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sushiburritonoms · 2 years

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Random Boba/Din/Luke Drabble

Hi Tumblr, long time so see! I'm still working through some intense writer's block/depression shit, BUT I finally managed to write something yesterday (*gasp*). Its not really enough for AO3 but I figured it was enough for Tumblr.

@bronze-lorica requested "Angry Boba Han" cuddles but my brain translated that as 'traumatized and critically injured slightly feral Boba with bonus Luke'. SHE DIDNT EVEN ASK FOR LUKE BUT HERE I GO SHOVING HIM INTO THINGS AGAIN *cough* I have issues. I may someday revisit this story and flesh it out into an actual thing because I really like the idea, if not this exact execution of it.

Warnings: slightly graphic imagery, severe injury, not much comfort, no Din (sorry)

“Just so we’re clear, I still hate you.”

Boba didn’t dignify that with a response. He couldn’t, not with his fists clenched knuckle white into Luke’s blood-soaked robe. His arms were locked in place with the absolute conviction that if he let go, for one instant, his Jetti would slip away without him.

“No, hate is not nearly strong enough,” Solo continued squawking into Boba’s ear as he pulled his head close to his chest. “Loathe. Or some other finishing school verb that Leia would know.”

They were close enough that Boba could smell him, even through the intense miasma of blood and sweat. The Corellian stank of expensive Core World perfume, engine oil and (somehow) wet Wookiee fur. It was enough to make Boba gag if he could only catch his breath.

Then he felt Solo shove something against his left hip and it nudged him just enough that electricity bolted through him. He twitched and on his lower chest, he felt Luke’s breathing falter.

“Ge’hutuun!” Each syllable was a sacrifice of breath wasted on Solo but Boba didn’t care. “Di’kut..Don’t ...move... me!”

“Someone is bleeding like a stuck puffer pig,” Solo hissed as the pressure against Boba’s hip tightened. “I think it’s you, but I can’t chance it being the kid.” Boba felt a hand pull him (and by extension Luke) closer until Boba was tucked under the smuggler’s chin in a parody of intimacy.

Boba felt Luke’s breath hitch and for a moment even Solo stilled. For a second, the loud hum of the Millenium Falcon leaving atmosphere disappeared and Boba’s world narrowed to only encompass the sound of Luke’s slow uneven breaths. Boba could feel Solo’s pectoral muscles tighten and for a wild second, he considered trying to bite him to make him stop moving.

Then Luke took another slow breath. And another. Boba counted them until he heard Solo sigh.

“Are you sure we can’t cut this thing out of you two?”

Boba really didn’t want to answer him, but he was terrified of what the di’kut might do to them if he didn’t warn him.

“Can’t...cut...beskar.” That was the point of the beskar spear. It was meant to be a weapon that never dulled, that could not be removed from the body of its victim without rendering them a corpse.

It was the most Mandalorian act of revenge against the Mand’alor, using his own spear to piece his two aruetiise lovers like a meat skewer.

Except Din hadn’t been the one to find them (thank the gods that Boba didn’t believe in). It was Solo, dropping by Yavin IV unexpectedly with a ship stocked high with fresh cargo-- including medical supplies--that had stumbled upon the altar where they’d been left to die. The idiot Solo and his only slightly more capable Wookiee and his disgusting, illegally moded light freighter. The ship was faster than even Slave I and gave them the slightest chance of saving Luke.

They just needed to keep him pinned against Boba so that the major artery that the assassins had just narrowly avoided wasn’t nicked. One false move and Boba’s lover would bleed out.

The problem was the Millenium Falcon’s medical bunk wasn’t big enough for the two of them pinned together. This meant the only way to prevent the two of them from siding around was to create a makeshift infirmary in the hold. Solo was a cheap, fourth-rate smuggler that had sacrificed decent dampers for speed and the ride was rough. Too rough for Boba to hold Luke still alone. So Solo and the Wookiee had taken their cargo straps and had tied them around Boba’s back so that Luke could be held in place if (when) Boba’s arms gave out.

“Kriffing Mandos and their kriffing obsession with beskar.” Solo’s voice was as rumbling and jagged as his damn ship and Boba wished he could rip his own ears out. Even if, just this once, he found himself agreeing with him.

“I told the kid this would thing with you and King Buckethead would end badly. Never-ugh--listens to me.”

That would be because you never shut the kriff up! Boba wanted to say. But the burning pain of his wound kept stealing his breath away. There was no way to make himself comfortable, even as Solo shifted to take his full weight. That was Solo’s other job, to keep Boba upright and off the ground. The sharp end of Din’s beskar staff had pierced him through and had originally sat in the dirt until the Wookiee and Solo had carefully removed them from the ground.

Now the sharp end of the beskar staff was trapped between Solo’s legs and his strong arms were the only thing keeping Boba and Luke alive. Solo had the Wookiee strap him in with a makeshift seatbelt made from another cargo strap so he wouldn’t move.

A loud shout from the cockpit echoed through the cargo hold. To his credit, Solo didn’t even twitch.

“Chewie says we’re about to jump to hyperspace. Brace yourself.”

Don’t tell me what to do. He tried to take a steady breath, but he kept expecting to feel the ship rocket into hyperspace, and his body kept tensing, trying to spare Luke the pain of moving. It still felt like he couldn’t get enough air because Luke couldn’t, not with way the beskar had gone through him and damaged one of his lungs. He could feel every shaking breath against him, their blood pulsing together, and he knew he would feel it the moment Luke’s body finally stopped.

“Fett! For kriff’s sake, breathe!”

Boba clenched his jaw so hard, it pushed against Solo’s chest in a painful way. “Murishani sleemo!” Solo swore in Huttinese. The hand that was on Boba’s back moved to gently smack him outside of his head, but it was soft enough so it didn’t unnecessarily jostle him. “Start breathing or I call Chewie in to shoot you!”

He wanted Boba dead so that he could rip his body away from his brother-in-law and save him. Maybe if Boba was a better man he would let him do it, but the thought of being torn away from Luke made what little remained in Boba had come to life. He took a shuttering breath and then another and another until he had enough air to growl.

“Iba’shabuir.”

“You don’t even have parents,” Solo replied. Boba blinked. He hadn’t expected him to understand Mando’a.

“But try that shit again,” Solo continued, “and I’ll make sure you go back into a tank where you belong.”

