#jedi reader

The sound of the waterfalls are comforting as they roar across the gardens, the light laughter of younglings goofing around by the water calming. You were safe here. You were home.

This had always been your favorite place in the Jedi temple. In all of Coruscant really. It wasn't the stark white marble of the temple halls or the blinding lights of the city that followed you everywhere. The gardens were the closest reminder to your evergreen home you had; the endless expanse of trees and mountains you'd spent your first few years of life in.

The temple gardens were quiet, often empty save for a few Jedi who used the grassy expanse as a place to meditate. The bright sun on your face feels good, warming the cold thoughts of loneliness which tended to creep in with the brief glimpses of your life before the order. You breathe in gently, reaching out to the Force with your mind, wrapping it around yourself like a comforting blanket. Keeping the worries and stress of your memories at bay. To be present.

Right now, it was just you. You and the sun. The golden rays warm against your skin; the grass soft beneath your neck, small blades rustling beneath your cream tunic.

You frown as a shadow falls over your face, a strange feeling taking over the warmth of your force signature. Something familiar and bright, knotted against your ribs and bleeding into your calm.

“Hello there.”

Your lashes flutter open with surprise, the familiar crooked smile that always accompanied Obi Wan meeting your gaze.

“Obi Wan!” You sit up- too fast.

A loud smack sounds as foreheads bonk together, both of you groaning and rubbing the bruised front of your foreheads. The bump throbbing at your hairline is quickly forgotten as you grin at Obi Wan, leaping forward to throw yourself in his arms.

He grunts, laughing as he catches you, the boy practically toppling over as you squeeze him tightly, his feet shifting beneath you to stabilize his crouch.

“I missed you too-” Obi Wan laughs, his voice warm against your ear.

“How did you know I was here?!”

“Master Yoda told me you’d returned this morning. I figured there was only one place you’d be.”

You chuckle, leaning into Obi Wan slightly. His hand holds you steady, the two of you much closer than any of your instructors would deem appropriate. It had always been this way- catching glances across the classroom, hands lingering on bandages after lightsaber practice, smiles that grew brighter in each other’s presence.

“When did you return?” you ask, sitting back on your haunches, finally giving the boy some space. “I heard you’d been gone on a mission for a while? Something about negotiations and treaties?”

Obi Wan makes a face, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Right. It’s been a while since we’ve been back at the temple together.” You hum in agreement.

“Well, when you finally pass the tests, you’ll be able to travel more like me.” Obi Wan glares playfully.

“Gloating is not very becoming of a freshly knighted Jedi, you know.” You shrug, tossing your hair, now notably missing the long, thin braid Obi Wan still sported.

“What can I say? I’m enjoying the promotion.”

Obi Wan snorts, and looks away. Your proud smile falters slightly, noting the way his eyes don’t quite meet yours. Had you said something wrong? Had something happened? Obi Wan finally looks up at you, something sorrowful and pained written in the blue of his eyes.

You swallow, realizing something was different about Obi Wan. Something had changed in the way he looked, the tired lines beneath his eyes, the tense curve of his shoulder. Even the way his hand still lingered on your knee, something he was usually so adamant about not doing in public spaces.

“Obi-” you begin, voice quickly cut off by another, bright and loud.

“OBI WAN!”

The voice rings through the gardens, young and curious. Obi Wan cringes as another cry echoes louder, the two of you turning towards the arched structure of the garden's entrance. You watch as a young boy runs through the grass, curious as you take in his long, dirty blonde hair and obvious lack of standard Jedi attire.

“Obi Wan, I finally found you,” the boy gasps, practically barreling into Obi Wan as he comes to a stop. The young boy rests his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. You note how quickly Obi Wan removes his hand from your knee, his palm already resting on the child's back in an attempt to help him catch his breath.

“So you did,” Obi Wan sighs, glancing back at you before leaning closer to the boy and whispering, “I thought I told you to stay put in the dorm.”

“I did,” the kid huffs as he shakes his bangs. “But it was boring. I can’t do anything in there except stare at that star map you have- and I know all those stars. But I saw your holochess set was malfunctioning and I thought if I could get some tools-”

You give Obi Wan a look, laughing quietly as the boy rambles about fixing it.

“You still have that old thing?” Obi Wan glares at you. The boy turns to you, looking over with interest.

