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luminoustarlight · 5 months

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As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Three

Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.

◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3

warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin

“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?”

Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”

Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story.

“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt.

“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing.

But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who.

“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”

“How so?” Sabine asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.”

Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?”

“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.”

“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.

“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…”

“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass.

“Widowed.”

“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.”

“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.”

“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.”

You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest.

“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause.

New Message from Skyguy81

“Oh, my God,” you say.

“What?” Sabine asks.

“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.

Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.”

Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her.

“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat.

“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.”

“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky.

“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.”

“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.”

Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.”

“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.

Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.”

You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love.

And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable.

It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know.

Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?”

Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet.

“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them?

Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks.

“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick.

“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.

“Is she pretty?”

Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles.

But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans.

Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus.

He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately.

“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers.

Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.”

Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.”

After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.

Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message.

And you still haven’t replied. But you read it.

And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting?

Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all.

And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy.

Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit!

Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles.

Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.

Is it good enough for you?

Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up.

Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;)

Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are.

Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you.

Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.”

Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.”

You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.”

“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.”

“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately.

He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair.

You’re his assistant.

You’re significantly younger than him.

The power imbalance (see 1 and 2).

That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed.

Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help.

You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up?

Impossibly so.

When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean?

To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips.

Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you.

I think I’d like that very much.

Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk.

Maybe in another life.

Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams.

The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom.

Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants.

“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.

“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.”

“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.”

Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?”

“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.”

“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?”

“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.”

Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?”

You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.”

“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.”

“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…”

This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.”

“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.”

“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?”

Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.”

“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way.

The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras.

Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand…

You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children.

Stop thinking about it.

But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home?

When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.”

So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?”

“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door.

What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed?

Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks?

“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.”

Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.”

“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her.

“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.”

Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.”

Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call?

All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door.

At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer.

Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?”

“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw.

“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?”

Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?”

“On your knees.”

When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator.

You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears.

Anakin says your name.

Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?”

“Would you like to go get lunch?”

It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?”

“I meant me.”

You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?”

“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,” Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty.

You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?”

“Yes. If you would like.”

You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.”

I think I’d like that very much.

That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin.

On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked.

He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question.

Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it.

Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes?

“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?”

You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.”

“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.”

“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.”

“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids.

“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?”

Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.”

You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!”

“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response.

“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.”

“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-”

You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.”

Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.”

You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it. Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #dilf anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #as fate would have it

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loth-creatures · 10 months

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Deranged and obsessed thinking about Ezra’s ghost on Lothal. His presence still clinging to the planet after he's lost even though he isn't dead. His soul is stretched across the galaxy, anchored to Lothal. In his dreams he is wandering the plains and can smell the grass and feel the wind so sharply that it can't possibly be a dream, can it? When he wakes he feels the same jolt in his core as when he went through the temple portals, the slow shift to reality as when traveling with the lothwolves. He can still smell the grass for a moment, still feel it brushing his hands. But it quickly fades to a distant memory.

Those same nights, Sabine swears she sees a familiar figure standing in the grass, silhouetted in the moonlight, eyes filled with the blue swirl of hyperspace. But she blinks and he's faded away.

#ezra bridger #star wars rebels #swr #sabine wren #Ezra's so fucking haunted #IM HAUNTED just thinking about it #I AM UNWELL #eel thoughts

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kazoosandfannypacks · 4 months

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summary: "Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast. Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul." or, "the au in which ezra falls for sabine without even seeing her face" word count: 7927 words a/n: I hope you guys are having a great week! the good news is that I'll hopefully be writing more fic over the next couple weeks! the bad news is that that's because I'm on crutches at the moment and avoiding doing fanarts for related reasons… let's just say, I now know firsthand that getting stabbed in the foot REALLY hurts. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, because I had a lot of fun writing it! It's my longest sabezra oneshot, so far, so that's exciting! shoutout to the talented and creative @kanerallels and the lovely and sillygirlcoded @laughingphoenixleader for betaing! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

This is (Kinda) The Way

There were two kinds of people Mandalorians disagreed with— others and themselves. For every disagreement a Mandalorian had with an outsider, they had even more among their own ranks. Customs, traditions, and language were the biggest one, especially when it came to the one thing that united them all— their armor.

Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast.

Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul.

🧡•💜•🧡

If this were a normal day, Ezra would be sitting on the familiar outskirts of his home city right now, feasting on whatever he could get his hands on. Instead, he was on a starship in the vacuum of space, with a group of rebels who thought it better to steal for others than for themselves— and somehow, it felt right, not just helping others, but the people he was helping others with.

In the few days he'd been on the Ghost, he'd gotten to know everyone pretty well. Hera was kind and brave, Kanan was cranky but meant well and cared about people almost as much as Hera did, Zeb would flatten him if he got within two feet of himself or his food, and Chopper loved nothing more than making others miserable— overall, it wasn't an awful combination.

The one member of the crew Ezra had a hard time connecting with was Sabine. Maybe it was because of how she'd shrug him off whenever he'd talk to her, or the fact that she didn't eat in the galley with the rest of the Spectres— but more than likely, it was because she was always wearing that helmet, and the armor that (mostly) matched it. He'd never seen her without it, and from what he'd gathered, no one else in the crew had either.

That afternoon, he'd run into her in the galley, as she was grabbing a meal to take back to her room. No one else was around, so he figured now was as good a time as any to risk a social blunder.

"Why do you always wear that armor?" Ezra asked.

Sabine stopped partway through the cup of juice she was pouring herself, just for a moment, then continued.

"I'm a Mandalorian," Sabine said.

"Okay?" Ezra shrugged. Mandalorians had come to Lothal before, and they'd had no problems with taking off their helmets. "I've seen Mandalorians take off their helmets before."

"Well, they must not've been from clan Wren," Sabine said. That was the closest she gave to an explanation before storming off, much faster than normal.

Ezra told himself not to replicate that mistake again.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Can I talk to you?" Ezra asked, taking a seat in the cockpit diagonal from Hera— Sabine's seat, he could tell from the paint job, but she wasn't around anyways at the moment.

"Sure," Hera said.

"I just," Ezra sighed, "I know you're the best person to ask— that is if I don't wanna get laughed at for asking or end up getting my question answered with two more questions I don't know the answer to like Kanan always does."

Hera smiled a little as Ezra said that, which he added to his mental folder of What Exactly Is Going On Between Kanan And Hera, Anyways?

"Why doesn't Sabine take off her helmet?" Ezra asked, "I know lots of Mandalorians who do, well, one or two of them, and I don't really personally know them, but..."

He could tell his question had been a serious one to Hera, because when he asked, she turned away from the ship's controls for the first time since before he came in. Instead, she turned to Ezra, her hands folded in her lap as she leaned toward him.

"Not all Mandalorians are the same," Hera said, "just like not all Twil'eks, humans, or Jedi. Different clans have different customs they adhere to."

Ezra nodded. That kind of made sense.

"What happened to the rest of Sabine's clan?" Ezra asked. It was hard to tell exactly how old she was because of the helmet, but she didn't seem too much older than he was, and he'd never heard mention of her family.

"Mandalorians are a brave people," Hera answered, slowly, "fierce warriors who don't like change in their customs and traditions. Naturally they're not the kind of people the Empire likes having around. I never asked questions when we found Sabine, at least, not after I learned she wouldn't answer them."

Hera shook her head, and Ezra nodded. The Empire had probably done the same thing to Sabine's family that they'd done to his.

"Armor is important to a Mandalorian," Hera said, "handed down from generation to generation. It might be one of the only things she still has."

"I get it," Ezra said, and stood up to leave.

"One more thing," Hera said, and Ezra turned back to her, "she may have a rough exterior, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need a few good friends."

Ezra nodded. If there was anyone who seemed hard to make friends with, it was Sabine— so if there was anyone who needed friends, it must be her.

🧡•💜•🧡

Even in the midst of yet another heated disagreement with Chopper and Zeb, Ezra wasn't gonna abandon Operation Be Sabine's Friend, so when he saw her painting in her room with the door open, he only felt it right to stop and say hi.

"What are you working on?" Ezra asked, leaning his arm against the doorframe.

"A little piece I like to call 'none of your business.'"

"Okay," Ezra shrugged, "well, if you ever get tired of painting 'none of your business' and need inspiration..."

"I'll be sure to look elsewhere," Sabine said, then mumbled something under her breath in some language Ezra didn't understand.

Ezra didn't have time to ask what that meant before Chopper zoomed by, running into Ezra and almost knocking into him, and leaving Ezra to forget about his quest to befriend Sabine.

At least, until that night, when he counted it a victory that Sabine had painted himself and Zeb on the wall of their room, even if it was the most humiliating representation of him he'd ever seen.

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra knocked on Sabine's door, and was surprised when she actually opened it this time.

"What is it?" Sabine asked, arms crossed.

"She must be in a better mood than normal today," Ezra thought.

"I just," Ezra shrugged, "I know you like doing art and painting and stuff, and you do a really good job at it."

"And?" Sabine asked.

"I," Ezra pulled a stormtrooper helmet out from behind his back, "I wanted to know if you'd paint this for me?"

"Why?"

"I wanted a helmet to wear on missions," Ezra said, "that way no one knows who I am."

"What, using other criminal's names as an alias just isn't cutting it for you?"

"I'm serious," Ezra said.

"Then wouldn't it be better to leave it plain?" Sabine asked, though she took the helmet from him, which was a good sign, and she held it up and surveyed its surfaces.

"Nope," Ezra said, "last time I went in there with a white bucket, Zeb said he couldn't tell the difference between me and the troopers and knocked me out cold. I don't want him to have that excuse anymore."

"I'll see what I can do," Sabine said. She closed the door before Ezra could get another word in, and he didn't see her for the rest of the day.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Look alive, Jedi!"

Ezra looked up just in time to see an unidentified flying object hurtling towards his face, and surprised himself by catching it— this Jedi stuff was really paying off. He looked at the large chunk of plastoid in his hands and quickly recognized it as the helmet he'd given Sabine the previous morning, though now it had a fresh paint job. Ezra didn't know much about art, but he could recognize Sabine's handiwork.

"It's perfect," he said, looking up overtop it to see Sabine, seating herself proudly on the table he was sitting at.

"It's nothing," Sabine said, "the only thing better than painting is defacing Imperial property in the process."

Ezra smiled as he tried the helmet on, suddenly remembering something else he'd taken— or, helped take, anyways— from the Empire.

"This is great," Ezra said, then leaned closer to her, "I just might commission you to work your magic on some other stolen Imperial property, if you're up to it. Something much larger than a helmet."

He could hear the excitement in her voice, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

"What do you have in mind?"

🧡•💜•🧡

"A TIE Fighter?" Sabine asked, standing outside the cave on Lothal not long after, "are you crazy?"

"Come on," Ezra said, wondering if this was a mistake, "you said you wanted to deface government property."

"How did you even get a TIE Fighter here?" Sabine asked.

She walked around the fighter, clearly studying its surfaces as though envisioning what they'd look like when she was done with it.

Ezra smiled. She'd already taken the bait.

"Zeb and I may have 'borrowed' it when we went on a wild meiloorun hunt," he explained.

"Yeah," her helmet peeked out around the wing she was standing behind, "and Kanan and Hera told you to destroy it."

"I know," Ezra fake-sighed, "but our options were blow it up without the best explosives expert on our team— or leave it as a canvas for her next masterpiece. I guess the choice is up to you..."

"Go grab my spraycans."

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra had never watched Sabine work before, but she'd said he could stay as long as he kept lookout at the mouth of the cave and didn't say anything, and Ezra took that as a step up from the usual.

He bit back his hundreth question in the last few hours, knowing that if he was going to get Sabine mad at him for talking, it would have to be something a lot better than "is orange your favorite color? Mine too."

He held his hand out and sensed as much as he could, every Loth Rat and Loth Cat within a good sized radius of the cave— but not another sentient life for about as far.

The very first orange hues started creeping into the horizon. They'd need to be getting back soon.

He turned back to Sabine, and since he couldn't see her face, he'd learned to read her body language to make up for it, and she seemed to really be enjoying herself and her work.

He'd never seen an artist at work before, and was impressed by how in command of the spraycan she was. Ezra had tried drawing once or twice, and found his Loth Cats looked like angry jogan fruits, and his people looked like a platter of noodles that'd just had a very bad day.

Apparently, reflection on his own inability to draw wasn't the best thing to do on an empty stomach.

But Sabine's art was almost less like a drawing and more like a piece of herself, like maybe if Ezra studied it enough, he'd see all the pieces of her she hid.

And if that was the case, then she must be absolutely beautiful.

"Wow," Ezra whispered, apparently not as quietly as he absentmindedly had thought.

"That doesn't sound like not talking," Sabine was quick to reply.

"Sorry," Ezra shook his head, not even having noticed until now how hard he was staring at her, "I just, how are you so good at that?"

"Practice," Sabine said, "a little hard work and discipline will get you pretty far."