That made Boba roll his eyes. “If you...had one…”

“Yeah, don’t you start. Do I look like a medical frigate to you?” Solo’s voice had a tinge of regret in it.

“Use...less.”

“Stop wasting your breath.”

The miserable sack of shit had a point. He could hear that they were now in hyperspace just by the groan of the nearby engines. Perhaps Solo’s ship wasn’t as garbage as he’d originally thought. Hyperspace was good, that meant they were heading towards help. Yet the grip Boba had on Luke didn’t loosen. His hands now felt frozen in place, his muscles stiff with pain that Boba ignored with practiced ease.

There were footsteps followed by a soft growl of inquiry.

“Chewie wants to hook you two up for vitals.” Solo explained. They hadn’t spared the time to do so before they’d left orbit. “Once he’s done that he can give you a sedative--”

“No,” Boba growled, his breath hot against Solo’s chest.

“Look this would be a lot easier if you were both knocked out--”

“NO.” He snapped his teeth next to Solo’s shirt in emphasis.

“One wrong move could kill him--”

“He dies, you die.” It was impossible to sound threatening when one’s face was pressed against another man’s chest but Boba did his best to make his words as sharp and deadly as possible.

The Wookiee let out a series of growls and gruff low sounds, too low for Boba to hear--not that he understood much Shyriiwook.

“Shit. Chewie says one of you is bleeding again. Look. This ain’t working. We need to use some of the bacta.”

Boba could feel the Wookiee-Chewie--attaching something to his finger and he had to resist the urge to flick it off. “Do it,” Boba rasped.

There was a pause. “If we use bacta it’s gonna heal your injuries around the staff...we dunno what that’ll mean for the two of you later.” Solo sighed. “But then, if we don’t there’s not gonna be a later, so...yeah, do it, Chewie. They can always cut them apart.”

Boba flinched at the words ‘cut them apart’ and it made his fingers cramp against Luke’s robe.

“For the love of--Fett! You have to calm the kriff down--”

Boba bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood. “Gonna kill you,” he rasped.

“You’ll have to get in line behind Din once he finds out what we did to you two.”

Boba felt Solo’s hand curl around the back of his head. “I know you ain’t all here right now, but here’s what’s going to happen. Chewie is going to give you a pain killer--not a sedative. Just need to you calm down so he can apply the bacta. Hopefully, it’ll seal the wounds around the staff to the point where you both won’t bleed out if we hit a few bumps. Ok?”

It took a moment for Solo’s words to process; too long, judging by the sounds the Wookiee was making next to him. “No painkiller,” he said finally hissed.

Solo grunted. “You can’t pretend to be macho when you’re cuddled up on my chest, Fett.”

Boba didn’t bother to reply. He didn’t have enough breath to explain that standard pain killers no longer worked on him after all the nerve damage wrought by the Sarlacc. He half expected to feel a prick of a needle somewhere on his body and for the warmth of a sedative to hit him, but surprisingly he felt nothing until something cold and slimy was brushed against his abdomen. The feeling made him shiver and the strange sensation of numbness spreading across a part of his body that had felt like fire for so long finally managed to loosen his clenched hands. They fluttered open and nearly fell off of Luke but were caught by strong furry paws and placed back where they belonged.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Solo grumbled when he felt Boba’s body start to relax with the bacta. “As soon as the two of you are fixed up I’m kicking your ass for letting him get hurt like this.”

As soon as the batca fused their broken bodies together, Boba was going to headbutt Solo so hard he’d be spitting teeth for days.

But until then, if he relaxed further into the surprising strength of Han’s arms, well nobody in the ship was ever going to admit it.

-----

Translations:

Ge’hutuun: (Mando’a) insult, a bandit or a thief

di'kut: (Mando’a) idiot

aruetiise: (Mando’a) foreigner (non Mandalorian)

Murishani sleemo! (Huttinese) Bounty Hunter Slimeball

Iba’shabuir (Mando’a): parent f**ker

#slowly crawling out of the crater that was my november #there was a lot going on ok #someday i need to post all these boba/din/luke server prompts to AO3 #stares at motivation and pokes it with a stick #boba/din/luke #sb ficlets

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spoon-writes · 3 years

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Ends of the Earth | Chapter 16

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 16 - Sinead Get Your Gun

"Stop! I'll do it!"

The yellow orb stopped a few centimeters from Sinead's face.

The Master's lips curled into an imitation of a smile and stepped back, extinguishing the yellow light. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Sinead let out a shaky breath. The room suddenly felt ice cold.

"Let her go!" Mando was straining against the guards holding him back.

"Certainly. As soon as you're done with the fight, you're both free to go."

"Now."

The Master chuckled. "That's not possible, I'm afraid. What's to stop you from trying to escape if we don't have some … collateral. I assure you she'll be perfectly safe."

She wished she could see Mando's face. He didn't look at her.

"If anything happens to her …"

The Master's smile grew wider.

"You have my word.

… … … … …

Sinead was dragged to another room a few doors down. It was smaller and bare except for a chair sitting in front of the window. The glass, which spanned the room, wasn't flawless but had a seam running down through the middle. One guard pushed her down on the chair with a rough order not to move. He needn't bother; all but two guards had left with Mando and the Master, but these two were armed to the teeth, and her entire body still felt like jelly that had been forced through a sieve.

The crowd wasn't happy about the delay, and she could feel, as well as hear, their anger through the thick glass.

"He needs to get on with it if he doesn't want a riot on his hands," said the Duros guard.

The Weequay guard grunted. "Ungrateful bastards. The Master's givin' them something to gawk at for decades, least they could do is shut up an' let him do it."

"Let's hope your Mandalorian is up for the task," the Duros said, brushing a cold finger along the back of Sinead's neck, and she flinched to the side.

The guards laughed, and Sinead ignored them. This was all her fault, but there had to be a way to fix it.

Breathe.

"Look likes the Ringmaster's ready," said the Duros, his raspy voice nearly drowned out by the screaming crowd as the Nautolan stepped up on the platform.

"LADIES AND GENTS, WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. TURNS OUT WE HAVE A NEW CHALLENGER COME TO TEST HIS METTLE AGAINST THE ULTIMATE FIGHTER! WILL THIS STRANGER LEAVE WITH HONOR OR WILL HIS BLOOD DRENCH THE SAND!"

