#foundlings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyzirkonia · 1 year

Text

Mandalorian tenets or the six actions.

Early Mandalorian culture, originating with the ancient Taung species, was believed to have begun as a religious warrior society, War was practiced as a form of ritual worship to their multiple gods and because of this, many of the Mandalorians' earliest conflicts were seen as holy wars and their warriors known as the Mandalorian Crusaders.

After the Great Sith war where most of the Taung had perished , the Mandalorians began accepting beings of other races and species into their culture and transforming what it meant to be a Mandalorian. Those who considered themselves Mandalorian were bound by a single, unifying culture rather than any one race, and they believed that an individual was defined by their actions rather than the circumstances of birth.

Resol'nare

Young Mandalorian children were taught a rhyme to help them learn the tenets of the Resol'nare (basic: six actions) These six tenets defined what it meant to be a Mandalorian, and any who wished to be considered as such was expected to follow them.

Ba'jur, beskar'gam, (Education and armor)

Ara'nov, aliit, (Self-defense, our tribe)

Mando'a bal Mand'alor — (Our language, our leader)

An vencuyan mhi. (All help us survive.)

This code is self-perpetuating and was directly responsible for ensuring the survival of the Mandalorian culture and society.

Wearing the armor (beskar'gam or ''iron skin'')

Once Mandalorians reach adulthood, they assemble a suit of armor that suits their needs and skills. It is both a tool and a symbol of their cultural identity. Aside from its defensive capabilities, armor served another function: in a group formed from so many different species, often times it was only the armor that displayed an outward sign of the culture that bound these individuals together. The paint scheme of a Mandalorian's armor occasionally represented a soldier's state of mind, or their personal mission.

As many soldiers preferred the inconspicuousness afforded by camouflage, Mandalorians believed in the saying:

"It's one thing to see us coming, it's another to do something about it."

Speaking the language (Mando'a)

While most Mandalorians know and speak Basic and other languages, all are raised speaking Mando'a, the language of the Taungs. When among themselves, they speak Mando'a almost exclusively. The language itself is very fluid and simple, reflecting the culture of which it is a part, and like the culture, it has changed very little over the centuries.

Mando'a was often thought of as easy to learn, a trait highly desirable in a culture that regularly adopted adults from numerous races and species. But there were difference speaker of Basic had to adjust, including Mando'a's expression of tense, and its gender-neutrality.

It was not unheard for Mandalorians to speak other languages such as Huttese and Basic alongside Mandalorian as it was necessary to communicate with others when working as a mercenary or bounty hunter.

Defending oneself and the family

While the Mandalorians are best known as a warrior culture, they are also strongly family oriented. Each member of a family is expected to protect the others, garaunteeing their survival and through this, ensuring the survival of the clan and culture.

Adoption was extremely common in Mandalorian culture, to the point where even adults could be adopted. Because of the Mandalorians' constant connection to war, widows and orphans became an inescapable fact of life.

Contribute to clans welfare

Each individual and family is expected to contribute to the welfare and prosperity of their clan, which in turn helps provide for the family and individual as needed. This act is far from the socialist prop it first seems, as it is a neccessity for a society that spends a great deal of its time at war to provide for such neccessities as food, shelter and manufactured goods when a large number of a clan's adults are on other worlds fighting.

Raise children as Mandalorians

It is a Mandalorian's responsibility to raise children in the traditions of their culture. However this is not simply an imperative to breed, as it might seem on the surface. Mandalorians often adopt their children, caring very little for blood lineage and bowing to the neccessities created by their lifestyles as nomadic warriors. This act is a mandate to perpetuate the culture, as are the majority of the Six Acts, by passing it down to both offspring and adopted war orphans.

Rally to the cause of the Mand’alor

While the social structure of the Mandalorians is very simple, revolving around family and clan, each clan and family answering to itself, in times of war all families and clans are expected to answer a call to war by the Mand'alor, the leader of the Mandalorian people.

The old and the new way.

In order to retain their heritage in the face of outside influence, Mandalorians placed a high value on rigorously carrying out the Resol'nare's tenets in a daily manner. However, interpretation of the Resol'nare differed, and at least one group of Mandalorians, the New Mandalorians, potentially followed an alternate interpretation of the Resol'nare by doing away with personally-owned sets of armor and refusing to aid the Mand'alor.

