#Republic Day Poster Maker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

velidewrites · 11 months

Text

When the senator of Chandrila’s debts catch up with him at last, the Galactic Empire places a bounty on his daughter’s head. But Elain Archeron is cunning, and she will not go down without a fight—certainly not to the handsome Mandalorian hunter, intent on claiming his prize.

Notes: Part 1/2 of my contribution to Day 7: AU of @elucienweekofficial! Dedicated to @melting-houses-of-gold who patiently listened to my ramblings about this fic <3

Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars, Mandalorian Bounty Hunter!Lucien x Bounty!Elain

Warnings: None (filthy smut in part 2 as I am once again unable to write porn without feelings)

Read on AO3

Part 1

The ship is disturbingly loud.

Elain doesn’t know much about spacecraft, but the sputtering hum of her H-Type Nubian’s engines is concerning enough that she imagines anyone else in her position would feel unsettled. She should have expected the complications—she’d been warned about them, in fact—but she still shifts in her seat uncomfortably.

The yacht has been borrowed to her by Vassa, the former queen of Naboo and a longtime friend—and, for the past four years, a senator within the ranks of the Galactic Empire. Vassa herself had not been present on Naboo during Elain’s stay, called away by what she called a sham of a voting in the Senate, but her people had been informed in advance well enough to take care of the entire process.

Elain Archeron is being smuggled.

It is precisely why she’s been lent the H-Type. The ship is pre-Empire, which means it will—it should—fly under the radar, staying off the Empire’s scopes. It’s not that Elain is a fugitive—not yet, at least—but she has no doubt the Chandrilan government will alert the Senate of her disappearance once they realise Lord Archeron’s daughter has escaped. She isn’t important enough to have Destroyers sent after her, but Elain has never been one to take her chances. Especially not on a day like this.

Especially not on her wedding day.

She has been putting it off since the day she turned fifteen, and it was only the love Lord Archeron supposedly bore for his daughter that kept Elain from an arrangement to be put in place immediately afterwards, as per the Chandrilan custom. Now, though, at twenty-three…Elain had run out of excuses.

The message arrived while she was on Naboo, spending the summer with Vassa as she did nearly every year. A holo-recording of Senator Archeron happily announced her engagement to Graysen Nolan, the only son of Governor Nolan—perhaps the single richest man on Chandrila, Elain’s own family not even coming close in wealth. This will be good for us, Elain, her father said. Finally, the tide turns favourably in our direction.

Elain was not inclined to agree.

Vassa, thank the Maker, had helped her put the plan in motion almost immediately, arranging for safe, undercover passage to the Outer Rim through one of the old hyperspace lanes, abandoned by the Republic during the Clone War. Her intel claimed the route to be safe enough to pass through undetected, which, for Elain, was more than enough.

Graysen Nolan is not old or, superficial as it may be, unattractive by any means. He is quite handsome actually and, as her father so vehemently assured her, quite ridiculously wealthy—but the twenty-eight year old man has a flaw.

He’s an Imperial.

Elain would never dare voice it out loud—in the eyes of the Empire, she is all but a loyal subject, a pretty face to put on Chandrila’s posters and nothing more. But deep down, in a place deep and uncharted like the Wild Space itself, Elain despises them with her whole, insignificant being.

The Senator does not share his daughter’s sentiment, of course—he is a loyalist through and through. It’s what made Elain despise him, too—despise the coward hiding behind expensive gestures and grand speeches. The coward who’d chosen the Empire over his family.

Over the two daughters it had taken from him.

Elain closes her eyes and rests the back of her head against the yacht’s sleek wall, the cool metal doing nothing to ease the pain of the memory. The ship shakes slightly as it charts the course into hyperspace, sending tremors into her bones where it comes into contact with her body. This is one of the crafts with strong deflector shields, Elain reminds herself. As long as they manage to avoid the asteroid field, they will be fine. Probably.

The ship sputters again, and, once again, doubt washes over her in a surging wave. This is probably the fourth or fifth time in the past hour that she’s reconsidered this whole ordeal, the very first one nearly sending her into cardiac arrest as she first saw the ship, the once glistening silver now rusted and peeling off in certain places, as though damaged by battle. It probably was. Elain can’t even begin to count how many attacks on her life Vassa had endured during the Clone War, the controversial Senator constantly the subject of immense interest to the now-extinct Separatist leaders.

She looks around the space, the air suddenly tight. She knows this is going to work—has been assured of it a hundred times—and yet, for some reason, dread continues to build in her chest all the same. Through the wide viewport of the cockpit, even the stars seem to flicker in warning.

“Are we clear?” she asks the pilot nervously.

The pilot, a man Vassa has personally vouched for, half-turns to her from his chair. “We’re calculating the jump, my Lady.”

Elain shifts in her own seat. “How much longer?”

The ground shakes violently before he manages to open his mouth.

Her four guards—or Vassa’s guards, since Elain abandoned her own when she’d sneaked out from her bedchamber’s terrace—jolt upright, white-gloved hands wrapped tightly around their blasters.

“What is happening?!” Elain yells when the floor trembles again, the ship groaning loudly.

All the blood drains from the pilot’s face. “Someone docked in from below.”

Elain’s blood chills. “Impossible.” They couldn’t have realised it yet—she’d purposefully opted to run in the middle of the night, way after the Chandrilan guard conducted their security check. She expected them to find her bed empty in the morning—but not now, merely an hour after her escape.

The commander of her escort looks at his subordinate, his face tight and deep with what seems like thousands of creases. “Check out the disturbance,” he barks, the guard only nodding before he disappears from the cockpit.

“Empire?” Elain asks, the question no more than a whisper. The pilot shakes his head, looking at the beeping controls in disbelief.

“It can’t be—this ship is supposed to be invisible.”

Elain chokes on a breath. “Supposed to?”

The pilot seems breathless, too. “My Lady—”

His words are interrupted by a singular shot of blaster fire as it cuts through the air. Then, a loud thud as a body falls to the metal floor.

Elain yelps.

One of her guards grabs her by the arm, his grip tight enough to crush the veins beneath her skin. “My Lady, we must hide.”

“Escape pods?” Elain pants.

The commander’s expression looks grave. “There are none on this ship.” He looks at the entrance to the cockpit, and a ringing silence ripples through the air as they all realise the guard has not yet returned—which means the body they’d heard was likely not the intruder’s.

“Hide her,” the commander barks to his remaining two men. “Seal the entrance.” And with that, he, too, disappears between the automatic door, the sharp whoosh of it closing foreboding in a way Elain can’t quite describe.

Not a single person in the cockpit dares to utter so much as a breath as they listen in to the commander’s steps, echoing through the passageway. One second passes, then two—then three.

There is a muffled sound of struggle before the blaster is fired again, yet another thud as what is undoubtedly the commander’s body falls to the floor.

What happens next is a blur to Elain.

The pilot sucks in a breath, and the two guards begin shouting at each other, one order after another as Elain is pulled back toward the small storage space hidden under the pilot’s seat. One of the men lunges for the door, his own weapon at the ready as he aims for the control panel. Elain squeezes her eyes shut, preparing for the shot.

Except that when the shot finally comes, it does not sound from her guard’s sleek, elegant S-5—the man hadn’t even managed to raise it toward the source.

No, it comes from a different pistol, rough and heavy, a trail of smoke hissing upward as the man’s body, too, slumps onto the metal.

Elain tears her gaze off her lifeless guard to look into the eyes of his murderer.

What she finds is a face covered entirely by beskar, the silvery helmet glinting even under the dying starlight.

The Mandalorian comes into view, his powerful frame scraping against the blast door as he takes a step forward, the sound as loud as the bodies of the three men he’d killed. Elain’s breath hitches in her chest, as though afraid to so much as graze the faded green of his chest plate, the metal she recognises as durasteel—hardly comparable to the sheer strength of beskar, but enough to keep the laser-like beams from piercing his heart—something many people have tried to do, if the ashen marks staining the armour are any indication.

Elain’s own heart—one she suspects will not keep beating for long—thumps loudly in her chest as the Mandalorian man sheathes the blaster back into his belt, so many weapons strapped to its side Elain struggles to understand how he manages to walk with all that weight. He looks calm as he looks over the cockpit—over the three people still alive and waiting for his next move. Elain cannot explain how she knows this—but she swears she can feel his gaze pinned on her, even with his face hidden behind a black, T-shaped visor.

“Stand down, Mandalorian,” the last of her Nubian guards orders loudly, his blaster pointed straight at the masked warrior.

Elain feels his eyes drift away from her face, like a magnet releasing its hold as he looks over the guard with nothing more than an angle of his head. The man actually squirms under his scrutiny.

“I said,” he repeated, no longer able to hide the slight tremor in his throat, “stand down.”

To Elain’s complete shock, the leather-clad hand hovering above his belt falls loosely down his side. The guard, too, seems to release a breath. “This is a diplomatic mission you have disrupted,” he says. “You will be reported to the Guild—”

“I’m not with the Guild,” the response cuts in. It makes Elain shiver—his voice is low and deep, the helmet’s vocoder modulating it slightly, making it seem like a gravelly rumble from his throat.

Once the shiver passes through her spine, the Mandalorian’s words register. If he isn’t with the Guild…

“Hand her over,” he orders. “Now.” One word—deadly. He does not seem like the man to revel in hiding his threats.

The guard gulps, sensing it, too. To his credit, he still manages to tell him, “We will not.”

The Mandalorian’s vocoder sounds with a low hum, the sound seeping a scorching fire into her bones. “My orders are to leave witnesses,” he finally says, his metal-clad body entirely still like a predator fixed on his prey. “It’s a shame I happen to be forgetful sometimes.”

Elain’s heart threatens to stumble out of her chest. He came here for her, and the men sent to protect her—Vassa’s men—do not need to die trying to protect her from the inevitable.

It’s just her luck, Elain thinks bitterly, that the one and only time she’s ever tried to rebel, she has to be hunted by one of the most ruthless warriors in the galaxy. The Mandalorians are known for their violent ways and brutal efficiency—they are, after all, one of the Empire’s most loyal subjects, having allied themselves with Emperor Koschei the moment he came into power.

Since it isn’t the Guild, then, it must be the Empire who have sent this bounty hunter after her, which could only mean two things: her plot to escape her impending marriage had been discovered by Governor Nolan much earlier than she’d expected, or…

Or Father was in a lot more trouble than he'd originally made it out to be.

“It’s okay,” Elain breathes, placing a palm on the guard’s arm. “It’s okay—I’ll go with him.”

The guard shakes his head vehemently. “No—you can’t my Lady, we have been ordered—”

“It’s okay,” she repeats, then squeezes his shoulder. “Lower your weapon.” She turns to the Mandalorian. “I’m going to walk towards you now. Do not hurt those men.”

The bounty hunter does not move, and so Elain takes this as his agreement.

She takes a half-step—then another, crossing the space on shaky legs. She’s almost there—has almost reached that magnetic presence of his when she hears a light swoosh, and a click of metal.

“Lady Elain, duck!” the guard shouts, and fires his blaster.

Elain whirls back just in time to see him sink to his knees, his mouth agape, the hole in his chest sizzling with that same, smoky trail. She shrieks, running back toward yet another man who’d given his life to keep her safe—when a tight, steady grip on her wrists holds her back. “No more tricks, sweetheart,” his warning comes purring as her back hits the hard steel at his chest. Elain whips to face him again, anger stinging hotly at her eyes. “You said you needed witnesses!”

His helmet moves an inch as he seemingly glances at the pilot cowering in his seat behind her. “One is more than enough.” He jerks his chin at the trembling man. “Deliver the message to the Senator. He has seven rotations.”

Elain starts, “Do not—” but her words are cut short as the Mandalorian yanks her back. “Where are you taking me?” she breathes, her attention transfixed on the rough feel of his leather gloves against her bare skin. “Answer me right now, or I will not follow you anywhere—”

His steps come to a stop so abruptly she nearly slams face-first into his back. Slowly, he turns to look at her, silence passing through them in a tremor before he asks lowly, “No?”

Elain swallows. Hard. “No,” she says, accepting that the word might mean her death.

To her surprise, the Mandalorian lets go, crossing his arms over his chest instead, the silver vambraces clanking against each other with the movement. “Look, sweetheart,” he says, the nickname already making a flaming anger stir in the pit of her stomach, “the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: you either come willingly, or I make you.”

Elain grits her teeth stubbornly. “If you want to collect on your bounty, you’ll have to bring me in alive.”

His hands brace at his hips as he cocks his head to the side, and though the black of his visor is nearly impenetrable, Elain swears she saw a flicker of a smirk. “Lucky for me, my orders weren’t that specific.”

Elain’s blood chills.

“So what’s it gonna be,” he pauses, a hint of mockery in his modulated tone as he adds, “my Lady?”

Elain considers.

If Nesta were here, she would have opposed the Mandalorian without a shadow of a doubt, the cold venom in her words perhaps enough to melt through the beskar itself. But Elain had never been much like her elder sister—and so she thinks of Feyre.

Her heart clenches at the memory of her name, but Elain does not linger—instead, she listens to her sister’s voice the way she remembers it—calm and wise, far too knowing for a seventeen year old Padawan—and yet still unmistakably Feyre’s, blue-grey eyes twinkling with mischief as she spoke. Don’t worry, Elain, she had told her four years ago, they won’t see us coming.

No, Feyre, Elain silently agrees now, a plan already forming in her head. He won’t.

She points at the circular opening in the floor—at the ladder to the ship docked directly beneath. “Lead the way.”

—

Elain finds herself in the cockpit of yet another crumbling ship.

The Razor Crest is even older than the H-Type, the model predating the Clone War by at least four years. She supposes the advantage of staying off the scopes is worth it, though right now, she can’t possibly imagine why the Mandalorian working clearly on the Empire’s paycheck would ever need to avoid it.

She sits a breath’s distance behind him, watching as those leather-clad fingers press so many controls her mind begins to spin as they shoot into hyperspace, the blue-white blur of stars blending together a sight beautiful enough to appreciate even in Elain’s current predicament. The ship is fast, too, no doubt tweaked with improvements over the years. She wonders how long the Mandalorian has owned it, frowning as she realises she doesn’t even know how old the bounty hunter is.

She doesn’t even know his face, let alone his name. She would’ve guessed a bounty hunter of his skill would be renowned all the way to the Outer Rim. “What’s your name?” she asks him, curiosity getting the better of her.

He ignores her question entirely.

Elain huffs. “It is rude to ignore a lady, you know.”

No response.

That familiar frustration stirs inside her again. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to simply call you Mandalorian.” Her lip curls. “Or just Mando, perhaps—”

He turns back to her at that, and Elain realises triumphantly that she’d struck a nerve. “You are not to call me anything,” he tells her gruffly. “And besides,” his seat squeaks slightly and he turns to face the viewport again, “Something tells me that you are no lady.”

Her eyes dig into his back, and Elain sure wishes she could will a burning fire into them right now. When she realises it’s a futile effort, she asks, “Where am I to sleep?”.

“Here.”

“Here?” she frowns, looking at the chair, already groaning under her weight. “Where are you taking me?”

There is a brief pause—as if he’s considering how much he can really tell her. Then, “Chandrila.”

Elain’s eyes widen. “Chandrila?”

There is a raspy sound coming from beneath his helmet that Elain can only take for a chuckle. “I’m not taking you home, sweetheart. Sorry to disappoint.”

Elain squints. “So he does have manners after all.” When her hope of hearing a retort fades away, she asks again, “How long before we get there?”

“Too long.”

“Are you always this infuriating?”

He simply chuckles again.

Elain leans back into her seat. “I’m going to need a change of clothes,” she announces.

A glimmer of surprise passes through the space between them—as if whatever the Mandalorian was expecting, it was decidedly not this. “What?”

“I have to change,” Elain repeats, making a point of gesturing to her Naboo-fashioned gown as he turns to face her again. Then, doing her best to sound as bratty as he surely expects her to be—as everyone expects her to be—she says, “Travelling in these is uncomfortable.”

She looks into his visor, which seems to stare at her blankly. “You can’t be serious,” he then says.

Elain tilts her chin up in challenge. “Have you ever worn a gown, Mandalorian?”

“You know I haven’t,” he grumbles darkly.

“Then you have no right to tell me what’s comfortable and what isn’t. These fabrics are heavy—”

“Beskar is heavy,” he cuts in.

Elain stumbles over a breath, irritated less that he’s thrown her off her track, but more that the bastard Mandalorian is right.

Still, she presses, “You’re a Mandalorian, and I’m not. I demand we stop on the nearest planet so that I may—” she hovers a hand over her form, “adapt to the situation at hand.” She angles her head. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to attract any attention now, would you? I am a Senator’s daughter, after all.”

