#azwriting

A scoff of disbelief echoed through the confines of the small faded mask. Of all the ships in the galaxy… The interior of the beat up old freighter had seen better days, it was worn and seedier than she remembered. The walls were discolored and overall, the ship just looked tired.

            Despite her outer appearance of feigned annoyance and mild disgust, (Y/N) felt faint. A cold sweat broke across her concealed forehead and dampened the rest of her skin. Her limbs tingled with the dull pain of numbness, leaving her immobile, and her mouth was drawn together in a pucker from the bitter taste flowing like venom on her taste buds. And she had barely set foot inside, the boarding ramp just behind her. She could not fathom taking another step further.

It was like looking at a life from long ago. No, she swallowed thickly, that was too hopeful. Her eyes flickered around, chest tight with resurfacing pain. Pain that she had tried to extinguish over the years, but to no avail. It was always there inside her and now it was awake.

“Hey, we got the landing gear in decent shape … for now. So ready when you are.” The man with the dark curly hair came around the corner. Poe, he had introduced himself as beneath the quiet winds of Endor. Grease was smudged across his one cheek and his eyebrows furrowed quickly as he took notice of the visor closed on (Y/N)’s mask. His startlement was quite easy to read. It was pleasing to witness the dawning of their realizations that she was not what they had envisioned for an ally. A Force user perhaps, but not her.

(Y/N) was no ally, she was no soldier, not anymore. She actively avoided this war, vanishing to a planet untouched since the end of the Galactic Civil War, a war she heard stories of since her youth. An old war that seemed to define the path of the future. She was determined to stay hidden, an unknown shadow in a forest riddled with remnants of old battles. This desire had almost allowed her to turn her back on the three young Resistance members, but then the melody filled her ears. The song that reminded her why she had disappeared in the first place and why she could no longer stay hidden. Nor could she avoid this fight forever, not when the Resistance stood before her at the request of their General. And as the three intruders began discussing the origin of the bird song, (Y/N) knew she needed to join them before their curiosity grew too much. If she could manage, if it was even a possibility, she would emerge from this fight with her secrets still intact.

“We’re ready.”

Gritting her teeth, (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to glare at the young Jedi. Speaking of secrets… (Y/N) was still shaken from the memory Rey had witnessed when touching the one saber. She had observed as the events unfolded inside the young woman’s eyes and how horrified she had looked. (Y/N) knew the feeling… Still she was furious Rey had touched the saber and in turn revealed a piece of her past. A dark piece too. Worse, she resented the way Rey seemed to connect the dots, drawing together a small part of the truth.

(Y/N) had seen red when the girl voiced her awareness, the dread and sorrow dissipating from her entirely. She could barely control herself when she towered over the young woman and delivered her menacing warning. Rey knew nothing of her story, of her past. A simple glance into a nightmare of a memory did not provide total insight. And (Y/N) had intended for it to be that way, for the truth to be concealed, always.

Rey’s eyes flitted over to hers and the two women were mute, locked into each other, blind to the barrier of the mask. Rey was in shock as well, her telling eyes giving it away. Her mind frantically kept reviewing the night of the fire, replaying the words over and over again. (Y/N) could see the frightened brown eyes that had gazed so intensely down at her that night so long ago. Grimacing, she let the mask drop away from Rey, attempting to block out the image that haunted her for years. Rey’s sympathy and regret also oozed from her aura. (Y/N) did not want it.

Yet, beneath it all she could feel confusion. The girl obviously felt something, something she could not place, something between the two of them. The unsureness left Rey feeling upset and frustrated. She was… naive. Perhaps that was the wrong way to describe it, the girl was smart and resourceful, but with all that was transpiring it fashioned (Y/N) into a sullen creature who was not above being condescending.

(Y/N) was not ignorant though. She knew what the feeling was, it was something she had felt for most of her life until just before she went into hiding. It was a calling, beckoning them closer, a pure and rare connection. In the back of her mind she admitted that it was only appropriate. She knew Rey’s origin, the Force illuminating it so, and with who (Y/N) was it only made sense that the Force would connect them all. But she would offer no solace, she could not provide it, not like this, when she was drowning in anguish. And as she had so clearly stated before she was nobody’s hope, just a child of the Force, lost among the stars.

(Y/N) did not speak nor spare another glance as she turned to leave the two Resistance members in the corridor. “The main hold is just-” Poe spoke but she only raised her hand, efficiently silencing him. She knew where she was going. It was burned into her memory, leaving a scar just like everything else.

As she followed the curved path of the corridor, (Y/N) caught a glimpse of the cockpit just down the adjoining hall. Her throat tightened and a fiery ache erupted inside her at the sight, the quick movements of gold plating and dark brown fur coming from inside only added to the pain.

A day in the thick Endorian forest beneath the basking glow of the rising sun, resurfaced in her mind. (Y/N) recalled freezing in her tracks, her possessions slipping from her hands as unbearable pain bursted inside her. She had fallen to the moss covered ground, clutching roughly at her chest, tears stinging in her eyes. Through the Force she had felt pure agony, but she was uncertain if it had been the father’s or the son’s.

Tears pricked her eyes now and the ill feeling in her intensified. Stumbling forward, her legs felt twice their weight but it was an afterthought to the screaming in her head instructing her to get away. But she could not escape, not now. She was stuck on this ship, stuck with remembering.

The main hold came into view and (Y/N)’s knees gave out, dropping her into the rounded bench. The table before her used to host many games now it was just empty, abandoned. Much like the past and the future dreamt of. Her trembling elbows came to rest on the surface and she let out a breathy exhale.

Closing her eyes, she cradled her durasteel covered head in her clammy hands. It was as if she could hear the voices of the past: children running through the many halls, the motherly scolding to be careful, hiding in the smuggling compartments only for the hatch to be lifted and that familiar head of dark hair with hidden silver strands to peer down with that infamous smirk and coy laugh. That was all gone now, dead.

A shudder raked over her stiffened body. It felt as if she could not breathe, a weight pressing down on her lungs. Her dominant hand trailed down to her worn green tunic and pressed firmly against the indent of her sternum, seeking any relief to the pressure she could find.

The voices of the past seemed to louden, tumbling over each other until they turned into streams of noise, like a ship jumping into lightspeed. (Y/N) took a deep breath and mentally scolded herself. She needed to regain her control, she needed to focus on the task at hand so she could return to Endor as soon as possible. She already missed the lush greenery and the fresh air, the air she could breathe in, where the reminders of the past were not so painful. But it was not so easy, the noise would not quiet, and the torment would not subside.

This was looking death in the eyes.

“We’ll be your new home, if you’d like.”

“Found ya, kids. You know you two would make good smugglers one day.” “Han!”

“I’m not scared of you. I’m not B-”

A presence entered the area, pulling (Y/N) out from the labyrinth she had been lost in. She was unsure how long had passed, the snare in her mind too difficult to escape. The weakness growing inside allowed for all of this to slip past the barricades she had built. (Y/N) was almost glad for the interruption as it prevented the worst from slipping through. The very thing she had entombed deep within herself. The monster that would drown her.

She did not lift her head nor spare any acknowledgement to indicate she knew of the other person here. She did not want to be asked any more questions, not from her. The inquisitive girl was awfully quiet though…

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) caught sight of Rey, who stood motionless on the other side of the small room. Her eyes were glazed over with rumination and almost entirely unfocused as she stared in (Y/N)’s direction. What was she seeking out?

Rey blinked returning from her deep trance with a look of somber falling onto her face. She looked down, seeming to be conversing with herself inwardly. Her hands danced around at her sides like she was playing an invisible instrument, it made (Y/N) anxious. It seemed as if the girl was debating over whether or not to say something. Rey’s fingers suddenly flexed outwards, reflecting the decision she had come to. Rey took a small step forward, lips parting to speak. (Y/N) winced in preparation.

“I can feel the turmoil inside you, the pain in remembering.” Her words struck a small match inside a dark hidden corner of (Y/N)’s mind. The giddy laughter of a boy playing in a meadow flashed across her mind. It was gone in a second, like a match dying out, but it had left its mark. (Y/N) staggered up, ignoring the dull ache that spread up her leg as she hit it against the round table. She could not breathe, could not find the strength to beg Rey to stop before she continued to harm her.

“I felt your fear on Endor.” Children, a boy and a girl, sat beneath the sinking sun imitating the call of the birds sorrowing above. A gasp tumbled out of (Y/N)’s quivering lips, her head furiously shaking and demanding for the brunette to stop.

“You must have hope…” A grand ball, swirls of gowns, and shared timid glances. Her hands flew to the sides of the helmet as if she could block out Rey’s voice and the misery that followed.

“Hope for this war…” Fire consumed the large divine structure of a temple. Closing her eyes (Y/N) whimpered, pressing a hand to her abdomen. She felt dizzy, her surroundings spinning as her mind did.

“Hope for him.” (Y/N)’s head shot up, her eyes snapping open. The words were barely audible as they escaped Rey, almost as if she knew how dangerous it would be to utter them. And indeed they were…

“No.” (Y/N) choked out desperately trying to suppress what memories were being illuminated by the match, but it was too late, the damage was done. The monster was free. Hair as dark as night, soft pleading eyes filled with sadness and adoration. Sweet words and caresses, comfort sought out beneath the starry sky, bright smiles by the glistening lake.

The main hold began to tremble, durasteel creaking as her hands curled into tight fists. Her vision transformed into the red hot fury it had on Endor when the girl had spoken of the memory. Anger coursed through her veins, her connection to the Force strengthening, and (Y/N) fixated on the foolish girl, ready to unleash.

“Hope?” She spit out in disgust. “I held out hope for so long,” (Y/N) took menacing steps forward as Rey retreated slowly. A hand outstretched, willing something roughly into its grasp. “Look where it’s gotten me!”

Before Rey had a moment to absorb the resentment in (Y/N)’s voice or question what she truly meant by her words, a beam of indigo illuminated the room. Lunging forward, (Y/N) hovered the blade of light an inch above Rey’s throat.

The naive Resistance member knew nothing of her, of where she came from, of what she faced, of who she truly was… No one did. And yet, Rey felt she could tell her to have hope. (Y/N) would have laughed if she could have. Hope was the reason she had ended up on Endor, hidden and carrying the burden of lies and death. Hope was for children.

Glaring down at the young woman, (Y/N) could feel the Force surrounding them blaze to life with such an intensity that she was forced to suck in a harsh breath. The vivacious current penetrated her and flowed through Rey as well, blindly connecting through energy, through life. It was overpowering to the senses but (Y/N) already felt numb. Nonetheless she drank in the feeling of connection. It reminded her of the whole and pure feeling she had felt her whole life before it had been torn from her soul, leaving a hollow ache that never faded.

Realization dawned upon her in the midst of all this and (Y/N) focused on Rey. Fear pooled in the hazel irises of the girl, mirroring the fearful brown eyes that had pleaded to her the night of the fire. Rey was the reason the barricades that protected her were crumbling down. She was why the memory of him was resurfacing. The reason why (Y/N) was crumbling down too.

“You’re no Jedi.” Rey breathed out, eyes cautiously flickering between the ignited lightsaber tightly grasped in (Y/N)’s dominant hand and the closed visor of the mask. A position she had found herself in for the second time that day.

Her words took (Y/N) by surprise, but she was not wrong. She could read Rey’s inner thoughts of confusion, the inability to fully understand the duality she felt surrounding (Y/N)’s aura. It was unlike anything Rey had felt and yet the girl’s mind knew the importance of it. Fear began to dissipate from Rey’s eyes instead being replaced by curiosity. But that was enough to douse (Y/N)’s temper. 

