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obwjam · 3 years

Note

ok but old man Rex finding a tiny on the Ghost/Rebel ships and taking them in and caring for them not only because they're vulnerable, but because he used to have a tiny kid during the Clone Wars and last time he wasn't there for them they disappeared, so he's not letting that happen again.

PLEEEEEASE ugh i’ve been sent asks like this before but i love and cherish every single one of them because i just adore old man rex...... so here have some writing :)

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He wouldn’t stop staring at you. You thought you were going insane. Every time you nudged someone to say, ‘Hey, look, I’m not crazy,’ he would immediately look away. The worst part is that when you tried to talk to him, he would stare at the floor and clench his jaw and fail to find his words.

“Ezra? Ezra!”

You reached up to tug a lock of your friend’s hair to get his attention. They called their ship the Ghost, so you referred to them as The Ghost Crew. They had found you on Lothal just a few short weeks ago, smack in the middle of an empty field that you were laboring to trek across -- fleeing the city had been difficult enough as it was. Ezra, understanding the struggle of not having any family, offered you a place on the Ghost until you could find other borrowers to stay with.

But these people didn’t know how to stay out of trouble. You happily supported the rebel cause, but kept your distance from the action. The Clone War had taken too much out of you already. Hera was happy to have some company on the ship, anyway.

“Ow! Hey! What, what is it?” Ezra groaned, rubbing his head gingerly.

“Shh! Look. He’s doing it. Watch, watch!”

Everyone seemed to trust this clone. Fulcrum -- ahem, Ahsoka -- spoke highly of him. He was willing to help and knew a lot about everything. Even Kanan had some respect for him, though he would never admit it.

So why did he act weird only around you?

Ezra tried to discreetly glance at Rex, but Ezra was about as discreet as a Star Destroyer. Rex locked eyes with Ezra, confused, before his gaze wandered down to you. Less confused.

“Eum... this is awkward,” Ezra said, joining in on the staring contest. “I see what you mean now, (Y/n).”

At that, Rex flushed red. He didn’t think he was being obvious, but apparently it was worse than he thought. He swore the more he stared at you, the more you looked like...

“Everything okay in here?”

Kanan was standing in the threshold, wondering what exactly the stand-off was for. He immediately sensed something was off, and when he turned to Rex, the alarm bells were ringing loud.

“We were just leaving,” you spoke up, hoping Ezra would respond quickly.

“Hm? Oh, oh yeah. We’re, uh. We’re leaving now.”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed on tight as Ezra spun on his heels and headed back up to his bunk. He still wasn’t very in tune with the Force, but even he could feel your apprehension.

Rex sighed. He couldn’t keep flubbing like this. He was a grown man. A very grown man. He made a mistake; one among many. He didn’t need to keep beating himself up about it. There was nothing he could do to change it. Maybe that was the worst part.

“He’s really been doing that the whole time?” Ezra asked, scooping you up off his shoulder and placing you on the bedside table as he flopped down on his bed.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” you sighed, exasperated. “I don’t get it. It’s like he has it out for me.”

“Do you think he’s gonna do something? Like, kidnap you and turn you in to the Empire?”

“Ezra... I don’t think he’s secretly Empire.”

“Well, maybe borrowers are highly valuable to some Imperial general! Maybe Rex just wants some extra credits.”

“You’re really not helping right now.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry.” Ezra looked over at you slumped over with your head in your hands. He frowned. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him? Are you crazy?”

Ezra shrugged. “I mean, it couldn’t hurt, right? If you don’t think he’s bad.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but found you didn’t actually have a counterargument. Sometimes Ezra stumbled his way into a half-decent idea.

Rex wasn’t in the mood to deal with Kanan scolding him for no good reason, so he quickly retreated back to the guest quarters that he called home on the Ghost. Maybe he should just go back to Seelos. Maybe getting involved in this rebellion was a bad idea. Maybe--

“Um. Rex?”

Rex froze. He looked up toward the door, wondering if maybe he was just hearing things, before realizing who exactly was speaking to him. Almost afraid, his eyes flickered to the ground.

“Oh. H-hi, (Y/n),” Rex stuttered. His face had gone cold.

“Can I...?” you asked, jerking your head forward and trying to keep your cool. Rex was sitting, but you rarely liked to walk around by yourself on the Ghost. Looking up at everyone and everything made you sweat.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Rex nodded, weakly gesturing for you to come in. “Why are -- what’re you doing here?”

“I, uh. I wanted to -- just ask you something. If that’s okay.”

“Of course, kiddo,” Rex said, suddenly grimacing when he let that nickname slip. “Do you, uh, do you need me to...” He glanced to his hand resting on his knee. You nodded awkwardly and took a small step backward as Rex took a knee and placed his hand in front of you. The silence was deafening in the several seconds it took for him to bring you from the floor up to the table.

Once back on solid ground, you shuffled your feet, barely able look at the very person you were supposed to be speaking to. You didn’t think this would be easy, but you couldn’t even find a word to grab onto and vocalize.

“Is... everything alright?” Rex knew why you were here, but someone needed to say something.

You pursed your lips. Here goes nothing. “I... I’m sorry,” you started. Rex raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, or -- or if I said something stupid to make you mad. Ezra and I, we like to joke around, I swear, we didn’t mean anything by it--”

“Stop.”

You froze. Great, now he’s really mad.

Rex was wringing his hands, having just as much trouble finding the right thing to say as you were. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve been acting strange, and you deserve an explanation why.” He stole a glance at you. You were just waiting.

Rex sighed, his breath quivering slightly. Here goes nothing. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first borrower I’ve met. Back during the war, I knew... well, let’s just call them a friend. Found them rummaging through camp on some backwater planet. They were scared, and -- and had nowhere to go. So we took ‘em in -- me and the boys in the 501st. It took ‘em a while. They were really frightened to be around us and it took forever to get their trust. But we were inseparable.” He laughed faintly at some old memory. “The kid was always getting into some kind of trouble. Drove Dogma crazy. I think Echo and Fives encouraged ‘em to mess around, just to make him mad. Huh, annoyed me too. But I couldn’t get mad at them.” Rex shivered and closed his eyes. Why was it so cold in here now? “I... I don’t remember exactly where we were. Some ice planet, it was horrible. Cody wanted to see me, and they didn’t want to be left alone. I shouldn’t have let them come... but they insisted. I thought I had them... no, I know I had them with me. But it was windy, and the snow was blinding. We looked everywhere for them. I swear we scanned the entire planet. But the blizzard was so bad I couldn’t even retrace my steps. Felt like I was walking in damn circles, calling their name until I lost my voice...”

Rex trailed off. He was completely out of words. He had used up all his energy, and all he could focus on right now was breathing.

You could barely process what you just heard. It was all eerily familiar. “Rex...” you started. You needed to take a breath of your own. “I’m--”

Rex cut you off. “You don’t need to say anything. It’s okay. You just... well, you just remind me so much of them.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t expecting that.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have -- I’m sorry.”

“Rex. You don’t need to apologize. It’s okay.” You didn’t entirely mean that, but it’s what he needed to hear. It took a lot to admit what he did, and you knew it.

Rex sniffed a laugh. “It’s really not okay, but, thanks.”

You sighed. Rex’s hand, which was now resting on the table, was shaking ever so slightly. Once you took the first step, it was easy. You shuffled over to Rex’s hand and placed your own on his finger. Rex flinched and looked down in surprise. Slowly, his hand stopped shaking.

“You’re not the first clone I’ve ever met, either. I’ve lost a lot of people, and’ve had a lot of people lose me. It’s... normal. I’ve never really had a place to call home. Can’t even remember how I got to Lothal.” You took a breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is... your friend was really, really lucky to have you. It’s rare for borrowers to find people to care about us. That kind of friendship, no matter how short, is worth a lifetime of happiness.”

You felt a spray of water hit your arm, and you looked up. Rex had let a tear fall.

“Thanks, kid. That... really means a lot.”

Rex forced a smile down to you, but there was a hint of relief to it. You beamed back up. He kept staring. You laughed nervously.

“What?”

Rex shook his head. “Nothing. I-it’s nothing.”

“Hey, if you just told me that, you can tell me anything,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Rex just grimaced. “Just say it. It’s okay. I promise.”

“Well...” Rex wiped his eyes. “Hera was telling me they were trying to find a home for you.”

You nodded curiously. “Yeah. The Ghost crew has been really nice to me, but I can’t be in the middle of all this action. Not again. We’re just trying to find a nice, quiet planet.”

“I... don’t want to impose. And you can say no. But me and a couple of old friends have retrofitted an old AT-TE on Seelos, way out in the Outer Rim. That’s where I was before Ahsoka asked me to help out the crew here. But I’m too old for all this action... I’ll help where I can, but--”

“--are you asking me to go back with you?”

Rex’s face flushed red. “Y-yeah. That’s exactly what I’m asking. It’s real remote. You’d be safe.”

Still leaning against Rex’s hand, you looked down at your shoes as you thought over his proposal. You really liked the Ghost crew. They were nothing but kind to you, barely ever making you feel like you were small. But even though it had only been a couple weeks, it felt like there was no safe world in the galaxy, and definitely no world the Ghost could travel to without being followed.

And as weird as it was, there was something endearing about Rex. He was different than any clone you had ever met. They weren’t exactly known for their emotional vulnerability, but Rex had shared with you a story you suspect he hadn’t told to anyone in decades. That counted for something. A lot of somethings, actually.

“Yeah.”

Rex paused for a moment and blinked. “What?”

“I’m taking you up on your offer,” you smiled. “I’ll go to Seelos with you.”

“You... you’re serious?”

You nodded with a small smirk. “I’m done running and hiding. I just... want to relax.”

“I’m serious, you don’t have to say yes--”

“--I am serious! I said yes! So don’t make me change my mind.”

For the first time in a while, Rex let out a genuine laugh. “Okay, okay.”

You only got a moment to bask in this newfound feeling of content when Sabine came running into the room.

“Rex, we’re leaving! Kanan and Ezra are waiting in the Phantom!”

“Be right there,” he called out. Sabine left without even noticing you were there.

Rex gently shook you off his hand and flipped it over, allowing you to situate yourself in his palm. “You want me to bring you back to Hera?”

You thought for a moment. “Why don’t I tag along with you this time? Someone needs to keep the Phantom warm while you’re away.”

Rex didn’t say anything, but found himself grinning as he stood up, grabbed his helmet and made his way to the shuttle. This was a good start.

#i realize that this isnt even exactly what the ask was saying #but this is where my mind went lol #i have so much love for old man rex it's not even fair #he deserves to relax!#i know rebels is a love it or hate it kinda thing but it has some of the best g/t potential #will jump on the opportunity to capitalize on it #star wars g/t #g/t #obwrites

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dettiot · 4 years

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for the prompts: ahsoka walking in on anakin and padmé kissing and then they all freak out

If anyone else walked in like Ahsoka had, they’d probably wonder why she was standing as still as a statute.

But if they saw Skyguy kissing Senator Amidala, they might freeze up, too. Especially if it was Master Obi-Wan.

Worst of all, they were still kissing! Anakin hadn’t even noticed someone had walked in!

Ahsoka wasn’t sure what to do, since she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with walking in on people kissing, much less her master kissing someone. But then, Anakin’s eyebrows drew together and he looked around without stopping the kiss.

When he saw her, finally, finally, finally, he stopped. He yanked himself back from Senator Amidala, whose lips were still pursed, and yelped, “Snips!”

“What are you doing?!?” Ahsoka said, glaring at him.

Her master lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, if you don’t know . . .”

“Ani, really,” the Senator said, stepping forward. “Ahsoka, I know this must be a surprise--”

“A surprise is having lightsaber training with Master Yoda or getting a shuura fruit gumball,” Ahsoka interrupted. “Not--not seeing the two of you doing--that!”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said, walking over and laying a hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re confused, but . . . please, can you keep this to yourself? Until I can explain everything to you?”

Biting her lip, Ahsoka looked back and forth between Anakin and the Senator. They were both hiding their nerves, but she knew they were nervous. Worried.

Was it because they knew they were doing something wrong? Although the Jedi Code only talked about forbidding attachments--you could kiss someone without forming an attachment, couldn’t you?

But if word got out about Anakin kissing Padme . . . people would think he cared about her. Separatists would think he cared about her and try to harm her. And Padme didn’t need that--she already had the Separatists gunning for her all the time.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I won’t tell anyone. But you have to explain all of this to me.”

“I will,” Anakin said, looking at her and smiling.

XXX

It was funny, the memories that came back to you. Because one day, years and years later, Ahsoka walked into the cockpit of the Ghost to see Kanan and Hera kissing. And she was catapulted back to that day on the Resolute, watching Anakin kiss Padme.

And all she could think, as Kanan’s hair loosened from its ponytail and Hera’s skin went from green to pale, was that Anakin had never given her that explanation.

He had never explained a lot of things.

Without a word, Ahsoka turned and walked out of the cockpit.

#ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars #Anonymous

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whatapunk · 4 years

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Sooo... I finally decided to start my Kanan/ex-girlfriend fic that I've been writing in my head for weeks. I haven't written fanfiction (or anything fun) in a very long time so this took some real motivation (and unconditional love for Kanan/Kanera).

It is set at the very beginning of Season 2, when the Spectres have joined Phoenix Crew and Kanan is looking for anything to distract him from the formalities of military life. "Anything" including his ex-girlfriend Rhia Denley, current member of Phoenix Crew. This fic will reflect the battle between my love for Kanera and my need to write about Kanan’s love life in general in the only way I see fitting: through a love triangle!

This is just a taste for the first bit, but I hope to keep going!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 1688

Chapter 1

Everywhere people walked, trotted, and ran into and out of Kanan’s line of vision. They criss-crossed in every single direction, yet everyone managed to stay out of each other’s way for the most part. It was suffocating, Kanan thought. So many people, faces, ranks and titles. He’d only been working aboard the Liberator for a few standard weeks (long enough, in his opinion), but he’d already given up on trying to remember the ranking system, let alone the specific rank of each rebel. He’d taken to walking behind Hera any time they were aboard the vessel, and when she saluted someone, he, begrudgingly, did the same. Otherwise, he stayed aboard Ghost as often as he could.

Hera was in front of him now, and the kids- Zeb, Sabine, and Ezra- followed close by. Kanan felt bad; she’d been explaining what she wanted to do differently the next time they were on a similar “cargo-thieving” mission as the one they’d just returned from, and he’d all but started ignoring her. It was entirely his fault, he felt. He couldn’t hear himself think over all of the people in the bay and the intercom that seemed to always be seeking out someone.

Hera could sense that Kanan wasn’t really paying attention, but she was mostly talking to herself right now. She always felt better when she could explain things out loud, even if it was only to herself.

“Well I thought the mission went pretty well,” Ezra spoke up, shaking Hera out of her thoughts. Turns out one of them was listening.

“It’s not that it didn’t go well, Ezra,” Hera added, gently. “I’m just saying there’s always room for improvement.”

Several droids, each carrying a large crate, crossed in front of the Spectres, forcing Hera to stop abruptly and Kanan, who was so focused on watching everything else, bumped into her.

“This place is a madhouse. Why do we need to talk to Sato? Didn’t he just watch everything that just happened? Wasn’t he there?” Kanan said, letting more frustration than was warranted slip out. He frowned and Hera turned and matched the look.

“Kanan, it’s standard protocol to debrief with our commanding officer after…”

Kanan checked out at “protocol.” It seemed like these kinds of things were all Hera talked about these days. He hadn’t felt so restricted in years, nor had he felt like he had to compete for Hera’s attention (more than normal) in years. She was still talking when something caught Kanan’s eye and pulled his gaze and his feet to an abrupt stop.

A glimpse of red, he thought, the kind of which he hadn’t seen in years. Seven of them, to be exact.