Sinead swallowed thickly, her stomach turning at the thought of the kid waiting for them back at the ship.

"FIRST, WE HAVE OUR REIGNING CHAMPION FROM THE DEEP JUNGELS OF KASHYYYK, THE BLOODIED, THE DARKNESS FROM RWOOKRRORRO, UANNKA THE WOOKIEE!"

A Wookiee appeared sprinting up a ramp, long legs quickly carrying him to the middle of the arena. His brown fur was shorter than most Wookiee's and he wore an intricate helmet that glinted in the sharp light. One paw held a heartlance as long as his body. He lifted it to thunderous applause.

The Duros' coarse laugh filled the room. "Your man is kriffed going up against the champion."

"Bet the Master is tryin' to kill him. No one stands a chance against the Bloodied," said the Weequay.

She tried tuning them out while her mind spun wildly out of control. Mando could take care of himself, but even he would get overpowered eventually. She doubted the Master would ever let them go even if Mando managed to get out of the arena alive.

The Ringmaster continued, "THE CHALLENGER TODAY DESCENDS FROM A PROUD WARRIOR RACE NOW MERELY A DYING ECHO IN THE GALAXY. WILL THIS ONE LIVE UP TO THE REPUTATION OF HIS ANCESTORS? BEHOLD, THE MANDALORIAN!"

Mando walked slowly up the ramp, every movement careful and calculated in stark contrast to the Wookiee, who swung his heartlance and roared so loudly that Sinead felt the air's vibrations.

They met in the middle where Mando motionlessly watched Uannka pace back and forth in the sand, puffing out his chest and roaring.

The Weequay leaned against the glass. "Look at that little shiv they've given him."

Sinead strained her eyes and saw that Mando was indeed wielding a blade barely a foot long, nothing compared to Uannka's force pike.

"Probably not even vibro."

"Barely fit to gut a gwerp."

Down on the arena floor, Uannka stopped pacing and was staring down Mando, who didn't move a muscle while Uannka blustered.

"WHO WILL EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND WHO WILL PROVE UNWORTHY?

LET THE FIGHTING BEGIN!"

It happened so fast. Barely had the echo died away before Uannka grabbed his heartlance in both hands and swung it at Mando, who twisted out of the way. The lance hit the ground and threw a cloud of sand up in the air.

They circled each other. Uannka lashed out again, and Mando stepped to the side, grabbing the lance as it passed his head. Uannka kicked out and caught Mando in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the sand.

Uannka followed and lifted his weapon.

Mando hurled a fistful of sand into the Wookiee's face. Uannka roared, and Mando rolled to his feet in one fluid motion. He dashed forward and sliced Uannka across the chest.

The blade barely broke the skin.

"See," Duros laughed. "Not even vibro."

Uannka jumped away and struck with his lance; it glanced off Mando's beskar pauldron.

"When he dies, you think she's going in the ring?" The Duros said.

"Won't put up much of a fight, will she?"

Sinead dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

A tinny voice coming from the Weequay forced Sinead back in the moment.

"Hey, Tyrsk!"

The Weequay scowled and pulled out a comlink. "This better be important," he spat, "The fight's started."

"We got a problem out here with one of the sponsors."

"Yeah? What's it got to do with me? I'm watchin' the prisoner."

"Just get your bony ass out here! We about to have a pissed off Wookiee on our hands."

Sinead sat still as a statue, trying to look as small and harmless as possible.

Tyrsk heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'm comin'. Don't get et before I get there." He looked at the Duros. "Make sure she doesn't move."

The Duros chuckled and fiddled with his blaster. "What's she gonna do? She's just a human girl."

"Just don't let her out of your sight, okay?" Tyrsk stomped across the floor, his pale eyes boring a hole into Sinead's back. "Need to do everything myself," he muttered before the door slammed shut behind him.

Now it was just Sinead and the Duros in the small room and his presence was a heavy weight beside her. Her ears prickled whenever he moved.

She wet her lips. "What ... what did this room use to be?"

"Shut it," the Duros said harshly and flicked her ear.

"It's odd having an empty room up here, is all, surrounded by all this wealth."

"I told you to shut it." The Duros' voice was deceptively calm. "Another word out of you, and I'll feed you to the akk dogs downstairs, ya hear? Just sit there and watch your Mandalorian be turned into ground beef."

Down on the arena floor, Mando went low and drew his blade across Uannka's thigh. The Wookiee fell to one knee to the crowds' delight. Blood dripped from the weapon as Mando backed out of reach.

"FIRST BLOOD HAS BEEN SPILLED!" The Ringmaster screamed.

Uannka got up and thundered towards Mando, roaring so loudly that Sinead felt it in her bones.

Her heart stuttered to a halt.

The heartlance glanced off Mando's armor, throwing sparks into the air. Uannka kept going, his momentum too strong.

He crashed into Mando, and they both went down.

Time slowed as neither of them moved. This was it. He was dead and she was next. A strangled sob escaped her as she though of the kid, waiting for them, not knowing that he would never see Mando again …

Uannka rolled over, and Mando slowly got to his feet. His blade was buried to the hilt in the Wookiee's chest.

The crowd exploded. There was no other word for it. They howled and screamed, jumping up and down until it felt like the arena was shaking.

Sinead let out a breathless laugh. He did it!

The Master watched silently from his throne.

"WHAT A SHOW! THE MANDALORIAN HAS TRULY PROVED HIMSELF TO BE A WORTHY OPPONENT! BUT WHAT WILL HE DO AGAINST A FEARSOME PREDATOR BRED IN THE DESERT OF FLORRUM?"

Mando scrambled back as a large portion of the arena fell away, and a scaly head appeared from the darkness. A long, gnarled body lumbered up the ramp.

Sinead had only seen an Oolo once before, in the palace on Sriluur. It had been a gift from Jabba to Slezza and had killed five palace guards before someone managed to put it down.

"Well, if the Bloodied didn't kill him …" the Duros snickered.

Once the Oolo was entirely out in the open, it reared back and hissed. It looked like a boulder come to life. Its battering-ram sized tail swung from side to side.

Mando dashed across the sand towards Uannka's heartlance.

Both Sinead and the Duros jumped when the door opened, and a new guard stuck his head through the crack.

"We need your help," he said, panting slightly. "The Wookiee's gone mad, we can't control him."

"Get someone from the lower levels to do it."