The New Mandalorians was the pacifist movement who placed great importance on the virtues of pacifism, neutrality, and nonviolence rather than martial prowess and military strength as the Old Mandalorians did. They were led by a Duchess of Mandalore up until its dissolution following the coup in 19 BBY.

Similar to Death Watch, the Old Mandalorians were exiled from Mandalore, but unlike their Death Watch counterparts, did not seek vengeance on the New Mandalorians. Instead, the Old Mandalorians resettled in other parts of the galaxy and worked for the highest bidder, maintaining their Mandalorian warrior heritage as bounty hunters, mercenaries and other professions.

"Here's why you can't exterminate us, aruetii. We're not huddled in one place—we span the galaxy. We need no lords or leaders—so you can't destroy our command. We can live without technology—so we can fight with our bare hands. We have no species or bloodline—so we can rebuild our ranks with others who want to join us. We're more than just a people or an army, aruetii. We're a culture. We're an idea. And you can't kill ideas—but we can certainly kill you."

― Mandalore the Destroyer

#the mandalorian #mandalorians #mandalorian culture #mandalorian armor #foundlings #the old way #new mandalorians #satine kryze #mando'a #star wars #legends #mandalorian tenets #six actions #clans

183 notes · View notes

sytortuga · 11 months

Text

"Rescuing Ragnar"

My take on how Paz would have found and taken Ragnar in as his foundling...

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanart #paz vizsla #ragnar vizsla #foundlings #foundlings are the future #star wars #star wars fanart #charcoal artwork #traditional artwork #charcoal pencil #btw #Paz Vizla LIVES!!!

163 notes · View notes

fwtcanimelover · 1 year

Text

Order 66 au

Where most of the Jedi survive order 66 because the Mandalorians get a heads up about order 66 and decides to adopt the Jedi. It starts off with just wanting to adopt the younglings. Then it escalates to adopting the padawans and the younglings, then the knights, then they wanted to adopt the masters for some reason, and you can't forget to adopt the temple guards, so before they know it they've adopted the entire Jedi order. The Mandalorians' adoption senses just keep on increasing and become stronger during order 66. It ends up becoming a competition to see who can adopt the most amount of Jedi. So the temple still looks the same with it being on fire, but there is a huge swam of Mandalorians coming in to surprise adopt a jedi, then coming out with as many jedi as they can carry. Yes they really did adopt Master Yoda.

The Kaminioans had a feeling that Palpatine was going to betray them, so instead of the inhibitor chips making the clones kill the jedi, it gives a strong boost to their Mandalorian instinct to adopt, so basically they adopt the jedi instead of killing them. So when order 66 is issued they adopt the first jedi they see. Obi wan was confused when his men started to shout "adopt the jedi", then even more confused when he is called a foundling.

Or if both scenarios are happening at once, it could be a competition between the clones and the Mandalorians to see who can adopt the most amount of jedi. The bad batch also joins in, they are confused as to why Crosshair wants to adopt the padawan so bad, but they decide to adopt the padawan too, Caleb Dume is now their son, Omega gets a space wizard brother and is happy that they too got a jedi. Depa got adopted by her squad.

Palpatine is confused and is fuming. He has even more trouble in the senate because the senators want to adopt the jedi too, where's their space wizard? They want one too! Then it gets even more problematic because republic citizens also want to adopt jedi. Instead of order 66 being called the purge, it was called the great adoption. Also Padme doesn't die.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #jedi #jedi order #Mandalorians #clone troopers #star wars: the clone wars #revenge of the sith #order 66 #star wars crack #au #adoption #master yoda #caleb dume #jedi younglings #foundlings #bad batch

197 notes · View notes

archadianskies · 9 months

Text

Named cast for my Mandalorian fic "Aay'han"

More for my reference, but also so everyone can enjoy how obsessed I am with the little one I've named La'ni.

#the mandalorian #behind the scenes #annie writes: the mandalorian #foundlings #ragnar vizsla #paz vizsla #din djarin

38 notes · View notes

agentscamander-romanoff · 1 year

Text

I am interested if foundlings are taking surnames of their caretaker? Because I am really confused. It's quiet easy with kids like Grogu,who doesn't have surname,but what about those who did? I think maybe they have a choice and if they refuse,they create their own clan like Din did,but that is simply my hypothesis and I want canon explanation.