"That's what Kanan's always saying," Ezra rolled his eyes.

"Well maybe you should start listening," Sabine called back, "or, at the very least, stop talking."

"Sorry," Ezra said, then looked back out at the horizon. As much as he enjoyed this secret painting session, he was getting hungry, and knew the rest of the crew would be suspicious if he missed a meal.

"We should get heading back soon," Ezra said, "It's almost dark."

"I'm almost done," Sabine said, adding one last white stripe, "there. Now I'm done."

Ezra got up and walked over to the TIE Fighter, in awe.

"Am I allowed to talk now?" Ezra asked.

"I guess," Sabine said. He could hear the sarcasm in her voice as she packed up her art supplies.

"It's amazing," Ezra said, "way to stick it to the Empire."

"I am pretty good at what I do," Sabine shrugged.

"Oh, more than that," Ezra said, "it's a shame no one else will ever see this."

"It's not about others seeing it," Sabine said, grabbing her case of spraycans, "this one was for me. It's about the process."

Ezra nodded. After seeing how lost in the process Sabine got, he understood why it all meant so much to her.

"Sabine?" he said, as they left the cave.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for sharing it with me."

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra had always thought Sabine was cool. He met her stealing from the Empire, and she'd jumped off a rooftop onto a moving speederbike— how much cooler could someone get? Combined with the custom armor and quick wit, she was strong contender for coolest person he'd ever met.

And the more he got to know her, the cooler she got. She designed her own armor. She was a weapons expert. She was, apparently, fluent in two different languages, which was probably what made her so quick to come up with insults.

Sabine always knew what to say, good or bad— usually scalding and rude— and Ezra didn't mind hearing it. Somehow she could make an insult feel as special as a compliment. It was almost like the sound of her voice was enough to give him unreasonable joy.

"Ugh," Zeb growled one night as he trudged into their room, "why haven't you gotten rid of that thing Sabine painted on the wall?"

"It's not a thing!" Ezra defended, sitting up on his bunk, "it's art."

"It's a stupid drawing of us from years ago," Zeb said, "and frankly, I'm getting tired of looking at it."

"Yeah," Ezra said, "well, I'm not."

He turned his back to him as he laid back down, but not before noticing a smile on the Lasat's face, and he could hear him chuckle over his shoulder.

"That's what I thought," Zeb said, smugly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Zeb laughed, something surprisingly not unpleasant in his voice.

Ezra recognized that tone. It was the same tone the guys on the base used whenever he'd tell them about the latest mission he'd gone on with Sabine, and it usually carried a "wow, Bridger, when are you gonna just ask the tin can out already?" with it. The other young guys in the rebellion were, well, just that, young guys. They could scarcely go more than five minutes without talking about girls and who was going with who and which girls they would be going with if this war ever gave them a night off, so it was only natural that they'd joke about the possibility that Ezra had a crush on Sabine.

But Zeb? Zeb had never talked with Ezra about girls or feelings or anything like that before, never even hinted at it— until now. Something about a mostly-trusted, somewhat-wise, maybe-in-some-ways-experienced crewmate hinting at it made the possibility of Ezra liking Sabine made it feel all the more real.

"There's no way I have a crush on Sabine," Ezra thought, "I've never even seen her face before. I mean, she is amazing, coolest person I know. And sure, I like spending time with her, and anytime I start talking to her I don't want to stop, but that's normal, right? And sure, my heart skipped a beat that time she grabbed my arm to pull me out of the way of Imperial fire, but what if that's just the adrenaline of the fight, right? Just because I can't stop thinking about her and want to keep hanging out with her for the rest of my life and feel all giggly whenever I think about her doesn't mean I have a crush on her, right?"

He looked over at her handiwork graffitied on his wall and smiled rather stupidly.

"Who am I kidding?" Ezra sighed, "I definitely have a crush on her."

🧡•💜•🧡

It wasn't too long before Ezra had realized that not only did he have feelings for Sabine, those feelings were growing. More and more frequently, he caught himself thinking about her when he was supposed to be doing other things like Jedi meditations and recon missions.

A favored distraction of his male curiosity was Sabine and her constantly shrouded face. He respected her privacy, and never attempted to see her face— besides, maybe the mystery was part of the charm— and often when he'd fall asleep at night, he'd try to imagine what her face looked like. At first, the faces ended up looking similar to other people, girls he'd met on the base, a bounty hunter he'd had a run-in with, or even a merchant girl he'd seen in the village. But every time, she seemed Not Quite Right, and he'd try again. Eventually he started coming up with all kinds of versions of her— one night she'd be a redhead, the next he'd imagine her with green skin, then after that she'd have eyes that were just black blobs— it didn't really matter. He'd only ever see her with her helmet on anyway, so what did it matter?

But even with the helmet, anytime she walked in the room, he could feel his heart race like she was the most beautiful girl alive.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Karabast," Ezra muttered, jumping back a bit by instinct from the blue milk that overflowed from the glass he was pouring it into and spilling all over his hand, and now onto the floor.

"I should know better than to pour myself a drink when Sabine enters the galley," Ezra thought, setting his drink down on the counter behind him as he searched for a cloth to clean it up with, "a Jedi has to stay focused."

"Need a hand?"

He heard Sabine's voice behind him and turned around quickly— too quickly, as his forehead rammed into helmet.

"Ow!" Ezra said, wondering what could possibly make an armor that hard.

"Sorry," Sabine said, and her gloved hand touched the now-sore spot on his forehead, "are you alright?'

"I'm fine," Ezra said, ignoring the pain in his forehead for the moment. He'd dropped the towel, and now he swirled it around the floor with his foot to clean up the spill, knowing that as bad as the injury was, it couldn't be nearly as bad as what would happen if Hera caught sight of the mess he'd made. "My forehead isn't dented, is it?"

"I'm no medic," Sabine said, opening the conservator and scrounging around in it, "but it looks like it'll be the opposite. At least you'll be able to make up one of your elaborate stories about the bump it'll leave."

"Oh yeah," Ezra said, "about how I accidentally went head-to-head with a Mandalorian and ended up almost literally crying over spilled milk."

She laughed a little at his attempted joke, then pulled a frozen bag out of the conservator.

"Put this on it," Sabine handed it to him, "that'll numb the pain and slow the bruising, or something like that."

"Thanks," Ezra said, and as he pressed the bag of frozen rations to his forehead, Sabine bent down and finished taking care of his mess on the floor.

"What happened, anyways?" she asked.

"I guess I got distracted," Ezra said, still distracted by her.

"While pouring a glass of milk?" Sabine asked, looking up at him quizzically before turning back to her work of drying up the floor.

"Yeah," Ezra scratched the back of his neck.

"I've noticed you've seemed a little spacey recently," Sabine said, "almost distant. Something on your mind?"

"More like someone," Ezra said, before he could stop himself, and she looked up again before he had a chance to get that stupid love struck smile off his face.

She stopped what she was doing for half a second, then got up off the floor.

"I gotta go," Sabine said.

"Sabine...."

She tossed the towel onto the counter behind him and turned to leave, but Ezra didn't want to see her go, not now or ever. He searched his words for something to say that would make her stay.

"I don't know how to ask you out!"

Ezra could tell without even needing to see her face that, as unexpected as his words were, Sabine still couldn't've been more surprised to hear him say that than he was. Still, she stopped and turned halfway back to him, so whatever he'd just done, had accidentally worked.

"What?"

"Normally if I wanted to ask a girl out," Ezra said, knowing the oncoming ramble was going to sound desperate— which wasn't entirely inaccurate, "which, technically I never have— at least, not with it actually leading to a date— but if I did, I'd ask them if they wanna go get dinner, which you, specifically, don't really do with people. So then I'd ask about getting ice cream instead, but then: same problem. So then I've been trying to think of different activities you like that we could do together, but all I could think of is fighting the Empire and defacing government property— which we already do together, and could do more of, but those don't really sound like date night activities, unless we were holding hands, but...."

Sabine had walked over to him while he was rambling, and now she stood in front of him, arms crossed.

"Are you asking me on a date, Ezra?" Sabine asked.

"I'm trying to," Ezra said, "is it working?"

"Me?" Sabine asked, "you want to go on a date with me?"

"That's the hope," he shrugged, "if you're up for it."

"Why?" Sabine asked, "is this some cheap attempt to try and get my guard down? It's not some ploy to try to see me without my helmet, right? Because...."

"I know," Ezra said, "you don't take your helmet off. It's a clan thing. I wouldn't ask that of you."

Sabine took a heavy breath. "You'd really go out on a date with me, armor and all, just because you like to spend time with me? No ulterior motives?"

"Absolutely."

"And you're okay with the fact that you'd never see my face?"

"Absolutely," Ezra said.

"How about a holofilm at seven tomorrow night?"

"Eat dinner separately first?" Ezra asked.

"Sounds like a date."

He smiled as Sabine walked away, unsure how he'd managed to do that, but very glad that he had.

🧡•💜•🧡

About halfway through the holofilm, Sabine's hand found its way into Ezra's.

"You're okay with the fact that I'm wearing gloves?" Sabine had whispered.

"Of course," Ezra'd whispered back, his emotions a flutter at the mere fact that she was on a date was him, that her hand was in his at all, even with the layer of leather between them.

Sabine Wren had said yes to a date with him, and now their fingers were interlocked as they watched a holofilm together at the base's rec room. Her helmet, hard and heavy though it was, laid against his shoulder. What more could he possibly ask for?

As they walked back to The Ghost together afterwards, their fingers were still entwined.

Ezra noticed the chill in the air— he'd been planning on it, and had worn a jacket over his nicer shirt tonight, because he knew either he'd be cold, or, better yet, she'd be cold, and he'd have the chance to do what the boyfriends in all the old holos did.

Much to Ezra's delight, Sabine shivered as a gust of wind blew across the base.

"Those old Mandalorian traditions don't say anything against wearing a jacket over your armor, do they?" Ezra asked.

"Well, no," Sabine said, and before she could say anything more, he'd let go of her hand, taken his jacket off, and draped both the jacket and his arm over her shoulder.

"How's that?" Ezra asked.

Sabine huddled a little bit closer to him.

"Perfect," she said.

They walked together in silence for a moment, Ezra knowing full well that if he opened his mouth he'd ruin the moment and blow all chances of a second date.

"Ezra?" Sabine asked, her voice a whisper as they neared the Ghost.

"Yeah?"

She stopped in her tracks, and he did too.

"Do you want to do this again sometime?" Sabine looked at him, her head barely tilted up, a glimmer of a reflection of the stars in her visor.

"If it's all the same with you," Ezra said, his tone still hushed, "I'd like to do this again a lot more times."

"Really?" Sabine asked, "you wouldn't have a problem going steady with someone you've never seen face to face?"

"Of course not," Ezra said, and he turned toward her and took both of her cold gloved hands in his, "I could spend the rest of my life with you and still not have a problem with never seeing your face."

Sabine didn't respond, and Ezra was bad enough at reading expressions, but especially when he couldn't even see the other person's expressions. Maybe that was too soon, too fast. On any other first date, that would've seemed too forward, but when you've been fighting side by side with someone for years, living on the same ship and sharing your struggles, a first date hardly felt like the first one. Still, maybe something as big as "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," was a little too much for a first date doorstop conversation, and he'd probably ruined his chances right there.

He loosened his grip on her hands, but she tightened hers, not letting his hands slip away.

"I don't always have to wear my helmet, Ezra," Sabine said.

"What?" Ezra asked, "I mean, I know you take it off to eat, and probably to sleep too, and maybe when you use the sonic, not that I've thought about that, but you always have to wear it around others, right? That's what Hera said."

"Hera doesn't know everything," Sabine said, "I can take off my helmet, but...."

Her voice trailed off, but he desperately wanted to follow it. He nodded and squeezed her hands a little, silently pleading her to continue.

"Our clans customs don't say we can't ever take off our helmets," Sabine said, "but that the only person who can see us without our helmets is our ruusaar riduur, our life partner. It's a huge commitment, one that some spouses don't even make with each other."

Ezra smiled. "So you're saying I have a chance?"

"I'm saying there's almost no chance," Sabine said, "like I said, it's a commitment, and I don't do so well with committing to anything, and, besides, we'll probably fall apart before we reach that point anyway."

"Not on my watch," Ezra said, not about to let anything happen to push Sabine out of his life, "and thank you for telling me."

"This still doesn't change anything."

"Of course not," Ezra said, "I still love you just the way you are."

He was barely an inch or two taller than her, but that didn't stop him from standing on his tiptoes, leaning towards her, and planting a kiss on top of her helmet.

"Same time next week?" Sabine asked.

"It's a date," Ezra said.

🧡•💜•🧡

Several dates and missions and trials and soft-giggles-while-staring-at-each-other-from-a-distance-es later, Sabine found herself with the choice to go back to help her people. Though Ezra strongly encouraged her to go, it wasn't without tears on both of their parts, and if it wasn't for the whispered, "I'll wait for you"s in their goodbye hug before she left, he would've certainly assumed it was over for them.