"They're out doing crowd control or dealing with the Mandalorian. C'mon, man!"

Once again, Sinead looked as small as possible. Please, please, please, I'm no threat to you. Leave!

The Duros opened his mouth but was cut off by a deep roar that did not come from the arena.

"Kriff!" the guard looked down the hall and his face paled. "Just lock the door behind her, what's she gonna do in an empty room?" He slammed the door shut just as another roar split the air.

The Duros pulled her up and checked her pockets for anything that could help her escape. When he didn't find anything, he pushed her back into the chair. "If you've moved so much as a centimeter when I come back, I'll throw you into the Pit. Understand?"

As soon as the door clicked shut, she sprang into action; she wedged the chair under the door even though it wouldn't be much of a challenge for an angry Duros, it could buy her a bit more time. Next, she circled the room, running a hand across the wall, checking for any gap or crack, but it was solid all the way around.

Years of use had turned the carpet into a brownish color instead of deep red, and scuff marks outlined where there once had been heavy furniture. Whatever the room had been, it was now empty, and it didn't look like they'd left anything behind when they cleared it out.

A boom shook the building. Sinead dashed across the floor to look down into the arena: the Oolo lifted its tail and smashed it into the ground, throwing up a tidal-wave of sand where it hit. Mando threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding getting pulverized.

Sinead fell to her knees. There had to be a way out.

The Oolo reared round and tried to squash Mando with its tail again. The window rattled, and she noticed that a small gap had appeared between the wall and the glass.

With shaking hands, she grabbed the frayed rug and pulled. It came away easily and bared the cold stone floor beneath. Once it was gone, she discovered that the glass ran on a small track that looked like it hadn't been used for a long time. A tiny keyhole was set into the sliding.

Was it for maintenance? It looked old and forgotten, the guards certainly hadn't been aware of it, otherwise they wouldn't have left her alone.

She pulled out two carpet pins and jammed them into the hole. Blood pounded in her ears and she shot a frantic look over her shoulder at the door. She kept losing her grip on the pins. One snapped and she threw it across the room.

"C'mon," she whispered, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, the mechanism clicked in place and the glass moved a centimeter before getting stuck with a grinding sound.

Sinead jammed her fingers into the crack and heaved, ignoring her screaming muscles.

Slowly, the window moved.

The deafening noise from the crowd nearly knocked her back. Thousands of voices joined together to make an unintelligible howl.

A narrow ledge ran alongside the window just wide enough for her to walk on without falling to her death.

Down in the arena, the Oolo brought its front legs down on the ground with a resounding boom. Mando jumped out of its field of vision, and it reared back, its big yellow eyes scanning the arena.

Mando appeared beneath the Oolo. The creature hissed when it saw him, spitting globs of venom. Its eyes narrowed.

Sinead couldn't look away.

As the Oolo came down, Mando thrust the lance between the Oolo's armored plates between its front legs. Its scream reverberated in Sinead's head.

She took a deep breath and stepped out on the worn stone. The air was hot and dry. It felt like she was back on Sriluur. A metallic smell of blood permeated everything.

Pressing herself against the cold, smooth glass, she inched her way along the ledge, hoping that the rooms would be empty.

A shriek went through the crowd, and Sinead instinctively looked down; she'd never been scared of heights, but the fact that the only thing standing between her and a deadly drop was a couple of centimeters of crumbling stone made her head spin and her mouth taste like cobber.

Mando backed up as three nexu stalked across the sand, their wide mouths open in a terrible grin.

She tore her eyes away to concentrate on the perilous walk. As long as nobody looked up, she would make it. Had the two guards discovered that she had escaped?

Suddenly the glass fell away, and she tumbled into the repository, or whatever it was. The world spun as she buried her fingers in the carpet, allowing herself to feel the solid ground before getting to her feet. The floor was littered with broken glass and ancient weapons which had yet to be cleared away. She grabbed a strange looking blaster on her way across the floor and concealed it under the back of her shirt. Pressing an ear to the door, she tried to still her beating heart enough to hear. There were sounds of running feet and anther ear-splitting roar; so Feyvik was still going.

She peeked into the corridor. Sounds of fighting just around the corner made her run the opposite direction. She had no idea where she was running to, only that she had to get out of there.

Shadows appeared on the wall, and her heart stopped.

A door opened next to her, and with a quick decision, she shoved it open and dove inside. A terrified servant yelped, and Sinead clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh!" She hissed, shooting a frightened look at the door. It sounded like a whole battalion sprinted by outside.

The room was a small kitchen, a stone counter and an unlit heater the only furniture. A door led into another room.

The servant shook under Sinead's hand.

A distinct Wookiee roar cut through the air and gave Sinead an idea.

"What are you doing here?" She ripped her hands away.

"I-I was just-"

"There's a Wookiee running rampant on this floor! We have to get out of here! Now!"

The servant's legs gave out under her, and Sinead had to grab her again to keep her from falling.

"Listen-"Sinead hauled her to the nearest counter and sat her down- "who else is up here?"

The servant blubbered, and Sinead shook her. For the plan to work, she had to keep the servant off balance. "Well?"

"I'm the only one up here. The Master-"

"Is there another way out of here? The stairs aren't safe." For me, anyway.

The pale servant nodded slowly and pointed a shaking finger at a metal square set into the wall. Sinead pressed a button beside it, and it opened to reveal a small lift, barely big enough for a person.

"Where does it lead to?"

"Kitchen down in the Undercroft. The big one."

"Right." Sinead crossed the floor and grabbed the servant. "In you go."

"W-what? I can't fit in there!"

Another roar sounded closer than before.

"You'd rather stay?"

Sinead helped the servant squeeze into the lift. Once she was tucked in, Sinead's finger hovered over the down button. "When you get down there, you need to tell everyone to run. Master's orders."

"But why would he-"

"Have you ever seen what an angry Wookiee can do to a person? Do you want to?"

The servant looked like she was about to faint.

"Remember! You have to run."

Once the lift closed, she had to work fast on some kind of distraction.

A stack of crates in the corner grabbed her attention and she tore the lid away and peered inside, finding dark bottles packed in sawdust. She turned one of the bottles over. Cassandran Choholl. Very useful. Very flammable.