Curiosity was worse.

With a soft whoosh her lightsaber was turned off and sheathed back onto her worn leather belt. “No, I’m not.” Her voice was lower, but still taut. (Y/N) took a weak step backwards and only then did the last match flare up. “You and I were written in the stars, brought together by the Force.”

The rich voice echoed across her mind and (Y/N) had to bite her bottom lip to contain the sob threatening to rip through her. Oh how far life had strayed from those evenings in the meadow underneath the sky and the breathtaking colors of dusk. How far they had strayed from the ways of the Jedi. How far they had strayed from such an intertwined destiny. But it was the only way… to be shrouded in lies and deception.

“The Jedi are dead.” With that (Y/N) turned swiftly, exiting the main hold.

Taglist: 

Everything We Need - Chapter One

Sympathizers - Chapter Two

No Identity - Chapter Three

There’s No “I” in Escape - Chapter Four

Priorities - Chapter Five

Somewhere Safe - Chapter Six

A Tragedy - Chapter Seven

A Faded Tombstone - Chapter Eight

Noise - Chapter Nine

Another Life - Chapter Ten

Never Was There a Story... - Chapter Eleven

... Of More Woe - Chapter Twelve 

Secrets - Chapter Thirteen 

Redemption - Chapter Fourteen

Of all the planets in the galaxy….

Kylo scoffed as he exited docking bay 94, sweat already gathering on his brow. The twin suns clung to his thick black fabric, an uncomfortable itch blooming across his skin from the sweltering heat seeping through his layers. The dry breeze whipped rough and coarse sand across the exposed skin of his face, making him regret shattering his mask all that time ago. Not only would it shield him from the dry and unforgiving air, but conceal him from the inevitable prying eyes and hide the slightest tremor of a chewed raw lip.

Swallowing roughly Kylo’s eyes fell onto the building straight ahead, silently cursing the Maker. Why here of all places? A place with such a rich history, a place he was ultimately tied to no matter how hard he tried to sever it. A part of his blood was comprised of this sand and blistering heat, it was what left him harsh and intolerable to even the people of the same descent.

His jaw involuntarily clenched and Kylo’s palms shook from the overwhelming thoughts and emotions threatening to rise to the surface. This had been a test for himself, to see if he could complete this mission without giving into the anguish inside. So far, he was failing.

The cantina was overcrowded, every available space filled with some sort of being or droid. The loud hum of conversations blurring together made his ears ring, the smell of stale malt and sweat making his face twist up in disgust. It was a familiar aroma, one he could easily find in any cantina across the stars, something he knew from the late nights as a child when he would stay up to greet the pilots of a beat up old freighter. They had always smelled like they had bathed in liquor after returning from jobs, fur especially retained the stench. Kylo’s normal scowl was now replaced by a frown of displeasure.

Kylo had to remind himself why he had come to this wretched hive before he drowned in the sea of memories, so dark eyes turned to search the crowd for what he sought after.

Against the back wall, a line of booths were filled, all except one. It was as if everyone in the cantina purposefully avoided the seemingly empty table, leaving the largest gap they could manage between them and the carved out corner. Kylo assumed it was why the already small area felt even tighter. He could only imagine one reason as to why it was left abandoned during such a swamped time. Squinting his eyes, Kylo caught the briefest movement of a shadow, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

He was right. They were avoiding her…

His heavy boots clunked against the sandstone, gaining the attention of bystanding smugglers, spice runners, and others who were probably wanted on at least twelve systems. It was not the best company to keep, despite the high rank he now held he could still hear the scolding from his youth to be cautious. Shaking away the voices of the past, Kylo continued forward ignoring the eyes that followed and the whispers that carried across the intoxicated crowd.

Hidden in the shadows of the empty booth sat a woman, feet kicked up onto the table, and a vibrant blue drink in hand.

“Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order.” The woman spoke, her eyes never drifting away from her glass. He was not even aware that she had noticed him, but like everyone else in this small cantina she did.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), legendary bounty hunter.” As her name rolled off his lips her face lifted to peer up at him. She was younger than he expected, too young to have acquired the word “legendary” in her name, and yet … she had. A smirk overtook her features and mischief gleamed in her eyes… Kylo was not sure if he liked that.

A calloused hand rose to gesture to the empty spot across the table, the sharp smell of blaster residue trickling up and into his nose. It made him wonder if she had just been in a shoot out or if she always smelled like this.  As Kylo slid down into the bench across from her, (Y/N)’s boots dropped from the table, leaving speckles of sand and dried clumps of mud and grass. An indication that she had just returned from somewhere else…

“To what do I owe the pleasure, all mighty Supreme Leader?” Her voice rose an octave as she innocently batted her eyes at him. Kylo quirked an eyebrow up at the hunter’s antics, bewildered that she felt comfortable enough to mock him so openly… others had died for less.  

“Don’t call me that.”

A chuckle sounded from the young woman, “Why not? Aren’t I supposed to grovel at your feet?” Kylo shook his head, not enjoying this game she was playing. “Or would you prefer I called you by your real name?”

Kylo tensed at that, his real name? How did she even know it? His face must have displayed his confusion because a light scoff sounded from (Y/N)’s mouth. She was all noise and dramatic effects… an uncommon find in a highly regarded bounty hunter. “Please give me some credit,” she paused pushing her faded black sleeves up to her elbows, “There’s only one family in this galaxy that is at the frontline of all these wars.”

Kylo’s lips parted ready to argue against her claim, but he could not muster any defense. She was right. What other family had been a central part of history for the past 60 some odd years? He was not naive enough to discredit her, he was a descent of that bloodline. It was why it was so difficult to be here. He did not answer her, instead choosing to turn the conversation towards her and why he was here on this dreadful hot planet.

“Why is a bounty hunter of your talents on Tatooine? The Guild has not operated here in over three decades.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, the fact that he was dismissing her question and statement entirely did not slip past her. Yet, she purposefully took the bait and allowed for the conversation to shift, she herself was curious as to why he was here. “I’m not a part of the Guild.”

“How do you find work then?”

(Y/N)’s carefree smirk once again fell onto her lips, “People will venture to the edge of the galaxy to offer me jobs, just like you.” Kylo let out a frustrated sigh still baffled by her ease. This hunter found nothing to fear in him, knowing he needed her and would not compromise getting what he wanted. She was much too smart and it was infuriating.

“If you’re looking for the Resistance I don’t know where they are. I cut ties with my few contacts awhile ago.” She exhaled, taking a sip of her drink before placing it back onto the table.

“After Hosnian?” Kylo questioned watching the shift in her demeanor. Sharp eyes sprung up and glared at him with such a fire that the Supreme Leader felt the need to straighten his posture. He leaned back carefully distancing himself from the intensity of her gaze, silently acknowledging he hit a nerve.

A forced laugh, one that was void of any humor, filled their small booth. “Someone did their research.” (Y/N) was right, he had done his research. Kylo had read the file saved from the archives of the New Republic of a girl born in poverty in the Hosnian system. “Need I remind you, the destruction your people caused.” The huntress leaned forward as he felt something cold press against his inner thigh underneath the table… a blaster.

“So I suggest you chose your next few words wisely.”

“I need your help.” His words came out a little rushed, too rushed for a man of such power.

“Clearly.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and dug her blaster a little closer, the sensation making Kylo jump. He was unsure if it was the heat from the binary suns getting to him or the overwhelming emotions inside of being in a place that used to be home to people that he wished to forget, but the thrill of it all was making him slightly turned on. He was certainly not in the right mindset.

“I’m looking for something special and I need your skillset and connections.” Kylo swallowed thickly, dark eyes searching the face of the bounty hunter who was managing to crawl her way underneath his skin. He should have been concerned about eavesdropping outlaws, not wanting them to hear what he was in search of, but he could not focus on anything else. He felt dizzy like he had been intoxicated by the wildflower of Naboo.

“What are you looking for?” The pressure against his inner thigh lightened, but the blaster still remained serving as a silent reminder.

“I’m afraid that’s classified.” (Y/N)’s mouth twitched up, her jaunty state returning, a direct result of him piquing her curiosity.

“How am I supposed to help you find it then?” She interrogated leaning closer. Her hot breath fanned across his face mixing with the cold pressed against his leg, sending shivers down his spine. 

Kylo gulped lowly, “I imagine you’re skilled enough.”

He should have been focused on the potential threats around them or how much this job was going to cost him, but he simply could not. No, all he could focus on was how enticing the huntress’ lips looked as she responded. 

“In more ways than you know.”

Taglist: 

(Y/N) rolled up her sleeves as she entered the med bay on the Resistance base, her normal easy going smile plastered across her face as always. Finn had told her once when she had to bandaged up his arm that if it were possible to bottle the binary suns, it would look like her smile. The remark had only made her smile wider and Finn groan, claiming to be going blind. 

She could not help it; she enjoyed her work, enjoyed helping people, but more recently she enjoyed seeing her favorite patient, especially with the exciting news she brought. He was new to base and was the complete opposite of her: a chip on his shoulder, rare smiles, and sarcasm oozing from every word he uttered. Despite it all, she could not help but like him and hoped that one day he would smile more.

Entering the small med bay room, (Y/N) stifled a laugh at the sight of her patient’s long body crammed onto the stiff mattress. “Good Morning Ben.” She greeted, his eyes lifting to hers instantly. His lips twitched up at her before he nodded in acknowledgement. “Comfortable?” She teased earning her a scowl. 

“Oh yes, extremely.” His dry tone had her giggling in her hand as she stepped closer. He shifted to sit upright in bed, wincing at the pain shooting through his side and leg. She was unsure what had happened when Rey and Ben went up against the Emperor but whatever did, it had taken its toll on him. Resulting in a few cracked ribs and a broken leg. Lifting up the side of his standard white hospital shirt, she was pleased to see the bruises and swelling had begun to go down. His connection to the Force was allowing him to heal faster than the average person, but he was still under strict orders to stay on bed rest, by the one person he would not dare to argue with. General Organa. 

(Y/N) frowned, “I’m sorry we don’t have larger beds to accommodate your size, whenever Chewie’s injured we have to push two beds together!” Ben laughed lightly and her stomach did flips. He did not laugh often but when he did, she felt like a Star on the brink of going supernova.

“What’s on the schedule today Doc?” (Y/N) smiled moving to his side where the cabinets were, in search of the pain medication. 

“Well funny you ask, I’m sure you’ve heard the talk around the base, but the higher ranking officials are throwing a celebratory party in honor of the defeat of the Emperor and the Final Order.” She paused watching Ben nod along beside her. “Well I think you should go, stretch your legs… figuratively!” 

Ben snorted and (Y/N) laughed as well, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies erupting in her stomach. It was cruel of the Universe to give her such a reaction over the simplest sound. “And just enjoy yourself for once, I’d be happy to go with you!” 

Ben let out an uneasy sigh, surely hesitant about the idea. She was positive he still felt like an outsider, granted he had been instructed to remain in the med bay. Although ever since he had arrived a few days ago, renouncing the Dark side, he had been reluctant to interact with anyone besides his mother, Rey, and herself. Now that she was unsure of, many on base had accepted his return, viewing him as the hero he was for bringing down the Emperor.

“Not sure if you can tell, but I’m not exactly a people person.” Handing him his medication and a glass of water, (Y/N) offered him a chuckle. 

“Oh I can tell.” He swallowed the medicine quickly and chugged the glass of water before handing the empty glass back to her. “I think it would be good for you, to get out of here for a bit.”  