For a moment, the bounty hunter says nothing, simply leaning back in his seat as he assesses her. She tries not to shift under the stare she knows lurks beneath the helmet, her mind for some reason wondering if his eyes are the same green—or silver, perhaps—as his armour. She immediately dismisses the idea, though—he burns far too hot for his gaze not to blaze with that heat in some capacity. Not that she particularly cares—Elain has simply never had the chance to speak to a Mandalorian before, and those that she had seen had not seemed to share this one’s sentiment to stay perpetually hidden beneath the beskar.

She decides to flat out ask him, then—if only to satisfy that strange curiosity in her chest—when he surprises her again. “Alright,” he says, his visor seemingly focused on the thick folds of her gown. “We’ll make a stop.” Then, he adds, his voice rumbling with warning, “But no tricks, sweetheart. You won’t be able to escape me that easily.”

Elain has to bite back a smile. We’ll see.

—

A mechanically distorted cough stirs her from sleep.

“We’re landing up on Llanic,” he announces, and walks away.

Elain sits up, her back straining from the worn-out leather of her chair, the heavy dress not helping it at all. She curses herself—and not for the first time—for not thinking to wear something allowing more flexibility as she’d dressed in Vassa’s estate. Though, Elain now supposes, that same gown is the only reason she now has the opportunity to escape.

Soon enough, the Mandalorian lowers the Razor Crest onto a landing platform. Despite its proximity to Naboo, Llanic looks nothing like the planet’s vibrant, ethereal ecosystem. Everything here seems dull and grey—even the people opting for garments of pale blues and sulking whites as they move around the settlement.

“Llanic is the smugglers’ den,” the Mandalorian explains, as though reading the thoughts from Elain’s face. “All of this,” he waves a hand, gesturing to the view ahead as they step out of the ship, “is to help them stay out of sight.”

Elain looks to her own dress, the deep amethyst standing out almost ridiculously, already drawing more than a few pairs of eyes. The shiny Mandalorian at her side, Elain thinks with a sigh, certainly does not help.

The last thing she wants is the attention of more criminals.

“We need to get you a change of clothes quickly,” he mutters, making Elain look up at him with a smirk. “I told you—” she starts, but he’s already begun to walk off the platform, his gruff, “No time” her only invitation to follow along.

Her eyes scan her surroundings quickly, noting a cantina farther out back, already humming with a strange music she doesn’t recognise. He leads them left, though, toward what seems to be the market—one crowded enough that Elain can’t help but loose a breath of relief.

It should be easy to get rid of him here, Elain thinks. If, of course, she is quick enough.

Feyre would have thought this to be no more than an adventure. Elain smiles, the thought pouring a surge of courage into her chest.

They stop at an Ithorian merchant’s stand, one of the largest ones on the stony street, as he grumbles something to a bartering customer. Elain begins to fumble through his selection, her mind already tracking her route of escape. She’ll find some other, proper clothes later—the only purpose of these is to serve as her distraction.

She picks up a matching set of a top and trousers of dusted ivory, and a beige poncho to supposedly help her blend in. She’ll have to pick out something similar later if she truly is to disappear.

Elain is already side-eyeing the cantina, the copular structure practically calling out her name far at the street’s end. Perhaps she’ll be able to find a transfer there—someone to get her off-world and, hopefully, as far away from the infuriating Mandalorian and the Empire as possible

A warm, heavy presence appears beside her, and she chucks the clothes into the bounty hunter’s hands. He only stares back, confusion rolling off of him in waves.

She can’t help but snicker. “You’re impossible.”

“I…don’t understand.”

Elain huffs. “Well, my apologies if I forgot to remember to bring my credits as I was being kidnapped,” she sputters, the word making the elderly couple behind the Mandalorian turn to face her with a frown.

“Be more quiet now, would you,” the Mandalorian growls, the sound a deep rumble from his chest.

Elain narrows her gaze. “Just go buy these, yeah?”

He chuckles at the apparent drop in formalities, though his voice remains firm as he reminds her, “Don’t move until I’m back.”

She smiles sweetly, motioning to the streets around her. “Where else would I go?”

He seems to agree well enough, because the Mandalorian soon disappears between the hanging layers of cloth as he moves towards the Ithorian seller. When the familiar glint of beskar vanishes out of her sight, Elain turns and begins to run.

The amethyst dress and the tightness in her back is a strain on her speed, but the adrenaline surging through her is enough to keep her legs moving swiftly. Not for the very first time, Elain wishes she had the lithe speed and remarkable strength both of her sisters have always displayed, their movements carefully supported by the Force.

The thought leaves her as quickly as it arrived as Elain makes a sharp turn, pivoting into a darkened alleyway that she hopes will discreetly lead her to the back wall of the cantina. Her steps slow, as though the silent darkness compelled them to do so—and Elain quickly looks around, letting herself take a breath before she continues on again.

“Not so fast, princess,” a low, hissing voice sounds behind her.

Elain’s feet freeze into the ground.

“Don’t be afraid,” it croons, stepping in closer. “It will all be over soon.”

Elain’s breath quickens.

The man, unmistakably a Trandoshan, slithers beside her, his scaled, greenish skin finally coming into view—but it’s not his appearance Elain finds her gaze glued to, but the long, heavy Mortar Gun resting in his large hands as he points it directly at her face.

“Sssuch a shame,” he muses. “To ruin such a pretty face. But I find myself in a desssperate need of credits, you sssee.” He angles his scaly head, yellow eyes narrowing on her. “The Empire is paying quite the sum for you, little princess. If it was any lower…I might have taken some time to play with you firssst.”

“A shame indeed,” a voice agrees somewhere behind him. “Unfortunately, your time seems to have run out.”

A single shot booms through the air before the Trandoshan evaporates into dust.

A Mandalorian—her Mandalorian, Elain realises—stands a few metres behind where the reptilian bounty hunter stood a moment ago, a forked sniper rifle Elain had never seen before still pointed at the dissipating dust.

“Where did you get that?” Elain breathed. Has he been carrying that weapon this whole time? Could he have turned her into…into this?

He shrugs. “Had it lying around.”

He reaches her in a few quick strides, his head dipping as he appears to be sweeping his gaze over her, assessing. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

Elain shakes her head, her body slowly moving out of stillness. “No.” She clears her throat, begging the Force to bring clarity into her voice. “Thank you,” she rasps, then sighs, exasperated. The Force had never seemed to be her ally, anyways. “I’m…sorry for running.”

He hums. “I knew you would try something eventually. You got lucky.”

Elain blinks. “You would call this—” she gestures to the Trandoshan bounty hunter’s remains spread out over the stone ground, “—lucky?”

He nods, strapping the rifle to his back in one, swift movement. “There are others out there who would not hesitate to kill you on sight. I’d say,” he adds, “you got more than lucky to end up with me.”

“How very fortunate,” she mutters. He only chuckles, though she feels as his gaze lands on her again. There is a pause of quiet between them before he finally asks, the voice behind the helmet softer, somehow, “Are you, though? Alright?”

Elain sighs. “Yes. I’m…” she searches for the word. Tired. Confused. Lost. “Hungry,” she decides.

Another chuckle. “Follow me.”

The cantina beams a more lively song as they enter, though Elain, despite all that thorough education she’d received, can’t seem to recognise the language. They take their seats at a booth stuck into a dim nook before a waiter approaches, his gaze shining with curiosity at the unlikely pair. “What can I get you?”

“Spotchka,” Elain sighs, earning yet another amused huff from her companion. “And—whatever your special is today.”

The man nods. “That would be the stew.”

“Perfect,” Elain says, then turns to the Mandalorian, the waiter, too, looking at him expectantly.

“That will be all,” he says tightly, his tone enough to make the waiter scatter immediately out back. Elain frowns. “Are you not going to eat?”

“No.”

“But—”

“I’m not hungry.”

Elain counters, “I have not seen you eat since you put me on that rusted old ship.”

The visor seems to glower at her. “The Crest is fine.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m not willing to discuss this, Elain.” She doesn’t think she’d ever heard his name fall from his lips.

Does he even have lips? Elain can’t help but wonder. He appears human, but beneath that armour, he really could be anyone. It’s not that she truly cares about his face—the curve of his nose or the angle of his jaw. But she wants to be able to see if his gaze burns as brightly as she’s been imagining it, like a hot, midday sun.

His tone does not invite such questions, though, so Elain gives up with a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Fine,” she says. “Tell me your name, at least.”

“No.”

“I’m sick of calling you the Mandalorian in my head.”

“Then stop thinking about me, Elain.”

She throws her arms up in exasperation. “You are impossible!”

He seems to snicker at that. “So I’ve heard.”

Elain sinks further into her seat. “Are you able to answer any of my questions, at least?”

He hums, making a show of considering. “Probably not,” he finally said, earning yet another huff from Elain. “But perhaps you can answer some of mine.”

Elain feels her brows rise. “Oh?”

He laces his fingers atop the table. “What has your father done to get the Empire to put a bounty on your head?”

That, Elain did not expect. “I thought bounty hunters were taught not to ask any questions.”

“To their clients. The bounty is a whole another story.”

“How convenient,” Elain murmurs, and, once again, she swears she can feel his smile in her chest. “Very well. If you must know, he borrowed some money—too much of it for me to even begin to describe, and all of it from the wrong people.” She chews on her bottom lip before quickly releasing it from her teeth, a sharp exhale pushing past her mouth. “It’s why my…engagement was arranged in the first place.”

“To the Governor’s son. So I’ve heard.”

“Yes, well, they had money. But look how that turned out.”

“Do you…” his helmet cocks to the side, as though from this new angle, he can read the answer simply by looking at her face. “Do you regret it?”

“No!” Elain quickly says. “Kriff, no—it’s why you found me on the Nubian instead of the planet itself. I was…” she clears her throat. “I was escaping.”

Silence falls, broken only for a moment as the waiter arrives with Elain’s food. She begins digging into the warm stew, realising the conversation has most likely come to an end, the Mandalorian seemingly gazing off into the distance.

But then, a quiet sound reaches her, so indiscernible she initially thinks she must’ve imagined it. “I’m sorry,” he says. “For disrupting your plans.”

Elain flashes him a cryptic smile. “My plans aren’t disrupted just yet.”

—

When Elain emerges from the Crest’s refresher, she finds the clothes she’d picked out at the market laid out on a new cot.

“We’re almost done refuelling,” the Mandalorian’s voice reaches her from where he leans against the ladder leading up to the cockpit.

Elain arches a brow. “What happened to not leaving your side for a moment?”

“Well, I trust you’re not reckless enough to jump out of our ship once we’re in hyperspace.”

Our ship?

Elain dismisses it as her mind playing tricks on her. “Thank you for getting these for me. Believe it or not, but that gown was uncomfortable.”

A grunt of agreement. “It sure looked like it.”

Elain takes the poncho into her hands, her palm smoothing out the fabric. “I’m sorry about nagging you earlier. I—I don’t know much about Mandalorians, I just assumed—”

“You assumed fine.” A deep sigh rattles through him as he bounces off the ladder, stepping closer toward her. “Not removing this,” he points to the shining beskar atop his head, “is my choice.”

Elain dares to ask, “Why, though?”

“Does it matter?”

Yes. No. Maybe.

No, Elain finally decides. Soon—within the next rotation or two, perhaps—the Mandalorian will hand her over to the Empire, a toy to toss over her father’s head. She’ll never have the chance to think about his face again.

Her expression must have told her enough, because his body seems to stiffen as he halts less than five feet away from her.

“Are they going to kill me?” Elain asks him openly.

Silence ripples through the air.

“The Empire doesn’t kill innocent civilians,” he says carefully. Elain can’t help but laugh. “Even if that were true, I am hardly innocent.”

He seems inclined to disagree. “Your father’s mistakes are not your own, Elain.” His words sound deeper than usual as he says them.

She shifts on her feet. “Still, I’m afraid my family’s sins are already beyond repair.” She sighs, a sudden wave of tiredness washing over her, as though the words alone were enough to make her body feel limp. “My…” she can’t say it, her throat tightening on its own as she tries. Elain simply looks away.

But then, a few shallow breaths later, a heavy weight rests on the cot beside her. “My father is the head of an…important clan back on Mandalore,” he begins to tell her quietly. “He’s not a good man—to say the least.” He clears his throat. “I have six brothers, each of them worse than the last, as if they’re all competing to see which one of them can become cruel enough to finally catch Father’s attention.”

Elain turns to look at him at that.

He continues, “I never wanted to be like them—any of them. My mother is the only good thing about my family, and she was the only one not to send bounty hunters after me when I finally left.”

Elain’s eyes widen. “You—you escaped from Mandalore?”

His laugh feels bitter. “There is no escaping from my family. I’m the youngest—not important enough for them to keep on wasting credits to drag me back, but, I suppose, a reminder annoying enough to make my life miserable for as long as they wished.” His hand flickers up for a moment, then falls back onto the cot—as if he was going to run his fingers through his hair before remembering the helmet shielding them from view. “So I cut the best deal for myself as I could—and I’ve been picking up the Empire’s dirty jobs ever since. I don’t like most of them,” he admits, “but…” the words trail off. He does not need to finish them for Elain to understand.

But I’m glad I met you.

It is why Elain tells him plainly, “My sisters were Jedi.”

The Mandalorian goes completely, breathlessly still.

Elain nods. “Traitors to the Republic,” she adds bitterly. “To the Empire. My older sister—Nesta…” she fights back tears at the memory of her icy eyes, softening whenever the two of them got to see each other. “She was—she was on Corellia when…when the Order was given. And Feyre…Feyre was at the Temple on Coruscant.” She swallows the thick words in her throat. “She was—she’s gone,” Elain finishes, unable to speak the full truth. It’s too soon—it will never not be.

Her sisters were discovered late—Feyre at six, and Nesta at ten years old, when all the other foundlings had usually come to the Temple at no older than three. But the great masters had foreseen something in the two of them—something Elain had never quite been able to understand without the Force whispering to her the way it did to her sisters. Something with the potential to change the Galaxy as they all knew it.

Whatever her sisters’ purpose was, it would never be fulfilled. It had never even been given the chance to.

“It’s how I know my father will not come for me,” Elain adds quietly. “When you hand me over to the Empire. He’d aligned himself with them when it took not one, but two of his daughters away. Now, it will take away the third.”

Once again, the ship is enveloped in silence.

It had been so long since Elain had last spoken her sisters’ names that she isn’t sure she’d even talked about them to anyone since their death. The Mandalorian is a quiet presence beside her, strong and warm even through the hardened metal encasing his body. It feels relieving to her to know that he, too, lives in accordance with the Empire’s cruelty not by choice, but by the lack of it, hoping that one day, he will be free enough to leave and never look back.

But then Elain is reminded that neither of them are free just yet—and that, while he might still be able to harbour that dream, it is already too late for Elain. That the only way for him to get a step closer toward it, he has to make sure Elain never gets to reach it herself. There is something about the irony of it all that makes her want to weep—and yet, Elain can’t bring herself to feel angry.

“I hope the Empire pays you well for all of this,” she tells him earnestly.

He turns to face her then—as much as he can with the self-imposed containment of his beskar—and perhaps it is merely wishful thinking, but, for a whisper of a moment, Elain knows with the utmost certainty that she saw a flicker of gold beneath the darkness.

His voice is quiet as he responds.

“Not nearly enough.”

—

Once again, Elain is violently ripped from sleep.

They cannot be landing already—Elain can swear they’ve only just left Llanic’s atmosphere, her face hitting the cot the moment the Crest’s navicomputer was programmed and the stars blurred into a singular light again. Chandrila is still a long journey ahead, at least two, if not three more refuelling stops since the Crest is unable to withstand such a distance on a single tank.

They aren’t landing, Elain understands as the last remnants of her sleep sharpen into reality—into the loud, flaring sound echoing off the ship’s tight space. Into the red light blazing on and off, illuminating her shaky hands as the realisation finally sinks.

The Crest is under attack.

Elucien Week Taglist: @melting-houses-of-gold @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @screaming-opossum @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers @starfall-spirit @lectoradefics @this-is-rochelle @goldenmagnolias @labellefleur-sauvage @bookeater34 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627 @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune

#breaking news: velidewrites can't write a one-shot to save her life #breaking in the sense that we been knew #elucienweek2023 #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #elain acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #elucien fic #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing

33 notes · View notes

mlwritersguild · 1 year

Text

Common Ground, by @bugchat

Based on a prompt submitted by @empressofall: star wars holiday special au

AO3; Fluff & Angst, Star Wars/Mandalorian AU, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Kidnapping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing

Summary:

Adrien Agreste is starting to get really tired of all these formal Empire-organised dinners and meetings, so when he gets instructed to be a courier that gets to go outside for a bit, he happily obliges. Little does he know his cargo is very important, and many people are after it. How does he fare, faced with past mistakes, a planet destroyed, and an enemy unknowingly after his cargo?

---

THE GALA

“For the love of the Maker, Adrien, stand up straight. The Moff’s here tonight, we need to look presentable .”