She grabbed as many bottles as she could carry and kicked open the other door, hoping the servant was right when she said that she was alone. The door opened into a study, the only light coming from the window. It seemed that care had been taken to make the room completely soundproof, as the constant hum from the crowd faded away as soon as she stepped inside.

She threw one of the bottles as hard as she could. It flew through the air and landed on the desk, smashing into a thousand pieces. The air was filled with a sharp, sweet smell that made Sinead's nose itch.

The rest of the bottles followed. The last one was upended on the floor,

trailing back

to the door, which she propped open with a vase. Even if she ended up dying, there was a sort of solace to be found in the fact that she had wasted more credits than she would ever see in a lifetime in just a minute.

She needed fire. Every cabinet under the counter was thrown open and the content pulled out on the floor. Her mouth was dry as she frantically tried to find anything useful. It was clear this kitchen was rarely used. At least not for any fire-making purposes.

A sack at the very back of a cupboard fell over and spilled a small amount of white powder on the floor. As she pulled it out, a cloud of white whirled into the air. Flour. She could use that.

The lift whirred as it reached the kitchen down below. Sinead punched the button to call it back. That done, she flung the sack around, coating the entire room in flour. It rose like a wave around her, coating the inside of her mouth and nose. For a moment, it was all she could see.

The ancient heater groaned as she turned a knob and a small, blue flame appeared between the scorched metal.

As soon as the lift appeared, she threw herself into the small space. The last thing she saw before the lift doors closed was the cloud of flour growing bigger and the lone flame flickering on the heater. She had to curl up to fit in the lift, her knees pressed against her chest and her head bent at an unnatural angle. The contraception whirred and shook violently. The lift became smaller and smaller. Her clothes stank of Choholl, the smell enough to make her dizzy.

Just as the cold fingers of panic had closed around her throat, the doors opened. She rolled out onto the cold stone floor. The kitchen was empty.

She was picking herself up from the floor when a boom shook the building, and a blast of hot air shot out of the open lift, which jumped, and the rope holding it snapped, sending it falling into the darkness with a crash.

There were screams from up above and thunderous footsteps on the other side of the door. Once they died away, she stole into the stairwell.

The undercroft was in complete chaos. Panicked shouts filled the big chamber, workers dashed between each other, hauling ropes or cages across the floor.

No one noticed an extra person join in the confusion.

Most of the remaining workers were prepping three akk dogs to be sent up. The creatures snarled and snapped at anyone getting too close to their cages.

Sinead's eyes were drawn to the holoprojector by the large control panel showing a translucent Mando running from the last nexu. The other two lay dead beside the Oolo.

All the guards were gone, and she still had the strange blaster; taking out the lone worker operating the controls would be easy. Until someone attacked her with an electro whip, that is.

Instead, she hurried into the adjacent chamber where the caged slaves were up and whispering amongst themselves. Fear and confusion hung in the air.

Only two guards were walking back and forth between the cages. One of them brought his electrostaff down on the bars, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Shut up!" he bellowed.

She found Belan and slunk up beside the cage.

"You're alive," he whispered, wrinkling his brows when he saw her flour-covered appearance. "The explosion, that was you?"

"No time," she ground out. "Need you to distract the guards."

"How?"

"Figure something out."

She moved back into the shadows as he pushed his way to the top of the cage and waited until one of the guards was right beside him. His hands shot out and grabbed the guard, slamming him against the bars.

"Get off me, you little whelp!" The guard tried to snatch his blaster, but new hands grabbed his arms and held them down.

"Hey! Let him go!" the other guard ran forwards, brandishing his electrostaff.

Sinead pulled out the blaster, took aim, and fired.

A small projectile exploded out of the blaster with an ear-splitting bang and an acrid smell of chemicals. The kickback almost wrenched it out of her hand.

The guard stumbled and fell to the ground.

A dirty hand snaked around the last guard and grabbed his blaster, and he went down with a strangled scream, a smoking hole in his back.

"Get us out of here!" someone screamed.

Wires ran from all the cages to a mechanism bolted on the wall, with a simple lever that she grabbed and pulled. Every door beeped and slid to the side simultaneously. Soon the chamber was filled with thin bodies clamoring towards the sewer entrance, nearly lifting Sinead off her feet. She was shoved against a hitherto unseen workstation hidden between the cages, the sharp edge cutting into her hip. Cards from a game of sabacc were scattered across the surface.

She was about to fight her way through the crowd when something peeking out from under the workstation caught her eye and she pulled it out.

An old datapad fell into her hands, one of those without any light that flickered to a new page when you pressed a small button at the bottom of the screen. In the dimly lit chamber all she could make out was a long list of names and a number. She shoved it under her shirt and out of the way.

Panic spread among the newly freed captives as the sewer remained shut. Sinead was shoved as some of the group turned and ran for the tunnel, spilling into the main chamber. Sounds of fighting reached her, and she fought her way through the mass of bodies.

Most of the workers ran when the slaves appeared; some grabbed the nearest weapon, but they didn't stand a chance against the press of panicked people. Sinead watched as a worker brandishing an electro-whip was swarmed until he turned and ran.

Sinead made her way to the control panel. Panic from the freed slaves and her own fear made her vision blur.

The translucent Mando was still alive, but the last nexu was nearing, and he had lost the lance. When it came too close, he shot a burst of fire from his gauntlet that made the nexu rear back before the flame died away.

She looked over the control panel. There were so many buttons and levers.

The akk dogs howled.

"Screw this," she mumbled and pressed a big red button.

The mechanisms groaned as the three cages were lifted into the air. A portion of the ceiling slid down.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" She watched horrified as the creatures lumbered up the ramps to thunderous applause.

On the holoprojector, Mando threw himself to the side at the last second, and the nexu tore into one of the akk dogs, the nexu's long claws ripping into its flanks.

She started slapping the console, eyes fixed on the hologram, her breath coming out in shallow bursts. Cages opened and closed. Some were lifted high in the air or slammed into the ground.

Suddenly, a section of the ceiling fell away, and the Mandalorian rolled into the chamber in a cascade of sand.

… … … … …

Din's lungs were burning. He inched back, keeping an eye on the nexu, acutely aware that he was surrounded.

So this was how it would end. He hoped Sinead made it back to the ship, got the kid out of there. He tried to push the thought away.

The nexu crouched and opened its maw, emitting a foul stench of death and decay.

He wouldn't go down without a fight. The pain in his arm where another nexu had gotten him died away as his heart rate slowed.

