notice her hesitate at the gate, but you don’t slow down. If this means as much to her as she implies, as much as your magic is telling you it means to her, she’ll follow you anyway.

And you’re right.

Though she dithers at the gate for half a minute, eventually she hurries to catch up with you as you head into the older parts of the cemetery. As soon as you’re sure that there isn’t anyone around you can listen in on your conversation, no one alive at least, you perch yourself on the worn down stone wall and stare at the other woman.

“Alright. I’m all ears.”

“Here?” She asks, her voice hushed, “Isn’t it…disrespectful?”

You just tilt your head, “People don’t come to this part of the cemetery, which means no one can eavesdrop.”

“Right. Right.” Evie paces in front of you for a moment, and then she stops, “How much do you know of the Six Great Houses?”

“Assume I know nothing.”

“Right. Right! Okay. I can work with that.” Her hands curl into fists again, “There is a hierarchy to the six families, with House Dooku at the top of the pyramid, and House Wilsi at the bottom. House Nalcin is nearer to the top than the bottom.”

You lean back on the wall and take a sip of your caf, waiting for her to continue.

“This is why, 50 years ago, it was so easy for House Dooku to incite a war with Mandalore.” Evie continues.

“As I understand it,” You interrupt, “House Dooku was manipulated into it by what’s his face from Naboo.”

Evie looks genuinely pained, “You mean Court Wizard Palpatine?”

“That’s the bitch.”

She takes a deep breath, “You’re right. He was, and it was only after Count Dooku was killed that we were able to sue for peace-”

You sigh heavily, “Evie, what does this have to do with the price of chicken in Corellia?”

“...what?”

“Why does this matter?”

“Oh. Well, my family lost a lot of clout during the war…we sided with House Dooku. It seemed like a politically sound choice…so when the peace treaty was signed…we lost almost all of our status. We almost lost our noble name.”

“And?”

“And, finding Dooku’s war chest will do so much in helping us recover from this.”

“If it exists.”

“It does! It does. I’ve been researching this for years, my whole family has, and we have a solid lead.” Evie says as she steps closer to you, “It’s…here.” She digs into her purse and shoves a thin notebook at you, “All of the evidence is there, if you know where to look-”

You set your cup to the side and flip the notebook open, every page is filled with different handwriting. The notebook has clearly been in the works for years.

“Count Dooku had a safe house. He had many safe houses, in many different countries. But in the middle of the war, he vanished for three months. My family thinks he went to Hoth.”

You arch a brow, “Well, if that’s where he decided to hide his war chest, it explains why no one has found it.”

“Yes! Exactly. According to records, Count Dooku’s safe house was up in the mountains of Hoth, which would be nearly impossible for anyone to traverse at the time-”

“It’s still impossible to traverse.” You point out, “The storms of Hoth never stop, and you need special gear and equipment to survive even the lower parts-”

“Yes, but you’ve done the impossible before.” Evie says, “I mean, you’re the one who found Palpatine’s palace in Mustafar-”

“You’re not wrong, I just hate that you mentioned it.” You mutter.

“Can you help?”

You stare at her, silently, for a moment, and then you sigh and nod. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really! Oh, this is-”

You hold up a finger, silencing her, “Several conditions. 1, I hold on to this for as long as it takes for me to read it cover to cover.”

“Deal!”

“2, you are coming with me. It’s the only way for your family to get all of the credit.”

“Of course. I’ll even pay for everything we need to survive-”

“3,” You interrupt again, “We can’t leave for 6 months.”

“...what! Why?”

“I’m not fool enough to try and climb a mountain in Hoth in the dead of winter. And good luck trying to find anyone who will.” You say flatly.

“...you raise a fair point. So we’ll head out in the spring.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Evie claps her hands together in excitement, “Oh! You won’t regret this! I promise.”

Your gaze drifts off of her, lingering on a dark thread connecting Evie with something else, a thread that only you can see with your magic, “Well,” You murmur, “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it.”