A glimpse was all it was though. His eyes searched for where it had come from, but there were easily a hundred personnel in any given direction. Five stacks of crates rose and floated by, presumably carried by five people eclipsed on the other side of them. They formed a wall as they passed that effectively obstructed his view of the crowd of people in which he thought he spotted the red hair.

“Kanan?” Hera touched his arm, and his attention returned to her.

“What are you doing?” He glanced back over the sea of people, not ready to admit he hadn’t seen anything.

“I thought I saw....” Kanan trailed off, searching… searching…

“Who do you know in Phoenix Cell?” Hera asked, disbelief and a joking edge surrounding her words. That got Kanan to look at her, his usual smirk back on his face. Hera thought briefly how she hadn’t seen such a face lately, and then the thought was passed up by a million others.

“No one, that I know of,” he said, giving Hera a smile and walking back over to the others who waited, confused. Just as he was ready to get his mind back on the Spectres and whatever mundane, soul-crushing aspect of Phoenix Cell awaited him, there it was again- a flash of the most unique and memorable shade of red Kanan had ever seen. Only this time it wasn’t just a flash, and it was connected to the head and body of one of the people who had just set down one of the large stacks of crates. Kanan stared at the woman, mouth starting to fall open, and almost let her return to the crowd, lost, before he forced a single word onto his tongue.

“Rhia?!” *** Rhia Denley grunted as her arms lifted a crate over her head and locked it into the stack that rose before her. Bashi said something next to her that still wasn’t loud enough for her to hear it (she’d been telling him to speak up since she reported this morning).

“What, Bashi?” she snapped, and the Mythrol pursed his blue lips, hearing the edge in her voice.

“I was saying,” Bashi started, then remembered to amplify his voice even more, “all of the carrier droids have been checked out, so I could only get three of them. So you and I just need to move these two stacks to the drop zone on the other side of the bay where someone else’s droids will see them and grab them.” Rhia smiled, feeling guilty for snapping and also appreciative that he’d finally spoken loud enough for her to hear him.

“Gotcha. Sorry, Bash, you know this place is an echo chamber. I’m already old and hard of hearing,” she joked, giving him a punch in the arm. He smiled and nodded as he typed in directions on the last carrier droid next to them. The droid revved and began lifting the stack; only, it’s motor whined and sputtered, nearly collapsing and bringing the stack of crates tumbling. Before either Rhia or Bashi could react, the droid’s engines fully kicked in and its back thruster let out a gust of warm exhaust that sent a few bits of Rhia’s pinned-back hair flailing. She frowned, pushed the pieces behind her ears, and squatted, ready to lift her stack.

“Don’t forget,” she started, glancing sideways at Bashi who had started to bend forward to grab his crates, “lift with your knees.” She snapped upright, her stack in her arms and her legs feeling underprepared. She would have grabbed an anti-grav platform if she’d known she’d be in charge of the heavy-lifting. Bashi’s recent words floated through her mind at that thought; if droids were in short supply, everything else useful probably was too.

Rhia couldn’t really see where she was going but she was able to sneak her head out from the side of her stack and kept up with the droid in front of her. When she saw the yellow-outlined square appear under her feet, signalling a drop zone, she brought her stack to the floor again. Her legs felt shaky, reminding her she really should adhere to the volunteer fitness regimes more. She stood up and saw Bashi’s shaky stack show up right next to hers. Clearly, the Mythrol had struggled with the weight as well.

“Bashi, I think you and I had better hit the running machine more if the Rebellion gets any bigger.” He looked at her, confused. “There won’t be any droids left to save our legs,” she added, smiling. Bashi grinned, letting a quiet chuckle out, and began walking back into the crowd in the main part of the bay. Rhia began to follow when someone unfamiliar called her name, just her first name, and she looked back over her shoulder.

“Rhia?!”

There stood a man with a small beard and ponytail, wearing green shoulder armor that extended down his right arm. He was several years older than the last time she had seen him, to be sure, but there was no doubt- the man was Kanan Jarrus.

“Kanan?” Rhia asked, just as stunned as he had been. Around them, organized chaos continued, monotonous calls came steadily over the intercom, and the group of rebels around Kanan all watched intently. However, the two of them only continued to stare. Finally, Rhia spoke first.

“You’re with Phoenix Crew?” she asked, clearly in some sort of disbelief.

“Well… uh…” Kanan drew his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess… We’re new,” he added, gesturing to the Spectres. Rhia’s eyes went to them as he introduced them.

“This is Zeb, Ezra, Sabine, and Hera my- uh, my pilot,” he stammered when he got to Hera, and Rhia could instantly tell why.

Hera frowned ever so slightly and gave Kanan a look out of the corner of her eye at the word “pilot.” Kanan was doing the stammering thing he did when he was pretending to know what he was doing. Clearly, he knew this woman and clearly she was having an affect on him. She didn’t want to be jealous and tried to remind herself that the only reason Kanan had stumbled over what to refer to her as was because of the boundaries surrounding their relationship- boundaries she’d been the one to set. Still, the sight and sound of him now reminded her of the moment they’d met for the first time, back on Gorse all those years ago, and, frankly, she didn’t like it.

“It’s good to meet you,” Rhia said, politely, nodding to the crew. She waited for Kanan (or anyone, really) to speak again, but they stood together in more silence that was quickly becoming awkward. Rhia was trying to think of a quick way to end the encounter when a familiar blue face popped out of the crowd behind Kanan and the others.

“Captain Denley!” Bashi called, a datapad aloft in his hands. Rhia silently thanked him with her eyes for the rescue.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me,” she said, giving a final nod and beginning to walk past them. On her way she paused and placed a soft hand on Kanan’s shoulder. She spoke quietly but not so quiet that it seemed intimate.

“We should catch up,” she said, smiling. And with that she continued past and back into the throng of the bustling service bay.

#idk about it but I'm just so happy I sat down and started #woof #star wars rebels #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #rebels fanfiction #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #zeb orrelios #sabine wren #ezra bridger #kanera #endings

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lifblogs · 3 years

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Angstpril 2021: Day 20 - Silent Treatment

Without Me

read on ao3 648 words rebels, kanan jarrus/hera syndulla, blindness, injury, trauma, isolation, angst

“Kanan. Kanan.”

Kanan ignored Hera’s oh-so-familiar voice, and pointedly didn’t turn his head in her direction.

He was counting his breaths, trying to release feelings into the Force, to sense it around him. But just like one of his senses, it was as if it was gone. He could still feel it, but it was like a stranger to him now, like everything was.

He’d sequestered himself from the crew after being blinded by Maul, and though they didn’t treat him differently, only helped him when he expressly requested it of them, he couldn’t stand to be around them. Couldn’t stand to not see the people he cared about so much. Couldn’t stand to feel the pain in his eyes and know what he’d known was over.

To know he could no longer look at Hera and see the light green of her skin, the white tattoos on her lekku that she’d let him caress late into the night, the vivid sea-foam green of her eyes that were blue in certain lighting.

He couldn’t see Ezra, the boy he’d taken in. Or see Sabine and all her artwork. Couldn’t see Zeb or Chopper. Or the Ghost, his home.

Now there was just a vast emptiness, and he wanted it filled with solitude and silence. Why couldn’t they understand that?

“Kanan, you have to talk to me sometime,” Hera pressed.

He pursed his lips, and purposefully deepened his breathing.

But the Force wasn’t on his mind anymore. It wasn’t truly with him.

Instead there was the panic he’d felt during the fight on Malachor, the bite of betrayal he’d felt from Ezra, and now the unfamiliarity of everything around him.

And pain. Burning pain that he sometimes thought he’d gone insane from.

“Caleb.”

The stiffness of his spine relaxed at that, and he almost gave in right then and there.

But why should he talk to her? It wasn’t as if she was going to understand. Besides, what use was he to the rebellion now? And Hera had her own problems. To burden her with more… No, he couldn’t do it.

Hera’s boots grated against the dry ground as she approached him. Part of Kanan wanted to retreat, but with Hera, he wasn’t sure he knew how. Not truly.

Her breaths were rough, and when he did dare to touch the Force around her, it was swirling with trepidation. Finally, she reached out her hand and took hold of his right one.

“Hey, I know you’re in there,” she said, settling down next to him. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, or what this is even like. I… I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but when you’re ready, we’re here for you. All of us. And between you and me, I can’t wait for you to start annoying me again, love. I miss your bantering.

“But it’s been a month. Just… just let me know my Kanan is in there.”

Wrapping cold around himself, Kanan removed his hand from her touch.

“Fine!” she snapped, suddenly getting to her feet. “Treat me like that if you want, but I hope you remember Ezra—you know, the boy you chose to train—needs you.”

She left, and Kanan could breathe easier, even as hurt welled around him, nearly enough to drown him.

It seemed like they all needed him, and he couldn’t even be there for himself. If he couldn’t help himself then how…? What good was he, to any of them?

He missed them, but everything was so different. He hated it.

Even now he wanted to follow Hera, apologize, hold her like he used to, but… No, it would be easier not to.

Kanan had gotten through hurt once before while all alone. He would do it again. It wasn’t his job to drag the others down.

They’ll see, he thought. They’re better without me.

#angstpril2021 #fic #day 20 #silent treatment #tw: trauma #tw: injury #star wars #rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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lightwanders · 4 years

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Interrogation Starters // ACCEPTING ↳ @padawanfell said: “ What aren’t you telling me? ”

"𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆." Her voice rang with a note of finality, eyes too busy raking the darkness between the stars to glance back at Cal. A fellow Jedi. A fellow survivor. One of the few people, perhaps, who'd understand the weight of this betrayal — yet the confession stuck in her throat, held hostage by the pursing of her lips.

It was no secret the Inquisitorious filled its ranks with scraps of the Jedi Order. Some came to them willingly; others were twisted by the dark side until they turned against everything they once stood for. Whatever their origin, they were nothing more than tools of the Empire now. She was more the fool for thinking their Master would be any different.

He was out there, somewhere. A mere shadow of the man she knew. Even now, Ahsoka, wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, seal her heart against the frayed tether that stretched between them for just a moment: a thin, fragile thing, existing for the barest heartbeat, but it was enough. 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚃𝙾𝙾 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷.

She exhaled a deep breath through her nose.

"It doesn't change what we have to do. Kanan and Ezra will never be able to operate unless we take care of the Inquisitors...and their Master."

#padawanfell #* V. A NEW DAWN; A NEW DAY / REBELS.

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greensword101 · 5 years

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Ezra had gotten used to sleeping by himself at night ever since his parents were taken away. Getting a room on Ghost with Kanan as his roommate began to challenge that mindset.

Obviously, the two bonded quickly after that fated first day. And Kanan definitely decided that if Ezra needed a dad, he was going to be one to the kid.

Ezra would typically wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream and he had learned early on not to scream, or else it would draw attention. So the first time this happens on Ghost, Kanan wakes up to little Ezra silently thrashing in his sleep and his lips pursed shut.

He thought once the kid was woken up and assured it was just a dream, it would be the end of it. Not even half an hour later and Ezra is battling another nightmare. Quickly seeing a pattern, Kanan decides “Okay, maybe I should make sure he’s okay.” and brings Ezra into his cot without much thought. Then he gets an idea in his head to clear Ezra’s mind using the Force while he’s sleeping so the nightmares won’t appear again.

When Ezra wakes up in the morning, he’s confused as to why he’s in Kanan’s cot and why does he feel well-rested and why is Kanan hugging him like a stuffed animal? Kanan wakes up and it’s a bit awkward for both of them. Kanan, because he is new to the parenting thing and because he had never once had someone hold him like that before. And Ezra, because he wasn’t expecting anyone to give him comfort so quickly.

They don’t talk about it for the rest of the day and they both expect to not have another experience like the night before. This time, its Kanan that has the nightmare. Ezra wakes up to hearing his teacher mumble “No! Don’t shoot! Leave her alone!” It’s different for Ezra because Kanan is bigger and he isn’t entirely certain that trying to wake Kanan up will result in him getting accidentally hit in a half-dazed panic.

But Ezra just climbs into the cot and hugs Kanan as best as he can, not letting go despite how much the man was thrashing in his sleep saying “Kanan, wake up! It’s just a bad dream!”

Kanan wakes up eventually and he looks so shaken from reliving his experience of Order 66 that he can’t speak. He doesn’t register Ezra hugging him until he almost falls back asleep. Then he realizes that there is an extra weight on his chest. He’s ready to attack when Ezra pipes up.

“It’s me!”

“...kid?!”

“Yeah...”

“Sorry...” Kanan breathes deeply, horrified that he was ready to attack his new Padawan in a moment of terror.

“It was a bad dream,” Ezra repeated the same words spoken to him the previous night.

Kanan nods weakly.

“I’m sorry...”

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

Kanan is stunned by the question. He wouldn’t have let Hera offer that up, it would make things even more muddled between them. But Ezra is just a kid and someone who is also used to being haunted in the night by bad memories.

Without a second thought, Kanan pulls the blanket over them both and tries to drift off to sleep. When that doesn’t work, Ezra’s hand plants itself on Kanan’s face.

“What are you doing?” Kanan sighed.

“Trying ta do that thing you did last night,” Ezra said innocently, “It took the bad thoughts away.”

“I...I used the Force to clear your mind. I don’t think you’re ready for that trick.”

“Well, you could tell me how you did it and I could try it.”

And so, Kanan ends up sitting on the cot while Ezra puts both his hands on his master’s head, concentrating like he was taught and following Kanan’s instructions as best as he could. If he felt that Ezra was going to do more harm than good, Kanan stops him and rewords his directions more clearly.

It’s given up as a lesson for another time, but Kanan still appreciates the effort. Ezra doesn’t go back to his cot and stays the night in Kanan’s bed again, this time to help the man sleep.

Over time, it becomes sort of a ritual for them to help the other fight off nightmares. Ezra still hasn’t gotten the hang of it, but what Kanan really needs at the moment is the same protective comfort he offers Ezra. The other crew members are aware of the two having sleeping troubles, but don’t mention it to Ezra or Kanan. The bags under Kanan’s eyes have faded significantly and Ezra isn’t so quick to scamper at sudden sounds anymore.

Kanan never mentions it, but Ezra has filled the role of Padawan rather well in spite of everything. A Padawan protects their Master and while Kanan is willing to fight the universe to keep his son safe, he’s touched to know that Ezra is willing to defend him from his dreams as well.

#baby ezra #kanan jarrus #space family #au #star wars rebels #fluff and feels

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lonelypond · 5 years

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Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 10

Love Live/Love Live Sunshine, NozoEli, NicoMaki, KanaMari, 2.2K, 10/?

Summary: Eli finally gets a minute to talk to a cute girl. And Kanan finds her dinner interupted.

Nozomi In The House

The silence was too uncomfortable for Eli, the driver wasn’t going to talk, and Nozomi had almost started to say something several times, but instead pursed her lips and went back to staring out the window. IT WAS GOING TO DRIVE ELI MAD. But she didn’t want to talk about the crying or Nico or…

Ah, they did have two more people in common now. “How did you meet Kanan and Mari? Did one of them wander into your shop?”

Nozomi snorted and tapped the window of the luxury sedan, “I don’t think Mari’s ever set foot in that neighborhood. The property values are too low.”

Eli didn’t know how to process that response and just sighed, feeling her shoulders sag.

“I’m sorry, Eli. That was a serious question and I didn’t give you a serious answer.” Nozomi turned away from the window, her smile gentle, “That friend Kanan mentioned, Yoshiko…”

Eli nodded, now wary, but Nozomi continued brightly, “is married to my dear friend Hanamaru who owns a lovely little quirky bookstore on a very ritzy street it really has no business being on. But there it remains.” Nozomi chuckled, “Everything Yoshiko touches is a little like that. Very thoroughly unapologetic of itself and slightly out of place.”

Eli relaxed when she realized Nozomi wasn’t going to push Kanan’s ‘meet my friend’ suggestion on her. “That sounds refreshing. Almost everyone I meet is trying to fit in a particular slot somewhere for some role. I imagine there’s charm in a place unique like that.”