This is the way.

The nexu pounced, and the ground vanished under his feet.

Din rolled backward down the ramp until suddenly he was falling. He crashed into the ground, knocking every last breath out of his chest.

The world spun. He tried to get up, but a weight landed on his chest, sharp claws tearing into his already wounded arm.

Something exploded above him and the weight disappeared.

He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"Mando? Oh, please don't be dead."

Slowly, his vision cleared.

"Sinead?" He gasped out with his first breath.

"Thank the stars!" Her forehead hit his chest plate for a moment before she got up and pulled him with her. "We have to run!"

Muscles shook as he got to his feet. "… the … records-"

"No time!" She kept a hold on his uninjured hand and pulled him along.

As his head was clearing, he noticed that the chaos around them, empty cages and creatures fighting among themselves.

They ran up a flight of stairs, Din letting her lead the way while he came to grips with the fact that he was still alive.

Citizens of Strako, the ones who'd screamed for his blood just moments before, ran amok through the corridors. There were snarls and howls behind him as the creatures followed them up the stairs.

The cold night air hit him when they made it outside. No guards were manning the main entrance, no one stopped them as they disappeared into the city.

Strako rang out with screams that seemed louder in the night. Frantic citizens fled while snarling, roaring, howling creatures spilled from the arena.

They never stopped running.

The spaceport teemed with activity on the ground and in the air. Sinead took charge, shoving her way to the Crest, which stood untouched in its corner.

She was the first to get up the ramp and disappear into the ship. The child woke up with an angry screech as she thundered past his crib and scrambled up the ladder to the cockpit.

Din pressed the command to close the ramp and let himself slide down the wall with a pained grunt. His body buzzed with adrenaline. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he tried to slow his breathing.

The ship shook as it came to life and rose into the air, wobbling a bit before moving out of the spaceport.

Small hands tugged on his pant leg, and he opened his eyes. The child looked up at him with a scrunched face and drooping ears, gripping the doll tightly. He sensed when Din looked at him and made a pathetic little sound.

He was scared. The realization made Din's heart clench.

"It's okay," Din mumbled and lifted the kid onto his lap. "It's okay."

The kid pressed his face against Din's chest plate. The beskar had to be so cold and hard, but he still did it.

"It's okay."

Only when the ship had entered hyperspace, did Din allow himself to relax, letting some of the tension ebb out of his body. He didn't care where they were going, as long as it was away from Loovria. Another planet to add to his rapidly growing list of places he wanted to avoid at all costs.

His eyes drifted shut. With every beat of his heart, a stab of pain shot through his arm.

The sound of Sinead's boots hitting the floor brought him back. He just wanted to sleep.

"Mando?"

He looked at her. She strode across the floor, her hands fidgeting with white powder clinging to her hair and clothes.

"You … you're okay?"

He winced as he tried to sit up. "Yeah."

Sinead breathed out a sigh of relief. "I don't know where we're going. Just picked the first route out of here."

"We'll figure it out."

Her face was drawn under the harsh lights. "Mando, I'm…" she stopped, biting her lower lip.

The child made a sound as Din shifted him to cradle him against his chest before trying to stand up.

Sinead was there, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling him towards the bunk. His first instinct was to shake her off, tell her that he could handle it himself. But he didn't. He was just so tired.

Bloodlets fell from his fingertips, and the kid reached for the injury. He made an angry sound as Sinead grabbed him and pulled him away.

"You need help with that?" Her eyes were fixated on the dripping blood, ignoring the wriggling kid in her arms.

"I got it," Din grunted. Gritting his teeth, he carefully peeled the glove off.

It was a mess. Two puncture wounds on the back of his hand seemed to be the source of most of the blood, but he could feel other injuries further up his forearm. If it hadn't been for the beskar, he wouldn't have an arm left to patch up.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sinead stepped closer while making sure the kid stayed in her arms. "Fuck," she breathed.

"It's fine." It really wasn't, but he didn't know what else to say. He gave up trying to roll his sleeve over the injuries, instead cutting the fabric away with a nearby knife.

Sinead put down the child and raced to the nearest compartment. "I used the last t' pala paste. Stupid."

"Sinead, you don't have to …" he watched as she ripped open another compartment and rifled through the contents. Pain pulsed through his arm in a steady rhythm, reaching all the way up to his shoulder. The wounds on his forearm would be easy enough to fix, but his hand was a whole other question; the nerves, tendons, and bones would take little more than a bandage.

The kid tried to climb onto the bunk, and Din halfheartedly pushed him away.

"Got it!"

Sinead turned, a bacta patch clutched in her hands, one he didn't even remember getting. Bacta was so expensive in the Outer Rim that he usually did without it. She dragged an empty box across the floor and sat down in front of him, her legs brushing against his. He watched her as she grabbed the knife and carefully cut the packet open.

"What are you doing?" He instinctively leaned back, trying to get more space between them.

"An old trick I learned in the palace. If you have a lot of injuries and not a lot of bacta, you do this." The tip of her tongue poked out between her lips as she cut the last three sides. A sickly sweet smell quickly spread through the hull. "These things can't really be reused. Not very useful in this situation."

He let her nervous chatter and the hum from the ship's engine wash over him. Pain was the only reason he hadn't already drifted off to sleep.

Something warm touched his arm and he jumped, his other hand shooting out to protect himself.

Sinead stared wide-eyed up at him. He'd grabbed her wrist so hard, she had dropped a piece of cloth that fluttered to the floor.

"Sorry," she breathed. "I thought you were asleep."

He blinked hard and let go of her wrist. The new adrenaline spike made his head spin. Had she gotten up to get the rag? The kid was back in his crib, trying to climb over the side, so she must have.

"Wasn't," he mumbled.

She bent down and grabbed the rag from the floor. "I'm just going to clean up the blood, okay?" Her voice was soft.

"Can do it myself." He reached out for the cloth, but she kept it out of his reach.

"Just relax. I know what I'm doing."

Instincts honed by years alone in the Outer Rim screamed out to push her away, to find a secluded place and mend his wounds alone. Here, he was helpless, vulnerable. If she wanted, she could kill him right now, and he wouldn't be able to stop her.

He couldn't suppress a shudder when she touched his wrist, gently turning his hand. She stopped at the movement, her eyes flickering to his. "This is probably gonna hurt."