But instead he held out hope for them, trusted that the same force that brought them together and connected them across the galaxy would bring them back together, and his waiting paid off not long after, when he found her in his arms again, this time in a hug that meant hello instead of goodbye.

"I've missed you," Ezra whispered, holding her tightly and not willing to let her go, ignoring for the moment that Kanan and her entire clan were watching them.

"Me too," Sabine whispered.

He then let her go, knowing he hadn't made a great impression on her family the first time he met them and wanting to rectify that— especially when they began the mission to save her father. Maybe he kriffed up in his first meeting with her mom and her brother, but he determined that her dad's first impression of him would be a good one.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Are you with my daughter?" Alrich asked, as Ezra jumped in to save him as part of their mission.

"If that's okay with you, sir," Ezra said, then realized the question was about the status of her rescue mission, not the status of her relationship, "I mean, uh, yeah, we're, uh, we're here to rescue you."

Though his answer wasn't more rambly than normal, he felt more like an idiot than normal. Sabine always found his stumbling through his words cute and endearing, but the other Mandalorians didn't appreciate his candid words much, preferring instead to see action. So, Ezra made sure to show plenty of it, fighting alongside them later with such reckless boldness that he took a blaster bolt to the left shoulder and still kept going until the battle was over.

As the medical droid tended to his wound, Sabine sat next to him, holding his right hand lovingly as she sent forth a flurry of angry Mando'an words at him that amounted to a more colorful version of "don't you dare do something that dangerous and stupid again."

"Aww, 'Bine," Ezra smiled under his helmet, (he always wore one of his repurposed helmets on Krownest, to respect her people's traditions,) "I didn't know you cared so much."

"Maybe next time that happens I'll just let you bleed out," Sabine teased.

"You wouldn't dare," Ezra said, "besides, what is it you always say? Something about finding my combat skills and selfless bravery attractive?"

"Bravery?" Sabine asked, "more like borderline stupidity."

"And this one was skillful, brave, and borderline stupid," Ezra said, wishing his helmet didn't hide the playful expression on his face, "admit it, you thought it was hot."

"Maybe a little," Sabine said nudging his uninjured shoulder with hers, "just never do something that ho- stupid again, understand?"

"You and I both know I can't avoid that," Ezra said.

"I know," Sabine faked an overdramatic sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.

🧡•💜•🧡

Apparently his heroics charmed the rest of the clan as well, especially Alrich. Sabine chose to return with Ezra and Kanan to the Rebellion, and as her family gathered to say their farewells, her father bestowed upon Ezra a special gift.

"We want you to have this," he said, and handed Ezra a shoulder pauldron, one that was inlaid with the Wren family crest.

"Thank you," Ezra said, studying the heavy hunk of metal he'd been gifted, then looking up at Sabine's parents with gratitude, "it's a huge honor."

"You were shot protecting our clan," Ursa said, "and Clan Wren honors that. This shoulder guard will protect your arm while it heals. Not even your lightsaber is strong enough to cut it."

"Is this real beskar?" Ezra asked.

"Of course," Ursa said, "it belonged to Sabine's ancestors. Clan Wren has carried it for generations, and counting."

Ezra didn't exactly have time to unpack all the meaning in that sentence, but he was pretty sure those last few words meant something along the lines of Ezra being on his way to becoming part of their clan now, a high honor.

"Thank you," Ezra said.

"Be good to her," was all Alrich said in reply, and as Sabine's hand slipped into Ezra's, he understood what he meant.

"I will," Ezra nodded, "I don't intend to do anything that stupid."

"He made a promise not to do anything stupid," Sabine said.

"The jury's still out on how long Bridger can keep from doing something stupid," her brother interrupted, "but he's earned my respect."

"I'll take care of her," Ezra said, "and if I don't, well, I have full confidence that she can 'take care' of me, and probably knows at least a dozen ways to hide the body."

"Two dozen," Sabine said, and that's when Ezra knew he'd been on Krownest for too long, because there was something almost romantic in the way she'd just threatened him, and he'd been around Mandalorians long enough that he enjoyed it.

🧡•💜•🧡

As soon as they were back on the ship on the way back to the fleet, Ezra took off his helmet. He didn't like how it limited his visibility, its awkward bulk, how heavy it made his head feel. He then took off his gloves so he could fluff his hair up a little— another thing he couldn't stand about his helmet was how sweaty it made his hair, and somehow at the same time staticky, clinging closely to his head in a way that didn't feel natural.

He heard a sigh behind him and saw Sabine sitting on the bench he stood next to, the chin of her helmet resting on her fists, her arms propped up on her knees, apparently watching him with great interest.

"What?" Ezra asked, smiling as he sat down next to her.

"I've missed your stupid face," Sabine sighed, her gloved hand running along his scars as though she thought she'd never see them again. Though they'd seen each other a lot these past few days, Ezra'd never taken his helmet off unless he was by himself— or with just Kanan, who obviously didn't mind that Ezra didn't follow Mandalorian customs around him, and if he had minded, wouldn't've noticed anyways.

But Sabine hadn't seen Ezra's face since before they first went to Krownest together, months ago, and from the tenderness of her leather touch, he knew it'd been too long for her.

"Well," Ezra said, trying to flirt back and failing to find the words, "I'd missed your stupid, uh, helmet?"

She laughed a little. "It's good to be going home."

Ezra slid his hand under and around hers, and whispered, "you have no idea."

🧡•💜•🧡

Not too long after, Sabine and Ezra sat in the only place they'd ever found they could share a quiet moment together on the Ghost, sitting next to each other on the bottom bunk in Sabine's room.

Well, "sitting next to each other" was an understatement. His arm was wrapped around her, and her hand held his, and her helmet rested on his chest, and they were talking and laughing with each other in a way they were sure no one else in the galaxy had ever experienced or could possibly understand.

"I still don't know how I managed this," Ezra said.

"Managed what?" Sabine asked.

"The coolest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the entire Rebellion is my girlfriend," Ezra shook his head, "not bad for a street rat."

Apparently only one word in that sentence mattered to Sabine.

"Beautiful?" Sabine asked, "Ezra, you've never seen my face."

"I don't have to to know that you're beautiful," Ezra said.

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I've seen your art," Ezra started, "you're always saying that art is a reflection of the artist, and if that's the case, you must be absolutely gorgeous, because you're the most talented artist I've ever seen."

Sabine nestled closer to him and hid herself even further in his embrace, like she often did when she was embarrassed by how much Ezra was complimenting her. The joke was on her though, because he really enjoyed it when she did that, and it only made him want to shower her with even more praise.

"And I've heard your voice," Ezra said, "and anyone who can make an insult sound as pretty as you can must be very pretty herself. You have a really pretty laugh, too...."

"Okay, I get it," Sabine said, barely stifling a really pretty and slightly flustered giggle.

"I'm not done," Ezra said, "I've also seen how you fight, how graceful and smooth in even the most deadly battles. That's beauty. The pride in each and every one of your explosions that goes as planned, that's beauty. That tone of voice that makes me know your face is shining under that helmet: beauty; the heart you have that can't help but help others, no matter how you try to hide it— it's all so beautiful. You're all so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful to me."

"But you still haven't seen my face," Sabine said.

"And I've told you a hundred thousand times it doesn't matter," Ezra said, "that I'd spend the rest of my life with you, even if I could never see your face."

"And do you mean that?"

"Every time."

"Not just the 'if you'd never see my face' part," Sabine clarified, "the other part. You said it when we were younger, that you'd spend the rest of your life with me if you could. Do you still mean that as much as you did back then?"

Ezra sat up properly, this conversation seeming to have gotten a bit more serious and wanting to show that he recognized that.

"Sabine, I mean it so much more than I did back then," Ezra said, taking both her hands in his, "every time I say it I mean it a little bit more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But do you mean that?"

"With all my heart."

Sabine took a deep breath.

"It's not like I'll never take off my helmet," Sabine said, "showing my face would be a sign of commitment. It would show that I'm absolutely sure I want to spend the rest of my life with someone. I'd have to know that I love someone enough, with all my heart and soul, to want to them to be my forever."

"'Ruusaar riduur' is what you called it before," Ezra said.

"Yeah," Sabine said.

She slipped her hands out of his, and before he had the chance to wonder if it was because he'd done something wrong, he realized it must be because he'd done something right. Her hands gripped the sides of her helmet, then pulled it off her head.

Ezra found himself absolutely speechless as he looked the face that he'd loved for years but only met now. He'd pictured her looking hundreds of thousands of ways, but this face, with the big brown eyes, and the shy smile, and the dark hair that didn't even reach her shoulders and somehow looked flawless despite her having worn her helmet for the last few hours, and this face— her face— was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen.

It took him a moment to understand what it all meant. If she'd taken her helmet off, that meant that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him— the most beautiful girl in the world (and now he could with all the more integrity say that about her appearance) wanted to share her beauty with him, and only him, for the rest of her life? He didn't think he was lucky enough for this moment to ever come, but now, here it was, and she was lovely, and he loved her, and he'd never wanted to kiss her more in his life, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he could spend the rest of all time with her, and now, now he had to find some way to say the words that were swirling around in his mind.

💜•🧡•💜

"You don't have to do this," Sabine thought, as she let go of Ezra's hands, "he likes you, you like him. Why risk vulnerability and commitment?"

But as she looked at Ezra, she found she wanted commitment more than she'd ever imagined. She wanted him to know her face as intimately as she knew his, to see with his own two eyes who she really was, and for herself to look at him without her visor altering her perception.

So, slowly, giving herself enough time to stop herself if she regretted it, she pulled her helmet off her head, for the first time in front of another life form since she'd put it on as a child, what felt like a lifetime ago. It felt vulnerable, and terrifying, but also freeing. She looked up at Ezra and smiled a little, wondering if he loved her face as much as he loved the rest of her— as much as she loved him.

"Maybe this was a mistake," she thought, "maybe I should've just let him keep whatever version of me existed in his mind." She'd seen him flirt with lots of girls, back before they started dating, and none of them ever looked quite like her. What if, even without her armor, she still wasn't enough for him?

But the smile that spread across his face said it all, and if not, enough words tumbled out at a parsec a minute to make up for the verbiage his expression could've lacked.

"Why did you take off your helmet?" Ezra asked, and though anyone else could've left it at that question, the man she loved would never, and he followed it up with seventeen more. "how are you so pretty? I didn't know it was possible for someone to be so beautiful. Does this mean you want to spend forever with me, because I want to spend forever with you too? You're so pretty. I mean, that's not why I want to spend forever with you. I'd spend forever with you if I didn't get to see your face, but I'm so glad I get to see your face. You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life; I want to kiss you so badly. I mean, not that I'm gonna kiss you, unless you want me to, I just, I've never seen someone so beautiful in my whole entire life. I just, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, I mean, not that I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, but I couldn't've expected you to be so beautiful, but, holy kriff…"

Sabine already had a hard enough time with Ezra complimenting her on things she was often praised for, like her abilities and talents, but now that he was complimenting her on her beauty— she didn't know what beauty was, and how was she supposed to know if she was beautiful? Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and no one had beheld her before, especially not like this. As it was, she almost wished that she was still wearing her helmet, because she was blushing so hard it was almost embarrassing.

This had to stop. At the rate Ezra was going, he could go on talking like this for another three hours without sign of slowing down.

Though Ezra was the only boy she'd ever dated, she knew boys well enough to know they came with one handy special feature— there was a pretty easy way to shut them up, one she'd secretly been wanting to try since before they left Krownest. Somewhere in his rambled confessions, she'd heard the words, "I want to kiss you," and lucky for him, the feeling was mutual.

Before his lips could get him into any more trouble, she took over for them, grabbing him by the shirt collar and sending his lips crashing into hers. It still took him a couple seconds to grasp what was happening and shut up— that's about when the whispered "holy kriff" at the end came in— but he quickly understood the assignment, and as his lips touched hers, his hand touched her face, something passionate and gentle and unfamiliar and overwhelming. No one had seen her face before, let alone touched it. And now, here was his hand, his fingers twirling on her cheek, his other hand on her neck, with his thumb stroking a soft spot behind her ear.

She pulled away from him, all of it seeming too good to be true. But when she read the love and excitement in his shining blue eyes, she believed it herself.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

And now, she was absolutely certain that he meant it.

💜•🧡•💜

A few months later, they were back on Krownest— not for war, or for reunion, but for a wedding.

Sabine had told Ezra that he didn't need to adapt to her customs, that if they forged him his own armor, he'd be making the same commitment to it she had, but he insisted on becoming part of her world. She'd painted his armor herself, colors custom chosen by them both, and repainted her own armor to match it. He'd started wearing the helmet right away, partly because it was better than the repurposed trooper helmet he'd been wearing, and partly because he wanted to get used to the weight of it, and partly because he enjoyed looking like he belonged here.