He shook his head immediately, “No I’m okay. I should probably just stay and rest.” (Y/N) sighed growing frustrated. Why could he not take the hint that she wanted to go with him? She was not going to let him off that easily, so she continued to poke.

 “Oh c’mon Ben, it’ll be fun! We can get wasted off of cider and bask in the glory of everyone’s awful dancing!” 

“I said no, can you just drop it?” His voice was quiet but rough and full of frustration, enough for her to take a step back. Her smile fell, a deep frown taking its place. His eyes lifted to hers and instant regret seemed to rise within. 

“(Y/N)-” 

Her hand flew up stopping him. She did not want to hear anything from him, not now. “I’ll be back in a few hours to see how you’re doing. Try and get that much needed rest.” With that she left, no smile in sight.

Ben sat in the small bed, filled to the brim with regret. His words played over and over again in his head. Ever since returning to the Light he had felt… odd. He was comfortable with himself for once, but felt the exact opposite around others. Specifically people he did not know, with the exception of (Y/N). 

Oh when he first saw her with that bright smile, he felt better immediately, the pain he was in dulling in response. It had only been a few days but he had grown fond of her and the time they shared together. She was a pure soul though and he was, well, not. Even returning to the Light could not cleanse the fragments of darkness from his soul. But it did not grant him the right to behave like that, to snap at her, it was not her fault. 

No, instead he should of turned on that sauve charming personality his father had passed down to him. He could just hear his father from the beyonds, chastising him for not charming his way into her heart, for bringing disgrace to the Solo name. 

“Sorry Dad.” Ben mumbled, chuckling to himself.

“What did you do?!” 

He heard her before he saw her… Ben looked up, ice running through his veins as if he was just but a boy again and was caught breaking that priceless vase from Alderaan. He had to remind himself that he was a grown man and being grounded was no longer an option… although one would say she had grounded him to this bed. 

Leia abruptly entered his small room, a wrinkled finger pointing at him accustationingly. Ben’s lips parted, unsure how to even answer, unsure of what his mother was even asking.

 “What did you do to (Y/N)? She’s been glum, angry even, all afternoon! Half the base is in a panic!” Ben swallowed thickly, hearing the consequences of his stupidity. He had turned a ray of sunshine into a dark stormy cloud.  

“Why do you assume it was me that did something?” He shot back, but his mother only narrowed her eyes in response. Ben let out an audible sigh in defeat sinking further into the mattress. “She wanted me to go to that party and I refused.” Leia shook her head, shuffling over to hover above him. 

“Were you snippy?” 

Rolling his eyes he looked up to his mother offended, “Snippy? Really Mom?” Leia let out a huff of annoyance, two of her fingers traveling down to press into his bruised side. The pressure elicited a groan from him and he relinquished into his mother’s prying eyes. “Fine! Yes I messed up!” He messed up, ruining the chance to have a true friend and possibly something else entirely.

A hand came down to run through his messy curls, pulling him up once again to his mother’s knowing eyes. He wanted to fidget under the intensity of her eyes and overbearing silence, just waiting for her to say something. 

“You like her.” 

It was no question, just his mother stating what she already knew. And she knew him better than he would care to admit. Ben nodded slowly, leaning into her touch, “How do I fix it?” 

Leia laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You already know, your father always did.”

Nighttime had fallen over Ajan Kloss, the stars shining bright over the Resistance base. Most people were gathered around the many fires raging, all laughing as various liquors brought out joyful bliss in all. Yet, (Y/N) stood to the side, clutching her untouched glass of cider, a scowl still planted firmly on her lips. 

Everyone had been concerned all day, the vivacious young doctor had been dejected all day. It warmed her heart that her people cared so much for her, but it was not enough to break her out of her blues. It was foolish to assume Ben would want to accompany her, that he saw her as more than just his caregiver, that he reciprocated the new feelings bubbling inside her. 

“I gotta say you’re cute when you’re angry.” A deep voice spoke from behind her. (Y/N) almost dropped her cup of cider as she turned to face the familiar voice.

 Ben stood behind her, his plain white clothes replaced by a pair of dark blue pants and white shirt rolled up to his elbows. His curls looked as if someone had attempted to groom them, but now it only looked like fingers had been running through them endlessly. A crutch was placed under one of his arms as he smiled sheepishly down at her. She bit her tongue, suppressing the smile blooming within. She could not let him get off so easily. 

“Nice of you to show up.” She deadpanned and Ben laughed wobbling closer… His rare laugh that she was sure could restore life in any living thing. 

“So that’s how we’re going to play this?” (Y/N) was sure she could taste blood as she shrugged nonchalantly, her sparkling eyes giving her away to Ben. He sighed stepping closer, practically hovering over her. She had to look up to see him at such close proximity. His beautiful eyes softened gazing down at her, his lips twitching as he fought his own smile. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, this is all new to me.” His free arm gestured around to the crowds of people and then to just the two of them. 

(Y/N) released her tongue and offered him a small smile, before standing on her tippy toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek in forgiveness. “It’s okay, but try and use your words next time there big boy! Now how about I help you get a drink and some food?” Ben nodded graciously, a deep blush painting his cheeks red, and followed her to the canopy covered table of food. “Oh I can introduce you to everyone too!” 

Despite the large grin he wore, and genuine happiness he felt Ben looked down at her and said, “Don’t make me regret this.”

Taglist:

“This is a bad idea.”

The words floated through the Razor Crest, residing between the two warriors. Despite the regulated air system onboard the beat up old ship, the air was thick with tension. A tension that had unfortunately been building for a while, since their departure from Mos Eisley.

(Y/N) did not spare a glance in his direction as she finished securing her last piece of armor to her torso. She did not spare a glance when she heard the familiar sigh escape the beskar steel helmet or when she heard his blaster drop into the worn leather holster. She knew it was useless to keep bringing it up, but it was a bad idea. Her gut told her so…

“We talked about this… ” (Y/N) involuntarily rolled her eyes. Their discussion had consisted of the two of them engaging in a screaming match, one where the only result was them waking the child. It had not been her intention nor the Mandalorians, she was sure of that much, yet it happened anyways.

(Y/N) was used to being alone. She had not followed a chain of command since her Rebellion days and even then she had not followed very well or very willingly. She could take care of herself and had been fending for herself since her youth. Maker, she was still alive if that gave her any credit. Now being constantly around someone, someone who infuriatingly tried to make all the decisions, it was … a difficult adjustment. Their blissful stage seemed to have died after the whole incident on Tatooine, it was as if Mando had forgotten his very words to her when they left.

“We don’t have to fight alone anymore.”

And now it just seemed that all they did was fight against one another, neither one being able to agree on anything. Especially that she could be of use in this upcoming mission, but no he wanted her to stay with the child, benched on the sidelines. It was infuriating, making (Y/N)’s blood boil. She was annoyed with Mando’s constant orders, with his need to be in control, with the stupid sultry way his voice sounded through the modulator when they argued, with the way his body clad in that threateningly beautiful armor loomed over hers. Most of all, she hated the way her body responded to it all, it was… frustrating.

“We don’t have any other options.” Mando continued, a deep sigh tumbling from his helmet. (Y/N) shook away her drifting thoughts, internally trying to sum it all up to annoyance, exhaustion, and the small confines of the Razor Crest.

To be honest with herself, all she wanted was to go a couple rounds with him. In a fight, she added feeling the need to clarify even if it was only to herself. She wanted to feel the adrenaline coarse through her very being, electrifying her into the resilient warrior she was trained to be. Maybe she would fight her equally well trained opponent with a weapon or perhaps they would spice it up and she would use her bare hands. Yes, (Y/N) smirked softly to herself, she could envision it now.

“The galaxy is big, I’m positive there is.” Without much thought, (Y/N)’s eyes drifted up and over to the gleaming beskar. The helmet, his helmet, was already tilted down staring at her. (Y/N) swallowed thickly, heat creeping up the back of her neck. Mutely, she cursed her multitude of dark layers as if they were to blame even in the depths of frigid space.

Still their eyes remained locked together, despite the obvious barrier concealing his from the normal eye, but she knew where his eyes were. She could find where they resided with ease now, for (Y/N) did not have the normal eye. No, she had the eyes of the Reaper…

(Y/N) did not like this, not one bit. After all the heated conversations of the late, she did not enjoy the silence, the brutal tense silence. She would rather dive head first into a sarlacc pit or fight off a Rathar than deal with the unease brewing between them. She had never experienced such discomfort before, but then again this was the longest she had been in the company of someone in a while, especially someone like the Mandalorian.

He broke away first, leaving her to mentally digest the fact that there was no possibility of breaking Mando out of this delusion. This was going to happen and it would not go the way he thought and she would be left behind unable to help. She wanted to convince him, persuade him otherwise, but it would not be right. And as much as she did not want to admit it, someone did need to watch after the child. He was too important to be left alone in the hands of the unpredictable.  

Hands sliding upwards, (Y/N) clutched the rough and well past exhausted fabric of her hood, moving it to conceal her features. What they were about to face was dangerous, filled with uncertainty and risks. She was not sure what they would be walking into and what measures would need to be taken if this went haywire, but the Reaper needed to be on standby. Who knew what actions she would be required to take…

Cracked worn leather seized her hands, halting them in their attempt to conceal her face. A staggered gasp flew from (Y/N)’s mouth, eyes shooting up to the man beside her. Why had she not noticed his movement? Her reflexes felt out of touch lately, probably from lack of use. Nonetheless, she was not used to physical contact, not the contact that was calm and gentler, the kind that would not get her killed. Although with the way her heart rate spiked, the brink of death could be closer than she thought.

“Don’t.”

The Mandalorian’s voice was stern and deeper than usual. (Y/N) imagined it was the voice his targets heard just before he pulled the trigger. Yet, there was something unidentifiable woven into it, something that made her lips part in the slightest and the heat creep further up her neck threateningly close to her face.

An eyebrow quirked up, “Why?” She could not help but question him. Why did he not want her to put the hood on? Did he not want her face hidden? It was a strange notion coming from a man whose face was always hidden.

The Mandalorian let out a soft exhale, his grip on her hands loosening until the warmth of his touch left her completely.  “I know you solely operated out of your own self interest,” His hand traveled down, a finger faintly caressing a lock of her hair. It was unfamiliar, such a delicate action coming from hands coated thickly by the sharp stench of blaster smoke. It made the hair on the back of (Y/N)’s neck stand up despite the heat bursting beneath her skin. “But, there are many who believe the Reaper is just a soldier of the New Republic.”

(Y/N) scoffed loudly, “As if I would be a piece in their game of Dejarik.” The New Republic had grown too invested in their rebuilding of democracy that it seemed they had forgotten the scattered remains of the Empire still lurking in the shadows of the galaxy. How could one go forth in restoration if Imperials still plagued systems outside of the core worlds? (Y/N) knew the answer and even more so she knew that their ignorance would come back to bite them exceptionally hard in the ass one day.

Another huff emitted from the Mandalorian, “I know, but a group of mercenaries who act outside the laws of the New Republic…”

“Wouldn’t want to take the chance of being around a supposed puppet of the Republic.” (Y/N) finished for him, clenching her jaw tightly. She roughly rubbed the skin above her brow, irked to her very core. This day was proving to be more difficult than she had anticipated and it was already giving her a headache. She did not like the idea of being exposed around people she did not know, let alone mercenaries, but what other choice did she have? She could not endanger the child’s life or Mando’s…

(Y/N) let the black hood fall to rest against her back, twisting to face the man hidden behind so much armor. “Look I know you don’t agree with me about all of this, but it’s the only option we have right now.” Mando defended, his head tilting down to look at her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and shook her head in dismay. Yes they were on the run from the Guild, but to assume that all their other options were burned did not make sense.