He nodded slowly.

Biting her lower lip, she set to work on cleaning the blood, which had mostly stopped flowing. Some of it had already dried, and she rubbed carefully, watching him for any sign of pain.

He gritted his teeth, focusing his eyes on a hook hanging from the ceiling. Pain coursed through his arm, but that wasn't the most distracting part. Pain he was used to. Sinead's touch was light and gentle as she worked, now and again glancing up at him as if she could see his face, looking for any sign of discomfort. When she moved her hand, she left a tingling sensation just beneath his skin.

She left the rag on the bunk, out of the kid's reach. He had given up trying to get to Din and was sulking on the floor.

"Can you hold this, please?"

Din held the bacta patch in his good hand, and she opened it carefully, taking care to not spill any of the gel. Instead of just a gob of bacta, there was a wad of gauze drenched in the gel, and she peeled off the first see-through sheet.

"Worst part's over." She smiled up at him, but it didn't fully reach her eyes.

She started from the top, carefully placing the paper over a gash. Immediately, it was like Din had submerged his arm in water so cold it dulled all other senses.

"It takes longer to work this way, and there'll be some scarring, but it's better than nothing."

A few more scars didn't really make a difference.

She worked in silence. Din watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mando …" she said, breaking him out of his daze. "I'm so sorry about all of this …" She stared intently at his wounded arm. "This is my fault. I should never have asked you to do this."

His brows furrowed. "But you didn't? The Pau'an-"

"That's not what I meant." She brushed a few tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid out of her face and left a bloody mark across her cheek. "I should never have asked you to pretend to be a fighter, or leave you with Rundu while I run off blindly, getting both of us caught."

He tried to summon the anger he had felt when she left him with the Neimoidian, but the bacta and her touch made it hard to feel anything at all.

"Thank you."

Her hands stilled, and their eyes met. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Din was the first one to look away, not sure what to say. His eyes fell on the blaster Sinead had left on the floor when she first entered the Crest. Suddenly, the explosion he'd heard made sense.

"Where d'you find a slugthrower?"

She looked over her shoulder at the weapon. "From the Master's collection."

"And the flour?"

Sinead looked confused for a moment before huffing out a laugh. "Oh, that. My little distraction." She scratched the side of her nose, leaving more blood. "My mother told me if I ever needed a big explosion, to find the kitchen and get my hands on whatever loose powder I could find. Every place has a kitchen. Well, except this one." She gestured with a bloodied hand to the rest of the ship.

"There's a galley."

She shot him a wry smile. "No, there's not. Just because you weld a cooker and a cold box to the inside of a gunship doesn't mean it's a galley."

"Mhm." He allowed himself to smile and leaned his head against the wall. Sinead's touch was becoming almost hypnotic.

The next thing he remembered was Sinead standing up, having wrapped the last of the bacta around his hand.

"You go get some rest. I'll clean this up," she said, going to the sink and cleaning her hands. Din noticed the blood down her shirt and in a puddle on the floor. The child had fallen asleep leaning up against his crib.

"I'm fine."

"You can't be fine, you nearly got your arm bitten off." She lifted the child and put him in his crib. "Go. I promise the world won't end just because you get some well-deserved rest."

It felt like it would.

"But-"

"Mando." The word came out in a sigh. "The bacta won't work properly unless you sleep. There's nothing here for you to do."

He looked at the kid sleeping peacefully in his crib. "If anything happens, come get me."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay!" She held her hand up, palms out. "If, for whatever reason, anything happens while we're hurtling through hyperspace, I promise I'll come and get you."

Din grunted and rolled his eyes under the helmet.

The door to the storage space closed behind him, and he slipped off his helmet, taking a deep breath of recycled air. It was over.

He crawled onto the cot, not bothering to get out of the rest of his armor. His body felt heavy, and it was like his arm didn't know whether to hurt or to tingle. Quickly, the smell of bacta spread in the small room.

The last thing he remembered before drifting away was the sound of Sinead knocking around on the other side of the door.

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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alverrann · 4 years

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A Wookiee’s Love

I have a headcanon that Wookiees show love to each other through grooming one another. So a Wookiee whose fur is really well groomed must be really loved, and a Wookiee who is scruffy and scraggly doesn’t have anyone who likes them enough to groom the spots that they can’t reach.

Watching ROTJ is what gave me this idea, when Chewie and Han reunite. It’s adorable.

Anyway. My smuggler - Kenja Roux - is a human male with red hair, and he’s kinda freaked out when Bowdaar starts running his hands through his hair. Because he likes Bowdaar, he puts up with it, but he’s honestly the only one on the crew who has to. Akaavi and Guss are bald, and Risha keeps her hair up (she tells Bowdaar that he can only touch it when it’s down, then proceeds to always put it up, because that’s how she is).

Bowdaar won’t touch Corso’s hair, because it’s “disgusting.” So Kenja is the one who takes the full brunt of their resident Wookiee’s love, and he eventually learns to appreciate it.

Ficlet time!

The first time it happened was directly after an explosion, so Kenja was too shocked to really recognize the exchange as something especially strange. He was sitting on the ground, his head ringing, attempting to come to terms with his most recent brush against death.

So severe was the ringing in his ears, he hardly even heard the roar of his newest friend, only recognizing the Wookiee's presence when a furry hand ran through his hair several times. "Wha- ...?"

A soft whiffling noise reached his ears, and it took him a while to understand it as Shyriiwook, expressing worry and fear for his wellbeing. Kenja was working himself up to an answer when his world suddenly tilted, furry arms lifting him off the ground as the worried whines continued. The world spun beneath him, and he gripped long, soft fur in each of his fists as he fought his sudden desire to throw up.

The grunts and huffs hadn't stopped in the time that it took him to get control of his body, and he was beginning to recognize specific words and phrases. Bowdaar was ranting about his recklessness, and growling things about how important it was that he stay alive. Kenja wasn't sure why, but something about the situation (maybe the idea that someone cared about his life more than he did, which was unbelievable, considering how much he cared) struck him as hilarious. He could feel himself shaking as he laughed, and distantly, he figured that he was in shock.

The funny thing about shock, though, was that it made you feel like it wasn't such a bad thing. And so despite knowing that he needed to snap out of it, he kept laughing. Bowdaar seemed angry at him for this, and it didn't take long before his world tilted again, and he was looking up at his fuzzy ally.