But except for that and the left shoulder guard that he'd scarcely taken off since he got it, Ezra hadn't worn the rest of his armor until today, when they stood side by side in a private wedding ceremony they held on the Ghost. It was a small gathering, Sabine's family and the Spectres as the only guests in attendance, but the happy couple hardly even noticed them. The ceremony passed quickly, even for a Mandalorian one, which was always quick anyways.

If you'd asked her later, Sabine wouldn't be able to tell you much from that day, except for Ezra, and how she could almost feel the look on his face as he said his vows to her, and how deeply they both meant it when they declared themselves one with each other, and how there'd never been a more precious keldabe kiss (or "bonk of endearment" as Ezra would often call it in his silly little way with words) than the one that followed that ceremony.

And the most perfect moment of her life would come that night, when Ezra held her in his arms without a scrap of beskar coming between them, a pure, intimate, human connection, one that spoke of love, a love of their own, beyond either of their wildest dreams.

💜•🧡•💜

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kanerallels · 2 months

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A little late but! Some Kanera for @monthly-challenge Februfluff day 16: caretaking

Ever since Malachor, Kanan had spent a lot of time up at odd hours. A combination of nightmares, lingering pain from his wounds, and painkillers had seen him up in the wee hours of the morning while he was recovering. Even now that things were getting back to normal, he still woke up at random hours.

Some nights he went back to sleep. Others he meditated, either in his room or out on the far edge of the base.

And other nights, like tonight, the restless energy was too much for him. So he got up, slipping out of his room quietly so as to not wake any of the others on board the Ghost.

Kanan’s goal was the kitchen, as it usually was. Sometimes he’d make caf or tea, other times he’d make himself something to eat. Ezra had joined him a few times lately, so as he made his way down the hallway, he listened carefully.

He didn’t hear anything immediately. But as he entered the lounge, he sensed a familiar presence, and it wasn’t Ezra.

“Hera?” he asked, keeping his voice low as he frowned.

“Kanan?” Surprise colored her voice, and he heard her set down what sounded like a datapad. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kanan said, crossing the room to stand in front of the table she was sitting at. Letting his fingertips brush the tabletop, grounding himself, he said, “Is it the same for you, or have you just not gone to sleep yet?”

Her hesitation answered the question for him, and Kanan held back a wince. Hera had always had a habit of working long hours, from the first day he’d met her. It had only grown worse since they’d joined the Rebellion. And these days it had reached a fever pitch. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” he asked.

“When was the last time you did?” Hera countered, and Kanan couldn’t hold back a grin.

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m at least trying. You’ve been up since crazy early this morning— you need rest, Hera. We need you operating at your best.”

He heard her sigh— a sigh that he recognized well. It was the stubborn one, that meant she had no intentions of listening to him. “What we need is more people in this Rebellion. Until then, I’m what we’ve got. The longer I let these things slide, the worse it’ll get.”

She’s definitely not gonna listen to me. Plan B, then. “Okay,” Kanan said with a sigh. “I’m going to make something to drink. You want something?”

“Yes, please,” Hera murmured, her voice distracting as she tapped at her datapad. Already back to work. Kanan grimaced as he headed into the kitchen. This wasn’t going to be easy.

It took him a few minutes to locate the kettle— someone had moved it from its usual place. Filling it with water, he set it on the stove and started sorting through the tea boxes in the cupboard.

Sabine had recently gone through the cupboards and relabelled everything. She’d used a Morse code inspired system of raised dots and dashes, so Kanan could still read the labels. It was still taking a little getting used to, but it certainly helped with baking. Or, in this case, locating tea.

It wasn’t long before he found the teabags he was looking for— Chandrilan tea, fairly well known for its soothing quality that helped with sleeplessness. Leaving them on the counter, he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard just as the kettle started to whistle. He was pretty certain that he’d gotten the right mugs— he and Hera had drunk caf together enough times that blind or not, Kanan would know the shape and feeling of her favorite one in his hand anywhere.

Setting them down, he carefully filled them with hot water from the kettle, and added the teabags. Leaving them to steep for a while, he went to the other side of the kitchen and started digging through the fridge. While it wasn’t absolutely necessary to his plan, Kanan was pretty sure it had been a while since Hera had eaten— thinking back, he didn’t remember her being there with them at dinner. Internally, he cursed. I’ve been way too distracted lately. That stops now.

He almost got out the ingredients for waffles— but if he did, there was no way Ezra wouldn’t be out here in less than five minutes. His apprentice had an uncanny ability to sense when Kanan was making waffles, and the last thing he needed was more people up right now. The current goal was to get Hera to sleep, not keep her awake longer.

So instead, he pulled out a container of leftover chicken pot pie and heated that up. Filling a bowl with it, he stopped to collect their two mugs and a fork, and headed back out to the lounge.

Hera was still absorbed in her datapad, and didn’t notice as Kanan set the bowl, then the mug in front of her. Kanan paused for a minute, then said, “Hera?”

“Hmm?” Her voice was distracted, and Kanan sighed.

“Sorry about this.” Reaching out, he plucked the datapad out of her hands.

“Wha— Kanan!”

Tucking the pad under his arm, Kanan reached out with the other hand and pushed the bowl in front of her. “Eat,” he said firmly. “And have some tea. I’ll give it back when you’ve finished.”

“Kanan—”

“Hera,” Kanan said, his voice a little more forceful. “Just do it.”

There was a brief pause, and Kanan could picture the struggle in Hera’s eyes. Finally, she let out a long sigh. “Fine. But I’m getting back to work after that.”

Kanan chose not to comment on that. Instead, he settled next to her with his own mug. Listening to the sound of the fork clinking against the bowl, he sipped his tea, letting the silence settle around them.

It was a little while before Hera spoke. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kanan smiled into his mug. “Any time, Hera. Have you drunk your tea yet?”

Letting out a huff, Hera said, “You know, you’re awfully hover-y tonight, Master Jedi.”

“Making up for lost time, Captain Hera.”

“I’m glad.” Her response was softer, a little warmer, and Kanan felt her shift a little closer to him, shoulder bumping against his.

There was a brief silence, then Hera said, “So, what’s it gonna take for me to get that datapad back?”

Kanan laughed. “Tell you what. You drink your tea, and I'll let you have your datapad back.”

“Datapad first,” Hera said. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, dear. It’s not going to work.”

Handing her the pad, Kanan said innocently, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh.”

As Hera leaned forward, picking up the mug of tea, Kanan slid nearer to her, closing the distance between them. She didn’t protest, nestling in the crook of his shoulder with a quiet sigh. Kanan wrapped her arm around her shoulders, and they settled into an easy silence.

The next little while passed by peacefully, with Hera working at her datapad and Kanan keeping her company. However, as time ticked by and Hera finished her tea, he could sense her getting more and more tired. The sound of her tapping at the datapad was less frequent, and he heard her stifle multiple yawns.

Gently, he brushed his fingertips up and down her arm, a repetitive, soothing stroke that was sure to lull her to sleep. It was one of his most surefire tactics, and it didn’t disappoint. Kanan felt her head bump against his shoulder before pulling upwards again. “I know what you’re doing,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleepiness.

Silently, Kanan reached out with the Force just in time to catch the datapad that slipped from Hera’s fingers. “I know,” he murmured as her head dropped against his shoulder. “You can yell at me tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Her words trailed off into an incomprehensible hum, and Kanan smiled. It was only seconds later that he felt her breathing even out into the slow rhythm of sleep.

“Sleep well, Captain Hera,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her temple before closing his own eyes. He had a feeling nightmares wouldn’t bother him here.

#star wars rebels #swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #februfluff2024 #caretaking #day 16 #writing stories is a kind of magic too

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illuminatedquill · 3 months

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All Mine

A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger Story

Story Summary: A mission for the Ghost crew takes an unexpected turn when Ezra Bridger reunites with a childhood crush, Shana Tavorri. Sabine Wren, his close friend and partner, must deal with newfound feelings of jealousy - and possibly more - over their relationship.

For Sabezra Day 2024, @sabezraweek

Prompt: Confessing

Bright Jewel System, Mid-Rim Territories

"Look lively," called Hera from the Ghost's cockpit. "Just picked up the Phantom II signal."

Sabine was sitting with Ezra in the Ghost's communal area, playing a game of dejarik. At Hera's call, Ezra sighed and turned the game off. "Well," he said regretfully, "looks like duty calls, Sabine."

She smirked at him and replied, "Lucky for you that it's calling. I was about to bulldoze all over your pathetic defense there at the end." Sabine knew that she had him on the ropes at the game's end. Much as she respected her friend's prowess in battle, Ezra never was much of a tactician.

But, then again, his powers as Jedi certainly did give him options that weren't available to an average combatant. His strategies tended to fall outside the usual box of combat thinking, as Captain Rex - a veteran of the Clone Wars and no stranger to Jedi tactics - put it mildly one time.

It's probably why we work so well together as a team, Sabine reflected. She was one of the only people who could keep up with whatever crazy plan Ezra developed on the fly.

Ezra scowled at her. "My defense was solid, thank you. I was actually about to achieve victory. You're the one who is lucky."

That elicited a laugh from her. "Whatever makes you feel better, goober."

He opened his mouth to further argue the point but was interrupted as Hera emerged from the cockpit followed closely by Chopper. Sighing at the sight of them bickering, she planted both hands on her hips, her expression exasperated.

"Come on, you two," she said. "Let's be good hosts and greet the guest."

Ezra threw Sabine a 'we'll settle this later' look and followed Hera towards the Ghost's stern where the Phantom II had docked. Sabine replied by cheerfully sticking her tongue out at him, as she fell in step behind.

This 'guest', as Hera put it, was a Rebel spy part of the Fulcrum agent network. Three days ago, the Ghost crew had received a transmission from an unexpected source: Princess Leia Organa, the daughter to Senator Bail Organa. She had asked them to rendezvous in the Bright Jewel System where this spy had requested backup to make a trade with an Imperial informant for a data disk containing crucial information to the Rebellion on the nearby planet of Ord Mantell.

Being familiar with the Ghost crew and their capabilities, Princess Leia had requested them specifically for this mission. Once they arrived in system, Kanan and Zeb had then piloted the Phantom II to secret coordinates in deep space to transport the Rebel spy onto the Ghost from an undisclosed location.

As they approached the Phantom II docking bay, Zeb was the first one to disembark, the hatch hissing open to make way for the Ghost crew member. The big Lasat stretched as he emerged, wincing at the crackling noise his joints made. He greeted everyone and, upon seeing Sabine and Ezra, asked with a big grin, "Who won the dejarik game?"

"Me," said Sabine at the same time as Ezra. They turned to each other with bemused looks as Zeb guffawed at their expressions.

"I'll take that to mean that Sabine was about to win it then," Zeb chuckled.

Ezra pouted. Sabine grinned but gave her partner an affectionate pat on the back.

Hera sighed again. "Kids, please behave," she said.

Kanan's voice drifted out from the open hatch, speaking softly to someone. "Watch your step here," he advised, his hand outstretched to the guest.

The Rebel spy stepped through. She was young, around Sabine's age. Lustrous black hair that fell slightly past her shoulders and a beautiful, statuesque face that belonged in holo-dramas. Her eyes were a light gray that shone with a cool intelligence, taking in the Ghost crew with a swift look. The white combat suit she wore was Rebellion standard uniform but, somehow, looked perfectly tailored to her slender body. The holster on her belt had a mean looking blaster tucked inside and judging from the marks on the weapon, it had seen use plenty of times.

Beside her, Sabine heard Ezra take a deep breath in surprise. Frowning, she looked to him - and noted the look of dumbstruck recognition flashing in his piercing blue eyes.

Before she could ask him what was up, Kanan introduced the spy to the crew. "Everyone, this is the Fulcrum agent we've been assigned to escort. Her name is Shana Tavorri."

She nodded in greeting. "Hello, everyone. Pleased to meet you all. I'm grateful for the assistance in this mission. Princess Leia has given you the highest of recommendations."

Shana smiled as her gaze fell upon Ezra. "Especially you, Ezra Bridger."

Sabine narrowed her eyes at Shana. There was an intimate familiarity with how she said Ezra's name . . . and, for some reason, it bothered her.

Ezra took a cautious step forward. "It really is you," he said in amazement. "I can't believe it."

Sabine crossed her arms and leaned against the bulkhead. There was an odd, pinched feeling emanating somewhere inside her chest. Grimacing, she watched her friend practically float towards the new arrival.

Shana's smile widened into an easy-going grin. "Been a while, Ezra. You've certainly grown up from the little street thief I remember back on Lothal."

"You know Ezra?" asked Kanan in surprise.

Shana nodded. "We go way back. Our families were close, and we were childhood friends . . ." Her expression turned sad. "That was before the Empire took over. Ezra - did you ever find out about your parents?"