Adrien and his father walked through the halls just after the initial security checkpoint outside, dreary gray metallic slabs reflecting the harsh white lights from above. It cast harsh shadows into his father’s face, deep-set eyes completely vanishing in the dark. Not that Adrien often got the pleasure of having them look at him anyway. The only time those eyes saw him is when Gabriel passed a propaganda poster with Adrien’s face on it, smiling a fake smile and making false promises.

That light had vanished long ago.

The second checkpoint was already a bit more formal looking, with it being near the main halls where the internal official people went. The deeper one went into the core of the building, the more pretentious it got. Adrien supposed his father belonged right in the middle of it.

The stormtroopers had a few blue squares on their insignia, so they had to be quite high-ranked. For stormtroopers, that is. They didn’t dare ask his father for ID when they saw his 6 yellow ones.

“Please step through.”

Adrien wasn’t wearing his.

The weapons detector beeped at him in synch with the security droid next to it, and he stepped to the other side to be handed back his ID cylinder. Like they needed that to run his chain code these days. “Happy birthday, Sir.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s…” The stormtrooper paused, slightly shook their head, and dropped the cylinder into Adrien’s gloved palm before saluting and turning back around. “Have a good evening, Sirs.”

Adrien turned to just watch his father break his disapproving stare at him. “How coherent of you.”

Gabriel waltzed on, briefcase completely still in his right hand. Adrien blinked and turned to the stormtrooper, but they were already tending to the next guests arriving. He had to walk quite fast to catch back up, since running wasn’t exactly an option, and joined on his father’s left side. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be better.”

“Of course, Father.”

The troopers at the door parted for them and let them enter the main central hall. Adrien still wondered how the “defeated” Empire managed to rent out one of the biggest buildings on Coruscant without raising suspicion, but those questions were better left unasked by someone of his rank. For now, he had to blend in as well as stand out, however much he wanted to disappear.

The central hall was near-circular and had a high glass roof, with a giant chandelier hanging from the middle of the dome. The architecture had to be Old Republic, with its golden accents. The New Republic didn’t have money for all that during the war, and the Empire definitely didn’t bother with such things. The halls, however, had to have been renovated in the last few years, with the–

“General Agreste.”

Adrien bowed very curtly before stepping behind his father and taking the briefcase from his right hand. He held it tightly, unmoving as he had seen his father do. The contents were unknown to him, but the man before him seemed to know. He eyed the briefcase with unrestricted eagerness and greed, even as he shook Gabriel’s hand. He was higher ranked, so he could. The plaque on his armor told Adrien that much.

He didn’t bother with the rankings all that much, but two blue and four yellow squares were high. Maybe an Admiral? Or…

“Ah, Moff–”

Oh . A moff . Not as high a title as Grand Admiral, but above his father’s rank. He probably had his own cruiser orbiting the planet right now. Sweat was already gathering on his back and in his hands as he met the Moff’s inquisitive gaze.

“Adrien,” his father turned to him and gestured with his right hand to two black-dressed individuals, “go with these stormtroopers and deliver the briefcase to the transport. You return to me as soon as it is leaving. Is that clear?”

‘Crystal.’

“Yes, Father.”

---

THE DEPARTURE

They were tall, didn’t look at him, and went whether he was beside them or not. Droid stormtroopers. Robotic legs gave them away, along with their heavy reverberating footsteps on the metal of the halls. They weaved through the back halls, probably to a secluded exit, and exited into the brisk night.

It was a shame Coruscant had those climate controls installed so long ago. Adrien longed for the cold sting of snow right around now. Just to get out of this meaningless cycle of propaganda parties, galas, formal dinners, and business meetings. He longed for the shadows cast by those lights, to disappear into them, never to be seen again.

As if his footsteps were obscured by snowfall.

The guard on his left tripped.

The sound made Adrien jump, whirling to face that direction as he stepped backward. The guard on his right was now engaged, gun raised and eyes gleaming red. The left trooper tried to get up but failed halfway, dropping back down heavily. As the right stormtrooper bent down to check what was stopping him, Adrien was grabbed from behind. He managed to exclaim just before his mouth was covered, and the guards heard him. His assailant cursed and let go of him, instead shooting a blaster at the stormtrooper.

The shot bounced off.

Another curse from behind him, and Adrien finally remembered to drop and cover his head before his guards returned fire. He clutched the briefcase to his chest and started crawling back to the exit they came from. It was closed, tightly sealed, but at least there would be some cover and a camera to at least get a glimpse of the attacker should he get taken.

He was surprised at how rational his thought process was despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The assassin was too fast for Adrien to get a good glimpse at. They moved too smoothly from one place to another in the dark parts of the little yard. And they were good . One of the guards was still down, feet tied together with something. The attacker’s blaster fire had ceased and they were now merely moving around the guards. Getting closer and closer until they were close enough to–

Fire burst from their arm, creating a wave of heat that washed over Adrien. The light made him squint, unable to follow. When the fire ceased, one of the troopers had deactivated, now laying limp on the ground. The other seemed to be frozen, unmoving with its back turned to Adrien.

It dropped, a vibroblade protruding from its chassis. The assailant bent over the deactivated droid, pulled the blade free in one motion, and resheathed it on their thigh.

Adrien clutched the briefcase further into his chest, feet scrabbling for grip on the slightly damp ground, and stared up from where he was squished against the closed hangar doors. His stupid officer uniform boots didn’t have any grip, and the slightly brown color didn't help him blend in against the brightly lit off-white walls. The walls, behind his back and three feet on either side of him. Locking him in.

So much for rational thinking.

The assailant had stepped over the dropped stormtrooper and was slowly marching toward Adrien. He could merely gape, tears leaking from his eyes, as they stepped into the light.

A Mandalorian.

He had just stepped out of the Coruscanti building of the Empire, dressed in his best clothes, the newest trooper droids on either side of him, with a briefcase in his hands, on the anniversary of a holiday within the Empire; the initiation of the Great Purge of Mandalore.

He was going to die.

“Please, make it quick,” he begged, closing his eyes. “And leave me for my father so he can bury me. Please–”

“ Get up.”

“...What?”

“Get up!” they hissed, voice warped through the modulator of their helmet as they stepped closer and waved their arm. “Get up now, take the briefcase, and stay right in front of me.”

Adrien scrabbled against the slick ground and managed to get his feet planted. He rose quickly and darted out in front of the Mandalorian, who immediately put the nozzle of their blaster into his spine.

The sweat on his back was like a waterfall.

“To the right outside the gates, and then the first ship on the left. Keep moving and act normal .”

“I-I’ll try .”

Just one foot in front of the other. Over the gray ground, through the gates, around the corner, up the ramp, into the wall of the hold. He kept his head forward and eyes down, trying to walk at the right pace the Mandalorian wanted from him. The ship lifted off smoothly enough and was in hyperspace in no time. Strange, with the hyperspace lanes being under strict security protocols. Maybe they had someone on the inside..?

The Mandalorian came back into the hold from the cockpit with their blaster trained between his eyes. “What’s in the briefcase? Classified documents? Analytical reports? A weapon?”

“I don’t know,” he rushed, trying to press himself even further into the wall. “He never told me. He just said to deliver it to a ship out back and then to return to him inside. I have no idea what’s inside.”

They stepped closer, their right hand now free from the blaster, extending toward him. He moved slowly but steadily, lifting the case into their gloved palm. He held his hands up as they walked backward, away from an immediate attack. Not like he knew how to even strike someone that armored. Chestplate, helmet, pauldrons, vambraces with weapons within, thigh guards, steel-toed boots. Every piece was painted red, dented from attacks, scratched from vibroblades.

He didn’t stand a chance.

They opened the briefcase slowly and carefully, checking for secret security measures as they did. It was nice to know they cared enough to not let them both explode, but Adrien was sure he was about to combust with the tension in the hold. Nowhere to run, hyperspace didn’t allow for any escape pods to be used during travel, and the fact that they were in a lane didn’t help either.

The case snapped shut, startling him. The Mandalorian had grabbed whatever was inside and was now holding a weapon against his throat. It buzzed and crackled, but he was unable to drag his eyes away from their helmet. All Adrien could see from the corner of his eye was black. The Mandalorian’s voice was low when they next spoke, filled with hurt, rage, and the desire to slash his throat.

“How did you come to be in the possession of the Darksaber?”

He was going to kill his father.

---

THE SWORD

The Mandalorian had been in the cockpit for a while, which had left Adrien alone with his thoughts in the cargo hold. A small droid, also painted red, was watching him from the other side of the room, occasionally beeping at him. The tension had left his muscles ages ago when it became clear the Mandalorian wasn’t planning on murdering him just yet. After the unspoken accusations, they had resheathed the blade and had started pacing the hold for a good while before instructing the small droid to keep an eye on him. And that’s all that had happened in the last few hours.

Hyperspace was funny like that.

Adrien had sagged against the wall, hands empty, staring at the opened case that was thrown across the room. The black protective material stared back from inside, the shape of the handle exactly cut out to fit the weapon. How long had his father had possession of it? What was he planning? The Moff probably knew what was inside, and that’s why he had been staring at it so intently. But what did he want with it? And more importantly, why ?

Mandalorian history was quite familiar to Adrien. His father always insisted it was important to know one’s enemy. And not just war tactics and weaponry. Culture, art, and philosophies as well. He remembered the first time he saw a video of Grand Admiral Thrawn saying those exact words many years ago. Figures, that his father’s one mission was a stolen concept.

The reason the Mandalorians were their enemies had always been clear to him. They were warriors, strong ones, unwilling to cooperate with the Empire. The Mandalorians had had a lot of internal conflicts and civil wars, resulting in many factions and interpretations of the original Creed. But there was one common factor among them all: the Darksaber. When won in combat, one would become the Mand’alor. King of Mandalore. The Darksaber had been lost during the Great Purge, where Bo-Katan Kryze had lost it during an attack. Adrien had figured it had been destroyed, as had many others. A legend lost to the sands of the now desolate planet.

And he had held it in his very hand.

The doors to the cockpit opened and the Mandalorian stepped out, head held high and hands behind their back. The light from hyperspace lit them from behind, creating an intimidating shadow on the ground. They looked absolutely powerful. The small droid glided back over to them and slid back into its compartment in the side of the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“Talk.”

That was probably the smart thing to do.

“I was given the case to be delivered to the shuttle of a Moff attending the gala. The black Stormtroopers were assigned to protect me by the Moff himself. I had no idea of its contents, let alone—“ The significance. He knew. The way his father only held it in his right, still strong arm. How the Moff had eyed it. The high rank of the escort. The fact that he had to deliver it instead of the usual delivery squads at galas. He was a fool.

“Why did you get to deliver it?”

“Because I’m the General’s son.”

Silence.

The Mandalorian stepped forward, blaster now in hand. “Show me your plaque.”

Adrien slowly stuck his hand in his pocket and took out the magnetized plate. Five yellow, one red. Operations Colonel. Only one rank below his father. Not that he deserved it. Nor did he want it.

“Operations Colonel,” they said, turning it over in their palm. They closed their hand around it in a fist, head whipping back up to him. “Did you have anything to do with the Purge?”

“Maker no, when they attacked I was fifteen .”

“So was I!” they said, lowering their blaster as they started waving. The sudden outburst startled Adrien, making him push back against the wall once again. “When your people attacked my home, my family , I had to hide. I wanted to fight, defend my system, but—“ Their voice left them for a moment, and they cleared their throat. “I lost everything because of the Empire. Many of my people died, and we had to run. Because the Empire is ruthless and fights dirty. And now, I find one of the people that killed mine, carrying part of my heritage without even knowing what it means!”

Adrien knew what it meant. How significant that weapon was to them.

“I had no idea I had it. That anyone had it. If I had known—“

“You would’ve returned it, sure.”

“Well, I might’ve at least tried !” The back of his mind was screaming at him to calm down, to appear small, to not be a threat. But if they could rant away their problems at him, so could he. “I’ve tried to get out, multiple times! Those stormtroopers were not only to protect that sword, they were there to keep me contained! I’ve tried running. I’ve tried stealing a shuttle. I’ve tried faking my death. Nothing is good enough, because I symbolize the Empire. To most people, I am the face they put next to the name. As if I am the Empire itself!”

His chest was heaving as he finished, hand dropping back down to his side. He was standing. Maker, why was he standing? Kidnapped 101, 10 years old, always comply with whoever took you so they leave you alive. Unless it’s giving out information about the Empire, your mission, or anything that could jeopardize the cause. When that happened, you had to take care of yourself. Take out yourself.

Maybe he deserved it.

“Whether I like it or not, I am Empire.”

Adrien was taller than the Mandalorian.

The refresher was behind him, feet already halfway back through the hold, when the Mandalorian spoke. “Why would you work for them?” Adrien glared at the ground, hands clenched at his side, glad they couldn’t see his face from back in the doorway of the cockpit. “Follow their rules? Why would you affiliate yourself with these people, whose only purpose is to hurt others?”

They were pretty short, even. He towered above them, at least a whole head, maybe more, even with their thick-soled boots and helmet. They upped him in pure muscle mass, though, even with their height difference. In a fight, he would never stand a chance against a trained armored warrior. He probably would still lose if they had no armor or weapons at all.

“It’s all I’ve ever been told,” he said to the floor. “I grew up hearing how great the Empire was, how it strived for peace across the galaxy. I knew violence when I was young, and hearing sweet promises of calm and order every day makes you want to believe. Until eventually, you do.” Adrien took a deep breath, letting all that resentment and spite leave his body. “But, when it gets… closer , suddenly, that suffering is real. Not just nameless numbers in reports I kept sneaking glances at, but people . I could see the pain in their eyes. Like the light had dimmed. And it was awful . Husks of what they once must’ve been.”

His entire being told him this was wrong, to try to justify his loyalties to a tyrannic government against a victim of that system. But…was he not a victim too?

It was silly, how casually the Mandalorian was standing. Like they had decided he wasn’t a physical threat. A correct assessment he agreed with, however much he was tempted to deny it.

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

“How?” he said, turning his head to look into the void of their visor. “How can anyone expect me to leave my only family, all I’ve ever known, stability and order, for the chaos that is the galaxy? How can I, when I am always watched, observed, en ensure I can’t move? I became the face of the hidden Empire! Anyone loyal to the Empire knows who I am! I could never leave. Even if I had the guts to do so.”

“Then you’re a coward and a fool, trapped in a cage of your own making.”

“Then I suppose I am.”

The Mandalorian in front of him must’ve left home as well. Their family, their life, or whatever had remained of it. And the only reason had been that a few stuck-up assholes somewhere way up above them had decided the other was too dangerous to be left alone. They were forced out into the unknowns of the galaxy, while he had been confined to a few gray halls and meaningless parties. Two ends, same battle.

Fifteen years old when the Empire attacked, destroyed a world, and took countless lives.

Though they were still standing, their lives were also taken from them.

---

HISTORY (I)

“—der was the strongest for the Empire. He was always clear. A true model. Killed by his own child. A tragedy indeed.”

“How do we ensure he never thinks like that? That violence is the only option?”

“Simple. We never tell him anything close to the truth.”

“That’s lying. I won’t lie to him.”

“Don’t you want to stay safe? From him?”

“He’d never hurt us, Gabriel. Unless we give him a reason to.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

“Father refuses to speak of her.” Adrien lifted his head from his knees. “What about your parents?”

“Killed.”

“They would be proud of you.”

The Mandalorian looked away.

The holodisk burned a hole through his pocket the entirety of the flight back. His father dismissed him as soon as they entered their house, and he ran up the stairs to his room immediately.

He closed the door, heaving for breath, wishing he could lock the doors. All he could do was close the windows and hope no one would come in for a few minutes.

His closet was organized neatly with browns and blacks, not a thing out of place. The old shoebox, tucked away in the corner, was surprisingly clean as he took it out. Opening the lid revealed the old disk reader he had hidden away from before. He took the disk out of his pocket and placed it in the projector, lighting up the room in blue. As the device read the gaps, fragments of the meager information flashed to life.

Adrien gaped at the description, then up at the title as it was revealed.

The Force.

---

HISTORY (II)

“You know more about the Darksaber than you’re letting on.”

Adrien gulped, the Mandalorian once again towering over him. “You could say my Father had a special interest in your people and loved to gloat about his knowledge.”

They sat down on a secured crate across from him, a mere few feet away. They swung one leg over the other and crossed their arms. “So your history lessons were an Empire-propagandized version of our culture?”

“I wouldn’t know. It was presented as the truth to me.”

“Then what were you told about the Darksaber?”

“That it was made by the first and only ever Mandalorian Jedi, Tarre Vizsla.”

They were probably narrowing their eyes at him, thinking about what they wanted to know. It was a unique opportunity, after all. Inside information on what the Empire saw as the truth about Mandalorians. And maybe what they didn’t know, how to get the edge, the tactical advantage. What he told the Mandalorian could be used in active warfare, the hidden battle.