The thought of Bowdaar being fuzzy sent him into another round of giggles, and it was only the pain that came with the Wookiee running his hands through Kenja's hair again that snapped him out of it. There were other voices around him, and he belatedly realized that Corso was the one leaning over him now, grabbing his head and gently tilting it.

Kenja tried to pull out of his grip, but his friend's hands swiftly turned into durasteel, since they held him fast, and he said something about holding still. This made Kenja want to wiggle more, but that was when he noticed that his head was wet. "Di' I get h- hit?" His words were slurring, and the part of his brain that wasn't throbbing told him that he likely had a concussion.

Bowdaar's hands gently replaced Corso's in holding his head still, the fingers carding gently through his hair in the same way that they had before. Kenja suddenly realized that it was weird, and wondered why the Wookiee kept doing it.

Had Corso answered him? He hadn't heard an answer, and so he tried again, his mouth sluggishly repeating itself, "Di' I get hit?"

There was a scoff from somewhere behind Corso, and a feminine voice said something in a derisive tone. It sounded something like, "... even remember who he is?"

All Kenja could think was that Corso had finally found a girl to bring home with him, and he grinned as he sought the eyes of his friend. He never got to congratulate the younger man though, since at just that moment, a sharp pain in the side of his head had him pulling away from his friends. "-th' kriff're you tryin' ta do?!"

Bowdaar adjusted his hold, never letting go even while Kenja continued his feeble attempts at escape. Soothing words were directed at him, but there were too many at a time for him to understand them all. So he didn't try. Instead, he focused on Bowdaar's fuzzy hands, and how the Wookiee would occasionally move a finger to brush it through his hair.

Was that normal?

It was just as a voice declared that it had done all it could do that Kenja remembered his still unanswered question. Bowdaar let go of his head, even as a hand slipped under his upper arm, coaxing him to his unsteady feet. "Did I get hit?" He tried to pull away from the hand, but it didn't move, and he knew that Corso was holding onto him just to spite him, now.

The feminine voice scoffed again, and Corso gave a laugh that Kenja could only describe as nervous. Was that a lady that Corso had brought home? He was brought out of his reverie when Bowdaar ran his hand through Kenja's hair once more, his soft whuff filled with fondness, "Yes, you were hit. Now you will rest."

"Oh." Was all Kenja could think to say as he was led to his own medical bay (the almost clean smell gave it away). He was pushed onto a bed, and told by the woman (Corso's girlfriend?) to try and rest. Bowdaar put his hand through Kenja's hair again as he said he would watch and care for him, but Kenja didn't pay much attention.

He had just remembered Risha, and the idea that Corso could ever date her had sent him into another fit of giggles. A fuzzy hand carded through his hair again as his Wookiee sighed. It was the last sound Kenja heard before he fell asleep.

The second time that it happened was - in Kenja's opinion - proof that the first time had happened at all. The captain didn't know the odds, but he felt that the chances of the second time having been an explosion as well were astronomical. Of course, he couldn't really complain, considering the fact that he hadn't been caught in it this time around.

Bowdaar's reaction, however, was exactly the same. The Wookiee greeted him with a roar that asked after his well-being, running up to him and pushing his furry hands through Kenja's hair several times.

"Hey! Hey!" Kenja laughed, slightly uncomfortable with the attention (which, considering how he normally felt about the spotlight, was strange). "I'm all right! I'm okay!"

Bowdaar gave a skeptical sniff, pointing out that Kenja hadn't been so lucky the last time.

"Yeah, good thing you were there." Kenja smiled as he said it, but Bowdaar gave him a glare as he responded.

"Your life is not a joking matter." The fuzzy hand came up again, and Kenja found himself pulling away, to keep it from touching him.

"Why do you do that?"

"Worry for your life?" The Wookiee snorted in apparent disbelief, and Kenja cut him off before he could continue.

"No, why do you keep touching my hair?"

Suddenly, Bowdaar seemed embarrassed. His fingers twitched as he gave a small huff. It was an untranslatable sound that basically meant, "You will wait. I must think." It was often used in Wookiee arguments. Kenja nodded, allowing him his moment of thought, knowing that interrupting it could lose him his arms if he weren't careful.

After a long moment of silence, the Wookiee responded. "Among my people, it is a sign of affection to groom those close to you." He said it quickly, and Kenja was left wondering how to respond. He wished he knew how to do the weird huffing noise, because he didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings, but his first response was an insult.

Hey, it was weird! Being groomed was weird! That was- ... an animal thing! Kenya must have taken too long to answer, because Bowdaar gave a quiet huff, "I will stop this if it makes you uncomfortable." He sounded so broken, and it made Kenja feel terrible. That was how his mouth began running on its own,

"No, no it's fine!"

Bowdaar looked extremely skeptical, and Kenja knew he would have to prove it before the Wookiee believed him. So before he could second-guess himself, he reached out and ran a hand through his newest friend's fur, forcing his lips up into a smile. The Wookiee sniffed again, then growled. "You smell strange. Are you lying?"

"Nope!" Kenja lied, pulling the other in for a hug before he could sniff again. "Thanks for worrying about me, buddy. You do it however you want." He hoped that the lie didn't have a smell like the first one seemed to, and ran his hands through Bowdaar's fur in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

To his relief, the Wookiee responded by hesitantly running a hand through his hair again, and when he didn't flinch away, did it again, but with more gusto. Then Kenja was caught up in a tight hug that had his breath leaving his body while he mechanically kept his hands running through the wookiee's fur, trying to keep in mind that he was doing it for Bowdaar, and only Bowdaar.

"I am glad to worry for you." A whuffing noise informed him. "I will never stop."

Despite Kenja's best and most subtle efforts, the hug lasted for another five minutes, and only ended when Corso came upon them, made a choking noise, and then ran away (he was probably laughing his tail off, the kriffer). That's what he got for getting involved in an explosion so close to the ship, anyway. At least it hadn't been Risha.

It was in this way that Captain Roux prepared himself for a very strange relationship, constantly attempting to keep in mind that a Wookiee was the best kind of person to have at your side, even if it meant putting up with ... grooming.

#bowdaar #risha drayen #guss tuno #akaavi spar #corso riggs #smuggler #swtor #swtor fanfiction #wookiee #headcanon #cute #star wars #video game

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