“Hm?” Evie tilts her head, “Oh! Right, payment.” She pulls her comm out and hurriedly, very hurriedly, sends you the two million credits that you’re owed for taking her contract.

You watch your bank account shoot up, and then promptly move the money from that account into your personal account, “I need your comm code,” You say once that’s done, “I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”

“I can’t wait!”

And then Evie is gone, hurrying out of the cemetery with none of the grace that you’d expect to see from a lady of her standing.

You watch her leave, and then pick up your cup of caf and take a sip, while eyeing the notebook thoughtfully, “Well, it won’t be boring at least.”

7 Months Later

Hoth is a miserable place.

Frigid even in the dead of summer, with very few animals that won’t kill you as soon as they see you.

True to her word, Evie did prepare everything that you might need for an expedition, and then some. You have a base camp, vehicles that are suited for the freezing weather, and cold weather gear that is light enough to move in, yet heavy enough to protect you from the biting wind.

There are also people. So many people. Aides and attendants, and bodyguards. Not to mention maids and chefs and butlers. You’re not impressed, at all.

“So, I was thinking we’d go up the mountain in the morning?” Evie says, her eyes alight with some emotion that you don’t want to think too hard about.

“Mm, bad idea.” You reply, as you eye a group of men that you know come from a Merc Group, “There’s a bad storm rolling in, we go out in it, we don’t come back.”

“Oh, really?” She glances at the monitor and makes a face at the massive storm rushing in, “I should tell the others to prepare for the storm.” Evie mumbles, before she gets to her feet and hurries out of the room.

You’re alone for a moment, before one of the mercs brushes past you. “You should know,” He murmurs, his voice low, “The moment you find this treasure, we have orders to remove you from the equation.”

“Hmm.”

“You saved my life that day on Taris, this is me returning the favor.”

“Noted.” He glances at you, and then continues walking. The exchange took less than 5 seconds.

Luckily, you prepared for this exact scenario.

It’s not like this is the first time a client has betrayed you, after all.

You remain in the monitoring room for a bit longer, watching the storm build and grow in strength, and then, when you’re sure it’s late enough, you meander to your “room”.

You waste some time in your room, packing what few items you need to be able to survive in the storm, and then you cut out the lights, and you wait.

One hour passes. And then two.

And finally the lights dim in the hallway, and you know it’s time to go.

You don the severe weather gear that you bought yourself, grab your bag, the notebook, and you slip out the window.

As you figure, you have about five hours before anyone notices that you’re missing, and by the time they notice you’re gone, the storm will have erased any and all evidence of where you might have gone.

You walk quickly through the snow, wanting to get as far as you can before the storm hits. Though, you do take the time to veer towards a ravine just long enough to toss the notebook as well as a decoy pack down the ravine. With luck, anyone chasing you will think that you succumbed to the storm and nature.

The trick won’t work for long, but it will buy you a couple of hours, at the minimum.

That done, and with a storm moving in, you veer towards the mountain range. According to some of the notes you decoded, Count Dooku had pathways dug through all of the mountain ranges. You just need to find an entrance.

Luckily for you, Dooku wasn’t half as clever as he thought he was, and you were able to find an entrance in less than two hours. Unluckily, the passageways aren’t heated or lit.

You dig around in your pocket for your lamp sphere and light it with a touch of magic, ordering it to circle your head as you walk through the empty tunnels.

“Let’s see,” You say, aloud, to yourself, “If I was Dooku and needed to hide a war chest, where would I hide it?” You look around, peering down identical dark passages, and you sigh.

If you have to search every passage, you’ll be here for ages. There has to be an easier way.

You close your eyes for a moment, and focus your magic on your eyes, and then open them again.

Your natural magic isn’t the most useful for your chosen career path. You can see intentions, which is useful in foreign countries when it comes to bartering and when dealing with clients.

It is an innate magic, you don’t have to focus on it at all.

However, if you focus your magic on your eyes, and if you’re lucky, sometimes you can see traces of people’s intentions. Memories, written on the world around them.