#abandone #Ragnar is the reason why I thought about it #like he is foundling of Paz #but he never credited as Ragnar Bizsla so maybe he has a different surname but I am not sure if Paz is his biological father or not #and maybe Din hasn't heard name Din Djarin because he was credited by his caretaker surname but then decided to return to Djarin #it would make sense if Din was from different covert and later joined covert on Nevarro after he returned to his family name #or if he was from Nevarro covert he could simply decided to return to his family name and everyone is shocked/sad #'cause they don't understand why he his caretaker legacy but Din wants to honor his parents by contuining using family surname #but I am overthing a lot #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #ragnar #ragnar vizsla #I think?#foundling #foundlings #mandalore #children of the watch #mandalorian covert #mandalorians #or they calling every child foundling?#i need explanations

38 notes · View notes

freddos616 · 4 months

Text

foundlings? literally hetty feather.

#freddos orginals #doctor who series 14 #ruby sunday #foundlings #doctor who spoilers

7 notes · View notes

vox-anglosphere · 10 months

Text

They came in the thousands to start a new life in a strange new world

#British Home Children #orphans #foundlings #Canada #UK #farm labour #ocean crossing #New World #immigration #WWI

21 notes · View notes

kalevalakryze · 8 months

Text

Foundlings

For Bo-Katan Week Day 7: Free Day

Prompt: The Niteowls Pairing: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer, Bo-Katan Kryze & ‘Original Female Character’ & The Armorer Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Axe Woves, Koska Reeves, Other Niteowl Mandalorian Characters Warning: Children of war, canon typical violence, grief, accidental child acquisition Notes: I was rewatching guns for hire and started thinking about the way the fleet was looking at Bo when she walked up a little too hard. Also, I want alien and disabled Madalorians idk. This is also my first attempt at writing a zabrak Armorer too. Also, accidentally made an original character, and We’re going back to Skira as The Armorer’s given name ( making note of that bc I’ve been avoiding it in some of my more recent works ). Summary: “not a drop of Mandalorian blood,” Axe Woves had once said, as if his fellow Niteowls were not comprised of foundlings brought into their aliit across their travels. As if the woman to his right had not been found by Lady Bo-Katan a decade prior, and trained by the Mandalorian who cared too much. “Selfless and uncaring,” They’d called her, unknowing that those who bore the sigil of the Niteowl had each been foundlings of her own. Uncaring that she had trained each and fitted ill-fitting armor to their bodies, that despite the lack of the Living Waters, they had all taken their creed under her care. Word Count: 2,224 AO3 Link: Here!

“Easy, easy,” Bo-Katan called to the waking child. The Zabrak’s eyes blinked ope, before widening as she took in her surroundings. Blue and grey armored warriors stood around her, with her head pillowed in the rigid armored lap of a redhead, whose helmet rested on it’s side in the dirt. Grime and debris smeared across her face, brows pulled into a knot of worry, though relief shown clear in yellow-green eyes.

“Lady Kryze, we are running out of time,” The man to her side called. All their armor was damaged and covered in grime, like the smell of burnt plasma and sulfur hung thick in the air around them.

“I know,” She snapped when her head turned to him, causing the young girl to shift uncomfortably at the venom in her tone. She relaxed her features the moment she’d felt the discomfort, a small frown passing onto her lips. “Hey kid, we need to get moving, can I carry you?”

The girl shifted her weight again. “I can’t feel my legs,” She grumbled, voice low and hoarse.

When she tried to look down, a gentle hand grabbed her chin and turned her gaze back to the redhead. “Don’t,” The command was soft, more of a plea than a direct order. “Not right now,” The girl nodded her head, before she raised her arms. With a little bit of shifting and a dull pain in her hips, the Zabrak was soon wrapped around Bo-Katan’s neck.

The city was in ruins, masses of bodies strewn across the fallen debris of buildings. Stormtroopers, warriors in blue, and townspeople alike, fallen along the landscape. The child hung onto the strange redhead, allowing her head to be tucked close to the humans neck. Gentle fingers brushed against the back of her head, near the horns protruding from the top of her head in a comforting manner. The other blue soldiers walked close together, weapons at the ready as they blocked whatever view she could have with the closed in formation.

“Koska, could you…” The redhead started as they approached a ship landed in a clear part of rubble.

“On it,” One of the female soldiers brushed past before the woman could finish speaking. The sound of the ramp creaking open filled the crackling silence.

“Axe, Ka, Asun, can you three collect the fallen?” She turned on the ramp to face the small squad behind her.