(Y/N) broke away from her sour thoughts when she felt the cold beskar steel press against her abdomen. Unknowingly, she had drifted closer to his imposing figure. Despite her own armor, the frigid chill of the beskar could be felt against her torso as if her bare skin was flushed against it. At the thought of her bare skin pressed against the Mandalorian, (Y/N) gulped. Her eyes warily lifted to the dark visor, seeing it still tilted down looking at her.

He was as motionless as she was, both frozen together as they stared silently. This was different compared to the harsh words exchanged over the course of the previous days. It was different compared to anything else (Y/N) had felt previously. Her frustration seemed to boil over though, her body searing all over. She mentally pondered how the beskar had not begun to melt. Eyes still locked together, she swallowed thickly unsure of how to proceed at such a proximity. Did she continue her argument with him? Did she silently stay pressed against him in hopes of something … else?

A loud beeping coming from the cockpit seemed to decide for her. (Y/N) jumped back, eyes wide in alarm. The startling noise had her pulling away from the Mandalorian, leaving her to feel hollow and flustered. Eyes not daring to meet Mando’s, she instead looked up to the concealed cockpit where the beeping continued. They were nearing their destination…

“Fine.” (Y/N) broke the silence, her voice lacking the vigor it possessed just moments ago. “Whatever you say, Partner.” Her eyes held onto the floor of the Razor Crest as she stalked away overcome by a swirl of strange emotions.

Too caught up in her own internal inferno (Y/N) missed the way the leather gloves, the same ones that stoked the very fire that burned inside her, lingered in the air attempting to grasp something that was no longer within reach.

Mando could barely focus on the task at hand, a task that required critical attention. He could not afford a slip up just because of his own carelessness, but the Mandalorian could not turn his attention away from the Razor Crest.

The ship was sitting idle inside the hangar bay of Ran’s space station. He was not concerned about the ship that would now be accompanying him on this job per se, it was old and had served him well beyond its intended use. No, he was concerned for the two hidden on board.

As he watched the droid, Zero as the team called it, board his ship, Mando's stomach heaved with uncertainty. He should have dropped them on some small uninhabited planet where they could have been safe, but instead he had brought them even closer to danger, once again. Although with the way (Y/N) had been behaving lately, she would have never gone along with it.

She argued against every word that slipped out of his helmet. Particularly when it came to the subject of this job and her lack of participation in it. Running from the Guild and remaining Imps loyal to the Warlord client on Nevarro left the two warriors and the child with little to no options. (Y/N) was a fighter unlike anything he had ever seen but, he could not risk her working among this motley crew. Mando did not like the fact that he had to resort back to his past, but he had to protect the kid and (Y/N) no matter what, whether she liked it or not. And as it would seem she was not fond of the idea or anything of the late.

Ever since Tatooine, she had been different, stiffer, dare he say frightened. Although he did not know of what. He had been alone for so long, a part of him locked away inside the Mandalorian creed that he did not know what it was like to be a part of something that contrasted so greatly against his upbringing. (Y/N) was so strikingly different from him or anyone he had ever met, it was shocking that they had even coexisted together for so long. Mando knew that she was aware of his belief, but (Y/N) never disputed it. She let him believe they were complete oppositions, but he could see her wanting to fight it. She was unwilling though to share their similarities, unwilling to share anything about herself or her past. Although he assumed she was unable to, with the truth locked away it left her lips sealed shut. It was strange compared to others he had met in his travels. Others felt the need to share parts of their stories wherever they went, unlike himself and others who swore the Mandalorian creed. His past, the boy he once was, the person he once was to be, was buried deep down because of a way of life. (Y/N)’s was buried so carefully and meticulously that it could have only been for one reason… survival.  

Her secretive nature and the thought of her hidden life shed new light on to the bearing of the black hood. The Reaper was just another wall of protection for (Y/N). Another way to keep herself safe and anonymous, yet she had been so willing to remove her hood on Sorgan in front of him. Perhaps it had just been for the child or that she found him to be trustworthy because of Cara. Or maybe it was not her face that set her apart and made her life dangerous… At the thought of the hood and her face, Mando recalled their last conversation only moments before they had arrived here. He thought of how they had drifted together mindlessly, their torsos pressed against one another, breaths taken collectively. Her eyes, those alluring eyes, had widened in alarm as they first made contact. He could still feel the heat that had radiated off of her like a phantom creeping up him. Mando had been so confounded, it turned him into a statue unsure how to respond. Before he could, (Y/N) had stepped away dismissing it entirely too quickly… leaving Mando even more confused.

Mando was not naive, he knew he contributed to the skyrocketing strain between the two of them, but it was no less bothersome. Every little move or decision was met with criticism, everywhere he went inside the confines of the ship he was met with the jumpiness of her, and arguments left him with the sight of her disheveled, face tinged with that angry flush, and her lips drawn together into that sinful pout. He had grown tired, irked even by the continuous fighting, but he could not resist from vexing her. Every time he did, he was met with those sharp eyes throwing daggers at him, eliciting a reaction deep inside of him that made his fingers twitch for his blaster or perhaps something else.

With the way she looked at him, Mando was reminded of how very capable she was at taking him down and a part of him wanted her to try. He wanted her hot breath to fog up his visor, feel the burning sting of her knees pressed down into his forearms locking him down and her legs hooked around his dangerously close to his inner thighs, feel the intimate press of her blaster against his throat. Just for the hell of it.

“So, package is being moved on a fortified transport ship.” Mayfield explained bringing up a display of a ship on a hologram. “Now, we got a limited window to board, find our friend, get him outta there, before they make their jump.”

Mando’s head dropped down to view the hologram ship and for a moment he closed his eyes attempting to shake away his disorderly thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand because the sooner he got these credits, the sooner they could be gone and safe. Well, safer.

“That’s a New Republic prison ship.” He observed once he collected him. He turned to Ran, the man only offering him a tilt of his head and a quirked up eyebrow. “ Your man wasn't taken by a rival syndicate, he was arrested.” Oh his partner was going to kill him…

“So what?” Mayfield questioned smugly, planting his hands down onto the table.

“A job is a job.” Ran reminded, his mouth opening in surprise over Mando’s obvious displeasement. For a fleeting minute, Mando felt relieved that he had advised against (Y/N) wearing the hood. On a mission like this, one that involved the New Republic, the Reaper would only be a deterrent, a threat, and Mando did not want any of these banthas to even lay an eye on her. Although, he could also envision the blaster slipping beneath a layer of armor, the chill of the durasteel seeping through his clothing to his carefully concealed skin, the blaster positioned against his ribcage when (Y/N) found out.

“That’s a max security transport,” Mando stated looking between Ran and the former Imperial sharpshooter, “and I’m not looking for that type of heat.”

“Well, neither are we. So just don’t mess up.” Ran added and Mando sighed tilting his helmet at the old acquaintance, silently regretting getting involved back into this.

“The good news for you is the ship is manned by droids. “ Xi’an sauntered up to him, fiddling with her dagger. She grinned maliciously up at him, looking at him in a way that no doubtedly was an attempt to get under his skin and provoke feelings, no urges, that were no longer there. Not for her. He was not young and foolish anymore, looking for a release wherever he could find it. Things were different now, he was different. “Still hate the machines, Mando?” Xi’an purred leaning up and into him, her blade pointing over to the Crest.

Mando turned to find Zero walking down the ramp of his ship. “Despite recent modifications the ship is still quite a mess. The power lines are leaking. The navigation is intermittent. And the hyperdrive is only operating at 67.3% efficiency.” With each sentence of his schematics report, Zero lifted and lowered his arms. Mando rolled his eyes at the dramatics of the machine and his analysis. The ship was fine…

“Oh, and it seems the Mandalorian has a stowaway on board.” Shit. Mando’s head sprung up and he looked over to the odd crew who seemed to perk up at the droid’s words.

“She’s not a part of this operation.” Mando spit, scowling at the nosy machine. He was not sure what he had expected, the team would have found out about (Y/N) the minute they boarded the ship, he was unable to hide her like the little green one. Yet, the droid’s words had stoked something inside of him that he rarely felt… fear. Although with the child and now (Y/N) accompanying him, it was a feeling he began to encounter more frequently.

“Who is she?” Ran questioned, eyeing Mando with a look of suspicion and distrust.

“No one,” He quickly squabbled for an answer, a lie, “just an old acquaintance in need of transportation.” His words were choppy and rushed, an most importantly ineffective.

“Oh, it seems Mando here has a little friend on board.” Mayfield chuckled walking towards the ship. Mando stepped forward defensively unsure what the sharpshooters intentions were. “What is she? A personal dancer? A concubine? Someone for you to take your frustrations out on?”

Mayfield’s questions made the Mandalorian clench his jaw, his temper shortening with every syllable. (Y/N) was not anything of those things and hearing her, a woman capable of so much belittled like that made Mando’s palm itch for his weapon. That’s not what they were, they were partners working together to ensure the safety of the kid. That was it, right? The Mandalorian shook away his questionable thoughts choosing instead to focus on which way he wanted to kill this merc…

Mando stepped forward, hand moving to hover above his blaster. The beskar clinked as he walked up to Mayfield only stopping once he was a few inches away. He peered down at the dimwitted Imp, a man who should fear for his life.

“She’s an acquaintance, that is all.” His voice was low and threatening through the modulator, everyone halting around them. The two men stood chest to chest, neither one backing down.

“I don’t know Mando, my interest is piqued now. Let’s go have a looksie, huh?” Mayfield taunted, attempting to move towards the ramp. Mando’s arm sprung out quicker than he could think, hand tightly clasping around Mayfield’s upper right arm. He yanked him back roughly, his teeth grinding together from how hard his jaw was clenched. His other hand now gripping his blaster firmly. Before Mando could even speak, advise this former Imp against anything involving (Y/N), Ran beat him to it.

“M, leave it. I don’t care about some girl. You have a time sensitive job to do so I suggest you all get going.” Ran barked gesturing to the hologram still displayed on the table beside the bearded man.

Mayfield glanced up at Mando one last time before ripping his arm free, “Fine.”

Watching him head towards the ship, Mando inhaled deeply. He did not like this one bit. Unbeknownst to him, Xi’an had slinked on over to him, letting one purple finger trail over the fabric of his cloak concealing back until she worked her way to the front of him. Her finger jabbed harshly at the middle of his armor, where the small indention of his sternum was.  Her eyes narrowed as she studied his visor, entirely missing his own. “Interesting…” She purred before heading for the Crest as well.

He too, moved towards his ship mentally preparing himself for the mess that would await him inside. Mando begged that the credits would be worth this disaster of a mission. Although as he reached the top of the ramp, a voice called to him further indicating this mission would be trying.

“Hey Mando,” He pivoted to see Ran at the bottom of the ramp watching him. “Don’t let that girl of yours get in the way.” His words were sharp, a warning embedded in them despite the large smile the older man wore as a facade.  The sight made Mando uncomfortable, his words even more so. Mando just stared down at the man, the silence effectively delivering his response, before he slammed the button to his left closing the ramp.