It’s a desperate act. Dooku has been dead for almost fifty years. The odds of any of his intentions having been strong enough to leave an echo so far into the future is…unlikely, but you have to try.

As you fear, there’s no hint of intention in any of the passages.

You’re about to power down your magic, when you catch a glimpse of something higher than where you are. You focus your gaze on the dim glow and you frown.

The intention is…strong, but faint at the same time.

You puzzle through what you’re seeing. Strong implies that someone is actively in the passages with you. But the faintness implies…slumber, perhaps. Maybe someone lives in these passages.

Well, it’s better than continuing blind.

So you mentally mark the location in your head, and you start heading that way.

It takes time, though, to find the right path that will take you to the right level. The passageways were designed as a labyrinth, and you wonder if the passages aren’t complete, or if Dooku was just that paranoid near the end of his life.

You’ve never heard one way or the other.

But finally, after many dead ends, several looping paths, and one time when you thought you were going up but were actually going down, you reach a door.

You send a silent prayer to the patron god or treasure hunters, and then push the door open.

It creaks loudly, and another hard push causes it to fall inwards. “Whoops.” You whisper as dirt and dust swells around you. You wave the dust away from your face, and then step into the room properly.

It’s…empty.

Well, okay. Not really empty.

There, sitting in the middle of the room, is a massive crystal formation.

It looks man-made, to your eyes. Crystals don’t generally grow in such a deliberate way, at least not in your experience.

You move closer to the crystal and circle it, your eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Now that you’re closer, it looks like there’s something inside it. You press your hand against the stone and try to peer through the cloudy material, but you might as well be trying to look through a solid wall.

You rip your gloves off, and press your bare hands against the planes of the crystal. Slowly you feel around the edges of each plane you can reach. And then…there, near the bottom, on the opposite side of where you started, you find a single sigil carved into the crystal.

Now, sigils and runes are basic magic.

It is, quite literally, magic 101.

But you’ve never been interested in modern runes or sigils, preferring to focus more on the more ancient versions that you normally encounter while on your treasure hunts.

That said, runes are runes, right?

They all get activated in the same way.

So you pull your hand back and summon a small amount of magic to your fingertips, and press your fingers against the sigil. “Please don’t be a bomb.”

For a moment, nothing happens, and then there’s a loud crack. And then another one. And a third.

And you’re forced to dive out of the way as the crystal shatters, sending large shards crumbling to the ground.

Then you see what was in the middle of the crystal, and your heart sinks.

It’s a man. Maybe about the same age as you, or a bit older, with a strict military cut and a five o’clock shadow. He’s wearing mandalorian armor, with the symbol of the medical corps on his shoulders.

You hurry over to him and kneel next to his head as he releases a low groan. You push your hood off your head, and tug your scarf down and goggles up as his eyes flutter open.

He looks like-

Your lips turn down in thought.

“Hey, can you hear me?” You ask, shoving your concerns to the side.

“Y-yes,” His voice is raspy and he blinks a couple of times, as if trying to clear his vision.

“What’s your name, soldier?” You ask, as you help him sit up.

“Kix…M’name is Kix.” He groans as you sit him up and he looks around the room, and then at you, “Your accent…you’re not Mandalorian.”

It’s not a question.

“Good ear,” You pull your bag off your back and dig through it, please let you have enough cold weather gear for him. “I’m Corellian, born and raised.” Kriff, you don’t.

Kix looks around, sharpness sliding through his gaze as he shakes off the sleep, “This isn’t Corellia.”

“That is correct.” You reply, before cursing, “How good is that at keeping you warm?” You ask with a nod towards his armor, and the helmet laying half forgotten in the shards of crystal.

“Good enough.” He lets out a pained groan as he gets to his feet, “Why?”

“Well, because it’s a wee bit chilly outside, on account of us being in Hoth.” You reply dryly and you stand and grab his helmet. You make sure that there aren’t any crystals inside the helmet and you offer it to him.

“...Hoth?”

“The one and the same.”

“What is a Corellian doing here?” Kix asks suspiciously.