“Yes, Lady Kryze,” The child couldn’t see who spoke, but he had a kind voice, if not a little stuck up sounding.

“Keep comms active, I’ll have Koska return us to the fleet before she returns,” It sounded more of a suggestion than an order, but the blue soldiers nodded their heads in agreement before three sets of feet started away from them.

They pushed further onto the ship, where the child was lowered into a pulled out cot behind the cockpit. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride,” The redhead frowned. “I am Bo-Katan, of Clan Kryze, we’re Mandalorians, and we're here to help,” She started to explain, digging through a medpack for something to do.

The small Zabrak on the cot stared, not just because of the real, living Mandalorian before her, but also because she’d seen a glimpse of the legs she’d been told to not look at yet. The lack of pain made sense, then. Yellow and black limbs had been mangled by the debris that had knocked her out. The memories had started to come back, then. The air raid sirens, Imperial patrols flooding the streets and shooting anyone who’d been outside, to the smell of jet fuel and the sounds of jetpacks landing all around.

The world was shaking a lot before she’d lost consciousness, she couldn’t remember anything past her home shaking and creaking with the explosions. “Hey,” Bo-Katan’s voice pulled her from the war zone that had been her life, a hand resting on her shoulder now and a look of understanding in her eyes.

The girl’s lip quivered as tears stung her eyes, until she was once more throwing her arms around the humans neck. The armor on her chest was cold and hard, but not entirely unpleasant as she sobbed into her chest, while the woman rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

There was an awkwardness to the woman holding her, a stiffness to her actions, but enough of a combined understanding that she rolled with what she’d thought was right. Not once did Bo-Katan shush the girl, or try to quiet the sobs that wracked her small frame. “Koska, can you engage autopilot and give me a hand?” She called softly to the pilot.

There was a bit of rustling and the sound of controls being hit, before the woman from earlier approached. “Get some Bacta around the wounds we treated earlier, everything looks clotted, but I’d rather be safe. Once we’re back to the fleet we can get the droids up,”

The other woman, Koska, did as she was told. The child couldn’t feel any of it though, aside from the pressure around her hips where she was able to feel.

Staying hidden in the offered safety of Bo-Katan’s arms, the overwhelmed child quieted at last, only the sound of their heaving breaths passing dry lips. One of the woman’s hands moved from her back at last, her upper body shifting and a quiet grumble following her actions, in some language she didn’t understand, until she was being gently forced away from her chest.

“Here, take a drink, nice and slow,” The small metal canteen was pressed into her hands, when they raised it to their lips, the woman helped her take slow sips. “There we go,” When the water was depleted and the ache in her head went away, she became briefly aware of the ship jostling. “We’re just docking with the fleet now, then we’ll see what we can do. We’re safe, here,”

The canteen was left on the bed, forgotten, as Bo-Katan once more urged the child’s arms around her neck and picked her up. The capital ship they boarded from the starship was old, and had a lot of the imagery her father had showed her from the Clone Wars emblazoned on the walls as they passed. Crates were stacked along the halls, full of more blue warriors, and even armored people not wearing blue, but reds, greens, yellows, it became a plethora of color once they passed through one of the larger halls.

The pair got odd looks every so often, though the child could not tell, only the blue people seemed to take off their helmets. There was a challenge in Bo-Katan’s eyes however, her head held high and her chin jutting out as they walked.

“Hey, did you get my comm?” She questioned after bouncing the toe of her boot off a doorframe once it slid open. Inside, a golden helmeted warrior stood surrounded by medical supplies.

“I have, the droid is prepared,” She gestured to the 2-1B series med droid standing idle by one of the many cots in the med wing. “Who is this?” She seemed rather attentive to the small Zabrak in Bo-Katan’s arms, causing her to shift anxiously.

“Hey, kid, this is The Armorer,” A pause, as the two exchanged a look. “She’s my Riduur, er.. my partner, The correction came quick as the Mandalorian reacquainted herself with basic’s term of a life partner. “She’s probably the safest person on this whole ship, and that’s hard to do with these guys,”

The child nodded before she’d finally allowed Bo-Katan to lower her into the cot by the droid. “My name is Staqi,” She finally spoke in a quiet voice, timid with anxiety and fear now that she was released from the secure hold of the first woman.