(Y/N) felt the Razor Crest lift and slowly pivot out of the space station, but it was an afterthought as she stared down the new passengers that boarded the ship. A Devaronian, a Twi’lek and a human, not mentioning the droid she had come across before who had once again slipped up to the cockpit. She could not believe Mando was letting a droid pilot. (Y/N) knew her companion hated droids, she had witnessed it beneath the heat of the twin suns, but she was still unsure why. But a man like such had to have a reason why, a tremendous one. Just like she had hers for her own things…

A low whistle echoed across the confines of the ship and (Y/N) blinked away the haze in her eyes, focusing onto the audience before. All three pairs of eyes were trained on her, maybe even a visor, but the whistle had originated from the bald human who just seemed to gawk at her with half a sly smile.

“I don’t know Mando,” The man spoke, pivoting to the Mandalorian pressed against the side panelling. “Are you sure she’s not -” His words were cut short by the erupt turn of the shiny helmet. The man laughed at his reception, shrugging his shoulders lightly. (Y/N) felt like she was missing the punchline. “Hey it’s your business.”

The helmet stayed locked on the man and (Y/N) could identify the threat spoken in the way he tilted his head. It almost made (Y/N) smirk, almost.

“No this one is too pretty.” The Twi’lek stepped forward carelessly. She approached with a wickedly large grin, but her eyes were hardened with something familiar. (Y/N) had seen the look before, she just could not place it. “Dressed in black and armor.” The Twi’lek clicked her tongue, pausing just in front of (Y/N). Her eyes were gleaming with malice, tinged with recognizable anger.

With a hiss, the Twi’lek sprung forward, the coolness of a dagger pressing against (Y/N)’s throat as her back slammed into the wall. Sharp teeth barred, bodies pressing into one another as the dagger experimentally pushed on (Y/N)’s artery. The free arm of the Twi’lek roughly attempted to keep (Y/N)’s own arms down and away from the dagger.

The close proximity gave (Y/N) the realization as to where she had seen this look before. The same look had been in the eyes of a few Rebel fighters, even a General once, when observing romantic interests with other possible suitors. Jealousy, (Y/N) concluded. A feeling she had never experienced. Jealousy required an object of affection and vengeance had not left much room for that. It had not left room for much of anything…

But why was the Twi’lek jealous? What did (Y/N) possess to earn such envy?

“Xi’an.” Mando’s voice warned and the Twi’lek, Xi’an, seemed to let out a sigh that was mixed with a low purr at the sound. Her response was well, alarming. (Y/N) would have bet several credits for her to react violently or completely ignore him, not sound like she was getting off at the scolding.

Flickering eyes found the Mandalorian standing rigid observing the tense scene before him. A hand was posed above his blaster as if he was ready for any slight movement he deemed too dangerous. With the dagger pressed against her trachea, (Y/N) rolled her eyes, it was a little late for a blaster. Yet, the sight reminded her of their first meeting underneath the sinking sun of Sorgan. Where both of their hands had been inching towards their own blasters, ready to draw and have a good old fashioned shootout, before they had even exchanged a word. (Y/N) missed those days. Now she could only see the obvious hostility between Mando and the Twi’lek, one that was a clear indication as to why Xi’an was threatening her. (Y/N) could only scoff, Really Mando?

A burning sensation erupted in the Reaper’s chest as if she had just consumed a large amount of Rodian spice. It was a strange feeling, making her cough a little causing the dagger to rub against her neck. It was new and unfamiliar, had she just swallowed fire?

The sharpness of the dagger continued to prod at the delicate stretch of her skin until (Y/N) felt warmth trickle down her neck. Blood. Yet, she did not flinch nor was she really concerned. She had bled before, many times, in many places. This would just be another scar varnishing her skin. The palms of her hands itched for her weapon though, something that would put this tiny dagger to shame, put this merc to shame, but alas she could not. With no hood, she would have to dispose of everyone in the ship and that would get messy, quick. It would be easy for her of course, but it would leave a lot of questions from the Mandalorian. Questions she was not ready to answer, yet. Although she could not imagine a time she would ever be ready. Not to mention the whole reason they were in this mess in the first place; They needed the credits and disposing of all them right now would leave behind another problem. So instead, a part of her who was the Reaper, the dauntless warrior who had struck fear in many across the galaxy, tilted her head down at the purple skinned mercenary.

“Are you done showing off your toy?” (Y/N) challenged bitingly. Muffled laughter was heard in the background and Xi’an growled at the mockery. Before the purple skinned woman could retaliate, (Y/N) sprung into action, quickly raising her knee and forced a blow into her stomach. Xi’an let out a howl of discomfort at the blow, stumbling backwards while her dagger slipped from her fingers. (Y/N) turned her attention away from the Twi’lek in the blink of an eye, catching the dagger in her own palm. Xi’an eyes were wide with shock and speckles of fear as (Y/N) swiftly moved to press the blade against the throat of the mercenary. “Let’s try this again shall we?” A smirk graced her lips as she peered down savagely at her new prey.

More laughter broke through the intense stare down, ripping (Y/N) away from her opponent. She took a step back, eyeing Xi’an with venom laced in her irises; she was surprised the Twi’lek had not doubled over and fallen ill from the toxicity of it. Nonetheless she had made her point… (Y/N) twirled the small dagger in her hand until the handle pointed towards Xi’an, who snatched it in displeasure. She let out a growl of outrage before she turned and slunk back to the other side of the ship.

“I like this one Mando,” The human male chuckled beside the Devaronian, “she’s good with her hands. Too bad she ain’t a part of our job.”

Mando looked between the three mercenaries and (Y/N), while she discreetly collected the small trickle of blood from her neck. He was strangely reserved as he stalked towards the ladder leading to the cockpit. His gaze seemed to linger on (Y/N) though, making the fire in her chest bloom again. She was unsure what to make of these feelings that dominated her lately. She was angry with the Mandalorian half the time, but she also fought against the underlying current that threatened to engulf her constantly. It left her depleted, breathless, and frustrated, but most of all confused.

“Pity.” He breathed out and a tsk flew from (Y/N)’s mouth. She glowered at the beskar steel in utter disbelief over his teasing. If only these mercs knew the amount of bickering that had occurred inside this ship over her not being a part of the job, how many times she envisioned tackling him to the floor. Now he had the audacity to tease her and so openingly. She was going to kill him. But she could not help the light smirk that sunk into her face as she watched him disappear up the steps. 

This was definitely a bad idea…

Through the thick visor of his helmet, Mando shot one glance back to the small quiet village, eyes searching for the tiny green body amongst the crowd of joyful children. The child stood before the group of children who all gawked at him in amazement, no one had ever seen such a creature let alone something so… delightful. He would never dare to admit it out loud but the child’s small cooes had his heart wrenching each and every time. The Mandalorian could not help but hope that after this raiders problem was handled that him and the boy could find peace here, at least for awhile. Turning away from the village surrounded by spiked barricades, Mando focused on following Cara’s foot strides. The sun would set soon, enfolding Sorgan in a blanket of dark skies and bright stars. When they would return to the small Krill farm the raiders would be hot on their tail, but before they could provoke the ruthless thieves, Cara insisted on making a stop first.

The two were silent as they trudged through the forest, eyes locked straight ahead in search of something. The Mandalorian was unsure what they were looking for, Cara choosing to be extremely vague as to what this imperative detour was for. The only clue he had was Cara’s drifting eyes, the way she would glance down at her comlink and then to the swirling orange of the sky that seeped in through the tree coverage. A small smirk worked its way onto the woman’s face as her comlink beeped with a new message, the trees brustling as a shadow of a ship flew over head. Mando’s lips parted underneath the mask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight. Who was arriving? Before he could voice his puzzlement, Cara looked back over her shoulder. “Have you heard of the Reaper?” Mando scoffed at her question, the voice modulator deepening the sound. He was mildly offended by her uncertainty, everyone in the Outer Rim had heard of the Reaper…

The hooded figure, who since the fall of the Empire had been materializing on different systems across the galaxy, aiding the people. No one was positive as to why they had been deemed “The Reaper”, some whispered stories spoke of how they reaped havoc and death onto the remaining ex-Imperials, while others spoke of how wherever they went prosperity followed, life blossoming once again like a ripe harvest. The story of the Reaper had spread across the outer systems like wildfire, igniting hope in the downtrodden and dread into the scattered Imps. Some saw the figure as an angel sent from the Maker, a guardian who brought rebirth to previously controlled planets, while others found them to be just a story told to fuel the New Republic. Mando did not fall into either category, but he had seen enough horrors to know there were no such things as angels. Remarkably though, during his hunts he had never stumbled upon the hooded guardian, not yet at least.

He nodded curtly, “Yes, why do you ask?” Cara only offered him a small smirk, nodding her head for him to continue following. Mando sighed, slinking after her unsure as to where this was going, even more unsure if he liked where it was going.

 “There’s only two of us and a bunch of barely trained farmers, I figured we could use some extra muscle.” Cara explained, both coming to a halt in a clearing where a beat up light freighter had landed. Instinctively Mando’s hand fell to rest on top of his blaster that was holstered to his hip, curious as to who the help was that Cara had called in. She approached the left side of the belly of the ship, the Mandalorian cautiously stepping forward to stand beside the former shocktrooper.

“Who are they?” His voice was rough, even to him, as his eyes stayed locked on the closed ramp. Cara eyes drifted over catching sight of the hand hovering above his blaster, a snicker escaping her sly smile. 

“Relax, we can trust them.” Although her voice and demeanor showcased no sign as to why he should not believe her, skepticism still rolled off of the beskar steel in crashing waves. Mando tilted his head over at her, “That doesn’t answer my question.” With a loud sigh and the roll of her eyes, Cara crossed her arms turning to face him.

 “I don’t know much, we met in Rebellion.” An eyebrow rose beneath the helmet, another shocktrooper? “After Endor, instead of sticking around to enforce peace she left, went to enforce her own.” Mando nodded once absorbing the vague information. The Reaper was a former Rebel, he should have figured. “That’s all you got?”

“Yeah… well, she’s got an older brother. Both were refugees from the Clone Wars before they joined the Rebellion.” A refugee from the Clone Wars, he swallowed thickly recalling all the other planets the droids had laid waste to. Mando hummed in acknowledgement, turning back to face the freighter. He supposed that was enough, he knew even less of Cara and trusted her to help. And if this woman really was the Reaper, the guardian angel, than they would be in good hands.

The ramp of the ship hissed to life and lowered down. His hand still hovered above his blaster though, visor examining the soft smile Cara wore. “I got to say Dune, this doesn’t sound like early retirement to me.” He heard the taunting voice call before the ramp had completely lowered and Cara laughed stepping closer to the edge. Mando first saw mud caked boots, then a black belt with a blaster holstered on each hip, black armor secured around a torso, and then finally a black hood obscuring the face of the Reaper. Her head tilted in his direction, but all he could see was the shadow of a face, no clear outline of any distinct features. For all he knew she was not even looking at him, but as he inhaled slowly, her body seemed to stiffen. Her head remained tilted in his direction, the rest of her still, and Mando could feel her eyes observing him. Fingerless gloves drifted down to graze across the handle of her blaster, exposing the first real piece of her skin to him.

“Hanging out with Mandalorians now?” The woman’s voice was softer than he expected as she addressed Cara, her hidden face never straying from his. The former shocktrooper eyed the two, both in a silent stand-off, hands ready to whip out their blasters in a matter of seconds. 

A snort of amusement sounded from Cara, “I knew you two would get along.” The Reaper finally released Mando from her stare, wandering over to Cara’s side. The hood creeped back a few inches revealing a large smile as the two women clasped hands. “How are you? Still getting yourself into trouble?” 