Nozomi’s eyebrows shot up in amusement, “I find it comforting myself. I’ve been having tea there a lot recently, while I was wondering if my phone still worked.”

“Huh?” Eli’s face wrinkled in confusion, “Is it a repair shop?”

“I was waiting for someone to text me.” Nozomi nudged Eli’s knee, noticing how Eli scooted away.

“Who?” It was a mumble, a completely lacking in confidence mumble, completely incapable of selling the suggestion that Eli didn’t know EXACTLY what Nozomi was talking about.

Nozomi just stared until Eli finished glancing everywhere but at her. Nozomi could see guilt wash through blue eyes as Eli acknowledged her lack of outreach, “Oh. Me.” Eli bopped her head, “Sorry. It’s been so many long days. And I just…” Eli had no words for what was happening. Or what she was feeling. Or how desperately she wanted to just be home on her couch, safe, not haunted with worries of the nights she couldn’t remember.

As Eli held her gaze, Nozomi decided it didn’t matter that Eli hadn’t texted her. What did matter was that some of the sadness that weighted Eli’s expression was lifted and that Nozomi found out if there was anything she could do.

“Eli?”

“Yes?” Eli was blinking, trying not to cry, with nowhere to go until the car stopped.

Nozomi just rushed right in, her hand nearly touching Eli’s. “Are you sick? Can I help? Did you get hurt at rehearsal?”

Eli stiffened, her shoulders raising, her chest closing, suddenly crunching in on herself, “No. Rehearsals are fine...dancing is…” A turn to the window, pulling her hand back, leaning into her elbow, eyes on the passing view, “dancing is the only thing that’s really working about me now.”

Eli was talking, reluctantly, but talking. Nozomi decided to press, “What isn’t working? Nico? I know you said you had roommate trouble.”

Eli’s voice sounded thick, “I’m the roommate trouble.”

Nozomi sat still as the car headed toward Silver Lakes and Eli continud, “Nico’s pretty amazing. I wouldn’t be in LA without her, she just...gets me.” Eli smiled wistfully, and Nozomi was suddenly caught by this breathing, touchable portrait of noble sadness, “People don’t do friends enough anymore. There’s something solid about Nico. We were never going to date, but...:” Eli looked straight at Nozomi, “we just get along, you know, really well. It’s fun.”

Nozomi nodded, glad that Eli trusted her enough to talk about some of the details of her life with Nico.

“And now there’s this DJ,” Eli frowned, “And I think Nico really likes her but I don’t and I don’t because I don’t know how it’ll change everything. And right now…” Nozomi could see tears as Eli tilted her head back to rest on the seat, “everything’s just too extra crazy…” Eli’s voice was the thinnest of whispers, ‘because I’m changing. Maybe I should leave...maybe that’d be better.”

“Where would you go?” Nozomi wondered. She knew so little about Eli.

“Home?”

Nozomi wasn’t sure if the question in Eli’s voice meant the home she’d grown up in or one she hadn’t found yet. Or maybe that was Nozomi’s own struggle shadowing the conversation. LA had been a good pause for a traveller, but Nozomi wasn’t certain that there was anywhere she could put roots down.

Nozomi could only offer a cryptic response. She had spent too much time changing places to really believe she might be happy in a more settled existence. “Home is such an individual craving.”

“Craving…” Eli chuckled, “Maybe it’s worse because I’ve been reminded of my grandmother recently. Russian spices in the house again. Nico hates it.” Eli hesitated, then continued, her voice gaining strength, her eyes clearing, “Grandmother would be proud I’m working on a solo show; she was the prima ballerina in her company. So much grace, you even can see it in the lines when she posed for still shots. Every gesture is another key to understanding emotion.” Eli fluttered her hand, sweeping it through the space in front of them, “I aspire to that level of mastery.”

“I’d love to see the photos sometime.” Nozomi wondered if child Eli was in some of them and if her eyes would be as shadowed.

“Sure. When we get to the apartment. Nico’s probably in the middle of cooking six things although she’ll claim she just wants salad. When she stress cooks and makes a curry casserole it’s a bit of fusion heaven.”

“I will take you up on that.”

Eli turned to Nozomi, mischief bright, “It’s a date then. Nico will be so annoyed when I have one and she doesn’t.”

“Are you going for friend or prankster?” Nozomi couldn’t help laughing as Eli bounced slightly in her seat.

“Both.” Eli leaned forward, amusement now the mood in the car, “Retaliating brings Nico unhealthy amounts of joy.”

This was obviously a friendship with its own rules. Good for Eli. Nozomi looked forward to the sparring match she was being invited to.

###

“So Yoshiko just dropped this poor girl from the sky? On her parents?” Mari left out the names. As much as she enjoyed harassing Maki Nishikino, Mari also understood fame and fortune attracted too many random ears.

Kanan tapped her water glass with her knife, “Well, in the pool. They were alone in a cabana, You and I were having a quick meeting at the front of the pool. And then everybody jumped in, one after the other…”

Mari giggled, playing with her champagne flute, “Nico looked like an undersized chihuahua rescued from a flood when she came back to our place.”

“It was worse for You. She was wearing that raggedy old pair of shorts she keeps for laundry and PMS days and drip dried in the ambulance.”

Mari froze, “You sent You to save the timeline in those awful shorts.”

Kanan shrugged, “She’ll be fine.”

“How hot is the time traveller?” Mari had switched to hotel magnate meeting planning mode, her voice crisp and resonant.

Kanan glanced around the room, as Mari’s voice was now carrying, a concern considering the publicness of their location and the topic, but everyone else was focused on their own meals and conversations. Eavesdroppers would probably just guess that they were talking about a movie, anyway. This was LA, after all.

“Kanan? Answer my question.” Mari prompted.

Kanan shrugged, “She was reasonably pretty, I guess. Very sharp clothes, looked like stuff you might wear so probably designer.”

“OH MY GOD!” Mari got to her feet, shoving the table at Kanan, who caught it before it bounced off her abs while glaring at her drama queen of a wife.

“Sit down, Mari.”

“No, we are going to bring that poor girl some decent clothes. Are they still at the hospital?”

“Maki took them home.” Kanan sat down, continuing to cut her farmed artic char into chunks

Mari clucked her tongue and shook her head at her wife, “Cazzatta! Such a bad friend. We are going to go get You some very expensive designer cute things to make up for it.”

“Mari, we can’t just invade Maki’s home and can’t we just pick up something from You’s apartment.”

Mari, having finished flailing her hands around like weapons, tapped Kanan on her shoulder, “1. Watch me and 2. No. Banzai!”

“Maaaaaari.” But by the time Kanan had finished her desperate plea, Mari had blown a kiss at the maitre d’ in lieu of paying the check and made it nearly to the parking lot.

###

Nico always missed her siblings, but on days when she got into stress cooking mode, it had always been nice to have growing teenagers to feed. Now, there was just Nico, two casseroles, one pan of brownies, one loaf of apricot quick bread, biscuit mix rising for breakfast, and a three layer chocolate cake waiting to be iced with the orange buttercream Nico was whipping into celestial smoothness with pure muscle. Maybe she should call Maki and take over some food. Nico glanced outside, nearly dark already, surely Eli was still okay, but it would be reassuring to actually see her here, blonde hair intact in a ponytail not breaking out into full body fluffiness.

A key at the door. “This is such a nice little place, Eli. In a quiet neighborhood it looks like.”

Nico froze at the not Eli voice.

Eli sounded in a good mood. “And you can sit outside at the back. We’ve got some plants out there. It’s a great place to stretch. Or read. Nico always takes her scripts out there, with a hat and sunscreen, of course,”

Eli and Nozomi stepped inside, Eli closing the door behind her. She looked quickly to Nico to read her best friend’s reaction to inviting someone else into their space. Nico put on her best smile, “Nico’s complexion secrets are so good they make K-pop stars jealous. You’re just in time, Nico was about to call a delivery driver to overnight some food to her teenage brother.”

Nozomi approached the bar where the food overflow had reached, taking in the details of the kitchen and front room, “This smells delicious, Nico. Eli was telling me how good your cooking was on the way here so thank you for inviting me to share. I’m glad we decided not to stop and pick up takeout.”

“Nico is too; food shouldn't be wasted...your choices are Eli’s favorite Nico’s secret recipe sausage and 3 bean curry casserole or a more traditional baked pasta, but with Nico’s mama’s special flair.”

“Ingredients also secret?” Nozomi inquired.

“Of course, Nico never breaks a confidence.” Nico’s eyes went to Eli, whose blue eyes dimmed with recent memories. “Hey, Eli, how’s your headache? Feel like eating?” Nico pulled plates out of the cabinet, handing one to Nozomi, while they both watched Eli warily.

Eli rubbed the back of her neck, “I think it’s going to be okay, Nico. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“We all do.” Nico sighed.

Nozomi was piling pasta and creamy, stringy cheese on her plate, green eyes gleaming, “So want to watch a movie and do your podcast? Isn’t this when you usually record? I’m fascinated by how unrehearsed your conversations seem.” Nozomi then curled up in the comfy chair, her half smile promising mischief and her eyes catching every twitch of her audience.

Nico and Eli both gaped at their guest. With Eli’s wolf side making its surprise appearance last night, they’d completely forgotten their Sunday routine.

“Hell.” Nico muttered.

Eli started spooning casserole onto her plate. “Can’t disappoint our fans, Nico.”

“Nico never disappoints anyone.” Nico huffed, starting to ice the cake to cover her disgruntlement, “Guess it’s your week to pick the movie.”

“Ooohh,” Nozomi bounced, quickly swallowing her mouthful of pasta, “Let me, let me.”

Eli watched Nico’s eyebrow twitch like a sound level meter at a rock concert and bit back a laugh. Yesterday was getting further away with every minute of silliness.

“Romance or Comedy?” Nozomi trilled.

“Murder.” Nico hissed.

“What did you say, Nico, I didn’t quite catch that.” Nozomi asked innocently, Eli doubled over with laughter,

“Crime thriller.” Nico’s teeth were clenched.

Eli took her plate the couch. This was going to be even more entertaining than a normal Nico evening.

A/N: Happy Mischief Night. Or Halloween. No tricks, just another chapter.

#Moonlight Becomes You #Apocalypse Midnight Dance #NozoEli #werewolf #Tojo Nozomi #Ayase Eli #KanaMari #Matsuura Kanan #Ohara Mari #NicoMaki #Yazawa Nico #Nishikino Maki #LA #etc

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aeonian-scribbles · 6 years

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Memory Lost Chapter 3

In the time it had taken to explore everything Kilerth had to offer, which wasn't much, weariness had sunk into Satha’s bones. Her arm was still bruised from their last planet hop, and her feet ached from walking for so long. Beside her, PEB of course felt no such irritations, and she envied his bot endurance. Still, their exploration had been a semi-success.

Kilerth, for all its seeming ability to use magic, was a simple town. Everything seemed to be run without magic, electricity serving as its primary power source. All of the locals seemed to be the same species as well. Odd, but other planets were like that too. Humans, PEB had classified them as. Satha had been vaguely interested in them- Iowik had none of them- but she had barely learned anything past the fact that they were also bipedal creatures as well before growing bored with PEB’s facts.

It wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that these people had never met anyone not from their planet, never mind jumpers or the Guard. The nuårås had been used as a sign of sorts for Kilerth’s single park, which explained the unexpected entrance. The strange blue object had been a part of one their recreational games. However, they seemed to be the only travelers to arrived through it, as far as the town was concerned. So they should be relatively safe, for a few days at least.

As the two of them walked back to the house they’d be staying in, one of the small shop windows caught her attention. It held more color than the other buildings, made of dark blue bricks compared to the white and grey of the others. Stripes of white created intricate designs along each wall, reminding Satha of some of the plainer houses back on Iowik. Bold blue letters proclaimed Reliquary and her hand wrapped around PEB’s metal one as she dragged him inside. Despite herself, Satha couldn’t help the gasp of awe that left her as she walked into the small store.

The first thing she registered was the smell of incense, lavender and something that reminded her of the Keer berries at home with its sweet scent. The store was dimly lit, ambient music filling the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed beyond their capacity. But what really caught her attention was the ceiling. It was dark, rich purple bleeding into dark blue that led to black. It was peppered with tiny lights that swirled into abstract designs—constellations.

Satha stared at them in fascination. They looked like the constellations back home. Her eyes trailed across a particular section of ceiling, where the tiny dots curved into a spiral. If she twisted her head at the right angle, it turned into the 100 galaxy nuårås. Beautiful. A wave of homesickness overtook her, and a for moment Satha was home as she closed her eyes. She could smell the sweetness of the Keer flowers outside her room, could feel the night air on her skin and hear the sounds of her father’s birds singing. Then she opened her eyes, back on Kilerth with disappointment so bitter she could almost taste it. Tearing her eyes away from the ceiling, Satha turned to look at PEB.

He was standing silently beside her, wearing that placid expression he always wore. The sight of it irritated Satha to no end, and any leftover nostalgia was gone. She looked up at the constellation again, and this time her eyes narrowed at the sight. Satha didn’t believe in coincidence, so what was a constellation from Iowik doing on Kilerth? A quick glance around the shop showed that there was still no one at the counter, and Satha’s lips pursed in irritation.

“Is anyone here?” she demanded, not bothering to lower her voice or the temper the irritation in it.

A young human walked up to the black marble counter, and Satha was unsure of whether it was a girl or boy. She had never been good at identifying species that didn’t live in Iowik.

“Who made that constellation?” she asked, and the human, a girl, Satha decided, stared at her. Satha couldn't read her expression, her face too flat and empty without any markings or long, pointed ears to convey emotion. After a moment the girl lifted her shoulders and said something in a language Satha couldn't identify. She frowned and turned toward PEB.

“Please tell me you understand whatever she's saying.” PEB could usually understand the people they came across, and Satha made a point to download new languages into him whenever possible.

PEB shook his head sharply. “I am unfamiliar with this language. However, it does sound familiar to-”

“Great, so you're no help then,” Satha cut him off.

“Hello.”

Satha turned to look at the girl, who faltered slightly at the attention but asked slowly, “You want help?”

Satha blinked. “Yes,” she said slowly and the girl nodded rapidly.

“You would like to buy objects?” she asked, and Satha shook her head.

Gesturing at the ceiling, Satha pointed to the 100 galaxy nuårås. The girl followed her gaze, looking at the constellation uninterestedly, and her lack of interest irritated Satha.

“It looks nice yes?” the girl asked slowly, as though the words were hard to say. Satha remembered how the man at the nuårås had spoken Sugin the way she spoke Verath, slowly, with pauses before each sentence so she knew she was speaking correctly. Although she spoke Verath better than most, able to imitate the guttural tones and strange inflections that most on Iowik couldn’t, Satha had never managed fluency in it. Her Verath could have been fluent had she bothered to listen to Kanan speak his native language, but Satha had never been interested in learning it. She wished she had now though; it would have made several jumps easier. Shaking her head, Satha turned back to the girl.

Slowly, so the girl could understand, she said, “No, it looks familiar. Who drew it?”

The girl blinked, and then said hesitantly, “Will you repeat what you said again please?”

A groan of irritation left Satha, but she repeated her question, and this time comprehension dawned on the girl’s face. She pointed upwards and Satha looked up but there was only the ceiling.

“Paqe drew them,” the girl informed her.

“Paqe?” Satha asked, turning the name over in her mouth.

The girl nodded. “He’s the owner of Reliquary.”

“Can we see him?” Satha asked impatiently.

“He’s sick. He can’t be here. Maybe tomorrow though,” she offered and Satha scowled.

“We’ll be here tomorrow then,” she said sharply. She turned, motioning for PEB to follow her out of the store. PEB went easily, following orders without complaint or question as he always did.

When they arrived back at the house they were staying in, they were greeted by Lali. It took a few moments of stiffly spoken Sugin for Satha to realize she wanted to show them to where they’d be sleeping. Despite her mistrust of these strangers, Satha couldn’t help the relief that filled her knowing she would be able to sleep indoors for once. She followed Lali to a small room, barely enough room for the four of them.