“I was once called Skira,” The Armorer shared. Stagi assumed this was some grand gesture, with how Bo-Katan’s eyes had widened and her lips had parted. Skira settled on one side, while Bo-Katan came around to the other to take her hand again.

“You don’t have to look,” Bo’s voice was soft when her eyes drifted to watch the med droid. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” The redhead’s hand squeezed around her own as yellow-green eyes shifted to the work on the lower half of the cot, her own nose crinkling at the sight.

“I don’t want to,” Stagi admitted, where upon her admission, The Armorer shifted from her perch on the side of the cot so her broader shoulders covered the procedure.

“You are doing very well,” The Armorer reassured her as she settled into place, her hand that wasn’t grasped in Stagi’s reached across the child to rest on Bo-Katan’s leg. A silent look was shared between the two, unreadable to the child who did not understand their unspoken language.

“I’m alright, Cyare,” Bo-Katan finally spoke aloud, her hand reaching to brush along the rim of the golden helmet. “Bumps and bruises, truly,” She’d promised in that same soft voice, with a kind smile pulling on her lips. It reminded Stagi of her parents, before the Imperials had come.

The Armorer seemed to take this answer as acceptable, as her attention shifted back to Stagi. For the remainder of the operation, the three passed stories, told each other about themselves, and kept the child’s mind occupied, far away from the operating table, somewhere almost nice.

Even when Stagi had fallen asleep, the two women did not leave her side, though she had a brief moment of wakefulness, when the gold of a helmet had been set down on the bed near her head. Her eyes had been blurry when she’d looked around, though she thought she saw Bo-Katan curled up in Skira’s side in one of the chairs beside the cot. Her skin was as red as the stories of Dathomir’s skies, with inky black markings outlining her face. The hair that tufted out around small horns seemed soft, and Stagi had fallen asleep with the thought that it was probably as soft as it had looked, as she’d tucked the golden helmet into her arms and fallen asleep hugging the cool metal.

When she woke up again, the helmet had been removed from her arms, though it had been replaced with the blue and white owl painted design, wrapped tight in her arms. Neither woman was around, but the med droid that was checking her over promised they’d only be gone a short time.

Curious, the Zabrak lifted the blue Niteowl helmet and slid it over her own head. It was comically large, though her horns pressed against the top in just the right way so she could see out of the dark visor.

It was awkwardly shaped enough that she couldn’t see out of the entire visor, however, so when knuckles rapped against the durasteel door frame, the girl had jumped, her head snapping to the side to find Bo-Katan, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and a smile pulling at her lips. “Good morning, The Armorer needed her helmet, so I figured I’d slide in a replacement,”

“It’s so cool,” The child finally pulled it off of her head, going to hand it back to Bo-Katan, who’d just shook her head.

“It’s even cooler when you find all the buttons,” The redhead perched on the side of the bed once more, taking the helmet and holding it in a way so Stagi could see the buttons. “So this one engages the rangefinder, here, put it back on, we’ll see if you can see out of it,”

A guiding hand helped lower the helmet back onto Stagi’s head, before the weird stick on the side was lowered. Peering through the transparent glass, the room lit up with the heat seeking optic. “Woah!” She exclaimed as the rangefinder was raised and set back in place.

“Then, if you press this,” Fingers fumbled along the side of the helm, before smoothing over a button and reaching for Satgi’s hand to guide her to the button. When the child pressed it, a bright light lit up from a headlamp. She pressed it again shortly after powering it on, since it seemed hard for the redhead to see with the bright light in her eyes.

The Armorer returned, and the morning continued much like the night before. The Mandalorians had given her the ability to search for surviving relatives, though when none were found, there was no question about where she would go.

In the coming months, it had been clear that Skira had more familiarity with children than Bo-Katan, though when it came to learning how to use her wheelchair and learning how to fight despite it.

Navigation on their home planet of Mandalore had been tricky, though The Armorer and Stagi had worked together to engineer easier access all around. She’d even been able to help make her own armor, learning alongside The Armorer and her apprentices. Bo-Katan, who’d taken up her mentorship, had helped her carefully paint the Niteowl sigil and the combined sigil of the two women who’d raised her over the years. Stagi became one of the many Niteowls personally trained by Bo-Katan Kryze, and after the loss of her ‘clan’, she’d been readily accepted into Clan Kryze, along with the Mandalorian way of life.