“Hello,” he gives you a smile, jutting his hand out. “I’m Anakin.”

“Hi,” you grin, taking his hand. You note the callouses along his palm, the tight grip of his fingers as he shakes. You give him your name, Obi Wan watching the two of you carefully. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the temple before, Anakin.”

“That’s cause I’m not from here. I’m from Tatooine.” Your eyes widen in surprise. That was an awful long way from Coruscant. You shoot Obi Wan a questioning look. He swallows thickly, looking up at Anakin.

“Qui Gon found him on our mission. Anakin here is a very talented and special force user. He's to be trained here.”

“I’m going to be a Jedi!” Anakin beams, crossing his arms. You’re surprised. The boy was much older than most younglings were. Older than some padawans are when they start their training.

“Wow. That’s wonderful Anakin. And Qui Gon is-”

“I’m going to train him,” Obi Wan interjects, clearing his throat as he looks at you. “Once I pass the tests, of course.”

You frown, still kneeling on the grass. Obi Wan holds out a hand for you and you gladly take it. Something had happened on his mission. You knew it, could feel it in his strange demeanor. In Anakin whose presence at the temple was both strange and curious.

You wanted to press Obi Wan, to ask him what he was trying to hide, and desperately failing to. But something in the Force told you not to. Not yet, at least.

“Right,” you finally exhale. “Obi Wan- a Knight and mentor. It's about time.” He chuckles quietly, rolling his eyes.

“I like to take my time with things.”

“I’ll say," Anakin sniffs, gray boot kicking something in the grass. "You took forever this morning getting ready after that meeting with Master Yoda."

“Oh yeah?” You grin. Obi Wan takes a breath as he tries to calm the pink blush creeping up his neck.

“Don't get any ideas,” he says between his teeth. You laugh, brushing grass off of your knees as you stand. Anakin looks between you and Obi Wan.

For a moment, you swore you saw his brows draw lower, his eyes narrow. Like he saw something he shouldn't- like he could see the secret thing lingering between you and Obi Wan. The thing the two of you refused to acknowledge and yet both silently agreed to hide.

But the look was gone before it could fully actualize. Anakin was smiling at you brightly, arms folded in a manner that told you Obi Wan’s habits had already begun to rub off on the boy.

You clear your throat, not wanting to answer any questions that might be brewing in the young boy's mind.

“So, Anakin. What's it been like to be in the Jedi Temple?”

“Boring," he sighs. "There’s nothing to do here.” You laugh, giving an understanding nod.

“Sure. It is pretty daunting. But once you're a padawan, things will pick up.”

Anakin sighs again. The sigh that said a lot more about his situation than any words could. Special and talented.

From the way Obi Wan kept trying to hide his grimace you could tell there was a lot more than either of them was revealing. The something that had happened on Obi Wan’s mission. The something that left you with a strange feeling in the Force. You reach out and squeeze Anakin’s shoulder.

“Trust me. The council will let you wander around free once you're official. They're just sticklers for rules,” you whisper the last part, leaning in close.

“That's kind of the problem,” Anakin whispers back. He glances at Obi Wan quickly and subtly points to him, “he’s the one who won't let me do anything.”

“Anakin-” Obi Wan sighs.

“What,” Anakin frowns. “It's boring just sitting in that room all day watching you meditate.”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan frowns, voice laced with warning.

“It’s okay Anakin. I believe you.”

The two boys turn to you in surprise, Obi Wan looking mortified and Anakin’s blue eyes practically glowing with anticipation.

“What!” “What?”

You shrug, crouching down to Anakin’s level.

“I used to think Obi Wan was a bit boring too,” you whisper, just loud enough for Obi Wan to hear. “He never wanted to do anything fun. Always worried about the Council and their rules.”

Obi Wan crosses his arms, giving you an unimpressed look. You raise an eyebrow, testing to see if he’d argue. He didn’t.

“But you know what?”

“What?”

“I got to know him a bit better. And I found out a secret he’s been trying to hide.” You glance up at Obi, a wide smirk blooming on your face. “He’s the biggest trouble maker of us all.”

Anakin’s eyes widen in surprise, looking up to Obi Wan who rolls eyes.

“I am not, don’t tell him that.”

“It’s true. Look Anakin, one of the most important parts of the Jedi code, to be truthful and honest, and he broke it without blinking.”