There were two cots in the back corners of the room, while the front corners simply had a small pile of blankets and a few worn pillows. Trinkets and the thin layer of dust over several surfaces showed that this room wasn’t used often.

Satha grimaced at the sight; of course they’d be stuck in a house barely big enough for one person, let alone guests. She kept her mouth shut though, nodding to Lali when the woman left. Vardes and Thallen weren’t back from wherever they were yet, and Satha took advantage of that by climbing into one of the cots. She had to curl into a ball to fit, the cot clearly meant for someone smaller than her, but Satha hadn’t expected anything different. Unlike before, sleep came easily to her, the thoughts that whirred constantly in her brain slowing to a quiet hum that lulled her to sleep.

#memory lost excerpt #memory lost #kat writes #satha

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prepare4trouble · 7 years

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Star Wars Rebels fanfic - Swirly

this is part of the “In One Piece” AU, which is the one that came from @swrrequests, where Ezra and Kanan were both blinded at Malachor. You can find the rest of the stories here on my AO3.

The series doesn’t run in any particular order though, so there’s no real need to read that stuff first if you don’t want to.

“So, is it finished?”

Once, Sabine never would have allowed Ezra, or anybody else, to be in the room with her while she was painting, especially not while she was painting something like this. It was different now, though, because Ezra couldn’t see the bare bones of the work, he couldn’t look at the first few brushstrokes or sprays from the can and come up with his own idea of what she was about to create. He didn’t get to see the mistakes she made and covered over, or the ones that somehow worked, and became incorporated into the work, changing it for the better.

She cast a critical eye over the thing she had painted, and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Probably not. I think it’s going to be one of those things I keep working at for a while.” Or one that she realized wasn’t going to work and painted over when she needed some more space. “Done for today though, I think. Why?”

She was still looking at the wall, but she could hear the shrug in his voice, like he was trying too hard to sound casual, disinterested. Like it didn’t really matter. It did, of course. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t ask. “So, what’s it look like?”

She had known the question was coming, of course; it always did. If it hadn’t been today, it would have been the next time the subject came up. She couldn’t help but wonder whether he genuinely wanted to know, or whether he asked just to try and keep a connection to something from before. He had always enjoyed looking at her artwork, pretending like he knew what he was talking about when they discussed it. She missed that, and she supposed he did too.

Along with everything else he had lost.

Kanan didn’t ask about her art, not really. Not often. And when he did, he tended to just accept whatever answer she gave. Not Ezra; he kept pushing, wanting more, like he was trying to generate a copy of the painting in his mind. In a way it was nice, but she hated it, because she knew that no matter how descriptive she tried to be, it would never be enough to make up for seeing it for himself.

Sometimes, she wondered how Ezra could stand it. If it was her — not that she would ever hold that thought in her head for long — if it was her, she didn’t think she would want to know; to think about it. It would hurt too much.

She pursed her lips and looked critically at the thing she had created. One hand was still clutching a spray can, the other rested on her hip as her gaze wandered over the painting, trying to pick out the important details. It was going to be impossible to describe.

It wasn’t the thing she had set out to paint, that was for sure.

For just a moment, she considered describing the thing she had been planning on painting instead. It wasn’t like Ezra was going to know the difference. She dismissed the idea instantly, it would have been unfair and dishonest.

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” Ezra told her.

“It’s not that,” she assured him. Only it was, in a way. She sighed, a sharp intake of air expelled hard through pursed lips. “It’s nothing special,” she said.

Behind her, she heard Ezra’s feet shuffle impatiently before he sat himself down at the desk she had constructed in the space that had once been a lower bunk. “They’re all special, Sabine,” he told her. “I remember that much.”

She frowned. That wasn’t true. Sometimes, a painting was just splashes of color, meaningless, a spur of the moment thing thrown onto a canvas or the wall. Other times she put her heart and soul into a piece. This was both, actually. It was also impossible to describe.

She was running out of space on her walls. There wasn’t a lot of room for anything new there anymore. From time to time, she would paint over something she didn’t like anymore or thought she could improve upon; cover the wall in the same gray as it had been originally to create a blank canvas or, when she could get hold of some, clean off the paint with solvent. She hadn’t done that today though; she hadn’t had the time to select a piece to be removed, or to paint over it with the many layers of paint it took to block out the bright colors of her previous works.

That was probably for the best; it had turned out she wasn’t in the mood for bright. If she had started, she might have found herself unable to stop until the images were all gone and there was nothing on her walls but a dull gray.

At least she wouldn't have had any trouble describing that to Ezra. He was intimately associated with how that would look.

“It’s just colors,” she told him.

“Which ones?” he asked.

She stared at the wall. “Blue, mostly; purple, a bit of red, but mostly blue. Different shades. And it’s kinda…”

It was mostly dark, almost black toward the middle with a deep, rich shade of blue on the outer edges. It looked like the sky at night, not long after the sun set; the blue remaining, but growing darker as the last hints of light sank further into the horizon and night descended.

As she had painted, allowing the work to expand to fill the space, it had begun to crowd out other paintings on the wall, even obliterating one completely; not one she cared much about, but by that stage she probably wouldn’t have noticed if it had been. It was as though the paint had taken over, the art compelling her to keep going, layering ever darker shades on top of the lighter until the middle was almost black with the lighter shades around the edges, like they were clinging on, trying not to fall.

Like the sun setting not into the horizon, but into a black hole.

“It’s kinda…?” Ezra prompted

She folded her arms, the paint can still clutched in her hand. “Swirly,” she said.

Sabine had never had a talent for words. It had never bothered her; it wasn’t like she was bad with words after all, she could use them just the right amount, and in more languages than most people. She had just never seen any kind of a need for poetry before. There was nothing wrong with poetry; her people had a long and proud tradition of it. She just chose to express her art visually.

“Swirly…” Ezra screwed up his face theatrically, like he was putting genuine effort into bringing an image to mind, then shook his head. Sabine looked back at the painting, trying to think of a better way to describe it. One that would make sense. “Wow, yeah,” Ezra continued. She wasn’t looking at him, but she could hear the ridiculous grin in his voice. “You’ve got such a talent for description, Sabine. Blue and swirly. Beautiful.”

Sabine made a frustrated sound. She stared deeply at the painting, her eye drawn to the centre, the hole into which the color was falling. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine never having seen it, tried to pick out the important parts, the things that meant something, and that would mean something to Ezra. She couldn't do it; it was too abstract. Any attempt to describe it would fail. It wasn’t a person that Ezra knew and could imagine like some of her paintings, or a landscape that he might have some kind of similar visual reference for. It wasn’t a thing.

“It’s blue around the edge, then gets darker in the middle,” she tried. “It is swirly. The colors swirl into the middle.”

“Like a spiral?”

“No, like… like water down a drain.”

Ezra frowned, his brow wrinkling in consternation as he tried to picture it. “So, is it water?”

“No, it’s…”

It wasn’t a thing. It was a feeling.

It was Ezra, and it was Kanan. It was light being stolen from the world, the day being replaced by the night. It was the helplessness she felt every time she looked at Ezra and he didn't — couldn’t — look back. It was the feeling of laughter and joy dying the way they had that day over a year ago. It was the idea that she might never seen Kanan smile again.

It was the blue that was still so clear and vibrant in Ezra’s eyes.

“It isn’t anything really.”

Ezra laughed, not exactly mockingly, but it was close enough. “So, it’s blue and swirly, and it isn’t anything. Wow, yeah. I can almost see it.”

She spun around to glare at him and found a wide grin spread across what she could see of his face with his far too long hair covering most of it. Honestly, he was her family, and she loved him, but there were times that she just wanted to smack him in the face.

Of course, there were times when she had done that. She didn’t make allowances for the fact that he couldn't see her coming, not anymore. He had proven himself more than capable of ducking out of the way.

She loosened her grip on the can of spray paint in her hand, and tossed it in his direction. There was no malice behind the action, she simply wanted to show him that she didn’t appreciate being laughed at.

Ezra caught it easily with a sweep of his hand through the air; he didn’t even turn his head like he was trying to see it, the way he used to do. The result looked impressive. It wasn’t though, not really. Or, it was, but for Ezra it was just normal now.

What was really impressive were those times when Ezra did seem to look; when he genuinely appeared as though he could see. It had taken a lot of practice, but he had almost perfected the fine art of deception. He used it occasionally undercover, but only when he had no choice, because he didn’t trust himself not to slip up and give himself away. More often, he just used it to mess with people.

Most recently, on a trip back to Krownest, he had managed to fool some distant cousin of hers for a full five days before he finally decided to tell him the truth.

“Thanks,” Ezra said, his grin widening as his finger touched the top of the spray can. “I guess that means it’s my turn to paint something?” He brought the nozzle toward the wall.

The blue paint can moved dangerously close to the wall, and to paintings that she didn’t want to lose. Sabine resisted the urge to go over there and snatch it away from him. “Don’t you dare,” she told him. She tried to keep the panic out of her voice. He wouldn’t do it; she knew that. She trusted him. But on the other hand, he was still Ezra. His sense of humor was sometimes tinged with the kind of malice that showed exactly how much time he spent around Chopper.

He shook his head and put the can down on the table in front of him. “Joking,” he assured her. “Don’t worry, I know you’ve finished that wall. But find me a nice blank space and I bet I could fill it with something ‘blue and swirly’.”

Sabine grimaced at the reminder of her terrible descriptive skills. “Shut up,” she told him. “It’s a picture of nothing, of course I can’t describe it. It’s not even very good.”

It wasn’t bad, actually, and it definitely wasn’t really of nothing. It didn’t matter anyway; she didn’t think it would be there for long. It was making her think of things she would rather not.

“I’m sure it’s great, Sabine. I’ve never seen you paint anything bad.”

“Yeah, well. You haven’t seen this…” She stopped abruptly, her breath catching in her chest and heat rising to her face. She hadn’t meant to say that. Of course he hadn’t seen it; that was the whole point. He hadn’t seen anything she had painted for over a year.

She forced up her gaze up, to look at him, dreading what she was going to see. Slowly, he picked up the paint can again and rolled it between his palms, then allowed the tips of his fingers to trace the top, a solemn expression on his face. “True,” he agreed. “I still know it’s great though. In fact, if I could get to see one more thing, I’d choose this painting.”

She winced. She hated talk like that, and he knew it.

“Sorry,” Ezra told her. “I would though. Even if it was just to prove I’m right.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she told him. For a start, the ability to see one more thing would be a gift that he wouldn’t waste on a design sprayed onto a wall. If he ever got that chance — and he wouldn’t, so there was no point thinking about it really — she still had the holo of his parents carefully stored in a safe place.

Ezra grinned, and she wasn’t sure whether it was her imagination, or whether the expression didn’t quite look real this time. “I don’t know, I might. I’m kinda curious why you’re being so secretive about it.”

She looked at the painting again. It was going. First thing in the morning she was either going to find a way to change it into something else, or she was going to paint over it. She didn’t have any paint right now that matched the walls, but she didn’t care, she would cover it in orange if she had to. It was too personal. Anyone that saw it probably wouldn’t understand what it represented, but it still gave too much away. She didn’t like having something like that on her wall.

“Actually,” Ezra continued, a little wistfully now, “maybe I’d see your new hair color. This is the second change I’ve missed.”

She folded her arms. It was the third change, technically. He hadn’t seen the black she had dyed it for her undercover mission either, but that didn’t really count. “It’s purple,” she told him.

“And swirly?”

“Shut up. No. It’s a little lighter at the tips, but basically it’s just purple.”

It hadn’t been this dark in years. In certain lights it almost looked like her natural black. She half-wondered whether she had made an unconscious decision to remove some of the colors from her life; if Kanan couldn’t have them, and Ezra, they felt meaningless sometimes.

“I mean, it looks good,” she added, “but if you could see one thing? There’s a lot better things you could choose.”

She didn’t really want to be talking about this. It was irrelevant, theoretical, and she didn’t know how Ezra could stand to even imagine being faced with a choice like that. It shouldn't bother her. If it didn’t bother him to talk about it, she should be able to listen. Maybe it even helped him, so it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to stop.

“Fine,” he said. “I’d choose the painting you did of Zeb and Kallus in the cargo bay, the one that Zeb keeps threatening to paint over. I’d want to see it before it’s gone.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “You know, that one I actually believe you might choose,” she said. “It’d still be a huge waste though.”

He shrugged. “Hey, at least I’d get a laugh out of it. Your description of that one was actually pretty good.”

“That one was an actual thing,” she told him. “This is more like…”

“A feeling?”

She looked at him, surprised. How had he known that?

“You can describe those too, you know,” he told her. “Like… you remember on Atollon? I only saw it once before we left for Malachor, but the sunset, it was beautiful. The sky was almost purple higher up, but the horizon was on fire. It was my first night there, and I knew I was leaving soon, and I didn’t know when or even if I was going to come back, but it already felt like home, you know? I felt safe, and I got that warm feeling you get when you know you’re right where you’re supposed to be. It was the same feeling I got when I met you guys, when I first came aboard the Ghost. Until then, I hadn’t felt it since I was too young to recognize it.”

“It wasn’t that you were too young,” Sabine told him. “It’s because you’d never been without it, it had just always been there so you never noticed it until you lost it and got it back.”

Ezra shrugged, “Maybe you’re right. But it was that, and it was this feeling that we were starting a new chapter, like things were going to get better from now on, things were finally going the way they were supposed to. I was nervous, obviously, but I felt at peace, like whatever happened on Malachor, at least I’d come this far. It was like the sun was setting on the past and getting ready to rise on something new.”

She folded her arms tightly. The sunset hadn’t meant that to her. It hadn’t meant anything. He was right; it had been beautiful, but she had seen it so many times that it had become commonplace. Now, she was seeing it through new eyes.

Why could Ezra do that, when she couldn’t?

“I hate you,” she told him with a smile.

He grinned back at her. “I know.”

She looked at him critically. He had changed so much in the few years she had known him. Not just the obvious; the extra inches on his height that had made him taller than her, but also the confidence that he had picked up along the way. He had lost it for a time, after Malachor, but it had come back to him in recent months, and it suited him.

Picking up on her change of mood, he turned his head in her direction, eyes not quite meeting hers. “What?” he asked.

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to get into that, not now. “Your hair’s getting long,” she said instead. “When did you last cut it?”

He put down the paint can and frowned thoughtfully. “Before,” he said.

She didn’t need to ask before what. Their lives were divided now, into what happened before and after that fateful mission. “Yeah,” she told him. “That’s what I figured. It’s almost touching your shoulders now.”

In fact, it was a little longer than that, at the back. In that awkward phase of growing where it was neither one thing nor the other. It looked a mess.

His hand moved to his hair, brushing it back. It wasn’t quite long enough to stay in place, and when he moved his head it came back to where it had been a moment earlier. “Yeah, I know,” he told her. “I don’t need to see it to know that.”

Of course he didn’t, she hadn’t meant to imply that he didn’t know. She frowned at him. “So what’s the plan?” she asked. “You trying to compete with Kanan or something? Planning on growing a beard next?”

Ezra grinned teasingly, and touched his fingertips to his face. “Hey, great idea. I think it’d look pretty good.”

“Yeah, well. You think wrong.”

He laughed, and touched his hair a little self-consciously. “I guess you’re right, it is getting a little long. I should probably either cut it or tie it back. I’m just not sure I trust myself to cut it without looking.”

Right. Which was why it had gotten that long in the first place. And probably why Kanan had grown his beard too. Ezra’s hair was probably too short still to tie back without the front parts falling out around his face, but it definitely needed something.

She could have some fun with it.

“How much do you trust me?” she asked.