A chuckle escaped the hood, her hand tightening around Cara’s, “Please, I thrive in trouble.” Mando studied the interaction from the security of his helmet, perplexed by the bond on display before him. The story of the Reaper had always seemed so distant, like the whispers of a dream, it never occurred to him that she existed, let alone had a past. The whistle of the wind as it flowed through the surrounding trees brought the Mandalorian out of his thoughts. He looked to the sky, the evening dusk beginning to fade. They had to move and now.

Mando cleared his throat, the vibrations emitting from his throat rattled his helmet slightly. The two women broke apart from their reunion and pivoted to look at him. He could sense the tension emanating from the Reaper and in return he only rolled his shoulders, a silent challenge being proposed between the two. If she wanted to come at him, she could try all she wanted to. “Hey,” A hand grasped the faded white fabric enclosed around the woman’s arm, “He’s a friend.” The hood glanced back over to Cara and let out a loud defeated sigh. Yanking her arm free from Cara, the hood silently trudged over to Mando. He watched her cautiously as her dominant hand shot out, empty. 

“(Y/N).” He could see the faintest shadow of her lips moving as she uttered her name. The Reaper had a name, a name other than the mantle she adopted, unlike him. He still had a name, but it was another thing hidden, no longer spoken. It was a part of the creed, he was no longer that scared boy, he was a Mandalorian.

(Y/N) watched through the cover of her hood as the helmet nodded once in acceptance, before silently shaking her hand. The worn leather was rough against her bare fingertips, but the detail was lost in the overall overpowering sight of the quiet Mandalorian standing rigid before her. She had never met one before during her travels, but she had heard stories of them since her youth. Stories of the great warriors who waged wars against old orders during the Old Republic. In more recent times she knew of the Siege of Mandalore and how the people had been purged and forced into hiding. It made (Y/N) shudder from the familiarity. She could not stop the thought that arose in the back of her mind, just how similar the two were, a fact no one else beside her would ever know. Despite the heroic stories, the helmet was still unnerving, bringing back memories she desperately tried to suppress. Although (Y/N) was aware that if she attempted to bury everything, the more likely it was to resurface, but she could not fight it. Old habits die hard.

They released each other’s hands, but their heads stayed locked straight ahead, neither one truly sure if the other was staring as intently behind their respective masks. They were. “Got yourself a real talker here, don’t you Dune?” (Y/N) joked, maneuvering to the side to see both of the fighters. 

“Yeah you could say that.” Cara shrugged moving closer and she had to bite back a smirk. 

“This is the one you trained a whole village of farmers to take on raiders with? Interesting to say the least.” (Y/N) quipped back and Cara punched her padded shoulder lightly, eyes lifting to the darkening sky. It was almost time. (Y/N) read the serious shift in her friend, hidden eyes flickering between Cara and the bounty hunter. “So what’s the plan?”

Night had swallowed Sorgan whole as the three warriors converged around the raiders camp. Cara and the Mandalorian made quick work of taking out the two raiders posted out by a fire on the side of the tent, while (Y/N) quietly approached the side entrance. Inside were multiple crates filled with a glowing blue liquid, some still containing the small blue krill swimming around. She had never tried Spotchka but this certainly did not make her want to. She was disgusted by the fact that these raiders had been stealing this village’s only source of income to use and profit for themselves. In her own vengeance, her sole driving force, she often forgot there were other beings capable of causing pain in this galaxy, besides the Imps. (Y/N) had dedicated her life to bringing the Empire crumbling down, and the last five years destroying any remnants of the Empire, something the New Republic seemed to turn a blind eye to. If it was not affecting the core systems, they seemed to not care. Their ignorance or blatant lack of consideration had covered (Y/N)’s hands in blood. She felt no sense of guilt though, not for ex-Imperials, not after what they had done to the galaxy, to her people.

Cara and the Mandalorian slipped into the tent, blasters drawn and raised in defense until they caught sight of just her. “Nice of you to join.” (Y/N) whispered as the holstered their blasters. Cara only rolled her eyes as she peered over and into one of the crates filled with Spotchka while Mando stuck an explosive to one of the support beams. As the circle lit depicting that it was armed, he turned to the two women and nodded. The three stepped towards the exit when (Y/N) felt her nerves prick beneath her attire, stopping her dead in her tracks. Her arm shot out, gently grazing across the cold beskar steel of the man’s armor. Through the veil of her hood, she looked to her side where the hunter had stopped, observing her.

 “What?” He hissed, voice low and modulated. It was the first time she had heard him speak and if they were not in the situation they currently were, she would have dwelled on the fact. Especially that his voice sounded… nice.

(Y/N) nodded her towards the exit where incoming voices were heard, her hand dropping from the bitter cold of the armor. He let out a barely audible sigh and stepped into a fighting stance, while Cara moved to hide by the side of the entrance. Two raiders strolled in unassumingly and before they comprehend the sight of a Mandalorian and a black hooded figure standing in front of them, Cara striked. She plowed her fist through the first raiders face, kicking the second one back. Mando sprung quick, taking the second one, while more raiders piled in hearing the commotion. 

Two of them charged towards (Y/N) but she ducked, spinning around to kick one down, knocking his head against the edge of a crate. She jabbed her elbow into the remaining one, but he was bigger than the other one and he retaliated faster than she could process, earning her a fist to the face. (Y/N) stumbled back tasting the familiar tang of blood on her tongue, no doubt coming from her lips, eyes narrowing at the raider before her. 

“Big mistake.” She mumbled, grabbing fists full of his tunic. She slammed her head against his, dismissing the pain radiating from her own head, before she launched herself over his body. As she landed behind him, her arm secured tightly around his neck, (Y/N) yanked him to the ground. With a loud slam, he was knocked unconscious.

A groan from her side did not allow her to dwell too long on the fact. The bounty hunter was being attacked by another raider, who had gotten him down to the ground. Instinct took over and before she could fully think it through, (Y/N) rushed over and tackled the raider down to the ground. Her knuckles collided against his face a couple times before he fell unconscious beneath her. With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) stood up and her eyes automatically fell to the helmet beside her. “I had that.” His deep voice was broken up by the deep breaths he was taking. She studied the dark visor that was turned in her direction, unsure if he was angry with her for helping. 

“I know.” She answered, because she did. Of course a Mandalorian could handle their own in a fight, but she was programmed to help, it was in her nature. Before Mando could answer, a red blast flew past them.

They flung themselves down to the ground, hiding behind boxes of supplies, Cara doing the same across from them. She watched as his leather gloves plucked his blaster from his side and raised it to the guards. Another shot sped past them, damaging the wall behind them. Mando perked at that, helmet turning back to the wall, then to Cara, and lastly to her. (Y/N) nodded and despite both of their faces obscured to the standard eye, they both understood.

 He fired a few blasts into the wall and looked over to Cara, “Come on, I’ll cover you!” The ex-shocktrooper nodded and booked across the small space, bursting through the damaged wall. (Y/N) was hot on her trail and the Mandalorian on hers. The tent exploded behind them, erupting into thick hot flames as the trio tumbled out onto the ground.

Heaving in gulps of air, the tree looked back to the destroyed tent. “I hope the plan worked.” (Y/N) chuckled lightly at Cara’s words, trying to push herself off the ground, but bright red lights caught her attention. Hidden in the bushes just beyond them, was an old AT-ST rising with its red eyes glaring down at them.

 “Go. Go!” Mando shouted, everyone staggering to their feet. (Y/N) spun on her heel and ran, her feet barely touching the ground before lifting again. She was faster than the other two, but they pushed on trying to keep up. 

“You didn’t mention anything about an AT-ST!” She shouted over her shoulder, lungs burning as they raced back towards the village. How had these simple minded raiders even acquired Imperial equipment? Most who found old Imperial wreckage just scavenged them for parts to sell.

 “Surprise!” Cara called back over the sound of a blast. (Y/N) could only smirk, despite the circumstances she had grown to feel more alive when in the middle of a shoot out. Especially when it came to helping those who could not fend for themselves.

Running down a narrow strip of marshy land, (Y/N) slid down behind the barricade surrounding the small village. As she pressed her back against the barricade and removed her blaster from her hip, she could feel multiple eyes trained on her, even a blaster or two. “Don’t worry, she’s here to help.” Mando’s voice carried across the barrier. She could hear a few relieved sighs and felt eyes lifting back to the forest edge. Her eyes found the Beskar steel once again, the moonlight casting a glow onto it. He was perched down beside her and (Y/N) could only nod in gratitude. He did the same before hidden eyes focused back on the trees, where red eyes seeped through.

(Y/N)’s hand closed around her blaster, removing it from the holster, and readying it for the inevitable. This was not her first shoot out and it would certainly not be her last, but her blasters never sat comfortably in her hands. No she would prefer another weapon. The AT-ST came to a stop at the edge of the ponds, flashing its bright white light as it scanned the area instead. Everyone ducked and (Y/N) could feel the apprehension in the air. These people were frightened, they were simply just farmers who focused on their harvests, but in desperate times they had chosen to rise and defend their land. It was very amarable of them, she noted.

A small hut exploded behind her and (Y/N) jumped back to the present, raising her blaster in defense. Emerging from the fog beneath the AT-ST were more raiders, charging towards the small civilization. She wasted no time aiming her blaster at any of the raiders she could find, taking down quite a few. Her focus was broken when out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw Cara rush down the narrow strip of land towards the raiders, carrying an Amban rifle, the Mandalorians. What was she doing? Her attention was broken away as a raider jumped over the barricade and crashed into her.

(Y/N) sat up with alarm, eyes falling onto the growling raider in front of her, hands frantically searching for her blaster. Her dominant hand clasped tightly around the first thing she found, staggering slightly as she stood up. She quickly looked over to find a piece of wood that had been sharpened into a spear. (Y/N) almost laughed, now this she could use. Twirling the spear in her hand, she lunged forward before the raider could even attack, driving the sharpened edge straight through his sternum. He groaned in protest before falling slack to the dirt as she removed the spear. Behind her, more of the villagers had converged on the other side of the barrier attacking the other raiders. (Y/N) smirked slightly, before sprinting out to join them, spear in hand.

As the AT-ST fell into the deepened pond, the remaining raiders, with no more cover, retreated back into the woods. The villagers all collectively let out a sigh of relief and began cheering for their victory. (Y/N) sighed, smiling to herself in the security of her hood as she trudged down the narrow strip of land, attempting to regain her breath. “Need a hand?” She questioned, looking down at Cara and Mando who were partially submerged in a krill pond. Cara chuckled and extended a hand out which (Y/N) grabbed. As she pulled her friend from the water, Mando made his own way out. 

“You good?” Cara asked observing her as the bounty hunter stood watching. 

“Oh yeah, but it seems like I missed out on the real fun.” She noted eyeing the water dripping from their clothes. They both groaned and (Y/N) watched as the bounty hunter rung the water out of his cloak. Her head turned back to Cara and she let a small smile make its way into her exposed lips, “Well I think my job here is done.” 

“You’re leaving already?” Cara questioned eyebrows furrowing. (Y/N) nodded slowly, she never liked to dwell too long on a planet after helping, there were always more places that needed help across the galaxy. She never wanted to become comfortable and settle, not yet at least.

Cara shook her head, “No stay for the night, you can leave in the morning. No one needs help for the night.” (Y/N) sighed, handing the ex-shocktrooper the spear she had been using, eyes discreetly drifting over the still Mandalorian.

 “I think it’s best if I do. They’ve got enough on their hands here, they don’t need to take in anyone else.” 

The spear was shoved back into her hands, “It’s one night.”