Ezra went still, a pained expression briefly passing over his face before smoothing into a neutral look. "They died some time ago," he said.

Shana's face fell; she reached out and gripped his hand in sympathy. "Oh, Ezra. I'm so sorry. I was always hoping that they met a better fate than my own family."

Ezra looked down at his feet. "No such luck, I'm afraid," he said. "It's okay. They died helping people."

"It's not okay, Ezra. It'll never be okay. Look - come here," she said and suddenly pulled him into a deep hug. Ezra's face went red in surprise, and he glanced at Sabine with an odd look - like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

She just frowned at him and felt another uncomfortable twinge in her chest. Sabine rubbed at the spot, wondering why she felt this way looking at Ezra and his old friend embracing - and became aware of Hera, looking directly at her, with an amused look on her face.

I don't like this, Sabine thought. I've got a bad feeling about this.

She coughed loudly, interrupting the tender moment between Ezra and Shana. Stepping forward, she stuck out a hand at the Rebel spy. "I'm Sabine, by the way," she said. "Sabine Wren. Ezra's partner."

Shana released a flustered Ezra from the hug and turned towards Sabine. The Fulcrum agent's gray eyes glinted with amusement as she took in Sabine's blunt manner and colorful appearance.

Shana replied coolly, "I've heard all about you, Sabine Wren. You have quite the reputation." The spy took Sabine's hand and gave it a tight, yet amiable squeeze in acknowledgement. Her grip was firm and steady, Sabine noted; her hands, while looking delicate, were calloused. It meant that Shana was not unaccustomed to hard work, despite her model appearance and elegant demeanor.

Normally, that would have impressed Sabine. But, for some unknown reason, it made her dislike the spy even more.

"Good or bad?" asked Sabine as they shook hands.

Shana gave a polite smile as she responded. "Depends on who you ask."

Hera clapped her hands together. "Right. Well, seems like our guest and Ezra have some catching up to do. Ezra, you'll have the honor of giving Shana the tour. Kanan and Zeb, you can go rest. I'll punch in the coordinates to Ord Mantell and get us on the way. And Sabine . . ."

"Yes, Hera?" She was staring at Shana who had already sidled away to speak with Ezra.

"Go freshen up your room. Shana will bunk with you for the night."

Sabine felt her stomach drop out from her abdomen. "Seriously?" she asked. "She's in my room?"

Hera arched an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Sabine gritted her teeth. "No," she replied. Shana had slipped her arm through Ezra's and was walking with him towards the Ghost's communal area. Ezra said something to her, and the young woman let out a peal of laughter that rang through the corridor.

Sabine felt her heart twist viciously as she watched Ezra give a shy smile at Shana.

"No problem at all," she said and went to clean her room, doing her best to ignore the turbulent feelings buzzing inside that were saying something else entirely.

Hyperspace, Mid-Rim Territories

It had been a long day, despite the relative lack of activities, and Sabine was ready for bed. Ezra had given Shana an in-depth tour of the Ghost at her insistence; at the end of it, Sabine had the amusing thought that their guest now possibly knew the Ghost's interior better than any of them. Once finished, Ezra and Shana had lounged in the Ghost's communal area, chatting about various things that had happened in their lives while they had been apart.

Sabine had spent that time lurking nearby, working at a nearby computer station - or, at least, pretending to be working. She was trying to get a better read on this mysterious Shana Tavorri; a Fulcrum agent, after all, was a notable position within the Rebellion, especially for someone so young. There were many of them, she knew, scattered throughout the galaxy performing various missions of critical importance to the Rebellion. The only other one she knew personally was a Jedi Knight, much like Kanan and Ezra, named Ahsoka Tano.

Shana was clearly no Jedi, but she definitely had exhibited skills that the Rebellion deemed worthy enough to put her in the same position that a Jedi had previously held. That made her dangerous.

But Shana's conversation with Ezra failed to disclose any of those potential skills, despite Sabine's best efforts to listen in. She was, however, embarrassed by her response whenever she did hear her name mentioned by Ezra, which came up more than a handful of times in their discussion; a warm, fuzzy feeling that left her feeling pleased.

After a while, both Ezra and Shana wrapped up their chat with a hug (Sabine felt her jaw clench so hard that she could hear something creaking) and retired to their respective bedrooms for the night. Sabine finished her work at the computer station half an hour later and followed suit.

Checking a nearby chronometer, she registered the lateness of the hour and stepped inside her room, deciding to spend some time maintaining her weapons before sleeping -

Only to find Shana laying in the top bunk, reading something on a data pad. Sabine winced, having forgotten that she wouldn't be alone for the night.

"Don't mind me," said Shana amiably, almost as if reading Sabine's thoughts. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Gladly, Sabine thought. But she said, "Hope I didn't disturb your reading."

Shana chuckled. "You didn't. I was just finishing up, actually." She rolled over in the bed to get a better look at Sabine. Her gray eyes took in Sabine's casual appearance, glittering with an almost feline interest.

Sabine, uncomfortable with her gaze, settled down at her desk and reached for her blasters and maintenance tools. "Anything interesting?"

"Oh, plenty," replied Shana. "I was reading about this superweapon developed by the Empire called 'The Duchess'."

Sabine froze, her hands twitching on the grip of her blaster. Her heart began to hammer away, a thousand beats per second. Slowly, she turned towards Shana, finding her sitting at the bed's edge, her feet dangling. There was a slight, polite smile on her face, but her gray eyes flashed again with that cool intelligence.

"You have led quite the life, Sabine Wren," remarked Shana. "Tragedy after tragedy. Does anyone in this crew know about any of that?" She cocked her head at Sabine. "Does Ezra? What would the gallant Jedi think of his friend if he really knew her?"

It was a thought that had kept Sabine up through the night on several occasions.

She crossed her arms and stared at Shana. "You've been reading up on me."

Shana shrugged. "On everyone, really. Princess Leia recommended you all so highly, so I couldn't help but take a peek at your files and histories. Quite the achievements you've pulled off for a crew so small."

"I've been reading up on you, too," replied Sabine coolly. Shana arched an eyebrow in surprise, eliciting a rush of satisfaction - clearly the spy had not been expecting that. "You ran with Saw Gerrera's crew for five years before working directly under Princess Leia. Did he kick you out, I wonder? What does it mean if you're too extreme even for someone like him?"

Shana dropped down from the top bunk and leaned against the bulkhead; her arms crossed in a similar fashion to Sabine. She wondered briefly if it was intentional, to mimic her. "Those files are available only to the top brass of Rebel Command," she murmured. "You hacked into the Rebellion's encrypted database at that old computer station? I assumed you were just skulking about, trying to listen to mine and Ezra's conversation."

Sabine shrugged, hiding her humiliation at having been clocked so easily by the other girl. And here I was thinking that was discreet, she thought. "I'm clever like that," Sabine retorted.

Shana grinned. "Your reputation precedes you, Sabine. Gifted prowess in combat, especially for a Mandalorian, and notable demolitions expert - but everyone seems to overlook that you are a child prodigy. I suspect your rough, blunt demeanor disguises that fact well. But you are, without a doubt, an enormous threat against anyone that chooses to go against you."

Sabine rocked back mentally at Shana's high praise of her talents. But all she said was, "Thanks, I guess."

Shana nodded in acknowledgment. "I can't say the same for Ezra, however." Shaking her head, she added, "I'm surprised he's survived this long."

"What do you mean?" asked Sabine.

"He's hopeless," said Shana in an exasperated tone. "I mean, yes, he's a Jedi now - or so he claims. I understand they're in short supply of capable students but to recruit him into the fabled Jedi Order? Desperate times, I suppose. He could barely tie his shoelaces together when I left him last."

"Ezra Bridger," said Sabine hotly, "is more than capable in any situation. Not because of his Jedi training, but because of who he is. He's saved all our lives - and many others - countless times over."

Shana eyed her skeptically. "You don't have to pretend to me, Sabine. I was just like you before. He's a loyal pup to be sure and good for a distraction I admit, but it's a stretch to say that he's capable on his own." She sighed. "I understand that this crew needed a mascot, perhaps, to cheer them up during these dark times but I think it's irresponsible to take someone like him - "

Sabine struck her with an open hand so hard that the other girl's head bounced off the bulkhead. Before Shana could recover, she shoved her against the wall, pinning her with a well-placed forearm. Sabine, through the red haze that obscured her vision, dimly noted the cut lip on the girl's face but found that she didn't care.

"Do not insult Ezra Bridger in front of me ever again," she said in a voice that was barely recognizable. It was a harsh rasp that Sabine didn't know she was capable of. "Do you understand?"

Shana tapped on Sabine's arm, gasping for air. It took a few moments for her to realize that the other girl couldn't reply due to the lack of air. Sabine relented, feeling her heartbeat pulsing rhythmically inside her skull; she looked down at her hands and found them shaking from the rush of adrenaline, now subsiding.

Yet on the inside she felt calm, as though a stream of ice water were flowing through her veins. Many things from Shana had unnerved her tonight, but it was her insults toward Ezra that had pushed Sabine past the edge.

Doubled over, wheezing, Shana gave her an amused look to Sabine's surprise. "So, you do care," she said.

"You didn't answer my question," Sabine said quietly.

Shana nodded. "I understand. You've got this emotional wall up, you know that? Hard to see through - except when it comes to Ezra Bridger." She wiped at her lip, noting the blood. "Nice hit," she observed.

Sabine reached into her desk and took out a first-aid kit. "Patch yourself up," she said, offering it to her.

Shana accepted it with a nod of gratitude. "I hope you don't take what I said about Ezra seriously. I just needed to know where you stand with him."

Sabine sat back down at her desk. "You don't actually think that way about him?"

Shana shook her head and leaned back against the wall, opening the kit. "Not at all. I know Ezra. We used to scavenge together back in the old days on Lothal. Hit up Imperial patrols for food and water. He stuck his neck out for me plenty of times, at risk to his life. I know what he can do. And that was before he became a Jedi."

Sabine watched her apply medicinal gel to her lip, thinking over what she said. "You care about him."

Shana blew out a breath. "Deeply. He was the only bright spot in my life during that time. I think I loved him."

Sabine felt her heart stop at Shana's words, hearing the depth and sincerity of emotion within them. Feeling her stare, Shana looked over at her with a knowing gaze. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

Deflecting the question, Sabine asked, "So why did you leave him? How did you two get separated?"

Shana sighed. "One of our little scavenging operations went sideways. An uppity Imperial lieutenant wanted to make an example of us for humiliating him in front of his troops. The chase was exhausting; Ezra led most of them away but the lieutenant caught up to me. I thought I was dead."

She closed her eyes, reliving the memory. "Saw Gerrera was there. Don't ask me why or how; he never explained. He killed the lieutenant and offered me a choice. He was impressed with my skills, you see. So he said that I could come with him and pay back the Empire for what they had done to me."

"And if you didn't?"

The girl smiled grimly at Sabine. "He would kill me. No witnesses. Apparently, he didn't want the Empire knowing about his whereabouts, should they find and interrogate me afterwards."

Sabine snorted. "Not much of a choice."

"Indeed," Shana agreed. "So, I went with him."

"And left Ezra? You never went back for him?" Sabine didn't mean to, but there was an accusatory tone to her questions.

Shana eyes glazed over with sadness. "I couldn't. He was just a kid. I didn't want to pull him into danger. I could tell Saw was dangerous, even if he was fighting for the Rebellion. The moment I had an opportunity to do so, I jumped ship. Princess Leia found me and offered a new path. I took it."

Sabine was silent for a moment, thinking about Shana's story. Finally, she said quietly, "Ezra would have followed, if you had asked. He would have gone with you anywhere."

"I know. He's silly like that."

"Loyal," she corrected. Shana cocked her head and smiled a little sadly at Sabine.

"Just like you are to him. Is it typical Mandalorian stubbornness? Or something more?"

Sabine did not want to have that conversation with Shana. Or with anyone else, for that matter. She stood up abruptly and said, "Good night, Shana."

Shana's smile became, somehow, even more sad. "A word of advice, Sabine?"

Sabine was already standing at the door, about to step out. But something in Shana's tone made her pause.

"Don't wait to tell him how you feel. You won't get a second chance. Especially in this galaxy."

She considered Shana's words for a long moment before replying, "Whatever you think our relationship is . . . it's none of your business. That stays between us."

Sabine left before the other girl could respond. Her mind still buzzing with what happened, she wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the Ghost before running smack dab into someone.

"Sabine? What are you doing?" Sabine blinked at the person speaking - and almost groaned out loud.

It was Ezra. Dressed in his sleep wear, holding a mug of his favorite beverage, hot chocolate. His eyebrows were raised in an expression of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Sabine very desperately wanted to be anywhere else right now. Her face was flushed in embarrassment; her heart was thudding a steady tattoo into her ribs at Ezra's proximity. She felt exposed, like a raw nerve, her inner turmoil and feelings threatening to spill out the longer she stayed in front of him.