#star wars rebels #swr fanfic #in one piece au #au #ezra bridger #sabine wren #blind ezra #sabine's art #not as angsty as some of these have been #comments are loved

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ryqoshay · 7 years

Text

HL Side Story: Unsent - To Kanan and Dia

Primary Pairing: KanaDiaMari Mentioned Pairing?: a redhead and a blue-haired girl? Words: ~1.1k Rating: K AU: Angelic Time Frame: Shortly after the graduation of the 3rd years Story Arc: Stand Alone Set: “Unsent” To Maki (HtHaN) To Nico (HtHaN) To Riko (HL) To Yoshiko (HL) To Honoka (HtHaN) To Kanan and Dia (HL) To Hanayo (HtHaN)

List of all HL scenes

Author’s Note: This is the sixth of what was to be four entries in a set I am calling Unsent. The idea was inspired by a contest over on Sukutomo to write a love letter to one of the idols. For anyone reading Happy Life out of order, might I suggest at least reading How to Fall before reading this for a bit of context?

Dear Kanan-chan and Dia-chan,

If you are reading this, then I have made my final ascent and am unable to return here to Earth. I am sorry that you have to learn the truth in this manner, as I would have preferred to have told you in person.

I am an angel.

No, Dia-chan, I’m not being silly or vain. I am literally an immortal being that was born in a heavenly realm. White feathered wings, halo and shiny magic; the whole shebang and caboodle. Maybe if I add enough glitter and sparkles to the delivery method of this letter, it will help you believe?

Yes, Kanan-chan, there was another reason why I insisted on being part of the primary pair for the angelic costume set. It wasn’t just because I thought the outfits were magnificent, though that part was still true.

The blonde pursed her lips. Should she mention that it was the same reason she also had insisted that the redhead be the other half of the pair? No. The redhead herself did not know yet. It didn’t seem fair to reveal the secret to anyone else first. And even if she did find a way to tell the redhead, and the blue-haired girl for that matter, it would be up to them if they wanted anyone else to know.

I’ve visited Earth many times in my life. I’ve seen many things and made many friends. But the first time I visited this one crescent shaped island nation off the coast, I finally found a reason to stay. Two reasons, actually.

So I fell.

Both literally and figuratively.

I love you. Both of you. I gave up eternity for you.

Of course if you’re reading this, eternity may have taken me back. Or maybe it didn’t. Honestly, I don’t know. Despite what a close friend of mine might think, I don’t know everything about how this all works. This letter is really just a failsafe should it come to pass that I am in some way prevented from coming back down again.

But back to more happy happy fun things.

You two mean the world to me. From the moment you welcomed me into your lives years ago, I knew we would be friends forever. And to later learn the extreme measures you both took to look out for my wellbeing, I am truly blessed.

The blonde laughed lightly to herself. She couldn’t help wondering how those two would react if they learned the extreme measures she herself had taken, like faking how long the sprain had taken to heal. She had cast a healing spell on it prior, but since it was already known, she had to pretend that it took the expected time for a mortal to heal naturally. It was rather ironic that something she had tried to do in order to stay ended up being the catalyst for her going away.

Kanan-chan, your love of the ocean is amazing. I would swim with you anywhere. I would swim from here if it was the only way to see you again. Though I’m not going to lie, I would rather fly. I know it took a little while to find that carefree attitude of yours that I loved from before I left the first time, but you’re back to being you again and I cannot tell you happy that makes me. I love that I can always be myself around you.

Or as much as I can in this mortal form, the blonde thought with a smirk.

Dia-chan, your sense of duty is like no other. Sure, you can be strict at times, but I know you always mean well. And your flustered tirades over trivial minutia are always amusing. I look forward to seeing you take over the position as the head of the Kurosawa conglomerate. I know you will do well.

We had another wonderful year together, didn’t we? Helping to reform Aqours was the best thing I’ve done in quite a while. But honestly, just seeing you two again was enough to make me happy.

Well, the restoration of Aqours would have actually been the second-best thing if a certain couple had followed the plan. The blond sighed. Not that it was their fault of course…

So in the end, whatever happens, know that I will always be looking after you in any way I can. And if I truly am unable to return, I shall wait for you here.

Until we meet again.

Forever yours, Veritas

The blonde folded the letter and slipped it in an envelope before holding it out with both hands. She uttered an ancient phrase and it began to hover in place. Moving her hands apart, the original letter followed one while a duplicate followed the other. She then spoke another phrase and made a quick gesture. Both letters disappeared in a flash to be filed away in her private storage above and automatically delivered if certain circumstances were met. Finally, she picked up her phone.

SerafinaDellaVerità: Come sono le mie due persone preferite nel mondo?

KurosawaDia: Why Mari?

KurosawaDia: Why can’t you just type in Japanese?

KurosawaDia: Now I have to look that up

Delphinus: Hahahahaha!

Delphinus: I’m good. How are you?

KurosawaDia: I’m fine as well

SerafinaDellaVerità: I’m looking up at the sky

SerafinaDellaVerità: Our sky

Delphinus: I was just about to go out for a dive

Delphinus: But I might take a moment to do the same

KurosawaDia: Give me a moment to walk outside

KurosawaDia: It’s lovely here

KurosawaDia: How does it look over there?

SerafinaDellaVerità: Meraviglioso!

KurosawaDia: Where is the sigh emoticon…

Delphinus: You should be used to looking things up by now, Dia-chan

SerafinaDellaVerità: Esattamente!

KurosawaDia: I wouldn’t have to if you just typed normal

KurosawaDia: Both of you

KurosawaDia: Don’t think I haven’t seen you typing weird stuff as well, Kanan

Delphinus: It’s just Italian

Delphinus: She’s in Italy after all

KurosawaDia: Never mind

SerafinaDellaVerità: So are either of you going to be in town this weekend?

Delphinus: Tokyo or Numazu?

SerafinaDellaVerità: Numazu

Delphinus: I can be

KurosawaDia: I will be

SerafinaDellaVerità: Papa is heading over for some business at the hotels

SerafinaDellaVerità: I figured I’d tag along so I could spend a few days with you two

Delphinus: That sounds great

Delphinus: We should gather Chika and the others as well

Delphinus: They’d love to see you

SerafinaDellaVerità: Maybe one of the nights

SerafinaDellaVerità: But the other I’d like to spend with just the three of us

KurosawaDia: I’m sure we can work something out

SerafinaDellaVerità: Wonderful

SerafinaDellaVerità: I’ll look forward to it

Delphinus: Same here

KurosawaDia: As will I

The blonde smiled as she set down her phone and returned her attention to the sky.

Author’s Note Continued: It honestly wasn’t my original intent to throw in so much exposition for the world building I’ve been doing for Happy Life, but that’s where my µ’s must lead, so I followed. I hope it doesn’t confuse too many readers. My apologies if it does.

#KanaDiaMari #Matsuura Kanan #Kurosawa Dia #Ohara Mari #Happy Life #Love Live Sunshine #fanfic

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athyrabunlord · 7 years

Text

Tuning

Prize for Manny, who found me in a SIF score match! Sorry this ended up more like Maru-centric + 3rd Years instead of Azalea as per your request (๑≧౪≦)てへぺろ oh and some subunit shenanigans A/N: This blip took place some time after Aqours finally had 9 members, and they just started their subunit activities. Characters: Hanamaru+ 3rd years (Azalea + Mari), and cameos of the rest Words: 1,826

Hanamaru couldn’t help but wear a huge smile as she hurried down the hallway. She used to go straight to the library after school, content to just immerse herself in the fantastical world of adventure, romance and even sci-fi.

But now, she had something even more amazing to look forward to! Every day, there was a new story waiting for her to unfold. How could she not be excited?

Certainly, it was hard at first to get into shape, but all those exercise and training were worth it. The fatigue and sense of accomplishment felt really good, especially since she never partook in such strenuous physical activities before, being the bookworm she was. The more stamina she built up, the longer she could enjoy singing and dancing with her wonderful friends at Aqours!

She felt proud to be able to support Ruby, reconnect with her old friend Yoshiko, and bond with the kind senpais.

Her steps faltered a little as she realized what the club activity was for today. In their previous group meeting, it was decided that they would start the subunit practice. No wonder Ruby was whisked away so suddenly after the bell chimed. Hanamaru only remembered hearing You and Chika’s excited voices, and Ruby’s confused squeak.

“Come on, Ruby-chan! Let’s go already~”

“Now now Chika-chan, you didn’t have to drag Ruby-chan. But yes, let’s full-speed ahead!”

“Um, it’s okay, I’m happy to-”

“Genki Zenkai~?”

“Day!” “Day!” “ Daaaaaaay!!!!”

“Pikiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!”

Right, CYaRon! even had their song title already.

Yoshiko had also excused herself when they met up with Riko at the stairway, stating that she shall go on a manhunt for their elusive shiny Director. Except the self-proclaimed fallen angel used the phrase ‘traverse through the hellfire of Phlegethon, where the shiny demon queen lurks within the depth of Tartarus’. Guilty Kiss was quite distinctive indeed!

Hanamaru giggled quietly. She was certain that her two best friends were having a great time with their respective subunits. Trepidation washed away her light mood as she reminded herself that she had yet to really connect with her Azalea team. She got along with the second years just fine, but she was rather nervous about being alone with Dia and Kanan. Without the moral support from her peers or even the enigmatic blonde who had similar wavelength as Yoshiko, Hanamaru felt intimidated.

She was distinctly aware of her shortcomings whenever she thought about Dia and Kanan. They were tall, beautiful and confident. Of course, she’s only heard good things about the two senpais, whether from Ruby or You and Chika. Their successful performance of Mijuku Dreamer and the subsequent lives certainly made her admire how dependable they were. The student council president organized Aqours’ activities, while the friendly diver designed their training regime.

Dia was the push they needed to get through a session, stern yet also gentle as she was, while Kanan was the vigilant brake that determined their rest intervals, even though she appeared laidback most of the time. They complemented each other well, and they certainly looked out for their kouhais. Although, they did slip into childish bickers sometimes with Mari, who knew just when to light up the atmosphere and help her two friends relax.

Hanamaru pursed her lips in resolution. Ruby would surely encourage her to do her Rubesty, and so she shall try her hardest to reach Dia and Kanan’s level.

When she arrived at the clubroom, where Azalea’s meeting was to be held, she was surprised to find another visitor. Mari was sitting beside the closed door with a small smile on her face, her back leaned against the wall and her eyes closed in relaxation.

Was she napping? Just as Hanamaru stepped closer, she heard a symphony of voices inside the clubroom. Her eyes widened at how harmonious the tune was, of how Dia’s husky and steady voice blended with Kanan’s rich and blithe tone. It was a song she had never heard before, and it must be an incomplete one too for the two girls slightly changed the pitch and lyrics intermittently.

Still, the brunette found herself entranced. “Zura…”

“Ara, Hanamaru-chan?” Mari was gazing at her amiably, and patting the spot beside her in invitation. Curious, the younger girl sat down and peered at her.

“Nice surprise, isn’t it? Kanan and Dia used to this back then, to hone our songs,” Mari’s features were soft in nostalgia. “I would give them the first draft of the melody, and they would brainstorm the lyrics. While I’m off refining the music, they would sing in trial segments like this. Sometimes they even come up with the choreography as they go. Once we’re somewhat happy with our respective parts, we would convene and finalize the song together.”

“That’s incredible zura. I had no idea that was how the… um, first generation Aqours was like.”

Nowadays, the tasks were more evenly distributed amongst the members, so Hanamaru couldn’t imagine just how the third-years managed when it was just the three of them. Whenever she worked on the lyrics with Chika, the sunny leader often expressed her relief at how much better it was now compared to how they had to complete Daisuki Dattara Daijoubu.

“Hmm? We never mentioned it? Well, don’t tell Rikocchi I used to be the composer~ I want to surprise her and Yoshiko-chan later~”

Hanamaru chuckled at Mari’s feline-like grin. “And the costumes?”

“Oh, we all work on the outfits together! Usually, Dia would come up with the designs, I would have input with the fabrics and accessories, and Kanan would put them all together. Ehehe, shiny, aren’t they?”

There was such fondness and pride in Mari’s voice, though the sparkle in her eyes already spoke volumes. Hanamaru was pleased to learn about her seniors, and the fact that they worked meticulously to finalize a song made them so much more relatable.

They fell silent for a moment, both enjoying the sonorous voices behind the closed door. “I love listening to them - they inspire me to improve the music, especially knowing how hard they try to refine the song.”

Hanamaru recalled what Chika once said to Dia and repeated the same words with a soft smile. “Mari-san really loves Dia-san and Kanan-san ne?”

“Of course! And I’m sure you understand what I mean~”

“Ah, there she is!”

Yoshiko was huffing as she approached them, irritation evident in her fearsome but cute scowl. Riko, looking exhausted, was close behind with the three confused members of CYaRon in tow. Mari sprang up the moment Yoshiko made a pose and lunged in a wild dash.

“Ha! Your chokehold technique isn’t going to work on me, Yoshiko-chan! Not to mention, you’ll have to catch me first, ciao~”

Like a shooting star, the shiny Director soon disappeared from eyesight, much to Riko’s frustration.

“Mou! Stop it you two! Can’t we just start the meeting already?” Unfortunately, her plea went unheard.

Chika suddenly grinned, her expression full of mischief. “Ah, Shiitake came to join us!”

“Yeeeek!!”

Riko jolted in reflex, knocking into Yoshiko who stumbled forward just as the door opened.

“What is the ruckus-” Dia poked her head out just in time for the younger girl to collide into her. As they sprawled on the ground in a painful heap, Ruby worriedly crouched beside them and tried to help. Kanan soon came to their rescue and easily untangled them. You was exasperatedly reprimanding the not-so-apologetic looking Chika, but also coaxing Riko not to strangle their leader.

As Hanamaru watched the chaotic scene before her, a revelation slowly dawned upon her. Mari was correct - she did understand what the older girl meant.

She loved everything about Aqours.

She cherished every moment with her friends, and wished to contribute to the group as much as she could to show just how dearly she adored them.

“Hnff! The great Yohane shall accept your challenge, O Golden Star. I will capture you! Come, my little demons! Lily and No.4, keep an eye out for possible ambushes!”

Dia deadpanned at seeing how accepting her little sister was with the ridiculous nickname. Yoshiko, Ruby, Chika and (a very irked) Riko soon left the area. You sent them a sheepish look before shouting “Yousorou~” and chasing after them.

“Goodness, this is why I was against how the subunits are divided. Someone needs to keep an eye on Mari-san,” Dia’s voice was severe, yet an imperceptible smile belied her true thoughts on the matter.

Kanan chuckled in agreement before turning to look at Hanamaru. ““I hope Mari didn’t trouble you too much.”

Hanamaru resisted the urge to shrink under the tall senpais’ gaze and replied a little defensively.. “S-She didn’t. We were just chatting zura.” She blinked in realization. “You knew we were here the whole time?”

“Well, Kanan-san and I did not know that you were here as well, Hanamaru-san,” Dia’s tone softened as if sensing her unease. “But yes, we knew Mari-san was here. That is why we want to work even harder so we do not disappoint her.”

At those words, Hanamaru found herself relaxing and smiling up at her fellow Azalea members. “Hehe, you didn’t disappoint her at all. She.. no, we both loved it zura~”

“That’s good to hear!” Kanan patted her on the head, a gesture that pleasantly surprised her. “Alright, we have a lot to do today, Maru.”

“Indeed, we would like you to revise the lyrics with us,” Dia also gently smiled at her then.

Hanamaru felt rather silly about her apprehension earlier. She would surely find her place with these two kind senpais, so she had better not let them down.

This was a whole new chapter in her story and she couldn’t wait for more!

=========================

“Ganbatta tte owaranai (I’ve never stopped trying my best)~ Son’na… hmm...”

Hanamaru paused and jotted down a few things in her notebook while humming the next segment. She tried again with a new set of lyrics but shook her head with a pout.

A hand teasingly prodded at her cheek. “Now now, Maru, don’t wear a frownie.”