“Please stay.” Another voice called. (Y/N) and Cara’s heads turned to find one of the native woman observing them from the other end of the ponds. Her lips parted but she could not find the words to insist that she must go. “Please you helped us, and we’ve heard the stories of how you help others. Let us help you.” The woman smiled warmly and (Y/N) groaned lowly to herself, before nodding in resignation. One night would not hurt. As she followed the woman towards the barn, Cara and the Mando silently following, (Y/N) perked as a feeling overcame her. As she drew nearer to the village, the feeling intensified, causing her to release a low gulp. It was familiar and yet foreign, something she had not felt in a long time, not at this magnitude. Passing the celebrating and drained farmers, her eyes could not help but survey them all, confusion etched onto her hidden face.

Warm sunlight and children’s laughter greeted (Y/N) as her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes squinted up to the blue sky, thankful for the black veil shielding her eyes. “Good Morning.” A voice chortled from her side. (Y/N) turned in the stiff chair to find Cara sitting in another chair on the opposite side of the barn, drinking a cup of Spotchka, the Mandalorian standing right above her. She hummed half heartedly in acknowledgement, sitting up in the chair, tired eyes falling to the group of smiling children playing just beyond the barn. She absorbed the sweet innocence of the children as they danced around and laughed, their carefree attitude infectious just from watching. A part of her wanted to miss that blissful ignorance but it had not been a part of her life for long, making it difficult to do so. She continued to watch the local children as she fully awoke, but something caught her eye. It was as if the children were circling around something, something small. (Y/N)’s eyes fell onto the middle of the circle and nearly bugged beneath her hood. Before she could form a coherent thought, she rose from her seat and stumbled down the steps and towards the group of children.

Mando stiffened as he watched (Y/N) approach the group of children, fear rising in his chest. He did not think twice before following after her, unsure what her intentions were. After the events that took place last night he was unsure what to think of the Reaper. He knew she was an ally, she helped people not hurt them, but there was an odd cloud that hung around her. She was agile, all quick reflexes, faster than he’d seen anyone move before. He had seen a brief glimpse of it inside the raiders camp and then again as she fought off the raiders outside of the village. Her fighting style was unique unlike anything he’d seen, especially from a Rebel. Cara was all heavy blows and tackles, going from the obvious, while (Y/N) was... evasive. She was light as a feather dancing around the battlefield, waiting for the opportune time to strike. He tried to approach Cara about the subject in the early hours of dawn, but the former Rebel only knew so much, “Everyone has their secrets, Mando.”

The local children seemed to scatter at the incoming black hood, the sight more frightening than his helmet. All but one seemed to run away, in fact it seemed like the child with his big eyes wandered towards her. (Y/N) stopped in her tracks and looked down at the small green creature before kneeling down. The child cooed softly, his head tilting as he inspected the black hood. Mando hovered over the two of them but they both seemed to ignore his presence, too enthralled in each other. The child’s small arms reached out for her and (Y/N) carefully lifted him and brought him into her embrace. Mando fidgeted above them, confused by what was happening. Why was the boy so curious? A little green claw lifted to grasp the black fabric that hid her face and (Y/N)’s hand rose to meet his, pushing back the hood. Mando sprung to life at that, his leather gloved hand enclosing around hers and the boy’s. “Stop, you don’t have to.” He was unsure why she wore the hood in the first place, but he imagined she did not want others to see her. It was better to be faceless when creating enemies with Imps or the Guild.

(Y/N)’s face did not deter from the child’s as she spoke. “It’s okay, I haven’t sworn a creed like you.” Her voice was soft and low, as if she was whispering something while in a trance. Against his better judgment, he released her hand and returned to silently observing this odd phenomenon. Slowly, (Y/N)’s bare hand pulled back the black hood, letting it slide down and rest on her back. Mando swallowed thickly, helmet tilting to observe the face of the Reaper. Never had he stumbled upon a face that he could not see before, a face not hidden by a creed. He was not sure what to expect and he felt a bubble rise in his chest. Was this how others felt around him?

(Y/N) was young, her face smooth and bright, despite for the split bottom lip she adorned. Gentle eyes were brought out by white paint that had been carefully applied around her eyes, like a warrior. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a tan strip of fabric woven into it. He was not sure what he had expected, but the sight below him was not it. He understood now why the Reaper had been deemed a guardian angel, but he had a feeling they had not seen her face when deciding that.

The child hummed in contentment, pressing both of his tiny claws to her cheeks. (Y/N) let a small giggle fall from her lips, eyes watering in the process. Still holding the child, her eyes drifted up to him and Mando clenched his jaw. He could see the tears that gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill over, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Is he yours?” Mando nodded stiffly, watching as the child ogled at her, a smile on his face. The child was always happy, especially since being brought around the children of Sorgan, but he had never witnessed this amount of joy on the tiny green face. (Y/N) did not say anything but instead rose back to her feet, clutching the child close to her. Her expressive eyes fell back onto him and now that she was bare to the world, Mando discreetly had to remind himself that his helmet was still secured on. “When you leave here, I want to come with you.” 

Shock cause his mouth to fall open beneath the mask as he tried to process her sudden confession. He was puzzled by the sudden change. Last night she was desperate to leave and return to her “reaping”, but now she wanted to put it on hold?

 “Why?” The child made another soft sound and (Y/N)’s eyes flickered down smiling at him. It was a sight to see, the two forming a strange bond so quickly. 

“I’m a good fighter I could be of use hiding from the Guild and I could help with him.” The bounty hunter contemplated her request. Her overnight change had to be because of the child and he was not exactly put off by it. She was indeed a good fighter, that could prove to be of good use as he tried to protect the child from the Guild and the ex-Imperials who wanted him. And watching the child cling to her so suddenly, the dread he had felt when thinking about leaving here with him only seemed to shift now to the dread of leaving here with him, without her. 

“Fine.” He sighed watching her smile widen. He was starting to wish she would put the hood back on. (Y/N) shifted the child into her one arm, while the other one extended out to him. Arching an eyebrow, Mando accepted the handshake, silently pondering if he was going to regret this decision.

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@emma-frxst

Muddy boots slapped against the floor of the new Star Destroyer, heavy breathing coming from behind each thick black mask. The Knights of Ren moved with such power each lieutenant and Stormtrooper messily hurried to clear the way for them, eyes always lingering on the imposing figures and trail of sludge they left in their wake. The sanitation division would not be thrilled…

Commander (Y/L/N) led the group of five behind her, in the absence of their Supreme Leader who had not been able to accompany them on their recent mission. Although Supreme Leader Ren had no quarry about leaving his second in command, a fellow Knight in charge of the rest. She was a well trained fighter and leader, someone he would always want by his side and in return she wanted to be by his. 

Underneath her mask, (Y/N) let a small smile work its way onto her face, fond thoughts of Kylo Ren plaguing her mind. He was tall, powerful, and beautiful underneath that mask. A massive part of her that she tried to bury deep down, wondered what it would feel like to be pinned underneath him as his plump lips pressed hot kisses against her skin. 

Clearing her throat, (Y/N) returned to the hallway, trying to shake away the heat blossoming inside her at the thought. There was an unspoken thing between them, a tension so thick that it could not be cut with a knife, but she only ever believed it was because of her own hidden feelings. It was unprofessional to have such lustful thoughts, but it was more unprofessional to make crude jokes about the unresolved feelings.

“Do you think (Y/N)’s mask will shatter from all the tension building between her and Ren? Vicrul asked, laughing to himself. (Y/N) stiffened at his words, but stayed silent moving through the seemingly endless halls of the ship. 

“It’s possible, Ren already broke his!” Ap’Lek joined in, both unaware of the second in command tightly clenching her staffs at their blatant disrespect. (Y/N) had to quietly remind herself it was not up to her to discipline them, surely when Kylo caught wind of their teasing he would handle it himself. She just had to hope they would not say anything to set her off. 

“Should we send them off on their own mission so they can be forced to face the truth?” Cardo asked trying to be quiet, but failing. 

“Perhaps both of them wouldn’t be so uptight if they just fucked!”

(Y/N) spun on her heel before she had time to digest the words flowing out from Vicrul’s mask. “That is enough!” She barked, switching on each of her staffs, blue crackling electricity emitting from each end. The other knights stepped to the sides, not wanting to get in the middle of the eventual fight. 

(Y/N) could practically feel the smugness radiating off of Vicrul. He was pleased to have gotten underneath her skin. He unsheathed his blade and held it forward as she twirled her two staffs, the electric currents humming out in the tense air. He nodded once, irking her even more, before her staffs came down harshly against his blade. 

The sound echoed through the halls, but they paid no attention, the two Knights too busy attacking each other. (Y/N) ducked as Vicrul’s blade came swooping down on her, only to end up lodged into the side paneling for the ship. He yanked on it, but to no avail it stayed cemented into the wall. She smirked slightly, standing back up to her full height, and swung at him. He too ducked down quick, but (Y/N) shoved a muddy boot into his abdomen, sending him stumbling backwards now with no sword. The other Knights watched in amusement until (Y/N) stalked forward ready to deliver the final blow to an unarmed Vicrul. 

Kuruk quickly butted in, wrapping his arms around her while Trudgen ripped her staffs from her hands. She struggled against Kuruk, “That’s right, hold me back!” 

Vicrul laughed and steam about poured from her ears, “You’re only proving my point!” With nothing in her grasp to inflict pain, she did the next best thing, she hurled her helmet at him. He dodged it with ease, only laughing louder. 

“Just wait until I get my hands on you, you bantha fodder!” She shouted, voice no longer modified, unaware of the incoming heavy boots.

“Is there a problem here?” (Y/N) stopped struggling in Kuruk’s grasp, looking back to see the towering build of the Supreme Leader, his eyes observing the scene before him undoubtedly. She cleared her throat, pushing Kuruk’s loosening arms off of her. 

“No, we were just having some fun Supreme Leader.” His mask drifted down to look at her distressed state, an undeniable tension between them. 

“I’m sure you two would like to have some fun.” Vicrul mumbled from behind her. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, moving faster than anyone could process. She ripped one of her black staffs from Trudgen’s hands and pressed the sizzling blue electricity into Vicrul’s chest. He flew backwards onto the ground, groaning and clutching his torso in agony. A smirk fell on (Y/N)’s lips, pleased with her work, but still she stepped forward ready to further imprint the message into his mind: Do not talk about her or the Supreme Leader. 

Before she could even take another step, she was hoisted up into the air, her abdomen hitting a hard shoulder as she was carried away someone. But not just anybody, no she knew just who carried her away by the size of the hand splayed across the back of her legs and the warmth seeping up through the layers of black beneath her.

 Kylo Ren.

Kylo carted her through the Destroyer, officer heads swiveling to take quick odd looks before their eyes would duck away afraid to be caught watching the odd sight. (Y/N) did not fight against him, it would only prove to be futile, instead she just rested her head in her hands and used the time to calm her anger. She knew she could not give anything away, if she had not already, when it came time to him questioning her outburst. He could not know the feelings she harbored. Kylo came to a stop and entered the access code to a door before entering with her in tow.

 Her eyes flickered around, gulping lowly at the realization that she was in his quarters. His massive hands slid up her black robes and placed her down onto the edge of his bed. Her eyes lifted to find his mask already looking down at her. She could feel the intensity of his gaze as he leaned back against the opposite wall, arms crossing as if he had all the time in the world.

“What happened back there?” His voice came out rougher than usual and she mildly feared the possible repercussions. He had never gotten angry with her before, well the only time being when she had gotten injured on a mission, but she had him were always on the same wavelength. Another reason they worked together so well.

“Nothing Supreme Leader-” 

He cut her off, “Kylo.”