Racking her brain to find some last second excuse to get out of there, something caught her attention: Ezra's fingers were bandaged. Her fears momentarily vanished as she asked, "What happened to your hands?"

Ezra fumbled his mug, trying to hide the evidence but it was too late. Sighing, he said, "I was working on something."

Sabine arched an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "Working on what?"

Blushing, Ezra said, "Promise not to laugh?"

A small smile curled on her lips. "Nope."

Ezra groaned but led her to the communal table where his "project" laid. She noted immediately the disarray of colored paper strewn about on the table, half folded in various attempts into a familiar shape -

It clicked. "You're trying to make a flower out of these?" she asked. Ezra sat down and nodded glumly.

"Ezra Bridger," she said, placing a hand on her hip. "You've been holding out on me in terms of artistic abilities? That come with your Jedi training?"

He gave her a despairing glance. "I wish. Been up most of the night trying to figure this out."

Stifling a laugh out of pity, she surveyed his work. "It's not half-bad. What kind of flower are you trying to make?"

Ezra rubbed the back of his head, not looking at her. "It's supposed to be a - well, a Lenora flower."

Sabine's eyes widened in surprise. "A Lenora flower? From the fairytale?" Princess Lenora and the Starboy was an old fairytale that she was familiar with - in fact, it was one of her most treasured stories. Memories of her father reading it to her when she was younger, were still vivid in her mind. The flowers from that fairytale held deep symbolic meaning that marked them as her favorite.

"Yeah."

"I see." Sabine studied Ezra's work some more, looking to see where he went wrong - and then felt her stomach sink, as a horrid thought came to her.

"It's for Shana, isn't it." The words tasted rancid in her mouth.

Ezra looked at her, surprised. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then - oddly enough - a small, relieved smile appeared on his face. He answered in an innocent tone, "Sure. It's for Shana."

There was a part of Sabine, operating from a recent frame of memory, that wanted to sweep the contents of the table onto the floor and stomp on them. She struggled to control her wayward feelings, however, and took a deep breath.

"You want some help?"

Ezra's expression turned amused. "You sure?"

Sabine sighed. "Yeah. I'm sure." He needed her help. Like always.

And she could never turn him down.

He patted the seat next to him. "Thanks, Sabine."

Despite the situation, Sabine managed a smile at her friend. "Anytime, goober."

Ord Mantell City, Ord Mantell

Ord Mantell City was a bustling acropolis, teeming with all manner of people far flung from the distant corners of the galaxy. Tall spires loomed over the city center; a sprawling mass of mis-matched architecture that spread far as the eye could see. Rumor had it that the infamous criminal organization, the Black Sun, operated out of here - a rumor that the Empire was desperate to quash, as it clashed with their image of retaining control over the entire known galaxy. Despite being a haven for ill-gotten gains and profit, it was certainly a far cry from the pits of villainy and scum that other planets were, and the citizens enjoyed a relatively peaceful life despite the tense cold war between the Empire and the criminal organizations that inhabited their city.

The Ghost had arrived mid-morning with time to spare before Shana had to make contact with her Imperial informant. After taking the time to do a quick survey of the locals to ensure that they weren't being watched, Shana revealed her plan to the crew: a simple trade made in the market square and then she would be shuttled off in a separate transport nearby with another Fulcrum agent who was waiting on stand-by. The Ghost crew would act as her escort, in case things got hairy.

It was a reasonable enough plan - except for one, glaring flaw that Sabine immediately noticed.

"Why is Ezra the only one going with you for back-up?" she asked, trying to keep the heat out of her voice. "I thought we were all going with you."

Shana shook her head. "My informant would scamper at the sight of a group approaching. Two is more than sufficient to handle him, I assure you. The rest of you will wait back here, in the Ghost, ready to assist should we need it. The market square isn't far from the landing pad."

Sabine looked to Kanan and Hera. "Please tell me you disagree with this," she said.

Kanan stroked his beard, thinking. "Hera?" he asked. "What's your opinion?"

Hera answered, "She knows the area better than we do. And I know Shana and Ezra can handle themselves in a fight." She glanced at Sabine. "It's her plan, Sabine. And we'll be nearby in case something goes wrong."

"Which it won't," Shana said reassuringly. "I know this informant. He won't be a problem."

Sabine glared at her, then turned towards Kanan. "Kanan?"

Kanan let out a deep breath. "I'm with Hera on this one. We'll leave it to those two. This information is important. We don't want to risk spooking her informant."

Zeb grunted in assent. Chopper whomped his agreement, as well.

Sabine gritted her teeth, preparing to launch an argument -

Ezra interjected before she could open her mouth. "Sabine."

She looked at him. He gave her a serious look and said, "It'll be fine. Trust me."

Sabine blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine. Leave your com-links on, though. I want to hear everything being said. The moment something goes wrong, we'll know."

Shana nodded. "Agreed." Turning to Ezra, she said, "Let's be off, Master Jedi."

Ezra bowed gallantly at her and said, "Lead the way, my lady." They began to make their way down the boarding ramp.

Sabine rolled her eyes. Shana paused at the entrance and turned around to face Sabine.

"What?" asked Sabine.

"He'll be safe with me," said Shana. "I promise."

And she left without another word. Sabine watched her catch up to Ezra, turn a corner on the street ahead, and then vanish into the crowd.

An hour later, they returned triumphant with the data disc in hand. Sabine bounded down the ramp, almost colliding into Ezra. She had been pacing inside the Ghost, listening to the tense conversation exchanged between Shana and her Imperial informant, expecting it to go sideways at any given moment - but it never did.

Shana did her job as expected. Ezra checked in a few minutes later to let them know they were on the way back, and that he hadn't spotted - or sensed - anyone following them.

"Huh," said Kanan. "That's a first for us. A job that didn't have any complications."

Hera glanced at Sabine knowingly. "Well, for most of us, anyway," she remarked.

She bit her lip and double-checked her friend for trackers, despite knowing there were none.

Shana said, "I'm fine, too, in case you were wondering."

Sabine threw her a glare and finished her inspection. "No trackers on you, far as I can tell. All clear."

Ezra raised an eyebrow at her. "That was a very . . . thorough inspection on your part, Sabine."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Shut up, goober."

He grinned briefly at her and then turned to Shana. "I guess this is farewell," he said quietly.

The other girl shook her head. "Don't say it like that, Ezra. I'm sure we'll meet again - "

Ezra interrupted her. "Just say it this once. Please. For me."

Shana looked taken aback for a moment and then smiled sadly. "Good-bye, Ezra Bridger."

And then she leaned forward, giving a soft kiss on his cheek. Sabine looked away.

"Good-bye, Shana," he said softly. He turned back towards the Ghost and walked up the ramp without another word. Which left Sabine alone with Shana.

Sabine gazed at her, not sure what to say. Shana, however, merely smiled and offered her hand. Incredulous, Sabine gripped it and gave a firm shake.

"This has been an . . . experience," she said. "I'm still not sure what to make of it."

"Can I tell you something, Sabine? I'm rather jealous of you. Ezra clearly cares for you deeply."

"And what makes you think that?"

"He didn't say good-bye to you when he left with me. He just asked you to trust him; trust that he would come back." Her smile turned melancholy. "I don't think he'll ever say good-bye to you, Sabine Wren."

Shana's com-link sent out a chirping noise. She checked it and said, "That's my ride. I should be going shortly."

"Well, safe travels. And good hunting," replied Sabine. The Fulcrum agent nodded and turned to go - but paused for a split second and turned back towards her.

"Yes?" asked Sabine, cautiously.

"Remember what I said. About not waiting." She looked thoughtful for a moment and then added with a sincere smile, "And take care of him, will you? He's all yours now."

And then she took a few hurried steps and disappeared into the crowded streets of Ord Mantell City.

Hyperspace, The Way Home

Later that night, getting ready for bed, Sabine came across Ezra sitting alone in the Ghost's communal area. He was studying something gripped in his hand, his expression lost in thought.

Sabine took a step closer and felt her eyes widen in recognition: it was the paper Lenora flower that he had made the night prior.

"You still have that?" she asked.

Ezra jolted slightly in his seat. "Oh, hey. Didn't see you there."

"Shana didn't want it?" Sabine asked. She couldn't imagine the girl refusing Ezra's present. Just the thought of it alone made Sabine wish she had hit Shana harder when she had the chance.

Ezra smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, it wasn't for Shana in the first place."

He abruptly offered it to her. Sabine felt her jaw drop in surprise.

"It's for me?"

He nodded. "Hera told me that you were feeling a little neglected since I was focused on spending time with Shana, so I decided to make this as thanks. I appreciate you giving us the time and space to catch up."

Sabine took the flower gently from Ezra's hand. "How did you know to make this one? It's my favorite."

Ezra smiled at her. "You might have mentioned it a time or two during a conversation. It's from your favorite fairytale."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Try that again."

He winced. "Okay, I snuck into your room one time and saw the book laying on your bed. It wasn't for weird reasons, I promise! Zeb ate all my snacks, and I knew you had some stashed away, so I went looking while you were out."

Sabine snorted. "I believe you now." She rolled the flower between her fingertips, admiring the work Ezra had put into it.

All for her.

"You know what this flower symbolizes, Ezra?" she asked suddenly.

He thought about it. "Unwavering loyalty and dedication, right? I can't quite remember the whole story."

And love, she thought.

"Anyway," Ezra said quietly, "I just wanted you to know that . . . well, you're the only one for me, Sabine. No one will ever replace you."

Sabine's eyes snapped to Ezra; she could hear her heartbeat, pulsing loudly in her ears.

"As a partner," he added hastily. "I mean - well, you know - "

She smiled. "I know what you mean, goober."

Don't wait to tell him how you feel. You won't get a second chance. Especially in this galaxy.

He's all mine now, she thought. All mine.

"We should probably head to bed now. Separately. But you knew that." Ezra's expression became increasingly mortified at what was coming out of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to very badly disappear in that second.

Sabine just laughed. "True. It's been a long day."

He shook his head, his expression flustered. "Good night, Sabine. See you in the morning." He began to walk down the hallway towards his room.

Don't wait.

"Hey, Ezra," she called. He turned around.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum," she said softly.

Ezra cocked his head in an inquisitive manner. "Is that a Mandalorian saying?"

Sabine nodded.

"What does it mean?"

"A literal translation is 'I will know you forever.'"

Ezra mulled over the significance of what she said. "Nothing's certain in this galaxy, Sabine," he said. "But I hope that's true for us."

"Me, too," Sabine replied. She followed him down the hallway to their rooms.

"Does that phrase have another meaning?" asked Ezra. "I get the feeling it translates to something else."

I love you.

Sabine smiled at him. "It does have another, more famous meaning. I'll tell you about it someday. When this war is over."

"Ah," said Ezra dryly. "Well, that won't be too much of a wait, then. Between you and me, we've got the Empire on the ropes already."

Sabine laughed.

"Promise me you'll really tell me what the other meaning is?" asked Ezra. "You won't leave me hanging, right?"

Sabine looked at him, gazing deeply into his eyes. How blue they looked, she thought. How they shined like sapphire gems under the right lighting.

"I promise, Ezra Bridger," she said. "No matter what. If the galaxy tries to separate us, I'll find you and tell you."

#sabezra #sabezraday2024 #sabezra fanfiction #sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars #star wars rebels

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antianakin · 8 months

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I don’t know if you’re actually watching the Ahsoka series or not, but I was very curious on your thoughts on the newest episode, and the confrontation between Anakin and Ahsoka.

Bro traumatized her again. Lol. 😒🙃

I’m actually kind of satisfied that she showed a little resentment, but I still don’t like that she didn’t cuss him out or something.

Anakin not apologizing is infuriating at first glance, but I also think it fits his character.

It’s funny, if I think about it in a certain way: I wonder if Anakin himself views his “redemption” kind of the same way his fans do. He’s just like, “Why are you still pissed at me? I died stopping the Emperor, didn’t I?” 🙄

The only one I think he’d actually feel sad about is Leia, because of course he’d want his daughter to like him, but she never will now, because he fucking tortured her and blew up her planet.

You know… I don’t really view Anakin’s final moments as a true “redemption” in the eyes of the galaxy. George Lucas has a quote where he says parents are redeemed in the eyes of their children. I guess you could argue that Anakin redeemed himself in Luke’s eyes, but not the galaxy’s own.

And then there’s Leia, who will never forgive him or think of him as her father.

In a way, it’s almost fitting for Anakin, that each of his children represent something for him.

Luke represents forgiveness, and how it’s never too late to do the right thing.

Leia represents his mistakes and sins. As long as she lives, he’ll always look at her and remember the damage he’s done. She’d never let him forget it.

Which is funny, when going back to the recent Ahsoka episode, and how he was acting like a dick to Ahsoka.

Personally, I think he was purposely trying to piss her off to make her fight to not die.