“But Kanan-chan, you’ve already finished the first verse… I need to finish mine so we can fine-tune the chorus part.”

“There is no need to hurry. Patience is the key,” Dia also wrote down a few phrases, her expression thoughtful. “Perhaps we could…”

The three of them shared a knowing glance and began to sing. They adjusted their pitch accordingly as they went, and after Kanan finished her part, Hanamaru followed with ease and instinctively picked the lyrics from the page full of ideas.

“Son’na koto mo aru Mission~ (In this Mission) Tasukete agetai, kono uta de~ (I want to help you with this song~”

Hanamaru beamed at her friends, who returned the gesture just as excitedly. Their third subunit song was coming along quite nicely, just as their first two songs had.

They were Azalea, and efficient teamwork was one of their best points.

Yes, this is where I belong zura~

#athyra writes #azalea #kunikida hanamaru #kanadiamari #3rdYears #Cyaron #Guilty Kiss #yes those were verses from Lonely Tuning #I'm too much of a 3rdYears garbage to keep this strictly Azalea ;;w;;#up to the reader to decide what the sub pairings are in this short blip xD #SM encounter prize

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stay70573 · 7 years

Text

A Mother’s Touch

Author’s Note:

Written for @meldy-arts, even though I can’t follow instructions well enough to do purely angst XD

Anyways, based off of Meldy’s AU where Ezra loses an arm. This would take place very recently after that event.

Shall we begin?

Three weeks.

It had been three weeks since Ezra had lost his arm. Three weeks since he screamed hysterically in a half drugged straight, clawing at the arm that no longer was there. Three weeks since he lay helpless on a hospital bed, doctors and surgeons working tirelessly to attach the new arm he had.

And it had been three weeks since Hera had seen Ezra.

As soon as he was released from the Med-center he disappeared into his room. Even Zeb didn’t see him, the young man’s sleep schedule now shifted to where he slept when no one was there. At least, she he was sleeping. He didn’t come for meals, outings or missions of any kind. Kanan could sense him, but faintly, and every time he did he sensed great pain and sorrow. He had tried a few times to find him, but whenever he got near the Force signature vanished. Sabine, who normally had contacted him from Mandalore every week or two was worried. She mentioned having not spoken to him since the incident, a twinge of guilt in her voice. Hera assured her it was alright, and that when Ezra was ready he’d contact her. She remembered the immediate conversation she had with Kanan after that.

“It would seem he doesn’t want to be found.”

Kana muttered as he sipped a cup of caf. This was the fifth time he had tried, to no avail, and he was beginning to wonder if it was best to leave him be.

“Kanan… Remember what happened with you?”

Kanan’s lips pursed at the memory.

“Yeah, but he’s not like me. If we try and force him to talk, we might just make it worse. I’ll keep tabs on him to make sure he’s ok, but we have to let him come to terms with it on his own.”

It was Hera’s turn to purse her lips, not liking this at all. Ever since they picked Ezra up from Lothal she found herself doting on the boy. She didn’t think anyone could blame her though, not after what he went through as a child. She remembered the time he got sick only a week after joining the crew, finding out how he never had shots and vaccinations. She remembered hearing the doctor’s examination details, and all the infections he had from all the years of living alone. She remembered the first time he ate something too rich, his body rejecting it immediately. She remembered when he took a bite of a slightly harder than normal ration bar, his face wincing in discomfort. It took her days, but she finally convinced him to see a dentist. And she remembered how appalled she was at the condition of his teeth.

But he never complained or fussed about any of it, any time he was asked about why he never said anything, he just shrugged and said “No one ever cared about a Loth-rat like me.”

It broke her heart.

“I suppose… I just have a bad feeling about this.”

That was a week ago, and she hadn’t seen or felt his presence aboard the Ghost. She missed Ezra, the little boy who brought a special joy into their lives gone.

Not little anymore. He’s grown up, matured.

But she couldn’t shake that fact. To her, he’d always be the little Loth-rat they saved.

And perhaps, who saved us.

She sighed, almost flopping back further into the Ghost’s galley seats. It was early morning now, everyone else asleep. Even Chopper had shut down for the night, plugging into the recharge port. She held the slowly cooling caf in her hands, unable to think or rest. She rose, cup in hand, and crept quietly to the cockpit. She found the pilot’s seat to be her comfort zone, the place where everything seemed right. Was about to key pad when she heard a soft whimpering come from the other side. She stood still for a moment, ear pressed near the door. She realized who was tearing up from behind the doors, and she quickly opened the door, not wanting to lose the source. The door slid open with a hiss, Ezra staring up at the starry sky above. As soon as he heard the door he turned, his eyes red and puffy. He bolted from the seat, moving at a speed Hera though near impossible, jumping down the ladder that led to the cargo hold.

“Ezra, wait!”

Hera reached out to try and stop him, but he was out of her sight. She dropped her caf cup and bolted after him, although she couldn’t follow his action, so she had to climb down the ladder. She hit the first landing, turning to hear and see the Cargo bay door opening. She rushed down the second ladder, intent on not letting him go. She had tried to follow Kanan’s advice, but she couldn’t stand it any longer. She made it to the floor and turned, seeing Ezra disappearing into the darkness of the docking zone.

“Ezra!”

She ran after him, not caring anymore about letting him sort it out. He seemed to falter as she chased him, and she realized he was going towards the Phantom II.

“Ezra! Please!”

At the word ‘please’ he slowed to a stop, and the closer she got, the more she realized how shaken up he really was. She watched as his shoulders shook, his breathing ragged. She heard soft sobs, as his hands and arms stiffened against his sides. She slowed too, but continued to move closer. She stopped a foot behind him, tentatively reaching a hand out. She placed it on his shoulders in a comforting way, and that moment he seemed to break beneath the wait of her kindness.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was a quiet whisper, and his breaking broke her. Hera quickly pulled him into a tight hug. For a moment he didn’t respond except with a stifled sob, but she found his arms had moved to hug her back. She stood there for a moment, gently whispering soothing words to him as a hand ran up to stroke his head. He sobbed for a few moments longer, before sniffling and looking up at her.

“I’m so sorry Hera.”

She shushed him gently, pressing a hand against the back of his head to reassure him.

“Hush, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He continued to sniffle, the tears having stopped at last.

“I could… I could feel the worry radiating off you. Kanan too.”

“Everyone is worried about you Ezra. Even Chopper misses you aboard the ship, and Zeb might never admit it, but he misses his roommate. Even Sabine called me to say she missed you.”

Ezra’s face fell slightly, but Hera would have none of it. She gently placed a few fingers beneath his chin, lifting his head up to face her.

“No one’s mad at you Ezra, we all just miss you.”

He averted his eyes from her, unable to look at her for the moment. He gently unlocked himself from her, taking a step back, one arm folding across his chest to grab the other, metallic one. He recoiled at the touch of his own body.

“But I’m no good anymore.”

His words we so quiet she almost missed them, but there was nothing but them and the quiet ships around her.

“What do you mean?”

The question seemed to break something in him, and the damn that held the tears broke once more.

“I MEAN I’M BROKEN!”

His shouts echoed slightly, but no one was around to listen but her. She hadn’t really imagined he thought of himself in such a way, her brain never seeing anything but the small, fragile boy they took aboard. Even then, he was never a broken child. The only time he ever seemed broken was when he found about his parents. But he seemed to bounce back every time, all smiles and good natured jabs. But this? This was something she’d only ever seen once. He had the same angry look that Kanan did when they returned from Malachor, the words he spoke almost a mirror. She swallowed, unable to suppress the memories of how closed off Kanan had become during that time. She couldn’t bear to see Ezra do the same.

“Ezra, sweetheart, you’re not broke-“

Ezra’s eyes, still red and puffy, were filled with a renewed anger. But it wasn’t at her, she could hear it in his voice.

“How can you say that Hera! Look at me!”

He raised his new arm, and Hera couldn’t help but wince ever so slightly. She remembered the burnt stump that was there when he returned from that fateful mission, and the memories of the time in the med-center flooded back.

“I can’t even protect myself! How can I protect all of you?”

The words stopped Hera’s thoughts as she looked at him with a newfound curiosity.

“Ezra, no one needs you t-“

“BUT I DO! I can’t lose anymore family! I can’t watch anyone else go! No one else! Not a single person!”

She remembered Ezra’s face ever seeming so lost only three times. News of his parents, when they talked about Kanan’s blindness, and when Sabine left. She took a step forward, wanting nothing but to hug the boy and never let him go, but he continued his venting.

“But I couldn’t even save myself! Now look at me!”

He held out the offending item, and she finally noticed how it shook and spasmed.

“It’s not the arm, I had the doctor’s check, it’s fine. No, this is me. And if this is what happens, how can I hold a lightsaber or a blaster? What if I can’t stop a detonator coming at us because of my arm? Or get a door open in time? I can’t even fly a ship properly anymore!”

He began to break down into sobs once more, and Hera rushed to Ezra, holding him against her as she soothed him once more.

“Ezra, look at me please.”

This time he obeyed, the sad blue eyes before her breaking the last of her strength.

“Ezra… We can’t control what happens. Something might happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after. Remember when I was in the hospital after the Concord Dawn incident?“

He nodded, the memory flashing in his eyes.

“A lot of bad could have happened, but we made it out ok. And we keep going. We can’t just stop because of our fear of the bad things that could happen. We push on, because we can’t let fear win. And like when I was hurt, you aren’t alone. We’re all here for you, we always have been and will be for as long as we can.”

He exhaled slowly, the hot breath pushing past her. She kept her hold on him tight, afraid he might run off if she let go, but found instead he turned to her with a small smile. It didn’t seem like much to anyone else, but to her, it meant everything was going to be alright.

“I’m sorry Hera.”

She smiled and stroked a hand through his short hair.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just come home ok?”

He nodded, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Ok… Let me just get my stuff.”

She released him and watched as he moved to the Phantom II, keying in the access code. The door slid open, and she followed him into the shuttle. She shook her head as he retrieved a pillow and blanket from under one of the seats. She hadn’t noticed that, wondering how he managed to hide these for the last few weeks. It made sense, seeing as she never saw him aboard the ghost, but she figured she would have seen something was amiss. But, Ezra always good at hiding things, and this was no exception. He saw her looking and chuckled sheepishly at her slightly annoyed look.

“Sor-“

“Ezra, I love you dearly, but if you say sorry one more time I’m going to smack you.”

The tone and the smile on her lips caused him to relax, realizing she was teasing. At least he hoped she was.

“Yes Ma’am.”

She took a few steps forward, standing at the cockpit as she looked up at the beautiful night sky above them. It was almost picturesque. Ezra joined her as they starred together at the stars that shone above.

“I dreamed of you some nights, when the stars were bright like this.”

She was taken aback by his quiet statement, and she turned and gave him a quizzical look. He continued to look up to the stars, but clarified his statement.

“I dreamed we would fly together in the stars, and you’d be proud of the pilot I’d become.”

Her heart broke at the unspoken words. She didn’t need him to say it, but she knew how he’d never really need to impress anyone, or make them proud. Except his parents. She remembered how he told her about all the things he wanted to tell them, of all the things he did that he hoped they’d be proud of him for. And she could only nod, for she was proud of him, both then and now.

“Ezra… I couldn’t be more proud of you if you were my own son. And in many ways, you are. You’ll always be family, and we will always be proud of you. I’ll always be proud of you.”

New tears welled in his eyes, but they weren’t of pain or sadness anymore. They were of love and adoration, and he quietly wrapped his arms around Hera. She smiled and wrapped an arm around him, looking up at the stars. After a moment a cheeky smirk grew on Hera’s lips and she uncoupled herself from the boy, who gave her a quizzical look. She slid into the pilot’s seat and began to flip the switches and press the buttons, the shuttle flickering to life. She reached over and hit the comms.

“This is Phoenix leader, requesting permission to take off from dock 98.”

There was a short moment of static before the comms came to life.

“This is Yavin Home, where are you going so late?”

“Yavin Home, Specter 6 and I are just going on a quick fly, we’ll be back in a bit.”

There was more static in response, but at last a request came through, the voice different, feminine now.

“This is Yavin Home, you are cleared for takeoff. Don’t stay out too long Hera, it is, after all, against the rules you made.”

Hera smiled.

“Copy that Yavin Home… And thank you Senator Mothma.”

As the shuttle door closed up behind them Ezra turned to Hera and gave her a curious glance. She simply smiled at him innocently.

“What? You think you and Sabine are the only rebellious ones? We ARE a rebellion after all. Besides, I need a co-pilot.”

The words hit him suddenly and a bright and brilliant smile lit up his face. He slid into the co-pilot seat and began to hit the appropriate switches and buttons, not realizing that his arm had stopped shaking.

And as the Phantom II rose up and began to soar through the clouds and into the stars, Ezra turned and gave Hera a smile that she would always remember, and truly believed everything would be alright.

#star wars rebels #hera syndulla #ezra bridger #Kanan jarrus #Space mom and son bonding #writing

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journeytotheblackmountain · 7 years

Text

I’m reworking Hera’s confession from Chapter 14, “Trade.” I felt like it was a little short and some of you agreed. So if you want to read the updated conversation, 1028 words are below the break. (^_-)☆

Hera closed her eyes as if hearing those words was a relief and began.

“You know that I grew up on Ryloth, during the Clone Wars and the Imperial occupation,” she said. “My family’s been fighting for Ryloth’s freedom since before I was born. At first we were politicians, but things got bad under the Separatists, and then under the Empire they got worse.” Hera’s fists tightened around the too-long sleeves of her sweater. “My family went into hiding, but my parents wouldn’t give up. My mother…” Hera bit her lip. “She died in a raid getting medical supplies. I was eleven.”

Kanan’s chest tightened sharply, like an open wound had jumped from her to him. He wondered for a second if he hadn’t unconsciously connected to her through the Force, but he wasn’t sensing her presence the same way. No, he didn’t need the Force to feel the anguish that steeped these words; it was visceral enough on its own.

Hera took a deep, shaky breath. Her eyes flitted up at him and back down again just as quickly. “My mother died and my father dedicated his life to fighting the Empire. I barely saw him and even when I did, I didn’t kn- he wan’t...” Hera choked something back. She pursed her lips, focusing on the words, and said, “My father is Cham Syndulla.”

Kanan had planned to keep his face a mask, but his eyebrows shot up at this. Everyone knew the name “Cham Syndulla,” the leader of the terrorist group Free Ryloth, the one that had made an assassination attempt on the Emperor five years ago in a spectacular political disaster. Kanan had always assumed it was a coincidence that Cham and Hera had the same family name. After all, as he understood it, Twi’lek clans were fairly enormous. But it made perfect sense: her hatred for the Empire, her self-discipline, her fighting skills…

Hera continued, her voice growing more impassioned as she spoke. “After the attack, the Empire came for our family. My father sent me off world to hide, but I was finished hiding. I was finished watching people suffer and die in the Empire’s choke-hold… I knew that the only way my home was going to be free was if the galaxy was free. I knew there was more I could do outside of Free Ryloth than I could do inside of it… so, I left.”

Kanan’s mouth opened and closed. She left her home planet. She left her father, her people… everything. She left them all behind.

“You said that you’d been thinking. I’ve been thinking, too, about what I’m fighting for and what I’m running towards… and away from.” Hera’s hands were curled into fists on her knees, like his. But where his posture was a stiff gesture of respectful attention, hers betrayed a web of memories and emotions that were fighting tooth and nail to keep from being dragged into the light.

“You were right, what you said before. I am scared, but I didn’t know what I was scared of, so I couldn’t face it.” Her eyes softened as she studied the patterns on the floor. “Turns out, I’m scared of…” She blinked against the words, holding her breath. “I lost my mother, and my father. I thought that… if I never had you, then I couldn’t lose you, too.”

Kanan’s heart had stopped a few beats ago. If he was breathing he wasn’t aware of it. If his blood was still moving through his veins, keeping him alive, he wasn’t conscious of it. He reached for her and stopped. His fingers curled back. No. This wasn’t what he thought it was. This didn’t change anything.