Adrien just hoped he could get some truth in response to the lies he had been told.

“What about its history?”

“Well, the Jedi kept it in a temple after Vizsla died to commemorate him, and then the Mandalorians…stole it. During the fall of the Old Republic.” Adrien was tempted to shield his head in case they lashed out at him, this time maybe physically.

“They stole it from us. We merely took it back in opportunism. It was passed down between generations of Clan Vizsla like it should have been in the first place.”

“Until it ended up in the hands of Pre Vizsla.”

“That man was a disgrace to Mandalorians.”

There had been rumors, drifting around the halls of the Empiric vessels. It was as if Adrien had only heard them yesterday. Bounty hunters, Mandalorians, out to earn credits and provide for their clan. Death Watch. But Vizsla had been part of…

Adrien frowned and tilted his head. “Death Watch wanted to abolish the pacifistic path Satine Kryze had set Mandalore on during the Clone Wars, right?”

“True.”

“And you have sworn the Creed?”

“I am a Child of the Watch, of course I did. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Children of the Watch is the successor to Death Watch.”

The Mandalorian laughed once, hard, without humor, and uncrossed their legs, pointing a single bouncing finger at him in warning. “And that’s a bunch of bantha crap.”

“You said you wanted to defend your system during the Purge,” Adrien urged on. “You were never on Mandalore itself. You were on its moon , Concordia.”

“I never said I was born a Mandalorian.” The Mandalorian rose from their seat, voice broken from sudden emotion through the modulator. “I was a child when my people had to flee their homes on a single ship. With only fear in my veins, and the constant banging on the shields in my mind. Everybody on that ship died! For some forsaken reason, I was the only one still breathing when we were boarded by Mandalorians. They took me in, gave me a new home, and gave me a purpose ! I owe them my life…”

The Mandalorian sagged, tension and energy leaving them. It was slow, as they sauntered back over to their spot on the crate.

Adrien could only see himself. You grow up hearing lies, feeling wanted, but have to fit in with traditions and values to be loved. So you do everything in your power to stay within those invisible lines, teetering on the edge, waiting to fall.

‘Then you’re a coward and a fool, trapped in a cage of your own making.’

“What is the Creed like these days?”

The Mandalorian cocked their head at him. They had both been silent for quite some time, thinking. They were strangely intimate topics, to be discussed, given the situation. A kidnapper and their abductee, trapped in hyperspace together.

Adrien had no idea where they were even going. The Outer Rim, judging by how long they had been flying. Maybe the Unknown Regions, even. The Children of the Watch had been flying under the radar for quite some time, so they had to have a hideout somewhere the Empire had never looked, or never would. Maybe something hard to reach or difficult to live in, like a planet covered in toxins. Or somewhere deep in the Unkown Regions, where only people who had a map could go.

But that was silly. Blindly following a map into danger.

“We follow the original texts, the Resol’nare,” the Mandalorian started. “But we’ve had to make adaptations to ensure survival. For the Foundlings. For people me. The Creed is like an expansion of the Resol’nare. It speaks of how a Clan should function, the roles of the people in it, what we should abide by.”

“Anything I might not know of?”

The Mandalorian shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what your father has told you, what he’s lied about, what he kept from you. How would I know what you do and do not know?”

“Tell me a single thing, then.” Adrien scooted forward, legs crossed and fingers drumming on his thighs. “A single thing that you’re certain I wouldn’t know. Something you would be willing to tell, and won’t get you killed by your Clan.”

Silence.

They were probably not going to. An Imperial officer, kidnapped on their ship within their control, asking questions about their Creed, their sacred texts, and for what? His own curiosity? They probably thought he was trying to get intel on the Mandalorian war tactics these days. Rituals before their fights, maybe a detail about their armor or defenses. Or–

“Nobody has seen my face in four years.”

Adrien blinked. “Why?”

“The helmet only comes off before aliit. Family. I have no family, so the helmet stays on. Even within my Clan.”

“So no one knows what you look like?”

“My droid, but no living thing. Maybe a stray loth cat that one time, but…”

His jaw dropped. They were completely anonymous. A ghost. Not a single living being knew what they looked like. “So you’re telling me you could leave, start a new life, and no one would be any the wiser?”

“I would never abandon my Clan,” they hissed. “I am the beroya of my Clan. I am no hut’uun. I may not have a face, but I still have my duties and honor.”

“So you can never show your face to anyone ever again?”

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.”

Aliit meant family. He knew that. The rest of the words? He had no idea.

The Mandalorian had had enough of his constant prodding with questions. They had started tapping on a holopad, probably looking through files, the droid flittering around their helmet with small beeps and other sounds. Adrien didn’t understand Binary, but the droid sounded questioning. Maybe a little scolding.

“K’uur! Cui ogir'olar. Gedet'ye.”

They started reading, lights flickering across their visor as they scrolled through the page at an increasing speed. The droid was backing up as the Mandalorian grew rigid in their perch. As they read on, their grip on the holopad grew stronger. Adrien thought he even heard a crack. His sign to back up as well.

“Haar’chak!”

The holopad flew right at him.

He was certain he made a quite intelligent sound as it made impact with his head, just beside his right eyebrow. The force of it sent his head flying back, into the wall.

He groaned, holding his hand up to his face. It came back warm, his glove slightly darker and heavier. Blood. Great.

The Mandalorian was curing in Mando’a, apparently too busy with whatever they had just read to notice exactly what the holopad had made contact with. Adrien’s brain was ringing, his head wobbling. He did not need a concussion on top of this all.

Suddenly, hands were on his wrists, taking his grip away from his head. More cursing. The Mandalorian ran away, only to be back in front of him immediately. Did he pass out? He was facing his lap instead of the ceiling. Two gloves lay on his legs. Not his, he could still feel the heavy fabric sticking to his palms, between his fingers. The Mandalorian's gloves.

Stinging.

He hissed through his teeth, trying to get away from the sensation, but he was stopped by a strong hand around his left shoulder, keeping him straight up against the wall. He fumbled with his legs, but they were pinned down as well. Trapped. Panic.

“Udesii !” There was a warm palm on his cheek for a second before it left again, a slight pinching sensation now beside his browbone. “Quite a scratch. Now stay still, keep this on it, I’ll be right back.” His hand was guided to a piece of fabric pressing against the skin, and he held it there as the entire sensation of the Mandalorian left him. His legs felt lighter, his shoulders like they could be used again, and his head was free to move, eyes flittering across the hold. He could just spot the backside of the Mandalorian leaving through the door to the cockpit in a hurry before the door slammed down again.

The droid was in front of his face, beeping a slow low beep at him. “I’ll be fine, right?” He got an affirmative-sounding beep in response.

“Let me see that.” The Mandalorian was back, this time without their knees pressing into his thighs. Adrien let his arm drop, the slightly bloody fabric now in his lap. The red was deeper than that of the Mandalorian's armor. He decided he liked the color of the armor more. “Shame, I liked your face.”

The stinging was back.

Adrien hissed again but managed to stay still as the Mandalorian worked. “Dank ferrik, why didn’t you move?”

“Well, I didn’t expect a projectile to come at me, especially with the force you put behind it!” Adrien tensed as a bandage was put over the cut, and gingerly relaxed as the Mandalorian fell back on their haunches.

“I’m sorry.”

“What did you even…”

“You were right.”

“About what?”

“Children of the Watch is the successor to Death Watch.”

Adrien fell silent. The Mandalorian dropped to the floor, legs now stretched in front of them. Their shoes almost brushed against his knees. The gloves still lay in his lap. They were looking at their fidgeting hands, taking grime and dirt out from under their fingernails. “We’ve been lied to by the elders. Or maybe they have been lied to.”

“There is strength in anonymity. They were probably just trying to do what was best for your Clan.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “But they still did wrong things. How am I supposed to go on with them? Go back to them? I have responsibilities, but I don’t want to be a part of a Clan that did those awful things.”

“You can be a part of something without condoning every single thing that people before you have ever done.” The Mandalorian raised their head to him, and Adrien gave a soft smile. “You’re just trying to keep your Clan alive. You’re doing it by hunting bad people. People like me.”

“You were forced into that.”

“As were you.”

Common ground.

Nobody had seen their face since they were sixteen years old.

It was quite odd to think about. Even if Adrien set aside all the Empire and Resistance and Rebel stuff, not showing anybody your face for over four years is a lot. And it was a standard within their community. Did they even see themself in mirrors? Probably. But not a lot. Mirrors would be quite redundant if no one got to see you anyway. Maybe to inspect wounds. Nobody else could treat anything on your head, after all. Or maybe it was just the face? Nobody could see their face, but what about the back of their head? And what if they didn’t see it but just touched their hair?

Did they even have hair?

Adrien didn’t even know if the Mandalorian in front of him was a human or not. Maybe they were from another species entirely. One that had the same proportions as his species did, enough to fit in that armor and the helmet. A bald one, maybe reptilian. Or something with other animal features. Ears? Tail? The flight suit was decently wide on their frame, leaving enough room for movement at least, but maybe there was more.

But no face…

Being anonymous was such a foreign concept to him. Everybody knows everybody within the Empire. Maybe that’s just how high up he is, but that is where he lives. In a world where anybody can recognize him. Everybody he meets knows his father, and they certainly know him. He’s on the posters on the wall, on the internal news messages, the face people have in their minds when they think of the Empire. He’s the personification of their ambition, their status, their power. He’s never been anything else, and he never will be.

He wonders what it’s like to be on the other end of it.

Adrien would never find out, though, so why bother asking? He’d asked them enough already. About their history, their private life. All he needed to know was whether they were going to kill him or not. And it was tempting to fall for the sense of life the Mandalorian was giving him.

---

FUTURE (I)

“I will never want to go back.”

“To your father? Won’t you let him know you’re alive, at least?”

The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “Would you allow me to?”

“Not yet, at least.”

“You won’t have to let me. I won’t.”

“But where will you go?”

“You’ll set me free?”

“I wasn’t planning on killing you if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What were you planning, then?”

“Ransom. Information, beskar, whatever they would trade for you. I was just waiting for an unfortunate soul to pass through. I was after no one in particular, but you turned out to be quite the catch.”

“What am I worth, then? What would you get?”

“I had estimated whoever I took, that someone’s family, your father, would care , but…”

“So I’m worthless because my father thinks my individual life is not important enough to trade with the enemy with?”

“You’re important to the Empire, though.”

“Not important enough.”

It doesn’t sting as much as he thought it would.

“Where are you from?”

“Corellia. It’s…an industrial part of the Core Worlds. I wasn’t there a lot. We lived mostly on Coruscant, where my father had business to discuss, but we had a house on Naboo. By the water. The weather was my favorite part; how it changed. And we had a pet there, my mom got me a loth cat when I was young. I loved him to death.”

“The only pet I ever had was my droid. I took her with me on the ship, and even though she got damaged, my buir fixed her up. Even though droids aren’t part of our culture. She’s the one thing I still have from home.”

“Must be nice, to have a physical reminder of home. Your first home.”

“Your father has something of yours?”

“My mom’s. I wanted to have it, but he wouldn’t let me. I don’t even know if he still has it.”

“Maybe one day you’ll get it back.”

“One day, maybe.”

Adrien kept wondering what his capturer looked like. Human-like at least, he’d concluded earlier. He still couldn’t get to any more details than that. Maybe they had hair, maybe they were bald. The shape of their face, the slope of their nose, the color of their eyes, and whether they sparkled or not… All a mystery. But there were five fingers on the glove in his lap, and Adrien could clearly see the same amount on the Mandalorian's hands.

The holopad was back with them on the crate, displaying the same information as before. The Mandalorian still seemed upset, their shoulders hunched and fingers tensed. Adrien no longer feared the tablet flying at his face and sat a bit more relaxed this time. The gloves were easy to fidget with, the fine leather rubbing pleasantly against his fingertips.

The Mandalorian’s hands seemed soft. Colored a warm beige, considerate of their movements, and yet surprisingly small. The tip of the glove didn’t reach past the second joint on his middle finger, the entire phalange still sticking out from beneath it.

It reminded him of when his mother would let him play with her hands, nails always cared for, a nice white line at the ends. Solid clicking sounds, they would make, when he bumped them together softly.

His father’s hands were…different. His nails were clipped short, hidden beneath the fabric of white gloves, even his still strong right hand. Gloves always reminded him of the damage hidden beneath, a secret from those unfit to know those tales. There was still some guilt gnawing at him whenever his eyes found the dots of white contrasting against the browns and grays of the issued uniforms.

Maybe now he won’t have to look at them anymore.

“What are you thinking about?”

The modulated voice startled him out of his musings, head snapping to face the Mandalorian. He couldn’t say hands, could he? That’d be weird, with that the only part of the Mandalorian exposed like that. “Family,” he said instead, looking at the black gloves, drumming white out of his mind. “My mom.”

The Mandalorian seemed to hum.

“Do you…often think of your family? Your old one?” He had the tendency to ask prodding questions, his mother always said fondly. When his father said it, it always sounded disapproving.

“Sometimes,” they say. They’ve had enough prodding questions, and this one seems to be superficial enough for the Mandalorian to answer it. “My parents were craftspeople, bakers. The small but fulfilling life, you know?”

Adrien didn’t know, but nodded anyway.

“My mom was small, smaller than me, even. And endlessly wise. And my dad was so large everybody was intimidated by him. He once came home with tears in his eyes because he’d made a child cry by towering over them to hand them back their toy, poor guy. The sweetest man I have ever known.”

“It sounds lovely.”

“We had a small garden at the back of the house,” they continue. “Wooden plates, stepping stones, and infinite amounts of pots with flowers. Behind that were our fields, to grow crops to make the bread. A sea of yellow. I used to help harvest, and the rest of the time I was tending to the flowers or helping in the shop.”

The quiet after that is the most comfortable it’s been in the hold since he got out. Maybe longer than that. The quiet in his house, with his father, is always oppressive. Like a thundercloud waiting to strike.

The silence here, now, feels more like when he was with his mother on days when his father went out alone, and it was just the two of them. They had no garden on Coruscant, and they couldn’t leave. But when he was with his mother, that didn’t matter. She made it feel like he had all the galaxy in that small space they didn’t own.

That’s the last taste of freedom he’s ever had.

“What did you mean when you said you liked my face?”

The red was easy to confuse for a blush when the Mandalorian crossed their arms and turned their head slightly away, voice tight. “What are you talking about?”

“When you hit me in the head with the holopad,” Adrien added, slightly smirking. “You said you liked my face when you cleaned it.”

“I can see why the Empire chose you as its front.”

“Oh.”

“...You’re just nice to look at.”

Adrien ducked his head. “Thanks.”

“But if I’m worth nothing to the Empire, I am worth nothing to you.”

The Mandalorian hummed, propped against the wall to his right. Their feet were almost touching, legs stretched out in front of them. The little red droid had placed itself on the Mandalorian’s lap, receiving small pets from their bare hands. “Nothing is a big word. All life holds value.”

The gloves were still in his lap. He had taken off his gloves and thrown them across the hold into the opposite wall. The Mandalorian’s gloves were made of fine, thick leather. High in quality, probably very rare. They had protected their hands often, most likely. “Then of what use am I to you?”

“You still have a lot of information about the Empire and its view on Mandalorians.”

“Torture?”

“Maybe.”

Adrien hummed, turning over the gloves in his hand. “You would’ve, already.”

“Probably.”

“Most likely.”

The Mandalorian shook a little with laughter, making the droid lift off their lap in annoyance. It flew over to Adrien, floating in front of his face. The droid lowered itself down slowly as if asking for permission, before lightly settling on the opened palm of his left hand. Adrien gently stacked the two gloves together, put them on his knees, and started slowly petting the droid.

“What of the Darksaber?”

“Well,” the Mandalorian grunted, sitting up straighter against the wall, “I have no idea.” Adrien could clearly see their nimble fingers fidgeting with their hands, empty from the droid and gloves. “It’s supposed to be won in combat from whoever held it last. My Clan lost contact with other Clans a long time ago before I…joined. I don’t even know if there’s still a Vizsla out there who seeks the blade. The passing down within the family has been abandoned generations ago by the Saxons, later the Wrens, but you never know. Passing it down makes little room for improvement, given the absence of outside influence and knowledge.”

“So you would need to fight the last holder of the Darksaber, win in combat, claim the Saber, and that would result in becoming the Mand’alor?”

“That’s how that would work, yes.”

“So you’re the Mand’alor right now.”

Silence.

“Usenye . That’s nonsense.”

“You beat me in combat!”

“You weren’t even fighting .”

“You won the battle.”

“Against droids!”

“You could’ve killed me right there.”

“But I didn’t .”

“But the fact that you could proves you won.”

The Mandalorian groaned, putting their head in their hands. “You’re impossible. Why am I even arguing with you about this? You’re part of the Empire! These are internal affairs!”