#bo katan kryze #the armorer #bo katan x the armorer #nitearmor #the mandalorian #star wars #niteowls #foundlings #bo katan week #bkw 2023 #bo katan week 2023

11 notes · View notes

xxlittle0birdxx · 7 months

Text

WIP: Obi-Wan raising Luke

The ambient noise of the palace didn't penetrate this deeply underground. Obi-wan had a hazy memory of Satine making a rough sketch of traditional Mandalorian homes, and the center chamber that would have been the site of a clan's last stand. New Mandalorian architecture had eschewed this sort of feature. Instead, they designed buildings that were the complete opposite of this round and windowless room. Luke had fallen asleep almost as soon as their dinner plates had been cleared away, his head pillowed on Obi-wan's thigh. Obi-wan didn't blame him. He had struggled a little with acclimating to the press of so many people around them. It seemed to overwhelm the boy at times. But here, in the karyai, the thick walls muffled the presence of others. The tension knotting Luke's shoulders eased almost from the moment Korkie closed the door behind them.

Bo-Katan watched him stroke Luke's hair for a moment, then murmured, 'You could stay here, you know.' She sipped her shig, without taking her eyes off him.

Obi-wan picked up his own shig, inhaling the citrus-infused steam. Dozens of past memories assaulted him, but he managed to sip it without betraying his inner turmoil by so much as a trembling hand. 'To what purpose?' he asked. 'Sell the boy and me to the Empire in order to take their attention away from you and your attempts to undermine and overthrow Gar Saxon?'

Bo-Katan snorted. 'Cynical, much?' She shook her head. 'No. You would become a member of clan Kryze.' She looked down at her interlaced hands. 'It’s what she would want.'

Obi-wan blinked the sudden sting from his eyes. 'I thank you,' he replied in a hoarse voice, 'but I wouldn't want to bring the Empire down on your heads by hiding here.' The corner of his mouth quirked up. 'I'm still wanted, you know.'

'Obi-wan Kenobi, maybe, but not Ben Kryze,' Korkie said.

Obi-wan's wry grin turned into a rueful smile. 'Yes, but I still have Obi-wan Kenobi's face.'

Korkie shared a pleading look with his aunt. She sat back with a sigh and gave him a single reluctant nod. 'You can wear my great-great-grandfather's armor. It belonged to my mother’s maternal grandfather. You can reforge it. Make it yours. You would never have to remove your helmet outside the palace, should you choose.'

His naked longing was almost too much to bear. Obi-wan allowed himself a brief moment to consider it. He could come to know his son, a joyous reminder of Satine. Proof that she had once walked on this earth. He could give Luke a family. He would grow surrounded by love and affection. He knew beyond all certainty that, should the occasion arise, Korkie would protect Luke. It was part of the Mandalorian Creed. But Obi-wan had witnessed the lengths the Empire would go to in order to find him. And if they found him, they would find Luke. He couldn’t in good conscience subject Mandalore to the Empire’s tender mercies. They had suffered enough as it was. 'This is an extraordinarily generous offer. If I only had to think of myself, I would accept it immediately. As it is…' He tilted his head toward Luke.

'You think we wouldn't care for your son as well?' Bo-Katan scoffed. 'He's a foundling. No foundling ever goes neglected on Mandalore.' A smirk twisted her mouth. 'This is the way.'

'It isn't that.' Obi-wan tucked the edge of the blanket around Luke's shoulders. 'He may not be my biological son, but we do share a similar trait.'

'Jetii?' Korkie asked.

Obi-wan nodded 'Yes. He will be.'

Bo-Katan snorted louder. 'You should let it die. What has it done but brought anyone a lifetime of pain?'

'Auntie!' Korkie hissed.

'Satine and I…' Obi-wan pinched the bridge of his nose. 'We…' He inhaled, and found a spot on the ceiling on which to focus until his emotions were once more under his control. 'We understood the consequences of our choices.' He met Bo-Katan's disconcertingly direct gaze. 'Even until the very end.' He brushed a lock of Luke’s hair away from his forehead. ‘Just as I’m fully aware of the consequences of this life. I won’t put anyone else in danger.’

#obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #bo katan kryze #korkie kryze #au star wars #obi wan raising luke #korkie is a kenobi #visiting mandalore #paying respects to satine #kalevala #kryze family home #can you call a castle a home?#foundlings #star wars au fic #star wars fan fiction #post star wars revenge of the sith #work in progress #meant to post this yesterday

8 notes · View notes