Hera’s head dropped a fraction and her left lek slumped over her shoulder, sliding against the coarse fibers of her caf-dark sweater. “So that’s what I wanted to tell you,” she said. “That’s my trade.”

They breathed together, shoulders rising and falling. No words. No speaking. Only wounds and memories slowly dragging their claws down the battle-worn lengths of long-wounded hearts.

Something flashed in the corner of Kanan’s eye. On the other side of the viewport the dark gray sky was even darker now that the day was slipping away. The snow had started again, obscuring the far side of the city in a smoky veil.

You must learn to rule them lest they rule you…

Kanan’s mouth quirked at the corner. Emotions were valuable, but they were also dangerous. Like fire, emotions could either serve you– keep you warm, give you light– or they could destroy you– burn your hands, burn your home, burn your heart. Hera’s fear had pushed her away from him just as his affection had made him want more than she was ready to give. It looked like they were both still padawans in love and war.

His voice gently pushed aside the soft hush of the far-off snow. “I’ll tell you one more secret,” he said.

Hera sniffled once and dabbed her nose with her sleeve. Her eyes flicked up and down, but finally settled on his face. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to leave.” He smiled sadly with that ironic twist at the edge.

Hera’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’ll trade you one back,” she said. “I don’t want you to leave, either.”

Kanan pressed his hands into legs. “One more?”

She nodded.

“I’m crazy about you.”

Hera made a hiccupping noise that might have been a laugh. “Trade you back,” she dabbed her nose again. “I’m crazy about you, too.”

He was close to her now, on the edge of his chair, hands aching to reach out, but stuck to his knees like they were frozen together. “I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said.

“To the battlefield?” she asked with a helpless shrug, knowing full well what she was asking and what she was risking.

“Through it,” he said. “Whatever’s on the other side, we’ll find it, and if we can’t find it– ”

“–we’ll build it.”

They wrapped their arms around one another in an embrace tighter than anything either one of them had felt in a very long time.

#on the job #whitehawk #kanera #kanera fanfic #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #swr #star wars rebels #star wars rebels fanfiction #star wars kanan #star wars hera #kanan and hera #hera and kanan #star wars #star wars fanfic #ryloth #cham syndulla #twi'lek

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fireflyfish · 8 years

Text

Tano and Kenobi: Braiding and Beading

Previously on Tano and Kenobi...

After his vision of a possible future, Qui-Gon Jinn insists that he be allowed to train Obi-Wan Kenobi, in spite of Ahsoka Tano and Obi-Wan’s protests. When Masters Windu and Yoda are unable to find a solution to the problem, Qui-Gon and Ahsoka agree to duel for the privilege of training the young Initiate. Fortunately for Obi-Wan, Ahsoka is the superior duelist that day...

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As soon as the duel was decided in Ahsoka’s favor Obi-Wan jumped up and ran over to his master, immediately fretting over the tortured claw her hand was frozen in. “Master, we have to get you to the healers!”

Ahsoka let out a soft, exhausted laugh and shook her head, taking her left hand and slowly, carefully, with a great deal more skill than Master Yoda or Windu expected of her, sent the Force running down her arm. The cool electricity soothed her agitated nerves, inflamed muscles and ligaments: it hurt like a blaster bolt to bare skin but it was much easier to use the Force like this in the Temple than when she was on the run from the Empire.

Everything seemed easier here.

With a relieved sigh, Ahsoka relaxed her hand and stretched it out, glad to see there was no serious damage done. Then she dropped down to one knee in front of Obi-Wan and beamed up at him. “See? I told you to trust me.”

“I did, Master. I knew you would win.” Obi-Wan’s eyes shone with such radiant joy and relief that Ahsoka couldn’t resist and she pulled him in for a good, long hug. He happily submitted to her, his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders as Masters Yoda and Windu walked over to quietly speak with Qui-Gon, who was watching the two with a mixture of suspicion and a touch of regret.

“So… do you still want to be my Padawan?” Ahsoka teased, reaching out to ruffle Obi-Wan’s thick hair. “Or have you changed your mind?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his eyes bright. “Never. Can we go to the Council now?”

Ahsoka chuckled at that, nodding. “Yes. I think we can go to the Council now.”

“Good!” He took a step back, thrilled, as Ahsoka stood up. She held out her hand, called her other saber to her, and returned both to her belt as she asked Obi-Wan to bring her cloak and Qui-Gon’s from the benches.

The Force exploded with spines but a single arch of her brow immediately quelled Obi-Wan’s churlish reaction and he nodded silently as he trotted back to them. Ahsoka knew she may have won the battle with Qui-Gon and claimed Obi-Wan as her Padawan but that didn't give her or Obi-Wan the right to gloat about it or to rub it the Jedi Master’s face.

Yes, Qui-Gon had behaved abominably towards Obi-Wan and yes, he had continued that trend in the lead-up to the duel, but he had yielded and it wouldn’t do to rub his nose in his loss. They couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Qui-Gon Jinn, especially when their only friends seemed to consist of Masters Windu, Yoda and Padawan Quinlan Vos.

Ahsoka had no way of knowing how much she had changed the course of the future and it made sense to proceed forward with an abundance of caution. She just hoped she would be able to live up to the examples set by Masters Obi-Wan and Plo Koon if not Anakin.

Obi-Wan shuffled back over to Ahsoka’s side, nearly drowning in heavy robes. “These weigh as much as a gundark.”

“And how would you know what a gundark weighs?” Ahsoka teased, taking her robe from Obi-Wan and pulling it on, although she did agree that the robe was perhaps heavier than she would have liked. “Thank you, Padawan Kenobi. Now let’s make our goodbyes and then we will go to the Council.”

Obi-Wan visibly brightened at being called “Padawan” and he grinned up at Ahsoka. As much as he wanted to drop Qui-Gon’s robes on the floor and march out of the training room with Master Ahsoka at his side, he had to grudgingly admit that she was right.

And hearing Ahsoka call him “Padawan”? That made it all worthwhile.

“What happens at the Council?” Obi-Wan asked as they walked slowly towards the cluster of Masters Windu, Yoda, and Jinn. “Is that when I get my braid?”

Ahsoka pursed her lips. “You know… I don’t know. My apprenticeship was a little... unconventional. I guess we’ll find out together.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan followed after Ahsoka, trying not to trip on the yards and yards of fabric that made up Qui-Gon Jinn’s robes.

“We will discuss that later,” Windu said as Ahsoka and Obi-Wan came within earshot of the masters’ conversation. The three men turned to the new master and her padawan, who both bowed respectfully to their elders.

“Obi-Wan and I would like to thank Master Jinn for his time and effort today,” Ahsoka began, putting a hand on her padawan’s back. “And we would like to thank you, too, Master Windu and Master Yoda. I hope we can count on your wisdom and guidance in the future?”

Mace Windu quirked his lips into an almost pleasant expression as he bowed his head in response. “Of course, Knight Tano, Padawan Kenobi.”

“Strong, your bond is already,” Yoda commented, both hands folded over the knob of his gimer stick. “A good pair, you will make. Agree, do you not, Master Jinn?”

Qui-Gon peered down at the pair before him, his eyes narrowed in thought before he took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. Perhaps they will. You fought very well, Knight Tano. Obi-Wan will learn much from you.”

“Thank you, Master Jinn,” Ahsoka replied with another small bow before she caught Obi-Wan’s eye and gestured a little with her head.

“Oh! Yes!” Obi-Wan stepped forward and held up Qui-Gon’s robe, his eyes respectfully downcast. “Here is your robe, Master Jinn.”

Ahsoka coughed. Annnnnd?

Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon to take the heavy garment from his hands before he stepped back into the safety of Ahsoka’s presence before he gave a deep bow at the waist. “Thank you for your time and concern, Master Jinn. I… uhm… Thank you. Very much.”

With another short bow, Obi-Wan stepped behind Ahsoka, safe in his master’s shadow.

Qui-Gon managed a small smile and returned Obi-Wan’s bow with a shorter one of his own. “You’re welcome, Obi-Wan. I’m sure you will become a great Jedi Knight someday.”

“Yes, he will,” Ahsoka beamed proudly, glancing back over her shoulder at the blue-eyed boy who was turning an uncomfortable shade of red. “If you will excuse us, I need to clean up before our meeting with the Council.”

“Of course,” Master Windu nodded, dismissing the pair. “Make sure you visit the Quartermaster’s office. Kenobi’s dorm is going to be given to a new age group today.”

“Yes, Master Windu,” Ahsoka replied and with that, she and Obi-Wan took their leave of the masters, neither giving Qui-Gon Jinn a backwards glance as they quietly made their way to the turbolift that would take them down to the floor where the Quartermaster’s office was located.

Once the door closed on the turbolift, Ahsoka shot a sideways look at Obi-Wan, who was already looking up at her, an impish tilt to his head.

“Yes?” Ahsoka grinned, her heart full of joy and happiness. She was hard pressed to remember the last time she felt so light and joyous. It seemed that so much of her life had been tainted by loss and grief that it took some serious reminiscing to remember pure, unfettered joy.

Maybe when Anakin said he was going to take her as his Padawan after all. Maybe that was the last time she felt truly happy.

Permission to enthuse granted, Obi-Wan hands curled into fists as he punched the air. “That was amazing! You’re amazing! You beat Master Jinn and he’s huge! Did you learn to fight like that from Master Skywalker? Did he do Soresu? I saw a Soresu stance! And Djem Sho!”

Drawn into Obi-Wan’s buoyant delight, Ahsoka laughed. “Yes. There was some Soresu but I learned that from my grandmaster. Master Skywalker prefered Djem Sho and the rest I just… picked up.”

Obi-Wan nodded, absolutely enraptured by his master. “Will you teach me? I want to be able to do that too!”

Ahsoka chuckled as their elevator can to a stop. “I promise I’ll teach you everything I know. But first, I need you to take us to the Quartermaster’s office.”

“Oh yes! This way, Master!” Obi-Wan nodded, marching out of the turbolift like he was leading a grand procession, Ahsoka cheerfully following him.

After receiving the directions to their new suite of rooms, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan swung by his former dorm to gather up his few possessions, even as he kept insisting that he was a Padawan now and had no need for personal attachments.

“Obi-Wan…” Ahsoka sighed, sitting down on the bed opposite her Padawan, a solemn expression on her face. “There is nothing wrong with having mementos of happy times or a favorite pair of boots. It’s the fear of losing those things that leads to the dark side.”

Obi-Wan frowned, holding a particularly dear piece holo to his chest as he tried to understand the nuance of Ahsoka’s teachings. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry. I… I thought a Jedi had no possessions. That all attachments are bad.”

“Am I bad, Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka asked softly, holding her hands open. “I had an attachment to my master, a very strong one, and I haven’t fallen. I had very dear friends that I loved deeply and… I’m still here, right?”

Images of Anakin, of Rex and his brothers, of Bail Organa and Hera, Kanan and the rest of the Ghost’s crew flashed through her mind. She knew now she would never see any of them again. They would strangers, polite and distant, with no idea of how deeply Ahsoka had cared for them in another life, another time.

Obi-Wan looked at Ahsoka puzzled, sensing the darker shadows in her words, feeling the ghost of pain at the loss of those dear friends even though they had really only just formed a true bond together. He put down his holo cube and turned to face his master with a serious face. “I do not think you could ever fall, Master Ahsoka. And… I am sorry. I am sorry that coming here means that you will not see your friends again, that your master is lost. I… I am so honored and happy to be your Padawan but… I know this is not how you wanted it to be.”

Ahsoka gaped at Obi-Wan, baffled. “What… Obi-Wan! Don’t be ridiculous! This is what I wanted! What the Force told me to do! Just because I miss my friends does not mean I am not just as honored and happy to be your Master!”

Obi-Wan found himself pulled in tight for another hug and the Force hummed quietly around them, whispering of peace, of stillness and the promise of light. It promised its children that this was right, this was good.

They would mend what was broken and make it newer, better.

They would heal the tree that bore the horrible bounty of Darth Vader and the Empire.

All will be well, children of Light, the Force seemed to say.

“Master?” Obi-Wan mumbled into Ahsoka’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“I like these.”

Ahsoka smiled and finished off their hug with an extra strong squeeze. “Me too, Padawan. Me too.”

“So… I can keep my holos and my old boots?” Obi-Wan peeked up Ahsoka, all round blue eyes and nervous fingers. He knew Qui-Gon Jinn would have made him leave his things behind, to cast off the old in favor of the now.

Grinning, Ahsoka picked up Obi-Wan’s small pack and headed towards the door. “Of course. Now let’s get going! We have a date with the Council and I don’t know about you but I do not want to be late.”

“I try very hard not to be late, Master,” Obi-Wan informed Ahsoka, reaching out to grab his favorite pillow before he scampered after her. “But it’s always so difficult with Padawan Vos distracting me!”

“You can always tell him ‘No’, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka chuckled as they signed out of the Initiate dorm, much to the dorm master’s delight. She bid Padawan Kenobi a successful apprenticeship and waved as they both walked off in the direction of the shared living suites, where their new suite was located.

“Have you ever tried to tell Quinlan Vos ‘No’?” Obi-Wan snorted in a manner so reminiscent of Master Obi-Wan that Ahsoka spent the rest of the turbolift ride trying to control her laughter. “What? What did I say that was so funny? Master! Tell me!”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Ahsoka finally managed to gasp out only to lose her control again when Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest in a picture-perfect copy of an irritated General Kenobi upon hearing of another one of Anakin’s antics.

“Oh honestly!” Obi-Wan huffed, starting to feel embarrassed. “You are just as bad as Quinlan!”

“I’m sorry!” Ahsoka said as she took a deep breath and keyed them into their new apartments. “You just… You reminded me of my grandmaster. The… the resemblance is uncanny sometimes.”

Obi-Wan perked up at being compared to Master Skywalker’s master. “He was human? Do I look like him?”

Ahsoka nodded, checking to make sure the lights worked and the water in the refresher and the sink ran before she let Obi-Wan run into his room and start laying out his small assortment of personal effects. “You do, although Master Ob… oh look! We have a view!”

Whew! That was a close one.

“What is it of?” Obi-Wan asked from his room, not willing to leave his task for any old landscape.

“The… wow. The Senate building,” Ahsoka replied, as she realized just what is was she was gazing at. “I didn’t think the Temple had any rooms with a view out onto the Senate district.”

Obi-Wan stuck his head out of the door. “The Temple is built on top of a mountain. We have excellent views of a great section of central Coruscant.”

“Why thank you, Padawan Travel Guide,” Ahsoka replied with a bow of her head and twinkle in her eye. “Now let me hop into the refresher and then…?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with glee. “The Council?”

“The Council,” Ahsoka winked and hurried off to get clean, the distant blue dome of the Senate building forgotten.

For now.

It turned out there were two steps to officially sealing a Master-Padawan pair. There was the Presentation to the Council of Masters, where the Jedi Knight brought forth their intended Initiate to the approval or disapproval of the Masters. Almost all Jedi Knights spent weeks, if not months, consulting with friendly masters on the Council to ensure their choices were pre-approved and that the Presentation was little more than a rubber stamp.

Ahsoka had already taken steps on that front: she had filled out the paperwork necessary for claiming Obi-Wan as her Padawan the day after Qui-Gon’s tantrum and then spent the next few days quietly conferring with as many friendly masters as she could find which, surprisingly, was quite a few.

It seemed everyone in the Temple heard about Qui-Gon’s brutal rejection of Initiate Kenobi and when Ahsoka broached the subject with Master Windu, he seemed almost pleased at the idea. Master Yoda had assured her of his vote and Masters Plo Koon and Shaak Ti also quickly agreed to the pairing. With Master Yaddle’s support as well, Ahsoka really only needed one more master on the Council to agree to her claim on Obi-Wan and that last “yes” came from a surprising place.