“It’s part of my charm to be involved in intergalactic incidents.”

“The fact that you sound so convinced makes you so much worse.”

Adrien just grinned.

---

FUTURE (II)

“Get ready, we’re almost there.”

Adrien jumped, the droid in his lap angrily muttering about being awakened so rudely. He heartily agreed, but with the way his heart was suddenly pounding, he had more pressing matters on his mind. “Where?”

“My Clan.”

Maker, he was about to face judgment.

“What do I do?”

“You do as I say, don’t leave my side, and stay quiet .”

The Mandalorian seemed tense as they went through the hold for the last time to check everything. “Follow me.” They went into the cockpit of the ship, Adrien slowly following. This had been off-limits since he’d been here, and being in there seemed…invasive. The cockpit was small, with only two chairs looking out through a circular front window and no space for a communications station. He plopped down into the chair on the right and held his hands beside him at the sight of all the buttons.

“You’ve never flown before, have you?”

“I’ve had basic training, but this one seems personalized.”

The Mandalorian hummed. “Put your harness on, and then put this over your head.” They rummaged under their chair and handed him a black sack. Adrien held it in his hands for a second, confused, before he groaned and looked at the Mandalorian with exasperation.

“Really?” he asked. In a mocking tone, he added, “After all we’ve been through.”

“You either cover your head or you lose it.”

“Copy that.”

Adrien liked seeing where he was going. If he couldn’t, he was fine trusting someone who knew the area and who knew him to guide him. Usually, it’s through dark, straight, silent hallways.

The Mandalorian warned him of a step down after he’s already tumbled and needed catching, and he grumbled as people he couldn’t see laughed at him. They apologized quietly, for the others not to hear, and continued through the maze of tunnels, hallways, rooms, and–

Mandalorians.

He was in the heart of their base, following one he only met half a cycle ago in a not-so-pleasant way, but he was relatively at ease. Except for the constant small obstacles in front of his feet, the archways that were sometimes a little low, or the fact that they all knew he was an enemy. The clothes were a dead giveaway. But the Mandalorian in front of him was not going to kill him and wasn’t planning on letting anyone else kill him, either.

“We’re going to see the Alor and he’s going to decide what’s next for you.”

“What about the Death Watch?”

“It’s like you said. I don’t have to condone it to be part of it. We’re different now, and my Alor is still my…my Alor. We’ll get to the history part later. For now, we’re here for your fate.”

But his fate was not in his Mandalorian’s hands.

It got quieter the deeper they went. The air was a bit stale, warmed from fires and weapons. It got still, too, when they entered the last room. The Mandalorian let go of his elbow and took a few steps back to close off the room. They returned quickly and pulled the sack off his head, startling him a bit.

“A warning would’ve been nice,” he couldn’t help but say.

“Sorry.”

“I see you two have warmed up to each other.”

It’s only after he has spoken that Adrien noticed the Mandalorian on the other side of the room. He was sat on a small cushion on a slightly elevated platform, hunched over from old age. Completely armored as well, but significantly less intimidating.

“Alor,” his Mandalorian greeted as they sit on a small cushion as well. Adrien looked to the floor, found one just in front of his feet, and mirrored them by sitting and bowing his head, although far deeper.

The Alor wasn’t speaking and neither was the Mandalorian, so Adrien kept his head down, closed his eyes, and begged a higher power for mercy.

“Ad, stop staring at the floor. You are safe within this room.”

Air returned to his lungs and he looked up, straight into the visor of the Alor now three feet in front of him. He yelped and fell backward, legs almost hitting the man as he went. A quick sidestep from the Alor prevented the collision, and he seemed to laugh to himself as Adrien scrambled back up again, muttering an apology.

“I understand your anxiousness, ad. You never thought you’d be here and are scared. This is normal.”

Like he had done this exact thing before.

“The Empire enslaved this man when he was a boy and has turned him into an unwilling asset,” his Mandalorian said to the Alor, who continued to study Adrien’s face intently. The visor didn’t move, but Adrien could nearly feel where the Alor’s eyes were on his face. It didn’t quite burn; it was quite the opposite. It was more like a warm blanket. “He has seen the errors of his capturers and wishes to escape them.”

“Is he of value to us?”

“He holds a great amount of knowledge due to his placement within their organization and is very keen on not helping them any further in their oppression of the galaxy.”

“And what does he want?”

What did he want?

“I…I want to take back what my father stole from me,” he said. Etiquette classes from when he was young suddenly flooded his mind, language turning official, words into what felt like subtle lies even though it is the truth he speaks. “I don’t seek revenge for what he did to me, but there is an injustice that needs rectifying. I wish to correct the past and move on from it with my heart free from hatred and regrets. Leaving that place behind is what is best for me, and as for what comes after…”

Adrien looked at his Mandalorian to his right and felt stronger with their subtle nod of approval.

“I only wish to not be alone when I decide.”

---

THE SIEGE

“Seven years ago, we initiated a great battle.”

The microphone crackles a bit as Gabriel speaks the first sentence. He taps on the device twice, sending dull pops through the speakers of the hall, before continuing. “The Mandalorians were great warriors, excellent strategists on the battlefield, but not as much in the Halls of War. They refused us, and we showed them what real power looks like.”

Adrien scoffs at the propaganda flowing effortlessly from the man’s mouth and continues his path along the upper balconies. The lights tied around the banister reflects only a little from his matte black outfit, and he feels like a moving shadow about to exact justice.

Not revenge.

Justice.

The white gloves on Gabriel’s hand move only a little as he speaks to the filled room, chairs all set in neat rows. The people sitting on them all look at him, completely still, creating a stoic pattern on the floors. Those floors were made for moving, dancing, and celebrating peace and victory, and have instead turned into the stage for propaganda and war.

The lights are still there from earlier that evening when people had been walking around and making small talk, the closest thing the Empire could get to a celebration that wasn’t a march through the streets of their newly conquered world. Now, the grays and browns are still atop the shining gold floors, watching the white of Gabriel’s gloves as he gestures to the men at his side to reveal their new statue.

It’s relatively small, barely taller than Gabriel is. A dull bronze fills the space behind him, and it mirrors his exact pose. Head held high with shame, hands tied behind his back from lies. Regret ties the bow between Gabriel’s wrists, covers his hands, and stings when he moves his left arm.

Adrien gets in position on the balcony and waits.

Across from him, the Mandalorian mirrors his pose, covering the other exit. They have one hand on their communicator, and the other on their weapon on their hip. “I really hope he goes your way so I don’t have to jump 20 feet down.”

“What about me? You have a jetpack, you would be fine,” he replies through his own comm.

“Still. I like my ankles in one piece.”

“I like you, in general, in one piece, too.”

“Focus, pretty boy.”

Gabriel has concluded his speech and is stepping down the small podium, right toward the opposite side of the room Adrien is covering. He swears and starts sprinting over the balconies. Going over the front would be quicker, but everybody is still looking that way, so Adrien has to go all the way around the back of the near-circular room. The Mandalorian is already down a level, so he doesn’t hesitate to jump down as well.

This is his fight.

He lands in a deep crouch and jumps up immediately, pulling his beskar staff from his back and pointing the edge at Gabriel’s throat from beside him. Gabriel’s hands are already lifted. On the other side of his throat, the Darksaber whirrs in the air against his skin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of the visit of not one, but two Mandalorians?”

Adrien grits his teeth within his helmet.

The rest of the room is already clearing out, personnel fleeing through the doors at the back and at the right side of the room. Stormtroopers must be on their way. Maybe white ones, maybe black ones. Their bustle doesn’t quite reach Adrien as he thinks.

Gabriel doesn’t recognize the Mandalorian from security footage from a year ago, despite the bright red beskar, or the Darksaber. Or maybe he does and is playing some sort of long game. Usually, people who are threatened by a Mandalorian give up everything immediately to run away with their lives. Maybe Gabriel has finally given up. Or he’s trying to get something from them.

Maybe he’s trying to get Adrien back.

“You have something I want.” His modulated voice sounds scraping to his own ears, but Adrien continues anyway. “You stole something many years ago, and I want it back. You don’t deserve to have it, so I’m taking it from you.”

Adrien reaches for Gabriel’s left hand and grips it harshly, making him flinch and grit his teeth in pain. He is more gentle when he peels the glove from Gabriel’s hand, revealing the flaking black skin beneath. It lays against his bones, all the muscles nearly gone, and the ring falls into Adrien’s hand with the glove, unable to cling to Gabriel’s skinny finger.

Adrien sees both his regrets in the black of skin and his love reflected in the shine of silver.

He supposes his father knows, now. He watches Gabriel’s eyes widen, tears welling in his eyes. But Adrien knows those tears are only formed by regret and hatred, and not because of the love for his long-lost son or his late wife. Gabriel falls to his knees and cries, because he realizes his past caught up with him, and despite all the hardships life has thrown at him, his son chose to become a better person. Adrien has refused to give in to the negativity and is finally realizing his dreams of who he wants to be.

He has become better .

The Mandalorian grabs his hand, and he holds on tightly to the ring and the glove as they run through the halls, staff still clasped in his other hand. The passageways are the same ones the dark stormtroopers took him through all that time ago, but now, as he feels like he’s escaping, he knows it to be the truth.

The ship is cold from being landed for a few hours, but the Mandalorian manages to get it running and into the upper atmosphere of Coruscant quickly and steadily. Adrien sits numbly in the hold, staff in his left hand, ring and glove in his right. Only when the ship jolts into hyperspace does he realize what just happened.

The Mandalorian joins him, sitting against the wall on his right, their feet now brushing against his knees. It’s pleasant, the distance and the proximity as he turns the ring over in his hands.

“He never looked for me once he realized I was gone,” Adrien realizes out loud

“You’re probably right.”

“Maybe the Moff looked at the footage to find the Darksaber, but my father never bothered. He didn’t even recognize you.”

“Nobody used to.”

Adrien smiles as his eyes find the Darksaber on their hip.

“And you have found a new family.”

Gabriel hasn’t been his father in the years since his mother’s passing. Familial love used to be fed to him. He bathed in it with his mother on Naboo and found it in the halls of the ships when he finally discovered her during their games. She would lift him, spin him around, press her nose into his cheek and shower him with kisses. His father’s love had been more contained, but a hand on his shoulder once they looked out over the planet together used to be everything he needed.

Gabriel never once touched him.

Adrien hums in response to the Mandalorian and cocks his head. “We’re not aliit until we’re wed.”

His Mandalorian laughs and moves closer to him, throwing their arm around his shoulders. “Maybe one day, we will.” They take a deep breath, looking around the hold until their visor settles on his helmeted face. “But family is more than blood and oaths.”

Adrien, at that moment, longs for that sliver of love from his past he still clings to and removes his gloves, putting his mother’s ring on his finger. He looks at the silver shining at him, a thin and refined band, and beams at it with tears in his eyes. The Mandalorian probably senses this and takes off their left glove, softly settling their hand against his right. He keeps his eyes on his left as his fingers curl into theirs, locking them together in this hold in hyperspace.

Almost exactly like how they started. Common ground.

The white glove lies forgotten on the floor as Adrien looks at the remainder of what used to be, as he holds on to a path to love filled with acceptance, and freedom.

4 notes · View notes

eyecatchersadagency · 1 year

Text

ADVERTISING IN 16TH TO 19TH CENTURY

Modern advertising began to require a form with the arrival of newspapers and magazines within the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The initial weekly gazettes appeared in metropolis within the early 16th-century. From there, the construct of a weekly publication unfolds to the Italian Republic, Deutschland and Netherlands. In Britain, the primary weeklies appeared within the 1620s, and its initial daily newspaper was The Daily Courant revealed from 1702 to 1735. Nearly from the commencement, newspapers carried advertising to pay the price of printing and distribution. The earliest business advertisements were for books and quack medicines, however by the 1650s, the variability of the product being publicized had accumulated markedly.

Advances in printing allowed retailers and makers to print handbills and trade cards. for instance, Jonathon Holder, a London merchandiser within the 1670s, gave each client a written list of his stock with the costs basifixed. At the time, Holder’s innovation was seen as a “dangerous practise” associated with the supererogatory expense for retailers. The earliest trade cards weren’t cards in the slightest degree, instead, they were written on paper and didn’t embrace illustrations. By the eighteenth century, however, they were written on a lot of cards and stands usually bore the tradesmen’s name and address, and before the street list was in common use, usually enclosed a verbose set of directions on a way to find the shop or premises. With the arrival of economic engraving and lithography, illustrations became a regular feature of even the foremost humble trade card. Eventually, trade cards evolved into business cards, that are still in use these days. In Gregorian calendar month, 1836, fictitious character DEGirardin editor of the Paris newspaper La Presse was the primary to admit paid advertising to lower its value, extend its audience and increase its gain. His formula was before long derived by all titles.

Early print advertisements were used primarily to push books and newspapers, which became more and more reasonable with advances within the printing press; and medicines, that were more and more wanted as fashionable individuals rejected ancient cures. However, false advertising and “Quackery” became common. British newspapers within the decennium and decade appealed to the more and more affluent bourgeois that sought-after out a range of latest product. The advertisements declared new health remedies furthermore as recent foods and beverages. the newest London fashions were featured within the regional press. the supply of recurrent advertising allowable makers to develop across the nation famed complete names that had a far stronger charm than generic product.

A leadership position in British advertising was command by Cope Bros & Co tobacco company, supported in the metropolis in 1848 by Thomas and St. George Cope. Smoking, of course, had been common for hundreds of years, however, the innovations consisted of incomplete names, serious advertising, and market segmentation per category. associate degree innovative charm was to health consciousness; the ads directed at the bourgeois men secure that “smoke not solely checks illness however preserves the lungs.” A rugged serious style was pitched to operating men, troopers and sailors, whereas”delicately fragrant” was a part of the charm to the propertied. The packaging was engaging, posters were ubiquitous to indicate that smoking was a standard a part of English life; lobbying was accustomed to undercut the anti-tobacco lobby. Fortunately, we’re not in the 16th century anymore, and have professional advertising agencies now, like Eyecatchers! It’s a one-stop-shop for every clients’ branding, promotional and communications needs. Call us on 9136024246 / 7 or mail us at [email protected] and we will prepare a tailor-made digital marketing solution for you that will be effective, efficient and ‘value-for-money!

0 notes

telugutimesusa · 1 year

Text

Satyadev's 26th Pan India Movie Title 'Zebra'

Versatile hero Satyadev and Kannada star Dolly Dhananjaya are making a crime action entertainer under the direction of Ishwar Karthik. This is the 26th project for both Satyadev and Dolly Dhananjaya. The makers have announced the title of this film today (January 26) on the occasion of Republic Day. The interesting title of the film is 'Zebra'.A speedometer is attached to the title logo. In this chess pieces white knight and black knight can also be observed. A knight is a smart move in a game of chess. 'Luck favors the brave' is the tag line of this movie. Like the title, the title poster is also impressive...

#Satyadev 26 #Daali Dhananjaya 26 #Eashvar Karthic #Pan India Film #Zebra #today news #today news updates #latest news updates #telugu news updates #latest news #breaking news #trending news #daily news #telugu times update

0 notes

starfriday · 1 year

Text

*Zee Studios powers up with Anil Sharma and Sunny Deol to deliver the biggest Republic Day announcement of Bollywood, launches the first poster of 'Gadar 2.'*

_After shattering records with massive critical acclaim back in 2001, Zee Studios is back with the most anticipated sequel of 'Gadar 2,' that redefined patriotism, love and passion in Bollywood!_

Apart from having an incredible line up of titles for 2023, Zee Studios is all set to continue their realm of creating path-breaking cinema with the first poster release of Bollywood's most-awaited sequel, 'Gadar 2,' in association with Anil Sharma. The Sunny Deol, Ameesha Patel and Utkarsh Sharma starrer created an insurmountable stir in Bollywood ever since its inception. Fans, critics, noted names from the industry expressed their excitement over the most celebrated sequel of Bollywood. To add a cherry on the top, the makers, Zee Studios and Anil Sharma have decided to gift the first look of 'Gadar 2' featuring Sunny Deol to the people of India!

Sharing his joy over the first poster launch, director and producer Anil Sharma added, “Gadar - Ek Prem Katha isn’t my film but it’s people’s film and dynamically shifted the paradigm of the Indian film industry. It went on to become a cult icon wherein people breathed Tara Singh and Sakina's love story. We are absolutely thrilled to launch the first poster!"

Speaking about the film CEO of Zee Studios Shariq Patel said, “The original team of 'Gadar - Ek Prem Katha' is back after 22 years and we are elated to be associated with the team on this one. The first installment gave some iconic scenes, songs and character to the Indian Film Industry and is popular even today. Needless to say, entertainment and emotion make up the artillery for 'Gadar 2' and we are delighted to commemorate the Republic Day with the first poster launch."