“Well, I was hired to find Dooku’s war chest.” You glance at the crystal shards, and then at Kix, “And I found it, apparently. I’m not generally in the business of saving people, but I suppose I’ll make an exception.”

“...what?”

You glance to the side when you hear, what sounds like, magic explosions, “Times up, I’m afraid.” You look around, and then find another door, “This way, hopefully this door stood the test of time better than that one.” You pull your scarf and hood back on, “Put your helmet on, it’s freezing.”

Kix pulls his helmet on, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “What’s going on? What’s with the explosions?”

You glance at him, before you focus on the door, “Oh. My former employers. The Wilsi family from Serrano. I was informed that they were going to kill me once I found the War Chest, so I decided to cancel the contract.”

“You keep mentioning this war chest, what is it?” Kix asks as he walks over to you and helps you open the door wide enough that the pair of you are able to leave the room.

“Well, unless we find a vault full of riches, I think it’s you.”

Kix pauses, “What?”

You glance at him, “There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s been 50 years since the war between Serrano and Mandalore ended.” He freezes, and you quickly tug him out of the room and shut the door, “Listen to me, Kix, I know that this is a shock to you. I know that. But if we don’t start moving, we die here. Can you contain your totally understandable freak out until we’re somewhere safe?”

It’s kind of eerie, having that blank helmet staring at you, but slowly Kix nods, and you release a sigh of relief.

“Come on, this place is like a maze. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.” You turn to the left, and Kix falls into step behind you.

All you have to do is find a way out, and make sure that neither you, nor Kix, die. And then, somehow, get him back to Mandalore.

No pressure.

“Can we take a break, please?” Kix asks as he helps her close another door, leaving the pair of them in a slightly warmer room, “I can’t hear the explosions anymore.”

She frowns, though it’s only noticeable because she pulled her scarf down a little bit ago. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve apparently been in stasis for fifty years-” And isn’t that a kicker, how is he supposed to deal with that? How can he deal with that? His brothers are all going to be in their 70s- “I just need a break, that’s all.”

She nods, and tugs her hood down, before she sits on a rock, stretching her legs out in front of her. Kix watches her for a moment, before he sits on another rock, “So…who are you, anyway?”

She blinks, and then laughs, “Sorry, I never actually introduced myself, did I?” She introduces herself with a slightly crooked smile, “My mother would have my head for such rudeness.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“I’m an archeologist. Technically. That’s what my degree says at least.” Her name, something long and complicated, does not suit her at all. So Kix makes a mental note to just call her runi, and then moves along.

“That sounds like you don’t actually do archeology, runi.”

“Eh, I go to old places and look for old things to sell to people who would rather stay safe than do things.” She waves her hand.

“Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re a tomb robber.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, so you have permission to take these items then.” Kix asks.

“I…well..not exactly. But I haven’t exactly been denied permission either-”

Kix smirks, “Tomb robber.”

“Yeah…well..what do you do?”

“I’m a medic. A perfectly respectable career that isn’t illegal.” Kix replies.

She huffs, but doesn’t respond, so Kix takes it as a win.

“So, I assume you have a plan?” He asks, “To get us out of this mess.”

“I have a broad idea of what needs to happen, but as for the details…not so much.”

“...what?”

“Why plan? I mean, they never work out like they’re supposed to.” She shrugs, “But in the end, I do intend to get you back to Mandalore.

“And you’re going to do this without a plan?” Kix asks.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

He heaves out a sigh and then stands and pulls his helmet back on, “Maybe I should stick around with you. Stars know how you haven’t been killed yet.”

“Rude,” She scowls at him, but scrambles to her feet and pulls her cold weather gear on as well, “I-” She pauses and her head snaps to the side, “Motherkarking-...they’re planning on blowing up some of the tunnels. We need to go up and…over, I think.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll follow you.”

Kix watches as she leads him through the winding halls, pausing every now and then as though she’s following a path that only she can see. Having some kind of magic would make her survival a lot more understandable, all things considered.