“I have heard you intend to take Senior Initiate Kenobi as your Padawan,” Master Sifo Dyas announced, nearly scaring Ahsoka out of her skin from where she was reading a datapad on recent political actions in the Senate, searching for traces of Senator Palpatine. “I have been told you have sought the approval of several masters and yet, we have not spoken on this topic, Knight Tano.”

Ahsoka paled and gave Master Dyas a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Master Dyas. I thought that given your… doubts about my fitness for knighthood, I thought you would object to me… influencing Initiate Kenobi.”

Master Dyas took a seat opposite Ahsoka, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his hands together. “While I still have my doubts about the… complete veracity of your history, I cannot deny that you are an excellent influence on Kenobi.”

Ahsoka was a bit surprised at that, unaware that anyone besides Masters Yoda and Windu had been paying any real attention to her and Obi-Wan. And now that Ahsoka was thinking about it, there was something familiar about Master Dyas, something she couldn’t quite place. She would have to check her notes when she retired for the night but if nothing else, his name sounded very familiar.

“Thank you, Master Dyas,” Ahsoka finally said, bowing her head. “I know Obi-Wan will be a great Jedi someday and I just want to help him reach his full potential.”

“Don’t we all?” the master returned, gesturing with one hand. “Be cautious, Knight Tano. Initiate Kenobi has a gift of foresight, a burden I, too, carry. The Force tells me I should trust you but I have been wrong in the past.”

Ahsoka nodded, folding her hands in her lap as she wondered just what it was that Master Dyas was seeing. Perhaps he would be able to help her change the course of the future they seemed to be set on. “Thank you, Master Dyas. I will try to keep that in mind.”

“Good,” the master said and stood up, gazing down at her with distant eyes narrowed, as if he were looking through her to something just beyond her gaze. “I want to have faith in you, Knight Tano. I will support your request. Good luck in your duel tomorrow.”

At the time, Ahsoka had wanted to protest that she was just going to spar, that there was no official duel intended and yet Master Dyas had been correct. Ahsoka and Qui-Gon had dueled and now the whole Temple was abuzz with the news.

As Obi-Wan and Ahsoka walked to the Council room, they did their best to ignore the whispers and gossip swirling around them.

“Did you hear? Knight Tano bested Master Jinn in a duel!”

“No way!”

“Over a padawan I heard!”

“Liar! No padawan is worth dueling over. Not with Master Jinn! He’s Dooku’s old padawan.”

“They fought over that Kenobi kid that nobody wanted.”

“You mean that poor kid Jinn humiliated in the dining hall?”

“Serves him right. I heard what he said and it was brutal.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath and kept her head held high, used to ignoring Temple gossip from her years as the Chosen One’s padawan. She understood it was going to be difficult for Obi-Wan to pay it no mind at first but the faster he got used to ignoring the hissing whispers of the Temple, the better things would be for the both of them.

She could feel Obi-Wan’s discomfort in the Force, could sense him hurrying to catch up with her and avoid the loudest of the whispers. It seemed that Master Obi-Wan’s uneasiness with his own popularity and fame in the Temple was just a natural part of his personality and not a byproduct of being the master of Anakin Skywalker, who drew attention and gossip just by breathing.

Sending a wave of calm and soothing energy to Obi-Wan, Ahsoka waited with him for the door to open and allow them inside for the Presentation.

“If there is no further objections,” Master Windu spoke, his voice cutting off the quiet conversation amongst the masters, “I move to officially approve Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano to take Senior Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi as her Padawan Learner. All in favor?”

There was a warm and cheerful chorus of “Aye” and “Yes” from the assembled circle of elders and Obi-Wan tried not to twist his hands in the sleeves of his robe as he stood at Master Ahsoka’s side. He had dreamt about this moment for so long and now to have it over in just a blink of the eye, with a casual round of agreement and his signature on a data pad seemed almost anti-climactic.

He glanced up at Ahsoka, his official master now, and watched her give the necessary thanks and acknowledgements to the Council. He could tell through their new fragile but surprisingly strong bond that this didn’t come easy to her. His master had been raised in an unstable world, that much he could tell. She wasn’t a classically trained Jedi in any sense of the word but he knew with certainty that if his life was on the line, Master Ahsoka would move heaven and earth to save him, to save anyone under her protection.

Master Ahsoka was a warrior for light and while Obi-Wan might never be a truly awe-inspiring as his master, or the mythical Master Skywalker, he vowed there and then to be the best padawan that had ever lived, to learn as much as he could from Master Ahsoka and to do her and his grandmaster proud.

He couldn’t make up for what his master had lost, but he hoped to be just as worthy in his own simple way.

“We will see you both at the binding ceremony tomorrow morning,” Master Plo Koon rumbled through his rebreather as the masters dispersed, pulling Obi-Wan out of his solemn imaginings with start. Or rather, Ahsoka’s surprise sparked across the bond to him and he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“The binding ceremony?” Ahsoka repeated as she accepted a datapad from knight that served as a Council attache. She looked down at her padawan for an explanation. “I… I don’t think I went through that.”

“That is unfortunate,” Plo Koon sighed with a shake of his head. “It seems Master Skywalker was very busy on the Outer Rim.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Yeah… Always on the move. That’s Master Skywalker, alright.”

“The binding ceremony, Masters?” Obi-Wan spoke up, his voice soft and respectful. “Is that where I get my braid and hair cut?”

“Yes,” The Kel Dor master nodded, his voice warm with affection. “I have agreed to stand for you and Knight Tano, Padawan Kenobi. As will Masters Shaak Ti, Yaddle, Windu and Dyas.”

“Oh!” Obi-Wan let out a gasp of surprise and looked up at his master. “When is the ceremony?”

Ahsoka frantically scanned her datapad, where someone had helpfully uploaded instructions on the ceremony as well as the time. “Ah… tomorrow at dawn?”

Plo Koon nodded and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan got the distinct impression he found their confusion amusing. “Yes. In the Room of First Light. I trust we will see you there?”

“Yes! Of course!” Ahsoka replied as Obi-Wan agreed with a bow to the departing master. “Thank you, Master Plo Koon!”

Once they were alone back out in the hall, Ahsoka turned to Obi-Wan who beamed up at her. “Yes, master?”

Master. Am I ever going to get used to that coming from Obi-Wan Kenobi of all people?

“I think we deserve a treat,” Ahsoka grinned, pulling her, now official, padawan under her arm. “Where do you want to go? We can get anything!”

Obi-Wan’s brows furrowed in thought before he nodded. “I would like some ice cream, perhaps a sundae from that Corellian waffle place?”

Ahsoka’s stomach growled in approval and they were off. “You have excellent taste in desserts, my Padawan.”

“If it were not for your recommendations, my Master,” Obi-Wan replied, cheefully, “I wouldn’t know such a place existed.”

“Padawan, I’m going to have to teach you how to take a compliment. Aren’t I?” Ahsoka laughed as they made their way to the speeder bay.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both found it hard to sleep that night and they quietly met for tea in their shared living area about an hour and a half before sunrise. The kitchenette was stocked with a few essentials and Ahsoka carefully measured out a small spoon of honey for Obi-Wan before adding milk and sugar to hers.

The two sat together on the sofa, wordlessly watching the relentless pace of Coruscanti traffic out their window as the Senate building dozed in the distance and sparkling lights of transports moved past them.

Ahsoka sipped her tea and wondered what Anakin would think of this moment, if he would approve of the pomp and circumstance or if he would find it all ridiculous that his padawan, that Snips was going to be someone’s master.

That she was going to be Obi-Wan Kenobi’s master.

Ahsoka bowed her head and prayed to the Force that wherever Anakin was, if there was still some trace of him somewhere in the darkness of Darth Vader, that he understood why she left him. She prayed that he would understand now why she was changing not only Obi-Wan’s history but his as well.

I won’t let you down, Master. I promise. I will teach Obi-Wan everything that you taught me. He’ll be ready for you and the Sith. I swear it.

For a moment, Ahsoka thought she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and almost turned around to see if her Skyguy was standing behind her.

Almost.

“I won’t fail you, Master,” Obi-Wan spoke up at her sudden solemnity in the Force, his voice meek and shy. “I promise. I know… I know I’m not as talented as some of the other padawans but… I promise I won’t fail you. I will be the best padawan the Jedi Order has ever seen. I swear it, Master.”

Ahsoka’s heart ached at Obi-Wan’s harsh assessment of himself and she set her teacup aside to pull him close for another hug, something she had come to realize he had rarely experienced. “Obi-Wan, I just want you to be the best Obi-Wan Kenobi you can be. If you do that, I promise everything else will take care of itself.”

Obi-Wan sniffled up at her. “Can’t I do both?”

Brushing her hand through his hair, Ahsoka smiled. “I have no doubt that you can, Obi-Wan but… be kinder to yourself. You are already perfect the way you are.”

There was a watery laugh from somewhere below the thick shock of pale copper hair. “Thank you, Master. I’ll… I’ll try.”

“That’s all I will ever ask of you, Obi-Wan.”

A half hour before dawn, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka stood in the doorway of the Room of First Light, a wide circular space within the central spire of the Temple. The sky was still dark indigo, studded with the glittering jewels of passing ships and framed with distant clouds that managed to hold onto the dying radiance of the last of Coruscant’s moons sinking below the horizon.

The whole Council was assembled for the ceremony, six in front and six in the back, forming a half circle with their backs to the windows. Glowing candle-lamps hovered overhead, throwing the room into a flickering warm glow as the masters that had chosen to stand for Ahsoka and Obi-Wan stepped forward to take their chosen positions that were indicated on the floor by beautiful inlaid tile symbols.

The overall pattern on the floor resembled a starburst with twelve rays emerging from a central star where the new Master and Padawan were to stand. It meant that through each new pairing the Order was reinvigorated. Each new generation brought into the teachings and wisdom of the Jedi brought new life and a stronger Order that stood against the dark.

Master Shaak Ti stood on the symbol that represented Ahsoka’s past and heritage, as a Togruta and a Jedi. To her right was Master Yaddle, who informed Obi-Wan that she was honored to stand in Master Yoda’s place to represent his childhood and youth in the Temple. Master Windu stood to the right of Master Yoda in the middle, symbolizing the firm commitment between the two and Master Dyas took position on the mark at the end which represented the Council, the faith they had for their future, and for the faith the Order was placing in Jedi Knight Tano and Padawan Kenobi.

And Master Plo Koon stood behind Ahsoka where Anakin would have, taking the place of the line of masters lost to her through time and space and she could think of no better person to stand in Anakin or Master Obi-Wan’s stead. Master Plo squeezed her shoulder gently, offering his support without words but the message was understood all the same.

I am here for you. You are not alone in this.

Once everyone was in their proper place, Yoda stepped forward and beckoned Ahsoka to the star in the center of the room. “Come before the Council and speak.”

Ahsoka walked into the room, her head held high. “I am Ahsoka Tano, a Knight of the Jedi Order.”

“Why have you come here?” Yoda asked, his voice somehow ancient and full of life at the same time.

“I wish to take Obi-Wan Kenobi as my Padawan Learner,” Ahsoka answered. “To teach him the ways of the Force and to guide him on his path to knighthood, like my master before me.”

“And who speaks for you?” the Grand Master continued, his hands resting on the head of his gimer stick.

“I do,” the five masters in line chorused at once and Ahsoka couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine. She wondered if Anakin and Master Obi-Wan had gone through this ceremony, or if they had just been thrown together in the chaos of Naboo after Maul’s assault.

“Speak and the Force will listen,” Yoda said, his voice somehow grand in spite of the familiar croak. “A child of the Force, is she?"

“Yes,” Shaak Ti intoned, igniting her blade. “A child of Shili and of the Temple.”

Yoda nodded with a twinkle in his eye. “Claim her, do you, in Master Skywalker’s stead?”

Plo Koon nodded, igniting his blade. “In place of those lost, I claim Ahsoka Tano as a knight of my lineage.”

Even though she knew it was coming, Ahsoka still inhaled sharply and told herself not to cry at his words. Anakin...

“A Knight of the Order, is she?” Yoda turned to Master Windu, a smile on his face.

Mace gazed at Ahsoka and nodded, igniting his violet blade. “Yes, she is.”

Yoda nodded, gently tapping his gimer stick on the floor. “Good. And before us, who do you bring, Knight Tano?”

“I bring Obi-Wan Kenobi, Honored Masters,” Ahsoka stated, gesturing back to the boy waiting anxiously in the doorway. “I chose him to be my Padawan Learner, if the Force wills it.”

“Speak and the Force will listen,” Yoda chuckled. “A child of the Force, is he?”

Master Yaddle’s grin was nearly as bright as her saber. “A child of the Temple, he is.”

Nodding, Yoda turned to Ahsoka. “Claim him, do you Knight Tano, as heir to your line?”

Obi-Wan looked up at Ahsoka, his blue eyes shining in the flickering light of the sabers and the growing dawn outside. She nodded down at him, her eyes warm. “Yes, I do.”

Her own saber lit up, bright blue and humming with the Force.

“Against this bonding, does anyone speak?” Yoda turned toward Master Dyas, who shook his head.

“Against this bonding, none shall speak,” Master Dyas intoned with a flourish of his blade.

“Agree to this, do you, Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Yoda asked the boy standing before him, his eyes narrowed in thought.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, Masters. I pledge myself to Knight Tano and her teachings. I pledge myself to the Jedi Order and the Force, to which we are all a servant of.”

“Woven together, the two must be,” Yoda said and Ahsoka handed her saber to Plo Koon before she stepped behind Obi-Wan and pulled out a lock of hair thick enough to make a proper Padawan’s tail and then a braid. A droid emerged from a darkened corner, helpfully shearing Obi-Wan of the thick coppery locks that until now had hung down over his blue-grey eyes like a curtain hiding the boy from the world.

“Master,” Obi-Wan whispered as Ahsoka worked at his little braid. “I… I have these. I… I thought you might have worn some like them.”

Ahsoka glanced down at the silka beads in Obi-Wan’s grasp, small pale things that seemed out of place in his trembling hands. She felt a warm rush of love wash over her and she took them from Obi-Wan’s hand. “Thank you, my Padawan.”

As the droid made quick work of Obi-Wan’s hair, Ahsoka carefully threaded the three beads onto the end of his braid before tying them off with a small blue thread. His braid barely brushed the tops of his shoulder but it was there and as the sun began to climb over the horizon, Ahsoka stepped back to her position and reclaimed her saber from Plo Koon.

The sky turned from lavender to pink and gold as Yoda finished the ceremony, the room glowing brighter with each word. “Luminous beings are we, bound together in the Force. Follow its will, you must. Teach each other, you will. Together you walk, on the path the Force has chosen. Master and Padawan you are, Ahsoka Tano and Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

And with that the rest of the Council ignited their blades and held them up to salute the new pair, who stood side by side as a new dawn arose over Coruscant, bright and golden, chasing away the last dark clouds and shadows of the night that had gone before it.

To be continued... April 2nd.

#Tano and Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Qui-Gon Jinn #Mace Windu #Yoda #Shaak Ti #Star Wars #star wars fanfiction #Bigger than life and twice as Snippy #Someone you don't want to mess with #The Most Problematic Glacier in the Galaxy #Jedi Master Shaft #The Green Troll #IT'S DONE!#WHOHOOHOOOO!#TANO AND KENOBI SEASON ONE IS DONE!#CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE #Ahsoka looking into Senator Palpatine's activities is a direct reference/Homage to #Elfpen's Reprise fic #This entire chapter was written to Guardian of the Whills Suite and the Force Theme #I recommend listening to the Guardian of the Whills for the ceremony #They're together!#They're adorable!#THEY'RE GETTING WAFFLES AND ICE CREAM SUNDAES!#Also a reference to #hellsbellssinclub #and her wonderful fic #Across the Stars #AHSOKA AND OBI-WAN ARE GOING TO BE THE MOST AWESOME MASTER-PADAWAN PAIR SINCE OBI-WAN AND ANAKIN!

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