Adding to it, Superstar Sunny Deol stated, “'Gadar - Ek Prem Katha' has been an eminent part of my life, personally as well as professionally. Tara Singh from Gadar isn’t just a protagonist but went on to become a cult icon that defied all odds and crossed all boundaries for his Family and Love. Collaborating with the team after, 22 years was a creatively enriching experience."

The first movie Gadar - Ek Prem Katha is still celebrated amongst the Indian audiences. The movie created a new wave of nationalism in the country and the storyline still rules millions of hearts! Helmed by Director-Producer Anil Sharma, and produced by Zee Studios, the movie stars Sunny Deol, Ameesha Patel and Utkarsh Sharma in lead roles. The movie is scheduled to be release on 11th August 2023.

0 notes

latestmovienewsupdates · 1 year

Text

Tollywood Latest News only on HYD7AM

Tollywood News: Most people like to watch movies of any genre which were good content. While watching movies really makes us refreshment and makes to learn new things. To get more information about Tollywood news then HYD7AM is a news site that provides all the latest news and exclusive updates about Tollywood news, Health news, Bollywood news, and much more in detail.

1. Varasudu: It is known that Talapathy Vijay’s latest solid entertainer "Varisu" was directed by Vamsi Paidipally. This movie will be released in Telugu with a title called "Varasudu". Now we hear a solid update on the trailer of this movie that there is a chance that the trailer will come on January 2 or it seems that there is a chance of getting an update regarding the trailer of the movie that day. And there is an official clarification on this. If it comes from Vijay movies, only a teaser or trailer comes. And this movie is going to be released in Tamil and Telugu as well as in Hindi as a Sankranti gift.

Read: Latest News and Updates about Actor Vijay

2. Harihara Veeramallu: Hero Power Star Pawan Kalyan is currently acting in the “Harihara Veeramallu” movie under the direction of Krish. The two glimpse teasers and posters already released from this movie have impressed everyone. Pawan Kalyan is playing the powerful role of Veeramallu in this film while Nidhi Aggarwal is playing the heroine. AM Ratnam is producing this movie. Now the latest buzz is that the makers of this movie, who have already announced the release of the movie on March 30, will release the official teaser of this movie on January 26 as a Republic Day gift. Let’s see how the official teaser of this movie will impress the audience.

Read: Latest News and Updates about Actor Pawan Kalyan

3. Amigos: Nandamuri Kalyan Ram’s next film “Amigos” is slated to release on February 10, 2023. As per reports, the team of film released the first look poster. In this poster, Kalyan Ram looks super stylish. And here it is to be seen whether the actor is playing a double role or a triple role. Produced by Mythri Movie Makers, the film is written and directed by Rajendra Reddy. Gibran composed the music for this film.

Read: Latest News and Updates about Actor Kalyan Ram

4. NTR 30: It is known that Young Tiger NTR is going to make a huge Pan India movie with director Koratala Siva as the hero. NTR is going to make his 30th film in his career. But now, exceptionally, the filmmakers were given a massive update that this project is to be released next year i.e., 2024 on April 5 as a gift of Ugadi. While the poster released on this is also good and powerful, now this sudden update become crazy in the movie circles. While Anirudh is providing the music for this film, NTR Arts and Yuvasudha Arts are jointly producing it with a huge budget.

Read: Latest News and Updates about Actor NTR

Get all the latest news and updates only on HYD7AM. It is one of the best geniue news provider sites which provides every news about Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, like Photo galleries, Fashion news, Bollywood News, Tollywood News, Political news, technical News, Lifestyle News…etc.

For the Latest Tollywood News, click the link of https://www.hyd7am.com/

#News

0 notes

marwahstudios · 1 year

Text

Most Vibrant 15th Global Film Festival Inaugurated at Noida Film City

Noida: Colorful cinema posters all over, no parking space left outside the studios, enthusiastic crowd, you could see the microphones with different logos of TV channels, good looking, smart and young audience waiting for the inaugural function of 15th Global Film Festival Noida 2022 at Film City Noida, designed by International Film and Television Club of Marwah Studios.

Love, Peace, and Unity through Cinema is the mission of the festival. The purpose is to bring lots of information, education, and entertainment through films. We are one of the most well-established film festivals of this part of the World. In North India Global Film Festival has created a wonderful niche for itself. Three days festival will showcase 52 events related to cinema,” said Dr. Sandeep Marwah President Marwah Studios in the opening remarks.

I, on behalf of Republic of Tunisia take this opportunity to extend my heartiest congratulations to the festival team on the inauguration of this great extravaganza. This international event is now known to the whole World. We are Pleased to be part of this great show,” said H.E. Hayt Talbi Ambassador of Tunisia to India while lighting the ceremonial lamp.

Films are the best ambassadors of culture of any country and festivals are the best way to showcase the culture. I am surprised to see the scale of festival touching 67 countries of the World. It is a union of culture at Marwah Studios,” said Dr. Amar Patnaik Member Parliament Rajya Sabha.

“We are proud of Sandeep Marwah and his untiring contribution to promote national and international cinema from last thirty years. No institution in the World has taken such a big initiative to promote cinema in such a vast scale. I congratulate the complete team on the opening of 15th Global Film Festival,” said T.P.Agarwal President Film Federation of India-The Apex body of Cinema in India.

Global Film Festival has a very important place in my life. My first film Buddha in Traffic Jam and my second film The Tashkent Files both saw light of the day at global Film Festivals in early years. Whenever I am here at Marwah Studios, I get spiritually high. This is one of the most well-designed festivals of the World,” said Vivek Agnihotri renowned film director now popular for his film Kashmir Files.

Amizal Fadzli Charge D’ Affaires of High Commission of Malaysia invited the film makers to come and shoot at Malaysia. He talked about the strong ties of India and Malaysia both are enjoying from last many centuries. Mehdi Boukouizia of Embassy of Morocco spoke about the Indo Morocco Film and Cultural Forum and its activities to promote the relation between the two countries India and Morocco.

Renowned actor Mukesh Tyagi, producer Rajeev Chaudhari also spoke on the occasion. A poster on Mahatma Gandhi was launched to mark respect to father of Nation. Later Sandeep Marwah presented festival mementos to all the dignities. The seminar was followed by question answer session. The event was supported by International Chamber of Media and Entertainment Industry, Asian Unity Alliance, World Peace Development & Research Foundation, and AAFT University. Festival Director Ashok Tyagi expressed his views, narrated the journey of the festival & proposed vote of thanks.

#Inauguration of 15th Global Film Festival Noida 2022 at Marwah Studios #Dr. Sandeep Marwah President of 15th GFFN

0 notes

brandingbull123 · 3 years

Text

Festival poster maker

Brandingbull is an artificial intelligence based post designing app by using our brandingbull app you’ll easily create festival post

Create a motivational festival poster design in minutes with the branding bull poster maker, help you easily stand out among a type of posters.

Create free Indian festival flyers, posters and social media graphics in minutes. ... Bright yellow happy Vishnu Instagram post template.

Festival Post - Business Name & Image Poster Maker helps you with all types of small and large businesses for creation a festival poster or photo with their make logo. Best app for make festival banner with your logo and text. In this app, you must simply select any festival poster frame or photo template which you liked for making festival greeting and promotion for your businesses.

Festival Poster Templates. Supper the word about the forthcoming festival by putt up custom posters designed from the branding bull collection of models.

Brandingbull Festival post is one of the most reputed app in India for making post for every festival.

100+ images of festival of major festival(holi, diwali, dusherra, raksha bandhan, ganesh chaturthi, janmastami, independence day , republic day, christmas, new year etc.)

Brandingbull festival post the quality and relevance of information that consumers have come to expect, though it has a better aim on the beautiful part.

#Festival poster maker

1 note · View note

loadthree979 · 3 years

Text

Daniel Craig Clue Movie

Filter by:

Daniel Craig Clue Movie Poster

List Of Daniel Craig Movies

Daniel Craig Film Clue

Knives Out—In theaters November 27, 2019. Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Toni Collette, Don Johnson, Michael Shannon, LaKeith Sta. This crossword clue Notting Hill Actor Who Plays Daniel Cleaver In The Romantic Comedy Movie Bridget Jones's Diary: 2 Wds. Was discovered last seen in the June 18 2020 at the Daily Themed Crossword. The crossword clue possible answer is available in 9 letters. This answers first letter of which starts with H and can be found at the end of T. Clue (1985) is one of my favorite comedies ever as it is a quick 96 minutes of non-stop hilarity. Director Jonathan Lynn makes long sweeping shots of the gorgeous mansion set look as lovely as his quick cuts to each character. His fast paced direction makes Clue a breeze to watch and revisit time and again. The reason you are here is because you are looking for the Fictional spy portrayed by Daniel Craig crossword clue answers and solutions which was last seen today August 21 2018, at the popular Daily Themed Crossword puzzle. Clue: Fictional spy portrayed by Daniel Craig Possible Solution: BOND Already found the solution for Fictional spy Read more →.

The reason you are here is because you are looking for the to Die upcoming spy film starring Daniel Craig which is the 25th installment in the James Bond series: 2 wds. Crossword clue answers and solutions which was last seen today January 2 2020, at the popular Daily Themed Crossword puzzle.

No Time to Die

2020

2h 43min

Directed by: Cary Joji Fukunaga

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rami Malek, Lea Seydoux, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw, Rory Kinnear, Jeffrey Wright, Ana de Armas, Dali Benssalah, David Dencik, Lashana Lynch, Billy Magnussen

UK release: 2 April 2021

The 25th James Bond film is directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga and sees Daniel Craig in the lead for one last time.

Knives Out

2019

2h 10min

12A

Directed by: Rian Johnson

Cast: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Lakeith Stanfield, Katherine Langford, Jaeden Martell, Christopher Plummer

UK release: 27 November 2019

When mystery writer Harlan Thrombey (Plummer) is found with his throat slit, puffed-up private detective Benoit Blanc (Craig) gets on the case. A wickedly knowing, flamboyantly bitchy take on the whodunnit, with a great cast, bags of style and a splendidly outrageous comic turn from Craig. Bloody good fun.

Logan Lucky

2017

1h 59min

12A

Directed by: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Seth MacFarlane, Riley Keough, Katie Holmes, Daniel Craig

UK release: 25 August 2017

Jimmy (Tatum), his brother Clyde (Driver) and sister Mellie (Keough) enlist the help of redneck jailbird and explosives expert Joe Bang (Craig) to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway. Soderbergh’s latest comedy heist movie is perhaps his best, with a great cast, a satisfying plot and witty dialogue.

Kings

2017

1h 26min

Directed by: Deniz Gamze Ergüven

Cast: Halle Berry, Daniel Craig, Lamar Johnson

Following the life of a foster family in LA amidst the riots that followed the Rodney King trial verdict.

Spectre

2015

2h 28min

12A

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Cast: Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux, Monica Bellucci, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw, Rory Kinnear, Andrew Scott, Dave Bautista, Stephanie Sigman

UK release: 26 October 2015

James Bond (Craig) comes up against a global crime syndicate, while back at home, the 00 programme is under threat from reckless moderniser C (Scott). With its swagger, dry humour and frequent, well-executed action it's a solid crowdpleaser, but the story is predictable, the characterisation is thin and overall it lacks…

Skyfall

2012

2h 25min

12A

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Written by: John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade

Cast: Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Judi Dench, Ralph Fiennes, Albert Finney, Naomie Harris, Bérénice Marlohe

UK release: 26 October 2012

When cyber-terrorists steal an MI6 hard drive, 007 is ordered to recover it. After the let-down of Quantum of Solace, the 23rd official Bond movie is a belter; the script is smart, Craig is better than ever, and Bardem is a thrilling villain. 50 years on from Dr No, it's a well-wrapped birthday present.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

2011

US / Sweden / UK / Germany

2h 37min

Directed by: David Fincher

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgård, Steven Berkoff, Robin Wright, Yorick van Wageningen, Joely Richardson

UK release: 26 December 2011

An investigative journalist (Craig) forms an uneasy alliance with a computer hacker (Mara) in an attempt to solve a disappearance. Th400 transbrake kit. Fincher amps up the dark poetry and Mara exudes a barely suppressed rage in every scene, elevating a populist novel into a compelling (if overlong) drama of bleakness and corruption.

Dream House

2011

1h 31min

Directed by: Jim Sheridan

Written by: David Loucka

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, Naomi Watts, Marton Csokas

UK release: 25 November 2011

Publisher Will (Craig) relocates to the suburbs with his wife (Weisz) and daughters, but when their house turns out to be the scene of a massacre, the domestic dream turns sour. Best remembered as the movie that saw Craig and Weisz get together, because their chemistry can't save the clunky script and inert direction.

The Adventures of Tintin: Secret of the Unicorn

2011

US / New Zealand

1h 47min

Directed by: Steven Spielberg

Cast: Jamie Bell, Andy Serkis, Daniel Craig

After buying a replica model ship at a flea market, Tintin (Bell) is embroiled in a world of subterfuge. Not since Indy's third outing has Spielberg felt so fresh and unshackled; it feels like a hark back to the heyday of 1980s adventure cinema.

Cowboys and Aliens

2011

12A

Directed by: Jon Favreau

Cast: Daniel Craig, Harrison Ford, Olivia Wilde

Drunk and trouble maker Jake (Craig) is broken out of jail and forced to help grumpy old Arizona lawman Percy (Ford) when aliens start to attack. Dull, humourless and over written sci fi western from Iron Man director Favreau.

One Life

2011

Directed by: Michael Gunton, Martha Holmes

Written by: Michael Gunton, Martha Holmes

Cast: Daniel Craig (voice)

Documentary for kids featuring stunning footage of animals in the wild and narrated by Daniel Craig.

Defiance

2009

2h 16min

Directed by: Edward Zwick

Written by: Edward Zwick, Clayton Frohman

Cast: Daniel Craig, Liev Schreiber, Jamie Bell, George MacKay

Remarkable true story of the Bielski brothers, three real-life heroes who, against all odds, preserve a community of Jews who escape Poland for the forests of Belarus during WWII. Allied with the Russian resistance, the community thrives unexpectedly, leaving leader Tuvia Bielski (Craig) with heavy responsibilities.

Flashbacks of a Fool

2008

1h 53min

Directed by: Baillie Walsh

Written by: Baillie Walsh

Cast: Daniel Craig, Harry Eden, Claire Forlani, Felicity Jones, Eve, Emilia Fox, Jodhi May, Miriam Karlin

Set in present-day California and an English seaside resort circa 1972, Joe Scott (Craig between Bond outings), is a washed up Hollywood star who recalls a traumatic teenage experience that leads to professional success and personal self-destruction. Good supporting performances and rather pedestrian flashbacks make for…

Quantum of Solace

2008

UK / US

1h 45min

12A

Directed by: Marc Forster

Written by: Ian Fleming, Michael G Wilson

Cast: Daniel Craig, Olga Kurylenko, Mathieu Amalric, Gemma Arterton, Judi Dench, Jeffrey Wright, Giancarlo Giannini

'Quantum of Solace' starts with a trademark action sequence involving cars burning rubber around narrow roads and then proceeds to jump from one thrill to another, while moving through locations like pages in a travel brochure. A major plus is Amalric's turn as the villain Dominic Greene, head of an organisation which…

The Golden Compass

2007

US / UK

1h 45min

12A

Directed by: Chris Weitz

Cast: Dakota Blue Richards, Freddie Highmore, Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Sam Elliott, Eva Green, Jim Carter, Tom Courtenay, Ian McKellen, Ian McShane, Ben Walker

Based on the novel by Phillip Pullman, this fantasy adventure follows Lyra (Richards), who has been entrusted with the last remaining 'alethiometer', or golden compass, which she must keep from the power-crazed Magisterium. The world Weitz has created is beautifully designed and fascinating, but choppily structured and…

The Invasion

2007

1h 39min

Directed by: Oliver Hirschbiegel, James McTeigue

Written by: Dave Kajganich, Wachowski brothers

Cast: Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Jeremy Northam, Jackson Bond, Jeffrey Wright, Veronica Cartwright

Another reworking of classic 1950s thriller 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'. A mysterious epidemic is sweeping the world, and when a DC psychiatrist (Kidman) discovers its extraterrestrial origin, she and her colleague (Craig) must work together to find a cure before they become its next victims. A waste of celluloid.

Infamous

2006

1h 58min

Directed by: Douglas McGrath

Written by: Douglas McGrath, Book:, George Plimpton

Cast: Toby Jones, Sandra Bullock, Lee Pace, Daniel Craig, Jeff Daniels, Peter Bogdanovich

A more flamboyant and light-hearted biopic of Truman Capote than Bennett Miller's 2005 film 'Capote'. Jones is great in the lead as the eccentric writer but a weak supporting cast renders this the lesser of the two.