 Her eyebrows furrowed unsure as to why he always insisted she called him Kylo, instead of Supreme Leader which everyone else was required to call him. 

“Nothing Kylo, I allowed Vicrul to get under my skin. It will not happen again.” She sighed, eyes falling down as she tugged off her gloves. 

“What did he say?” His voice was softer, a hint of concern woven into it. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the Knights words and what they had been insinuating about the two of them. They were right on her end, which was most likely why she reacted so aggressively. 

“He mocked my fighting abilities.” She lied straight through her teeth, giving him a curt nod to sell it.

 “And that’s why you went feral out in the hallway and destroyed stuff?” 

(Y/N) winced, “I’m sorry.” 

Kylo let out a loud sigh, arms uncrossing, “Don’t be sorry, just tell me the truth.” (Y/N) dropped her head, fiddling with her fingers. She could not lie to him it seemed, her knew her better than that. She only feared that her words would either anger him or repulse him to no end. 

“Vicrul was insinuating that there was something going on between you and I. Which there isn’t, but it was still infuriating nonetheless.: She quickly added at the end, her eyes refusing to meet his hidden ones.

Kylo was quiet, too quiet, for far too long, but she did not dare to move or speak. “There isn’t?” 

(Y/N)’s head flew up immediately in shock over his question. Her lips parted unsure what to say, only knowing that she wished to see his face instead of the cold mask that concealed his expressive face. 

“Is there?” She questioned grasping her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

“I don’t know.” His hands released the gears of his mask and pulled it off in one swift move. As their eyes met no longer interrupted by the mask, she could not help but offer him a small smile, knowing he had heard her thoughts. His lips twitched slightly, almost unnoticeably as he took slow hesitant steps forward. 

As he drew closer, (Y/N)’s chest tightened, nervous about the thick tension hanging around them. Kylo kneeled down before her, eyes holding onto hers with uncertainty. Carefully he plucked each of his fingers out of his gloves, discarding them to the side without a second thought. His large calloused hands ran over the fabric covering her knees, drifting closer.

 “Can I hold your hand?” He asked, a light blush turning his face a sweet pink. (Y/N) had to blink a few times to process the lovely sight. She even wanted to laugh at the notion of the fearless Supreme Leader of the First Order asking to hold her hand, but during their time by each other side she grew to know the uncertainty that resided in him. So instead she slipped her hand into his waiting one. A soft sigh fell from both of their mouths at the contact, a spark igniting a wild fire inside them. 

(Y/N) lifted her free hand and rested it on Kylo’s warm cheek, a groan tumbling out from his plump lips. Oh how his unfiltered noises were music to her ears. He pressed his face deeper into her hand, basking in the long awaited contact. She smiled at the sight, content that her pinning had been mutual, that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. There was an unspoken thing between them and it was beautiful. 

Biting her lip (Y/N) leaned forward, “You can do more than hold my hand.” Her lips gently grazed across his and a loud moan sounded from deep in his throat, before he eagerly closed the gap.

Much to her dismay, Vicrul was right and was about to be paid a lot of credits from the other Knights and even General Hux.

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The metal door before her, slid open suddenly, revealing yet another masked figure. His mask and apparel was sharper, darker than night, and cleaner than the other Knights of Ren she had encountered. (Y/N)’s eyes flickered down to his side catching sight of the lightsaber strapped to his belt. Her gaze traveled back up to the now easily recognizable masked man, unafraid. 

Perhaps she should have been trembling from fear, that was the rational thing to do in the presence of Kylo Ren, but oddly she felt at ease. She felt an odd sensation flowing between them and (Y/N) briefly pondered if he could feel it too. But by the way his shoulders staggered from a sharp intake of air, she knew he could. The two were silent for a few moments, watching each other, deeply affected by as something binded them together. Soon every breath he took, her lungs filled to match, and vice versa, it was as if they were synchronized.

“What is this?” Her question seemed to snap him out of his daze, his shoulders heaving as he tried to shake away the core shaking connection. (Y/N) could feel his fear as if it were her own and she knew then that her question would go unanswered. 

“I hear you are refusing to give up the location of Resistance base?” His voice was deep and modified, intensifying the goosebumps already erupted across her skin. 

“They trained me well.” She sighed, teeth chattering. A hum of amusement escaped his mask as he moved to circle around her, each foot fall heavier than the last.

 “Not well enough if we managed to capture you.” 

A weak chuckle escaped (Y/N)’s lips, “Suppose not, but no worry I’m right where I’m meant to be.” Kylo came to a stop by her side, his head tilting down to look at her. Once again, she could feel his confusion. A small part of her mind was intrigued as to what he felt from her. “The Force guides us, I was meant to be captured.”

Kylo let out a short laugh as he stood back to his full height. He took two large strides to stand back in front of her, eyeline never straying far from hers. 

“That is an odd way of viewing it, an odd way to accept death.” Fear should have awoken inside of (Y/N) at his words, but none rushed forth. Instead she shrugged, another shiver emitting from deep inside. His helmet shifted down for a brief moment, eyeing her shaking extremities. 

“Are you here to kill me?” As if on cue, the unfamiliar tether interlocking them seemed to intensify. A deep ringing echoing in her ears as their breathing continued to follow a rhythm. Kylo’s fists unclenched for a moment, his head dropping in thought. Different feelings flashed through her: anger, resent, fear, denial, confusion, and lastly hope. His head lifted abruptly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he tightened his hands into fists once more. 

“No.” 

With that he was gone.

A short while later, two stormtroopers entered the interrogation room. (Y/N)’s head jolted up as they entered, fear rising in her at the sight of their blasters perched in their hands. Kylo Ren said he would not kill her, but that didn’t mean others would not. She silently scolded herself for choosing to believe he would keep her alive. She was of no use if she refused to divulge the location of the Resistance. 

One of the stormtroopers moved forward, pressing a button on the side panel of her chair that released the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. (Y/N)’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, were they to get rid of her somewhere else? 

“Stand Rebel scum!” Shakingly she stood from the metal chair, limbs weak from her capture and earlier “interrogations”. Eyeing the two troopers warily, her hands rubbed feverishly up her arms trying to conduct some sort of heat. Her one sleeve had been torn completely off when she was captured on her mission, leaving her more exposed to the cold filtered air circulating through the ship. 

Something heavy and black was chucked at her by the other trooper. “Put that on.” She grabbed at the material, finding it to be a heavy black sweater with the horrid symbol of the First Order stitched onto the shoulder. Today was not the day to be picky though, so she quickly pulled the sweater on, almost moaning from the instant warmth. 

It was an odd tactic: providing her with something she wanted before disposing of her, but she could not think clearly too busy basking in the heavy sweater. 

“Get back in the chair!” The Stormtrooper to her side barked. Without a second thought, (Y/N) slid back into the chair, her wrists and ankles being locked in once more. As the two left, one thought swirled around her head. Kylo Ren had a heart buried beneath all that black.

It was not until the next day cycle had begun, that she heard the heavy shoes approaching from outside. From the way her skin tingled and the odd sensation came over her again, she knew exactly who it was. 

The door once again slid open to reveal Kylo Ren, his face still secured inside his mask. The two stared at each other for a moment too long, before he fully entered with the door closing behind him. They both were silent as he circled around the chair, stalking her like she was his prey. Yet, in her soul she could feel the unease and nervousness plaguing him. 

“Thank you for the sweater.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper, but his boots came to a screeching halt indicating he heard her. 

“Don’t thank me, I just couldn’t stand feeling you shiver any longer.” Her head whipped to find him yet again peering down at her from the side. 

“So you do feel it?” Kylo stiffened at her words, taking a cautious step backwards. (Y/N) sighed at his silence, knowing he would not admit it once again. She was only looking for an answer to this unfamiliar connection. She was not Force sensitive, leaving her to feel utter confusion at the feelings, his feelings, inside her. She chose to change the subject, refusing to dwell on her uncertainty. “Well black is not really my color, so you’re right, no thank you is necessary.” 

Kylo’s head lifted, the hint of a smile worked its way into his voice, “Is that so?” (Y/N) nodded, a small smirk forming on her lips. She was finding too much joy in this. 

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Days continued on like this, Kylo Ren would arrive in the early hours of the morning, and “attempt” to gather intel. When in truth, he only revealed more about himself. (Y/N) had heard from others scattered across the Galaxy, that Kylo possessed a certain ability through the Force to pry inside the minds of anyone, and yet he never tried with her. He instead would engage in small talk with her, never once mentioning the binding force surrounding them.

 She could feel the conflict rise in him each day and how both their hearts would leap in their chests when they first saw each other each morning. Deep down, (Y/N) had hope that one day the light in him would win. Days went by and meals were brought to her twice a day, and even a medical droid came in a stitched up her cheek, applying a light coating of bacta spray afterwards. It was unusual how well she was being treated, but she chose not to question it, it was better than death.

(Y/N) was pulled out of her light slumber as the door shot open for the third time that day. It was not meal time nor was it the usual time Kylo would march in. 

“Back so soon?” Her head lifted to see two stormtroopers entering, blasters raised in defense. Her eyebrows furrowed and she gulped uncertain to what was going on. The Stormtroopers turned to her once the door closed securely behind them. 

“Expecting someone else?” The voice of the one stormtrooper sounded familiar and (Y/N) only leaned forward in the chair, puzzled. Both of the men looked at each other before they removed their helmets. 

(Y/N) let out a gasp, “Poe, Finn, are you two nerf herders crazy?” 

Finn shrugged, “Yeah, but let’s get you out of here!” He moved around to her side and released the cuffs from around her arms and legs. Poe helped her up, while he kept his eyes locked on the door. 

“That’s a nice sweater you got there, switching sides?” Poe asked glancing down at her black First Order sweater.

 (Y/N) groaned, “A story for another time, perhaps.” Poe and Finn put their helmets back on and nodded once to each other before they walked out the door with her in tow.

Following her fellow Resistance members, (Y/N) felt a strange twist in her stomach. A tug in her heart telling her to turn back, feeling as if she was abandoning something. Heavy footsteps pulled her out of her train of thought, Poe and Finn’s blasters raising in alarm at the figure heading straight for them. She whipped up to see the tall and dark body of Kylo Ren, his mask as always secured on. He seemed to ignore the two men posing as his members of his army, only focusing on her in the middle. Without a chair tying her down, it was as if they were two magnets gravitating towards each other. 

“Wait!” (Y/N)’s hands shot out, pushing for the two blasters to be lowered. 

“What are you doing?” Poe hissed watching as she and Kylo stepped forward closing the gap between each other. She only ignored them, the comforting connection between Kylo and her, pushing her onward.

“Come with us.” She whispered once she was only a few feet away from him. Her eyes lifted to his mask, searching for any sign of his own eyes in the visor. “Put an end to all of this, with me.” Her hand slowly reached forward, trembling slightly from the overwhelming feelings burning inside them both. 

“I do feel it.” He admitted as his head fell down to look at her small hand, confliction surrounding him. (Y/N) smiled, knowing he felt the same overpowering connection they shared as well. 

“The Force brought me here for a reason, remember that.” Kylo nodded slowly, his gloved hands raising to his mask. (Y/N) bit her tongue as she watched him release the mechanical gears of his mask, a loud hiss sounding with it. Her eyes widened as he revealed his young pale, freckled, beautiful face. His brown eyes locked on hers as a loud thud was heard, his mask dropping to the ground between them. 

“Kylo.” She whispered faintly. He stepped closer and (Y/N)’s eyes crinkled smiling brightly at the feeling of his hand slipping into hers.