He very nearly stumbles as a massive explosion makes the whole mountain shake, and Kix has to tackle runi through a door to keep them both from being crushed.

Turns out to have been a good thing, as the room they ended up in had a single set of stairs that lead somewhere else. It’s good enough for Kix, as he hoists runi to her feet and ushers her to the stairs and up.

And up.

Finally she throws open a door at the top of the stairs and they find themselves in a workshop of some kind.

“This must be where Dooku did his magical studies,” She notes as she peers at some of the books lining the walls.

“Wouldn’t there be a teleportation circle in here somewhere?” Kix asks, thinking back to the wizards tower back in Mandalore.

“Well, yeah. Probably. But I’m not wizard, I might be able to make it trigger it’s last destination, but-”

“This mountain is coming down, like it or not. Anywhere is better than here.”

“Ugh…fine! Help me find it.”

The pair search frantically around the room, before Kix lets out a shout of triumph. “Found it!” Runi hurries over to him and, with Kix’s help, clears the teleportation circle.

“Um…let’s see, it looks like it’s set to teleport somewhere…west?” She says as she scans the runes.

“West is good enough.” Kix shoves her into the circle as the building trembles, “Can you activate it?”

“Can I activate it.” She scoffs, “Of course I can activate it, but I have no control over where we land.”

“Better there than here,” Kix points out logically, and she makes a face, but clearly doesn’t disagree.

The runes start to glow, faintly at first, and then brighter.

Runi pulls her hands away from the seals, her eyes widening in panic, “Oh…oh bad…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Um…” She turns panicked eyes on him, “The runes and sigils are reacting to the magic of the explosions…they…this is bad.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Kix asks, and runi opens her mouth to reply, but before she can say anything the teleportation circle activates.

It’s the most painful thing that Kix has ever felt in his life, and he’s almost grateful when he blacks out.

His last coherent thought is that he hopes runi is okay.

Kix wakes with a groan, this is beginning to become a habit for him. His everything is throbbing in pain, and it’s funny but his first thought was to question where his armor went.

“Easy there, vod. You’re okay.”

Kix squints at the man, one of his brothers, “-where?”

“You’re on the Resolute. We found you and the civvie passed out near a bombed out building. Seems like you threw yourself over her to save her.” Kix blinks a couple more times and finally he recognizes Vacc, one of the men he trained.

“...civvie?”

Vacc helps Kix sit up, and there’s a slightly jarring sensation when he realizes that he doesn’t recognize the medical bay. It’s…whiter and starker and has a lot less magical healing equipment than he’s used to. “Over there.” He motions to runi clad in some kind of medical attire, “She hasn’t said a word since she woke up.”

She’s curled up on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and her hands tangled in her hair. She lifts her gaze to meet his, and as soon as their gaze meets, her gaze darts to the portside window.

Kix follows her gaze, and his breath catches in his throat.

The Resolute was a sea-faring vessel.

But, for whatever reason, the Resolute seems to be in space.

No wonder she’s so freaked out. “Where…” Kix pauses to clear his throat, “Where are we going?”

“Coruscant.” Vacc claps his shoulder, “Get some rest, vod. We’ll be back at the barracks before we know it.”

And then his brother is gone, and Kix pins runi with a stare, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” She sounds miserable, “The explosion must have mixed with the magic of the teleportation…I don’t know, Kix.” She winces and clamps her hands over her ears.

“Okay, okay. Runi, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“How can you stand it?”

“Stand what?”

“The screaming.”

“What screaming, there’s no screaming-” She wraps her hands around his wrists as soon as he’s close enough, and then he hears it, high pitched and constant, as though someone, somewhere, is screaming in unending pain.

When she releases him the screaming stops, but she just tightens her hands over her ears.

“It…it’s going to be okay, runi. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Kix casts his gaze back to the window, just as a slightly mechanical voice echoes through the ship, “Preparing to jump into hyperspace in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”And the galaxy outside the window fades into streaks of white and blue as Kix folds his hands around runi’s hands, trying to help her block out the screaming.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #magic and knights au #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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