Casino Royale

2006

US / UK / Czech Republic

2h 24min

12A

Directed by: Martin Campbell

Written by: Ian Fleming

Cast: Daniel Craig, Eva Green, Mads Mikkelsen, Judi Dench

The prequel to the other Bond films time warps back to the enduring action hero becoming a 00 licensed to kill. The latest Bond (Craig) proves to be a strong leading man, but the film is let down by trying to do too much. With a weak villain and Bond girl to boot, it doesn't really feel like a Bond film at all.

Renaissance

2006

France / UK / Luxemburg

1h 45min

Directed by: Christian Volckman

Cast: Daniel Craig, Romola Garai, Jonathan Pryce

Impressive looking 3D futuristic thriller with a black and white render which never quite gets going. Paris 2054. Ilona Tassueiv (Garai), a young and brilliant researcher is violently kidnapped. Avalon, a giant multinational corporation and her employer, wants her found. Dellenbach (Pryce), Avalon's CEO, has requested…

Enduring Love

2004

1h 40min

Directed by: Roger Michellv

Cast: Rhys Ifans, Daniel Craig, Samantha Morton

Based on Ian McEwan's bestseller, a man's worldview is bruised when his attempt to save a boy from a hot air balloon accident goes wrong.

Part 2: How to access iMessage on Chromebook 1. The app Chrome Remote Desktop must be downloaded from chrome web store on your Mac or Win computers. The downloading and installation will be quickly completed on the computers. Imessage on chromebook. Chrome Remote Desktop allows access to another computer's apps and files securely via the Chrome browser or Chrome book. So connect the two computers through the security code and enjoy the iMessage on your Windows PC. 2 Jailbreak your iPhone. There is one more method through which you can get iMessage for windows.

Layer Cake

2004

1h 45min

Directed by: Matthew Vaughn

Cast: Daniel Craig, Sienna Miller, Michael Gambon

Daniel Craig Clue Movie Poster

A cocaine dealer works his way through two tough assignments from his boss on the day before his retirement.

The Mother

2003

1h 30min

Directed by: Roger Michell

Written by: Hanif Kureishi

Cast: Anne Reid, Daniel Craig, Cathryn Bradshaw

A recently widowed grandmother embarks on an affair with a man half her age, who is also sleeping with her daughter.

Sylvia

2003

1h 40min

Directed by: Christine Jeffs

Cast: Gwyneth Paltrow, Daniel Craig, Lucy Davenport

A biopic of the relationship and fatal attraction between poets Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.

Road to Perdition

2002

1h 57min

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Cast: Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Jude Law, Daniel Craig, Tyler Hoechlin

A Depression era gangster picture with solid American family values. It may also, like Mendes' absurdly overrated Oscar-winner 'American Beauty', fool cinema-goers into confusing its moody self-importance for profound insight. For here are Big Stars, Big Themes (Fathers and Sons, Loyalty and Betrayal, Sin and Salvation…

Filter by:

No Time to Die

2020

2h 43min

Directed by: Cary Joji Fukunaga

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rami Malek, Lea Seydoux, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw, Rory Kinnear, Jeffrey Wright, Ana de Armas, Dali Benssalah, David Dencik, Lashana Lynch, Billy Magnussen

UK release: 2 April 2021

The 25th James Bond film is directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga and sees Daniel Craig in the lead for one last time.

Knives Out

2019

2h 10min

12A

Directed by: Rian Johnson

Cast: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Lakeith Stanfield, Katherine Langford, Jaeden Martell, Christopher Plummer

UK release: 27 November 2019

Logan Lucky

2017

1h 59min

12A

Directed by: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Seth MacFarlane, Riley Keough, Katie Holmes, Daniel Craig

UK release: 25 August 2017

Kings

2017

1h 26min

Directed by: Deniz Gamze Ergüven

Cast: Halle Berry, Daniel Craig, Lamar Johnson

Citrix workspace silent install. Following the life of a foster family in LA amidst the riots that followed the Rodney King trial verdict.

Spectre

2015

2h 28min

12A

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Cast: Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux, Monica Bellucci, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw, Rory Kinnear, Andrew Scott, Dave Bautista, Stephanie Sigman

UK release: 26 October 2015

List Of Daniel Craig Movies

Skyfall

2012

2h 25min

12A

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Written by: John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade

Cast: Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Judi Dench, Ralph Fiennes, Albert Finney, Naomie Harris, Bérénice Marlohe

UK release: 26 October 2012

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

2011

US / Sweden / UK / Germany

2h 37min

Directed by: David Fincher

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgård, Steven Berkoff, Robin Wright, Yorick van Wageningen, Joely Richardson

UK release: 26 December 2011

An investigative journalist (Craig) forms an uneasy alliance with a computer hacker (Mara) in an attempt to solve a disappearance. Fincher amps up the dark poetry and Mara exudes a barely suppressed rage in every scene, elevating a populist novel into a compelling (if overlong) drama of bleakness and corruption.

Dream House

2011

1h 31min

Directed by: Jim Sheridan

Written by: David Loucka

Cast: Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, Naomi Watts, Marton Csokas

UK release: 25 November 2011

The Adventures of Tintin: Secret of the Unicorn

2011

US / New Zealand

1h 47min

Directed by: Steven Spielberg

Cast: Jamie Bell, Andy Serkis, Daniel Craig

Cowboys and Aliens

2011

12A

Directed by: Jon Favreau

Cast: Daniel Craig, Harrison Ford, Olivia Wilde

One Life

2011

Directed by: Michael Gunton, Martha Holmes

Written by: Michael Gunton, Martha Holmes

Cast: Daniel Craig (voice)

Documentary for kids featuring stunning footage of animals in the wild and narrated by Daniel Craig.

Defiance

2009

2h 16min

Directed by: Edward Zwick

Written by: Edward Zwick, Clayton Frohman

Cast: Daniel Craig, Liev Schreiber, Jamie Bell, George MacKay

Flashbacks of a Fool

2008

1h 53min

Directed by: Baillie Walsh

Written by: Baillie Walsh

Cast: Daniel Craig, Harry Eden, Claire Forlani, Felicity Jones, Eve, Emilia Fox, Jodhi May, Miriam Karlin

Quantum of Solace

2008

UK / US

1h 45min

12A

Directed by: Marc Forster

Written by: Ian Fleming, Michael G Wilson

Cast: Daniel Craig, Olga Kurylenko, Mathieu Amalric, Gemma Arterton, Judi Dench, Jeffrey Wright, Giancarlo Giannini

The Golden Compass

2007

US / UK

1h 45min

12A

Directed by: Chris Weitz

Cast: Dakota Blue Richards, Freddie Highmore, Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Sam Elliott, Eva Green, Jim Carter, Tom Courtenay, Ian McKellen, Ian McShane, Ben Walker

The Invasion

2007

1h 39min

Directed by: Oliver Hirschbiegel, James McTeigue

Written by: Dave Kajganich, Wachowski brothers

Cast: Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Jeremy Northam, Jackson Bond, Jeffrey Wright, Veronica Cartwright

Infamous

2006

1h 58min

Directed by: Douglas McGrath

Written by: Douglas McGrath, Book:, George Plimpton

Cast: Toby Jones, Sandra Bullock, Lee Pace, Daniel Craig, Jeff Daniels, Peter Bogdanovich

Casino Royale

2006

US / UK / Czech Republic

2h 24min

12A

Directed by: Martin Campbell

Written by: Ian Fleming

Cast: Daniel Craig, Eva Green, Mads Mikkelsen, Judi Dench

Renaissance

2006

France / UK / Luxemburg

1h 45min

Directed by: Christian Volckman

Cast: Daniel Craig, Romola Garai, Jonathan Pryce

Enduring Love

2004

1h 40min

Directed by: Roger Michellv

Cast: Rhys Ifans, Daniel Craig, Samantha Morton

Based on Ian McEwan's bestseller, a man's worldview is bruised when his attempt to save a boy from a hot air balloon accident goes wrong.

Layer Cake

2004

1h 45min

Directed by: Matthew Vaughn

Cast: Daniel Craig, Sienna Miller, Michael Gambon

A cocaine dealer works his way through two tough assignments from his boss on the day before his retirement.

The Mother

2003

1h 30min

Directed by: Roger Michell

Written by: Hanif Kureishi

Cast: Anne Reid, Daniel Craig, Cathryn Bradshaw

A recently widowed grandmother embarks on an affair with a man half her age, who is also sleeping with her daughter.

Sylvia

2003

1h 40min

Directed by: Christine Jeffs

Cast: Gwyneth Paltrow, Daniel Craig, Lucy Davenport

A biopic of the relationship and fatal attraction between poets Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.

Road to Perdition

2002

1h 57min

Directed by: Sam Mendes

Cast: Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Jude Law, Daniel Craig, Tyler Hoechlin

Daniel Craig Film Clue

2 notes · View notes

saltylikecrait · 5 years

Photo

Happily Ever After - Royalty AU

For @finnreyfridays; bringing this AU to a close after working on it for a year, I invite everyone to attend the wedding of Prince Finn and Rey Solo.

This fic is looooong, so if you’d rather read it on AO3, the link is here.

The weeks before the wedding had seen a noticeable change on the streets of the capital, mainly by vendors. Unofficial memorabilia in colorful designs and well-wishes to the couple were in high demand, particularly when the palace’s own official merchandise sold out within days. It told the royal family that Finn and Rey’s marriage was popular and they were a little shocked to find that the wedding was getting a mass intergalactic following, particularly in the core worlds. Fashion designs inspired by the past looks of the prince and his wife-to-be were being found all over the galaxy and the HoloNet. Florists were thrilled that such a hardy flower was Rey’s favorite and rumored to be part of her bouquet. Chefs all over the galaxy were preparing specials for viewers to eat while they watched the recording of the event. It was a little over the top, but at least the occasion was a happy one.

And Prince Finn’s popularity with the New Republic only grew, which some entertainment analysts contributed to the popularity of the royal wedding. He had found a board of trusted directors to help with the starting phase of his charity and found a lot of support among the New Republic, especially from individuals that had traveled the galaxy and seen the state of worn-torn and poverty-stricken worlds. Though Rey did not like to discuss her childhood with the public and would only allude to it in bits and pieces, Unkar Plutt – the slime – found that he could make a pretty amount of credits by giving “exclusive” interviews to the press, making himself out to be far more generous than he ever was when Rey depended on him for food. Rey had become the unofficial poster child for Finn’s charity, cited as his muse and an example of hope to all the children in the galaxy that found themselves in terrible situations. Rey spat at that last bit, knowing that her situation was extraordinary and that most of the children on Jakku would always go to bed with half-empty bellies and look towards a future with a short life-expectancy and things that children on wealthier worlds would never have to live in fear over. The beings in the New Republic that made her story as some sort of fairy tale that all children should try to emulate were the ones that had never cared to begin with.

But between all the changes, the victories, the failures, and planning, time seemed to both fly by and drag by. One day, Finn and Rey would complain to each other that the date seemed too far away and the next day they were signing pre-written thank-you notes for gifts that had arrived early.

And then, after a nearly sleepless night, they were up before dawn to get ready for the ceremony.

Finn’s father and Poe are the ones to help Finn get ready. There are staff members assigned to help with specific last-minute details, but on Duuna, it is traditional for the men in the family to help the groom get dressed. Finn has no siblings of his own and had thought to ask a cousin to help, but he decided to invite the one person in the galaxy that he thinks of as a brother. Poe had looked so touched that Finn had almost thought he needed to offer Poe a tissue.

They don’t need to do much, it turned out. So excited and happy, Finn had actually put on his uniform pants and undershirt long before they turned up, not that Finn really needs help to get dressed – he is an adult and men’s suits are not particularly tricky to put on. But he had laid the frock coat on a hanger, waiting to be put on the groom. It was a dark red in color, nearly burgundy, as many citizens had argued, but not quite. It hung a little low to the waist, almost resembling a tunic, traditional wedding attire for the royal family. Though Finn never had to fight in his life – and his parents thanked the Maker every day for that – the royal family had still been instructed in some military practices

“Have you ate yet?” Poe asks, looking over at the tray sitting on a small table in a corner with a small assortment of light breakfast foods. Finn probably asked for it to be brought up for them to share as the morning went on.

“Not yet,” he says. “Though I could probably do with some food now.”

So the three of them sit down and spread jams over toast and pour tea and help themselves to some eggs. Suddenly, as they begin to eat, Adron looks serious and clears his throat.

“I wanted to say something…” he begins.

Finn swallows his bit of toast and looks over at Poe briefly before he waits for his father to continue.

"A father is supposed to give his son advice before his wedding, at least, that’s what my father told me before mine. Maybe one day, you’ll be sitting at this table with your own son and do the same.”

Finn sits up a little straighter, listening.

“I think you and Rey got a lot of this already figured out, so forgive me if I say anything that’s a little redundant,” he chuckles. “You’ve already taken on the responsibility for caring for someone else… actually, for many someone elses, but now you will have additional responsibilities to take on the moment that you agree to taking Rey as your wife at the altar. You must always protect and provide for your wife – as she will no doubt do for you. And you must do the same for your children. You’ve never wanted for anything,” he points out, “but as we’ve seen in the past, the galaxy changes and not always for the better. Remember that, and if the worst does happen, Rey and your children must always come first.

“But I promise you, marriage – a happy, loving one – is not all work. You will not have to give up everything you love to do by yourself because you’ve gotten married. You will feel pride knowing that Rey did not need you, but she wanted to be with you anyway. You will be proud to see your children grow up and to see what they become. And one day, when I have left this world, you will be king, and a king is nothing without the love of his family to support him.”

And then, on a lighter note, Adron tells stories of all the funny and stupid things he did back before Finn was born and he and Maia were newlyweds. Finn knows that his father was doing this to end his talk on a lighter note and to make Poe a little more comfortable and not feel like he was intruding on an intimate moment between a father and his son.

When one of the aids knocks on the door to let them know they are ready for Finn, they stand up and Finn holds his arms out to let his father pull the frock coat over him. Poe then finishes the task by adding the different medals to his coat that identify him as the heir to the throne. Poe himself wears a dress uniform from the New Republic military, decorated with real honors from those he had served - far more impressive, in Finn’s opinion.

To finish, the king places a simple gold circlet around his son’s head, fitting snugly across his forehead. The ruby in the center of it matched Finn’s clothes perfectly.

Adron looks his son up and down. “You look like a king today,” he said, pride noting his voice.

Then the three follow the aid to the back entrance to the gardens. Another tradition. Duuna prefers outdoor weddings, another way to honor the land that had provided them with so much. A last-minute check is made to ensure that everything is ready for them, and Finn and his family shake hands with the people waiting in the back to give the prince their well-wishes.

Also that morning, Rey finds herself in one of the royal suites with an army of staff members at her disposal and a million and one things to do to get ready. Both Finn’s mother and her own adopted mother are with her to see her through the process. It had been a little tricky to find a compromise between two different cultural traditions, but since Rey’s culture was technically of Jakku and it wasn’t a world particularly noted for glamorous weddings, she looked to the two women for advice.

“I know you had your heart set on green for the dress, Maia,” begins Leia, “but you’ve got to see why I thought white would be a wonderful choice for Rey.”

The queen looks the dress up and down. “As much as I hate to admit it, but you’re right. The silver is a nice touch for her skin tone, too.”

The dress had been a point of conflict between the two women. Ultimately, they knew the choice was Rey’s, but they each selected three dresses, hoping that Rey would favor one of theirs. As a child, Rey had no idea of a dream wedding, but occasionally spotted holos of women wearing elaborate white dresses. She thought Maia’s selections of green fabrics were beautiful, but she kept finding her hand skimming the fine white silk and silver embellishments of one dresses that Leia had selected and found herself enamored with the dramatic image it gave her. Rey thought the caplet that fell along her shoulders and cascaded in a long train behind her was a little unnecessary, but she noted how it brought attention to her collarbone and neck, places on her body that she knew Finn’s gazed seemed to wander to when her skin was bare to him.

The dress also served as a good compromise to get Han to calm down. Monster-in-law, Master Luke had teased his old friend as he watched Han pull his hair out over how little of say Rey got in the choices of the wedding planning. Rey even told him that she hadn’t minded much; she didn’t know much about weddings to begin with and she did get to choose her dress, flowers, and meal preference, and that was really all she thought that mattered. Even Chewbacca was getting annoyed to the point that he had threatened to lock Han in the latrine of the Millennium Falcon until the wedding began.

“Rey,” Maia finally asks, “how are you feeling? About all of this?” She gestures to the outfit as Rey’s hair is being done in a traditional Alderaanian braid for the occasion. If she didn’t know better, Leia was getting a little teary-eyed as she watched the droid do the work; few humans still knew how to do all the hairdos.

“I-” she begin. “It’s a little overwhelming, but I have my family around me to support me, and I think that’s made it easier. I was worried that you and the king might not have approved of me as a wife for Finn, but I am happy that you accepted me.”