Still though: he’s such a jackass. 😒

Anyways, I guess my main point is that I don’t view Anakin being a Force Ghost shows that he was “redeemed.” I view it more as a type of salvation. Like the Bible story where Jesus is on the cross with two other men next to him. And then one man decides to “believe in him” or whatever, and his soul is saved by the skin of his teeth.

This is kind of how I view Anakin’s act of saving Luke. His soul was saved, because he did a heel face turn at the last second. So The Force was like, “Good enough, I guess.” *Throws up hands*

Anyways, sorry for the long rambling. I hope you don’t mind the message. Haha. 😅 I just have found your blog really therapeutic, because while I like Anakin as the fascinating character that he is, it still just kills me how fandom woobifies him and blames the Jedi for their own genocide.

I don't mind this message at all, thanks so much for sending so many of your thoughts, this was great! It's going to be a long reply back, though, since there's so much to respond to and if you've been going through my blog, this probably won't surprise you.

I AM watching the Ahsoka show, I'm just putting my thoughts about it on a different blog to this one (this blog was created for me to be negative so I usually only review things on here if I KNOW I'm going to be negative about it, but I was hopeful I'd have positive things to say about the Ahsoka show lol).

I think I'm feeling RELATIVELY mediocre about the show. Like I don't hate the whole thing, I can see why it appeals to people, but it's not really hitting at what I would've wanted from a narrative perspective. It seems to be relying on fan service and pretty visuals rather than genuinely good writing to get them through. If you happen to be the fan being serviced, you probably like it fine. But if you are someone more like me, then you might be noticing that there aren't a lot of stakes, the character motivations are weak or missing, the two storylines aren't being spliced together very well, and the dialogue's just not that great. There's also several more nitpicky things that are really pissing me off about the show (the way they're treating Force sensitivity, Sabine being a Jedi at all for no good reason and how her character is being butchered, the very distant and aloof acting I feel like we're getting from everybody, and of course the requisite anti-Jedi bullshit that we can all expect from Filoni at this point).

But as for how I felt about Anakin and Ahsoka's scenes in the latest episode this week, I am personally of the opinion that it WASN'T Anakin at all. I know it's left ambiguous, so if people feel like it was truly Anakin in some way shape or form, that's fine, but I think it makes more sense to me personally that it wasn't. This is Ahsoka's manifestation of Anakin in a moment where she's literally drowning and emotionally at something of a low point and has to decide if she's going to live or not and that conflict plays out in her head the way we see it. I'm also open to the idea that this is one of those things where the Force "tests" the Jedi not unlike what we see happen on Ilum and Mortis and the Force is just utilizing Anakin's visage to bring Ahsoka's deepest fears out into the open.

What makes it interesting to me is that then we can look at the interactions as THIS IS HOW AHSOKA SEES HIM. Whether she thinks about it that deeply or not, THIS personality is how she remembers him. The immediate choice to be violent with her and test her fighting skills rather than talk to her more gently, the dismissive attitude he has towards her, the flickering back and forth between Anakin and Vader because she doesn't truly know which one he was most. He wasn't necessarily a great teacher and his way of teaching wasn't very Jedi-like, it's ruthless and merciless and unkind, and we see that reflected in their interactions in this episode, which could be a really interesting look at how Ahsoka still remembers him even if she didn't see it negatively at the time.

So him not apologizing isn't like... an indication of how Anakin might actually handle this interaction if it were truly him so much as just... Ahsoka being unsure sure if he WOULD apologize because she has no idea how much of him was Vader the entire time and Vader would clearly never apologize. I think the Anakin we see by the end of ROTJ probably would apologize at SOME point, especially if we're supposed to see him as redeemed and acknowledging/accepting of his sins, etc. But Ahsoka doesn't know that. Ahsoka probably kind-of knows through Luke that he turned back in his last moments, but she wasn't there for that, she didn't get to see it, and she obviously still has no idea what caused him to turn on the Jedi and become a Sith to begin with. Why did he come back for Luke and not her? Was it because she abandoned him? Did he just not care about her the way she thought? Was there something intrinsically wrong with her that he recognized from the beginning?

There's just too much uncertainty perhaps for Ahsoka to know if he'd actually apologize and she doesn't even necessarily need or want an apology so much as she just wants to UNDERSTAND. Because of course it leads into her doubts about HERSELF and whether being his apprentice (even for as short of a time as it was) has somehow influenced her to be more like him and if she should be worried that she'll go dark or cause a student of hers to go dark. If she doesn't know why HE made that choice, how can she trust herself? It's not entirely dissimilar to the statement she made at the end of the Wrong Jedi arc where she claims she's leaving the Jedi because if the Council couldn't trust her then she isn't sure she can trust herself, either. And now with Anakin going dark, she has to wonder if the Council saw something of that in her when no one else did, saw a future for her that she hadn't been able to see for herself yet.

I think personally I'd just rather look at this episode as the closest we're going to get to a "deep dive" into Ahsoka's psyche and character rather than try to analyze it as like "what does this say about Anakin." It's not Anakin's story anymore, it's Ahsoka's. Or it's supposed to be, anyway.

That all being said, I don't think it went far enough and I do dislike that we didn't get to dive into OTHER aspects of Ahsoka via other relationships in order to round out who she actually is. I don't think we know any more about her at the end of the episode than we did at the beginning. I don't think she really grows or changes through the episode at all. I don't know what the whole "choose to live" thing was about or how it connects to her overall arc because while, yes, she's obviously literally drowning in the moment, "choosing to live" is not something they've been exploring as an issue for Ahsoka throughout this season so far, so it didn't feel like this cool end to her character journey so much as just a really shallow one-liner made to sound badass without anything particularly profound behind it.

I think gffa said that one of the things you can tell about this show is that it's been percolating in Filoni's mind for so long that there's things he's leaving out because they're just totally obvious to him now and he's forgotten that the audience won't know some of it without being told or shown. If Ahsoka was depressed or suicidal or something like that, it never came across in the first four episodes. She barely seems to be struggling at all to me, personally. So maybe that's what Filoni wanted us to understand about her, maybe that was the intention, but it just didn't quite make it from his head into the writing or onto the screen.

And I keep going back to the Obi-Wan Kenobi show and the way they handled his character arc. They started him at a really low point where he's so CLEARLY depressed and just moving through life without actually living or finding any way to be happy. They spend so much time showing us how OUT of character Obi-Wan is in order for the pay off by the end and the slow growth of his character throughout the six episode story to feel satisfying. And while he's out of character in his depression, it's done in such a way that that's the POINT. We all know WHY he's out of character, we know what's causing him to be that way, it doesn't need to be explained because it didn't happen off-screen, it's literally the plot of an entire trilogy of films. It felt like a pretty natural extension of the state we last saw him in and it allows him the ability to actually have a journey that makes sense.

We've gotten NONE OF THAT for Ahsoka. Her relationship with Sabine is nonsensical and comes out of nowhere with zero explanation. Her weird thing about Padawans comes out of nowhere with zero explanation. Her aloof attitude is coming out of nowhere and does nothing to help us understand the state of mind she's in. She never seems to be acting SO out of character that it tells the audience how much she's struggling, but she's also SO flat that she no longer feels much like the Ahsoka everyone knew and loved from The Clone Wars. They're inventing new problems for her to have that make no sense instead of giving her a journey to actually deal with the problems she already had and hadn't gotten any resolution for. And they're unable to actually connect her problems from before into the Rebels storyline in a way that makes any real sense or feels genuine and meaningful for either Ahsoka or Sabine, so both storylines are getting half-assed and butchered in the attempt.

Personally, I think Ahsoka should've had a season set closer to ROTJ or even before it, just after she gets off of Malachor and 2-3 years prior to ANH, to explore her immediate reaction to Anakin's betrayal and have her overcome that on her own. Use original characters primarily, throw in Bail Organa or something if needed just to give her a quick plot, but let it be about AHSOKA. And only once her journey to finding herself is complete do we then move on to the Search for Ezra, which should be focusing WAY more on the Rebels characters than we're actually getting and should not involve any of the Rebels characters (except maybe Jacen) learning to be Jedi. Ahsoka would be a side character in this story because she has now had her story told and we can let Sabine and Ezra and Jacen and Hera be at the forefront of the story. (I also think we could've done something with Sabine that wasn't being a Jedi or her entire family being murdered off screen so she has an excuse to do a characterization 180 and act like a bratty teenager all over again.)

If I had to just change THIS episode a little, I have a few alternatives I've been thinking about. For one, I do just think we should've gotten to explore OTHER relationships beyond Anakin to emphasize the other things that Ahsoka is that aren't just "Anakin's Padawan." Rex, Barriss, Plo Koon, even Kanan or Ezra to try to make that connection to Rebels. She's been a friend, a commander, a rebel, a student, a mentor, an ally, a Jedi. She's been so many things that have nothing at all to do with Anakin and I think that might've been nice to explore as well. Yes, Anakin was important. Yes, she's fucked up about it. But that's not ALL THAT SHE IS. So I think starting off with her fears about Anakin is great, but then have her move on and sort-of go through it a little like Charles Dickens' A Christmas Story to show that she's more than this, too. This probably would've worked better if it had been a two parter thing rather than one 30-40 minute episode, depending on how many characters you wanted to throw in.

I also would've appreciated seeing her break and shatter at seeing Anakin. I wanted her to be ANGRY, to refuse to forgive him, to throw his betrayal in face. And then by the end of the episode, she lets it go. She's seen that she doesn't need to hold onto that anymore and it doesn't matter what choices Anakin did or didn't make, she's her own person and can make HER own choices. And so Anakin comes back at the end, and she's no longer angry. She can forgive him. I also would've wanted her to have been more snappy and frustrated and angry earlier in the season, as well, so we can TELL there's something simmering underneath that she's trying to keep repressed until it finally boils over in this episode.

The other alternative I came up with was the OPPOSITE idea where Ahsoka is basically just kind-of... in denial about it. She isn't acknowledging her own anger and pain and betrayal at all and she just wants to spend this time with Anakin the way they used to and Anakin is sitting there provoking her and trying to get her to break so she can let it all out. Eventually he gets her to admit it and get angry and yell at him and acknowledge her own pain finally so she can see how it's impacting her relationships in the present day. She's been trying up until now, but as Yoda's always said, sometimes trying isn't enough, and you just have to do or do not. She doesn't reject him at the end of this, but she can at least acknowledge what he did to her and how it's made her feel. You could even include some of her anti-Jedi bullshit in this and have her justifying Anakin's betrayal by saying the Jedi failed him the way they failed her and Anakin pushing back on that idea so that by the end of the episode, she can recognize that she's been blaming the Jedi because she's been uncomfortable with her inability to understand Anakin's choices and it was easier to blame the Jedi than live with that uncertainty.

I've discussed my feelings on Anakin's redemption a lot and they're definitely not in the majority. Personally, I just don't think he's redeemed at all. My definition of redemption is along the lines of "you can fix/undo the thing you broke/damaged" rather than just... "you decided to stop breaking things even if there's no way to fix it." It doesn't mean Anakin can't keep being a better person if he'd lived, or that he can't find redemption in more specific places (like Luke forgiving him for chopping off his hand), but that there is no redemption for what he did to the Jedi, to the clones, and to the galaxy at large. None. It doesn't matter what he does, it doesn't matter that he stopped himself and Palpatine, it doesn't MATTER. The Jedi and the Republic are still gone, the clones were still enslaved, the galaxy is still in shambles and traumatized from 25 years under the Empire.

You aren't the only one who's chosen to separate your definition of "redemption" from something else to make it make more sense. Someone else went for redemption being different from an absolution wherein you are just immediately forgiven of all of your sins because of one act or whatever, while redemption is the process of doing better. If that works for you, go for it. Personally, I just think Anakin isn't redeemed. He cheat coded his way into being a Ghost and the Ghosts don't make any sense anyway. I think it's definitely intended to represent his redemption IN THE NARRATIVE, like that's the point of the visual, but it just doesn't work for me, so I choose not to see it that way. It's ambiguous enough and the Force Ghost lore confusing enough that it's not that hard.

Your interpretation of Luke and Leia as the two sides of forgiveness is intriguing. I do think Leia could get to the point of forgiveness that basically looks like letting go of her anger because the man's dead anyway so there's no real point staying angry and understanding the history that may have led him to become the monster she knew, but that doesn't mean she has to LIKE him or ever consider him a father.

I think you could kind-of throw Ahsoka and Obi-Wan in there as different reactions to Anakin, too. With Ahsoka as someone who sort-of clings to who Anakin used to be and can't truly reconcile the two versions of him that she knew, and Obi-Wan as someone who rises above. Unlike Leia, he did know and love Anakin, but he is also able to let go of his anger and betrayal and accept Anakin for what he is now rather than pining for someone who no longer exists. And Ahsoka is the opposite of Luke as someone who also knew Anakin and loved him, but struggles a lot MORE with the revelation of who he was and his impact on her life. Everyone approaches Anakin and his relationship to them and his choices in a different way.