“You are our family,” Maia affirms. “We’ve thought of you as such since you and Finn moved in together. We knew it was just a matter of time before you became a part of it officially.”

“You had a lot of reasons not to accept me,” Rey points out.

“You’re taking on a lot by marrying him,” counters Maia. “I think Leia and Han would agree with me on that one.”

Watching the exchange with quiet interest, Leia nods her head. Rey can tell it's not easy, but Leia is trying to remain the diplomat in the situation by staying quiet and not butting in too much more on the wedding planning. She already caused an uproar over the dress.

Then, she finally speaks. “When Han first messaged me that he was taking a girl under his wing, I had no idea how special you were going to be to him. After I met you finally, even though you were older, Han and I didn’t argue about bringing you in to our family. We knew you were meant to be a part of it.” She pauses, looking a little sad. “I wish Han had found you sooner, is all. When you told us about Finn, we thought you might be taking on more than you could handle, but Han told me you could handle yourself… and well, Finn’s devoted to you. That’s something in a partner that some people will never find in their lifetime.”

“You are pretty amazing,” Maia agrees with a wink.

“And you make a good match,” says Leia. “Finn will not be an ordinary king, I can tell. You compliment him.”

As the droid places a silver band around her head, Rey grips Maia’s hand. “I’m glad you both were part of this moment,” she tells them. “That you’re here with me now. I never thought that I would ever know a mother, and now I get to know two.”

And if Leia had been composed for most of the morning, now she looks like she was about to burst into tears. “Oh, come on,” she huffs, obviously trying to keep on the face she had been putting up so far. “We better get going. Don’t want the bride to be late to her own wedding.”

Luckily, the suite they had selected is close to one of the back entrances to the atrium where the ceremony would be held and Rey does not have to walk far. She does, however, need help with her train. Rose and Paige – her bridesmaids – help with it, carrying it with care and trying to instruct Finn’s littlest of relatives that were volunteered to help with this part to behave themselves. Leia takes time to make sure that everything is straightened out and in place, fumbling one more time with the band before she has to declare that her work was done.

“You two look pretty,” Rey tells her bridesmaids as she looks them over. She had helped them pick out the dresses (with the additional aid of a designer) and thought that the cut and materials flattered Paige and Rose. They both are wearing red dresses, and hold small bouquets of white and red flowers to match. Their hair has been curled for the occasion – Rey briefly wonders how long they had been up – and decorated with white ribbons that curled and cascaded down to their shoulders.

"Not as pretty as the bride today,” Rose quips but Paige looks Rey over with a little concern.

"You look a little tired,” she comments. “Did you and Finn get any sleep last night?”

Stammering, Rey protests. “W-we did… or at least we tried. It was hard.”

“But you feel okay?” Rey wonders if Paige is just checking last minute to help with any pre-wedding jitters. That was something that she always liked about her, maybe it was because she had always tried to look after her own sister. Paige checks on everyone else first before worrying about herself.

But one of the aids rushes in before she could answer. “Are you ready?”

Feeling the nerves settle in the pit of her stomach – really? Now? – Rey takes a deep breath. “We’re ready.” She tries to keep her voice clear and strong. It has nothing to do with hesitation in marrying Finn, but rather, it has everything to do with the fact that this is being filmed for the galaxy to see. But she still doesn’t want anyone thinking she has any doubts.

Leia does one last check of the silver headband to make sure it is perfectly adjusted, then, with a final nod and wistful glance, she steps out of the way and is led out of the hallway by a guard to be shown to her seat next to Ben (who didn’t seem too thrilled to have to go to such an extravagant event, but at least was polite enough to suck it up and deal with going for the sake of family appearances). The queen has already left to take her seat on a throne close to the altar with her husband.

Han approaches her, preferring to keep out of the way of the bride’s prepping up until this point. “Ready?” He offers her his arm.

Rey takes it, and is glad that she has someone to call a father to give her away at her wedding. When she looks up at him, there is a note of pride on his face and she recalls this as a look that Han often had when he talked about the other children that he had taken under his wing that had met their potential or found their own happiness.

“You’re doing fine, kid,” he says. “I think you’ve chosen a good one.”

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she tells him, gratitude not hidden from her voice.

Han looks at her with a little bit of shock. “I- It’s an honor.”

“No, I mean: thank you for being my father.”

And then he sighs and tries to wave the thought away. “Now’s not the time. Don’t wanna make me cry now, do you?”

The guards swing the doors open, and the heralds see their cue to start the wedding march. The guests in the seats of the atrium look behind them, trying to crane their necks to see the bride make her entrance along with her party.

As Rey and Han take their first steps out to the atrium, the guests all stand for her. She knew this would happen, but she is not use to having this many eyes on her at once and in one place. Taking a deep breath, she begins her slow procession down the aisle and makes slight glances to see who in the crowd that she knew personally. Most of the people here have connections to the royal family.

In the front, Luke stands next to a bored-looking Ben Solo. They are both wearing ceremonial Jedi robes from what they had gathered from the old archives. Luke is smiling quietly and makes a shallow nod of his head when his eyes catch Rey’s gaze. Ben makes a similar gesture, acknowledging their familial connection, thought their relationship is nearly non-existent. There had been a time that she had thought to message her adopted brother for advice on how to control her Force abilities, but she ended up thinking better of it, not wanting to annoy him and straining their already tense relationship further. She was surprised to see him here, actually, once believing that he would simply make a polite rejection of the invite. Perhaps he is doing this because his family pressured him to, or maybe he is thinking this as practice for the future when he might have to attend events as a Jedi even if he was uninterested in them.

Besides her son sits Leia, actually in tears now, and Rey realizes that she had never actually seen her adopted mother cry before. She wonders if Leia thought back to her own wedding, where she and Han made their commitment to each other despite the odds and the criticism against them. Rey and Finn have that in common with them. Or maybe, the rare feeling of being overjoyed has just broken through her usual calm demeanor.

She spots the king and queen on a dais closest to the tree and the platform. They too, look overjoyed by the ceremony and glance back and forth between their son and Rey as she approaches the tree.

Rey had walked this aisle in practice a few times before, but now the aisles seem longer than she recalled them ever being. It feels like she wasn’t making any progress at her slow speed, and she knows that Han wasn’t lagging behind either. Finn is waiting for her at a circular stage in the center of the atrium, under the branches of an ancient tree that the royal family had exchanged vows for generations before. He isn’t actually looking at her, and she can tell by the way Poe looks over his shoulder and then turns to whisper something in his ear that Finn is desperately trying to be the very last person to see the bride. It isn’t a tradition of Duuna, though it has been for many of the core worlds and Finn wanted to do just that.

“No such thing as too much luck,” he had told her when they went over potential new traditions to add in to the ceremony.

Finally getting to see his outfit, she admits that the weavers that helped create his jacket have outdone themselves. The gold threads glitter under the sunlight and the red makes him look regal. He reminds Rey of the princes in the stories she sometimes heard on Jakku, the ones that were obviously not real and told for entertainment value. Beings all over the galaxy are probably swooning over Prince Finn, handsome and so, so loving, at this very moment.

And when she finally reaches the stage and stands behind him as Han lets her go and goes to stand to the side next to Poe, the smile Finn gives her as he finally turns around to look at her as his bride for the first time could replace the sun in brightness. Finn is often happy, but here, the happiness reflects in his smile is contagious. He offers her his hand and leads her to stand in the center of the stage with him, underneath the tree.

Then, he raises her hand to his lips and kisses it as he stared up at her face. A flirt until the very end, she thinks, though she doubts that Finn will ever stop acting that way with her even after they married.

Someone in the seats laughs loudly and Poe leans over to whisper, “You might want to save that for tonight, you two. Gotta keep to royal protocol and all.” He winks.

The officiator, a priest from one of the local temples that worships the Force, approaches them and lifts his hands up to the audience. “You may be seated.”

As the audience scrambles into their seats, Rey hands her bouquet of daisies and roses to Paige and then turns back around to face Finn. They hold their arms out, linking their hands together and find themselves lost in each other’s eyes. Rey only hears bits and pieces of the priest’s speech and how the Force had willed these two young souls to be together.

Then, it is Finn’s turn to speak.

“Do you take this woman as your wife, Your Highness?” asks the priest in a rehearsed manner. “Under the tree that has watched over the unions of your ancestors, do you commit yourself to her and swear by the Force to honor and cherish her?”

Finn looks serious when he speaks. “I do.”

Then the priest turns to Rey. “And do you, Rey Solo, take this man as your husband? Do you commit yourself to him and swear by the Force to honor and cherish him?”

“I do.”

Poe approaches them, holding the rings out on a woven tray. The rings are almost too extravagant in Rey’s opinion, studded in diamonds that feel too luxurious for a woman that had to work her way off of Jakku. In the audience, towards the far side of the front row, BB-8 makes a low hoot out of excitement at seeing Poe do his part in the ceremony. There are quite a few chuckles that can be heard.

With the rings exchanged, the priest finally makes his pronouncement: “You may kiss the bride.”

Finn puts his arms around her waist and kisses her, finalizing their marriage.

Finally, they are married.

“I love you,” Finn whispers, his voice barely audible over the applause of the guests.

“I know," she pauses, teasing him. "I love you, too."

The wedding party then begins to escort the newlyweds away from the atrium, back towards the palace for the start of the celebrations. Behind them, Han escorts Paige out with Poe and Rose trailing close to them. The king and the queen will follow after, a rare breech in normal protocol, but one to acknowledge that today is to honor the bride and groom and the future heir to the throne.

The way back up the aisle is a lot less stressful than it was going down it. Now, all they need to do is get to their next step in the ceremony and politely nod and smile to everyone as they pass. Some people, Rey notes, looks like they had even cried during the ceremony.

An open carriage waits for them near the entrance of the atrium, hovering just a few feet above the ground. Paige and Rose rush up to help Finn with Rey’s dress train as she gets in and the three of them makes sure it is draped so that it will not wrinkle or get dirty during the ride. Then Finn climbs in to sit beside her.

When Finn gives the cue to the driver to tell him that they are settled, the driver calls to the two riders on fathiers ahead of them, carrying the banners of the royal family. The speeder begins to creep forward at a slow pace and the guard of four more fathiers and riders behind them follow, carrying the red flags of the world. There is additional security riding in speeders behind them, of course, security is tight, but this guard is here more for ceremonial purpose than actual security.

The gates of the palace swing open, and they are led to the streets of the capital, beginning their procession. Crowds huddle and push together on the street for a glimpse of their prince and his new bride, and if not for the set barriers on the street, the crowds would have probably gotten too close for the speeders and fathiers to get through.

Rey squeezes Finn’s hand and he turns to give her a kiss – the crowd goes wild with cheers and flashes of cameras nearly blind them – before he turns back to the exterior of the speeder and begins to wave to the onlookers.

A white daisy, like the ones that decorate Rey's bouquet, is tossed as an offering by a young admirer. Rey laughs as she catches it and tucks it into the pocket of Finn’s uniform. Now, she turns and waves to the crowd with Finn in genuine happiness and before they know it, the procession is over and they are back at the gates of the palace.

“Lunch time, I think,” Rey says with a bit of relief.

“It’ll be dinner once it’s ended,” chuckles Finn. “Those things go on for a while.”

He offers his hand to Rey, and she takes it, letting him lead her into the formal dining room where a crowd of guests had been seated. Finn and Rey will sit side by side, next to the king as the guests of honor, since Adron and Maia formally are the only ones to be allowed to head the table. Across from them would sit Han and Leia as the parents of the bride. Rey had noted that Luke was seated next to her, on her right from the dining arrangements and she wondered if he or Leia had requested this so that he would be able to speak with her and Finn without having to yell across a table.

The meal is long, with small ensembles of food to taste instead of large feasts. Each region of Duuna contributed a favorite meal as a wish of good health to the new couple and so shorter courses were done to prevent people from feeling sick and to prevent waste.

Occasionally, Rey glances at Finn, noting how he talks to guests and servers with grace and dignity. This is a side that she only gets to see on rare occasions and she realizes that she will probably get to see a lot more of this. She knows Finn doesn't like formal gatherings, so maybe this is the one exception, but had she met him under these conditions she would have found his charm and demeanor impossible to not find attractive. In fact, she might say that seeing this is making her fall in love with him again. He treats everyone with respect and, funnily enough, keeps a notepad with him to take notes after tasting each dish.

“What’s that for?” she nods.

“Taking notes on the meal to make the formal thank you notes to each region a little more personal.”

Poe laughs a few seats away. “And now you see why half the New Republic is in love with him. Thoughtful as ever, even on his own wedding day.”

Towards the end of the dinner, Finn leans over to kiss Rey on the cheek. “You hanging in there?” he asks. “These formal occasions can just dragsometimes.”

“Guess I’ll be getting used to it, then.” She smiles, though she is eyeing one of the first dessert courses that is finally being brought in. “Though I could be convinced to like them if I always got to eat stuff like that.”

He laughs. “Noted.”

They are all feeling fairly stuffed at this point in the celebration, though most of the guests take the advice of the king and pace themselves on the small amounts of food they are given for each course. The newlyweds are feeling a little jittery, knowing that they still have to change out of their wedding clothes and into something a little less formal for their evening celebrations. Then they will be off tomorrow to travel a short distance to a small private estate with minimum staff to have their honeymoon. They will be there for a week to be given privacy as a new couple, then Finn and Rey will begin their tour around the world, greeting the leaders of each region and sightseeing. Finn knows that Rey will be particularly interested in a recent development in a state-of-the-art greenhouse that protected endangered species to Duuna. And once that tour was over, they will return to the capital for a short breather before starting their intergalactic tour. They will stay with Leia and Han for a short time, and also have a visit with Luke at his school, among visiting the New Republic military spots with Poe as a guide.

At last, Finn rises from his seat and offers Rey his hand. The rest of the dining room rises with them and Finn and Rey glances around the room.

Finn clears his throat. “Rey and I want to thank all of you for joining us today. This may be the happiest moment in our lives and we feel honored to be able to share it with you.” He looks to his wife with a fond smile. “I remember the moment we met like it was yesterday. Rey nearly gave me a heart attack shimmying up my balcony to water my plants. Actually, I think she nearly had a heart attack too.”

There are a few laughs around the table.

“Now, we must be excused. The night is going to go on a little longer and we are going to be exhausted tomorrow, no doubt.”

Rey knows that Finn wasn’t being lewd about his wording, alluding to the start of their travels in the morning, but a few of the guests take the expression as a double-meaning and laugh. Across the table, Paige gives her a wink.

Then they head for the door as the king and queen and Han and Leia follow them. They had their things stored in a spare guest bedroom, since they would not have the time to go back to their apartment a few blocks away.

Their parents retrieve boxes from the bedroom and exchange it with their new son-in-law and daughter-in-law. The newlyweds open the boxes and Finn finds that Han and Leia has gifted him with a jacket that looks like it had been custom-made. It's a party jacket with a subtle, blue woven pattern, like the baskets and cloth that Duuna is famous for.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” says Finn. “This is beautiful.”

Rey, meanwhile, opens her own gift from the king and queen and reveals a green dress that looks like it would fall mid-calf. “Guess you’re getting me to wear a green dress after all,” she laughs.

“We thought you’d want to wear it for the evening party,” Maia explains and she goes over to embrace her new family member. “We hope you like it.”

“I love it,” says Rey.

The women and an aid follow Rey into the ‘fresher to help her get out of her wedding dress. Finn laughs as he watches it be carefully wrapped up and taken away for safekeeping. His change is pretty easy, though he takes extra care with the coat and the medals to make sure he didn’t snag anything. Soon, he finds himself waiting out in the guest living room with Han and his father.

Rey emerges about a half-hour later in the new dress and her hair loosened into a new braid.

“Ready to go have one more festivity before we settle into our new life together?” she asks, offering Finn her hand.

He takes it and kisses it before standing up. “Rey, I would be more than happy to do these events for the rest of my life if it means I get to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life.”

“You can’t kick me out now,” laughs Rey. “I’ve just finally moved in the last of my stuff into the apartment. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Nothing sounds more perfect.”

While this series was a way for me to practice world-building, I had a lot of fun coming up with ideas for clothes and traditions for this particular installment. Rey’s dress was inspired by a dress that I am very fond of and that looks very royal-like and is something I could imagine seeing in the Star Wars universe.

Finn’s outfits were designed in my head. I see his wedding clothes be a sort of combination of military jackets commonly seen in royal weddings with tunics often found in fantasy films/television. Rich, deep colors and thicker fabrics would be the look. John Boyega looks wonderful in burgundy and I thought it would be a nice change from the typical black tuxedos that we normally see worn by men at weddings. As for his circlet, I imagine it as a solid band with a simple red gemstone placed at the front. A crown would have been too much for the wedding, but a circlet would be a nice touch.

#finnrey #finnreyfriday #finnreyfridays #my stuff #royalty au #finnrey aesthetic #aesthetic

85 notes · View notes