I wish the Ahsoka show wanted to explore any of that at all lol.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #ahsoka show #ahsoka series #sw ahsoka #star wars ahsoka #ahsoka 2023 #ahsoka spoilers #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical

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x-0ophelia0-x · 7 months

Text

Home isn’t a place, it‘s a feeling.

pairing: Fem!Reader x Ezra Bridger

warnings: none, there’s fluff at the end

word count: 2,7k

summary: Home. Such a simple word and it still was so hard to describe. Since Ezra disappeared from your lives, you didn’t really acknowledge the building you lived in as your home. It all changed though when an unauthorized imperial shuttle caught your attention.

authors note: Finally! I started writing this one last week 😭

however, we were ROBBED of Heras and Ezras hug, literally robbed. anyway, here’s another ff dedicated to our underrated spaceboy c:

enjoy <3

Home.

Such a simple word.

And it still was so hard to describe.

Most people would say that it’s the place where you grew up.

Your house, your room or your Planet.

It’s meaning being completely forgotten.

To you it was more of an emotion then a place.

Memories and people that defined who you are today.

People that grew very important to you.

People that managed to work together, as a family.

People that made you feel safe.

How long has it been now?

10 years?

10 years since you last saw him?

10 years since you kept your hopes up for the best?

10 unimaginable long years that seemed to never have a happy ending for you?

10 years of living with the fear of not knowing if he survived or not?

If you knew better back then you wouldn’t have let Ezra go this easy as you did.

He told you that he’d be alright, that he’d be careful.

But when the purrgils took off with the Chimarea, jumping into hyperspace, somewhere into the unknown, you couldn’t help but feel helpless.

Helpless because you weren’t able to stop him.

Because you couldn’t do anything more then to watch him go.

That the last ‚I love you‘ he ever heard from you was from your filtered voice trough his comm link.

He was gone and nobody believed in his return, at least not the ones who’d have the resources to bring him back.

Only Hera, Sabine, Ahsoka and you were determined to find him.

When Ahsoka found a map, leading to a unknown galaxy, your hopes of finding him again went up. A feeling of excitement made it’s way back to you, a feeling you didn’t feel for a long time now.

There was still hope.

And when Hera told you that Ahsoka and Sabine made their way to possibly find Ezra, you couldn’t help but feel the most excited you ever felt during the last decade.

Little did you know that today was the day.

„I have a strange feeling about something..“

You, Chopper and Jacen were sitting on the ghosts couch, talking about different things.

Jacen often wanted to hear you tell him stories about the rebellion, about your missions, his father, his mother and ‚that guy‘ named Ezra.

He never met him, how could he?

Hearing you all talk about him most of the time confused Jacen, so he decided to take the things into his own hands and try to understand why everyone was so fond of him by hearing your stories about Ezra.

„About what?“

You asked the younger boy while you tried to pick the next story you wanted to tell him.

He just shrugged, looking around and then returning his gaze to you.

„I don’t know.. something just felt off earlier“

Just before you could answer anything to him you heard Heras voice calling out for you.

„y/n! I need you on the main hangar now, an unauthorized shuttle requested to land here“

She said, somehow stressed? But why? That wasn’t something new after all.

„Isn’t this something.. I don’t know… common?“

It was a small shuttle after all?

„It belongs to the empire“

Her voice was stern now, hiding something more important.

The empire? This whole thing just got more interesting.

„… and?“

„The shuttles ID is kinda old..“

This caught your full interest now.

„How old exactly?“

„…“

„Hera?“

„I don’t know how but..“

There was a short break before she continued to speak.

Trying to understand what was happening herself.

„The ID… is registered under Thrawns flagship..“

You expected everything, everything but this.

Your eyes widened at the news, you felt your heart starting to beat faster.

„The Chimaera…?“

„Yes.. this shuttle… somehow managed to return“

Jacen noticed the shift in your behavior, you seemed to be lost in your thoughts.

"Are you still there?"

He heard his mother ask you.

"y/n?"

Knowing that it was some star destroyer that 'took' Ezra away from you, he came to a conclusion of his own.

"That ship.."

He finally catched your Attention, you turned around, looking at him while he tried to find the right words.

"The Chimarea.. was this the ship that... uhmm.."

"Yes"

There was a silent moment between the three of you until Hera decided to speak up again.

„We don’t know who’s flying the shuttle right now but… You may want to find this out so I guess that you should start and make your way to the hangar“

„Okay“

„Take your blasters with you, just in case“

You made your way to the hangar. A lot of people were here, everyone holding his blasters tight, waiting for the shuttle to finally land.

Hera stood next to, both of you having your eyes trained on the unexpected visitor.

„Don’t shoot unless they try something stupid and Jacen, you stay behind“

Commanded Hera.

The shuttle now finally touched the hangars floor. The sound of the ramp opening now echoing freely around this place.

It took some seconds for the person to walk out but you soon recognized the stormtroopers armor. It was pretty worn, had a lot of scratches, even some fabric strips holding some parts together. Compared to the other imps, this was the dirtiest armor you’ve ever seen.

The person stepped put of the shuttle, his hands up, signaling that he didn’t want to start a fight.

Everyone including you and Hera raised his blasters, the trooper on gunpoint.

However, something about all of this felt off. Something was familiar to you but you didn’t know what exactly.

Whenever you looked at the armored person in front of you, you couldn’t help but think that it’s presence was familiar.

Not only that, but you felt the person staring at you trough his or hers visor.

Despite not being force sensitive at all, it almost felt like as if the force was trying to tell you something.

The way how the person was walking seemed familiar, even the way how they raised their hands.

Chopper seemed to recognize something though, not much time after the person left the shuttle, he started to roll towards him, you assumed that it was a man.

„Chopper!“

Hera was just as confused as everyone. The droid didn’t hesitate to roll up to this stranger, letting him even pat his head while he gave happy beeps from him for everyone to hear.

Was this really a stranger? Chopper recognized Someone so dear to him to even let him pat his stubborn head.

The first started to murmur, not knowing what to do. You at the other hand tried to solve this mystery.

The shuttle belonged to the Chimaera, the trooper seemed familiar to you and Chopper didn’t waste a second after realizing something you now tried to realize too.

Chimaera.. Chopper…. Stormtrooper.

Wait, this was a Stormtrooper… a Stormtroopers armor.

„Oh my..“

You gasped at the realization, your eyes wide as you let your blasters fall down.

„y/n..?“

Hera was even more confused by now. First her war criminal of a droid starts to warm up to some random stormtrooper who was supposed to be dead and now you seem to see something that she still can’t muster.

„This can’t be..“

You continued.

„I can’t believe this..“

Tears started to form at your eyes, threatening to spill over as you started to walk towards the said ‚trooper‘.

He never really moved his gaze away from you and as you started to walk towards him, he gave Chopper a last head pat before starting to make his way to you too.

„y/n..! What in the force are you doing?“

Hera wanted to go after you but she was stopped by her son.

„Stay back.. and watch“

He said, seeming to also know who the person behind that mask was.

„Tell me.. who is this?“

„You’ll soon find out“

You now just stood inches away from him.

He lowered his hands, standing still, seeming to be overwhelmed by something.

And you knew what that something was, depending if your guess of him was right.

„I can’t believe this..“

You started, looking up to him to where you assumed where his eyes.

„After 10 years…“

You trailed off, moving your hands up to his face, placing them on the helmet as you tears started to spill over.

„You came back…“

There was a shiver in your voice when you managed to break the lock, slowly taking of his helmet.

„Please.. please let it be you“

You removed the helmet as gently as you could, holding it while you found yourself mesmerized once again.

Vibrant blue eyes were looking straight to your eyes. The same loving look you used to see on a daily basis a decade ago.

His hair had grown since the last time you saw him, his curls pressed because of the helmet. He even had a beard.

You were at a loss of words, it was him. Ezra.

Your Ezra.

„Hey y/n… it’s me.. it’s really me..“

He said, his eyes never leaving yours as you let the helmet fall.

As if you were acting by some hidden instinct, you threw your arms around him, taking him into the most heartfelt embrace you’ve ever given to anyone in your whole life.

Your tears had no barriers now as you let them stream down freely.

„Don’t you ever dare to do this again..!“

Was all you managed to say between your sobs.

Ezra didn’t waste any second, wrapping you tight in his arms while you two fell down to your knees, holding each other close.

„Ezra..“

Hera was shocked, speechless, not knowing what the hell was happening right now. Jacen at the other hand smiled, sensing the relief in her. Something he didn’t sense in her for a long time now.

„Given them a moment.. I have a feeling that they need it“

He then said, looking back to the reunited couple.

„I missed you so much“

You heard him say, the shakiest you’ve ever heard his voice.

„The thought of you was the only thing that kept me sane..“

He said while you nuzzled your head in his neck, not wanting to ever let go of him again.

„Knowing that this day would come“

You felt something wet drip on your cheek, you raised your head from where it was resting on his shoulder to look at him.

His eyes were filled with tears. He seemed to be happy, relieved… at peace.

Nobody except him knew what he had to face until he was finally back.

What horrors he had to endure while he was stranded somewhere alone.

Something in his eyes told you that he didn’t care about anything that had happened in the past 10 years, instead they seemed to tell you something else.

Something that the both of you knew.

Everything that mattered right now was that he was back, back by your side.. back to the people that cared for him.

„You’re an idiot.. do you know that?“

You somehow managed to chuckle while you looked at his loving eyes.

And there it was, there was the smirk he used to give you whenever he tried to be romantic.

„I‘m your idiot“

„That’s correct“

The last time you heard his voice was when he used the force to talk to you all for one last time before he disappeared.

It also reminded you that the last time he heard your voice was through the filtered comm link.

„I love you“

You moved your hand to cup his cheek, the once which still held his prominent scars.

And he did it too, he placed his hand on the lower side of your face, his other still wrapped tightly around your body.

„I love you too“

Your faces moved closer and when they were close enough, you connected your lips, sharing a long kiss.

It somehow replaced everything you both could’ve said to each other.

You both didn’t say a word, deepening the kiss while you didn’t let go of each other.

As of you were both scared that the other would vanish the second you’d loose the grip on the other.

Chopper started to beep in a teasing way, catching you both off guard as he managed to get a chuckle from Ezra.

You pulled apart and, while you both still held each other close, you also felt a warm feeling inside you. Safety.

A few seconds passed and the sound of boots walking closer to you got louder.

Ezra looked over your shoulder and his eyes widened again.

„Welcome home.. Ezra“

Hera stood in front of them, fighting against her own tears as she looked at her, technically, ‚adopted son‘.

She knelt down to be on the same level as you two.

„Can I..?“

She asked and you two instantly pulled her closer into your hug.

Let’s just say that it was a very heartwarming reunion.

A week passed now since Ezra’s arrival.

You invited him to live with you in your apartment, even offering him the other side of your bed.

Which indeed was an act of true love for you since your most treasured furniture was your bed.

Your sleep being the only thing that you enjoyed.

Considering this, letting him have the other half was indeed something very important to you.

However, there was something different now.

For 10 years you somehow developed a feeling that didn’t seem right.

This was the place where you lived, the place where you spent day and night.

But you never felt complete here.

No matter how much you‘d add there, be it any kind of furniture or decoration, there was something missing.

Something or better.. someone.

With Ezra being back, the building that most of the people would call home, was finally complete.

It’s crazy that you lived here for many years now but you never felt that it was your home. Not until he was again right by your side.

You were cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest.

It was early in the morning and he was still sleeping.

You at the other hand were already awake, nuzzling your face against him.

The effect he had on you was crazy.

And he made you realize something.

No matter where you were, where you lived or where you stayed.

No matter the conditions.

Wherever you were.. wherever he was with you..

That’d be the place you’d call your home.

Because even if you lived here for many years, you never really felt at home.

But since the moment he returned, this warm feeling of knowing that you had somewhere to go.. the word ‚home‘ instantly regained its meaning for you.

He made you feel safe, loved and cared for.

He was your safe space.

Your everything.

Deep in your heart you knew the answer to the question you used to ask yourself in the past years.

He was your home.

And you were his.

He didn’t tell this to you but when he was back in Perridea, he of corse didn’t feel at home at all.

Not only because he was trapped in another galaxy. No.

He even had his own ‚home‘ when he travelled with his new friends.

He spent 10 years of his life there and not one of those years, not even for a second, he was able to somehow feel as if he had a home there.

Because you weren’t there.

And when he came back, when he walked off that Shuttle.

When he finally looked into your eyes.

He instantly felt something that literal buildings didn’t manage to do.

He felt at home.

In his case, his home wasn’t just a lifeless building… instead it was something bigger… a Person.

The Person he wanted to spend his entire life with.

You.

#ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger #star wars #ahsoka series

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