Anakin laughs, clearly curious about Obi Wan’s past now. The Jedi just shakes his head at you, trying and failing to hide a smile. He didn’t argue again.

Because he knew it was true. The stories the two of you could tell from your early padawan days would put Master Yoda into a coma.

“He really got into trouble?”

“Of course. Give it time and I promise you, you’ll be chasing after him. Not the other way around.”

Anakin grins, like he was ready to hold you to that promise.

“Anakin,” Obi Wan says gently, “Why don’t you run off and join those younglings for a moment. I want a word with my friend here.”

“But-”

“Please.”

Anakin nods, holding out his hand for you to shake it. You do, letting the boy tell you how nice it was to make your acquaintance. You stand, watching him run off through the grass, chasing after the younglings by the waterfalls.

“He’s cute,” you finally say after a minute, standing.

“He’s a handful.”

“So were you from what I remember. The tar pit incident? Or the time we had to fish your saber out of the lake?” Obi Wan pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning.

“Don’t remind me.” You laugh, looking up at Obi Wan with question, the curiosity of the situation becoming too much.

“Obi, why are you going to train him? Why not your Master…” you trail off, the words running cold as a dark sense of knowing creeps in. Obi Wan doesn’t meet your eyes, his adams apple bobbing as he stares at the scuffed toe of his brown boots.

“Oh Obi…”

There could only be one reason Obi Wan had decided to take on a padawan of his own. Only one reason he’d come to find you in the gardens alone, without Qui Gon Jinn in tow. His Master who loved the gardens, who had taken you under his wing like you were his own padawan.

Qui Gon Jinn who had the purest heart of any Jedi you’d come to know; who had seen the poor boy from Tatooine and immediately wanted to help him fulfill his potential.

Who would never be able to smile proudly as Obi Wan passed his tests… as Anakin trained to become a Jedi.

Obi Wan clears his throat, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Qui Gon was killed during a duel with a Sith. I couldn’t do anything- I just stood there helpless…” You reach out and touch Obi Wan's arm gently. A small gesture, one you wish could be closer. Deeper. But for now, it had to be enough.

“I’m sorry. He was one of the best of us.”

“I know,” Obi Wan says shakily. “I just don’t know how I’m going to train the boy. I barely feel like I’m a fully fledged Jedi myself. I don’t want to let my Master down.”

“You won’t. I know you won’t,” you give him a soft smile. Obi Wan’s Force signature surges for a moment, something brilliant amidst the dull blue you had been feeling. It reaches out for your own signature, seeking the warmth radiating from your hope and sympathy.

The blue gives way to orange, sadness bleeding into something less melancholic, a sentimental remembrance. A surge of hope.

“Obi,” you squeeze his arm. “Qui Gon believed in you. He was proud of you, more so than I think you realize. If he asked you to do this, then he knows you can.”

Obi Wan sighs, eyes darting across the gardens to where Anakin was still running about, playing in the blue pool of the waterfalls. He's quiet for a moment, nothing but the gentle breeze from the controlled temple airlock brushing against your cheek, rustling the tree branches.

“Thank you,” he finally musters, giving you a soft look. “I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime Obi.” You rock on the heel of your boot, a light chuckle escaping.

“What?” He asks, matching your smile.

“You really won’t let the kid do anything?” Obi Wan groans, shaking his head.

“If I did, we’d be putting out fires everywhere.”

“He can't be that bad.”

“He flew a fighter ship into a combat zone. A trade federation station... and he helped destroy the thing.” Your eyes widen.

“By himself?” Obi Wan hums in agreement. You look out at the boy, watching him carefully.

“Anakin must be very special.”

“He is. Marvelously so. But he's reckless. Headstrong. Stubborn. He argues with every thing I’ve told him so far-” you laugh, giving Obi Wan a look.

“Sounds like someone else I used to know.”

“Hey,” Obi Wan makes a face. “I’ve mellowed out." You giggle, thinking of all the mischief he'd inadvertently caused with you during your padawan days.

“You have. But just remember he is still a kid. Even with all his gifts and talent.”

“I suppose.”

From across the gardens comes a laughing chorus of screams. You both turn, watching as Anakin floats in the air, a young girl beneath him sweating as she holds her hands high. The other kids throw their boots and belts at Anakin, trying to knock him down.

“Uh oh.” Obi Wan stiffens. “Duty calls.”

You snort, watching him fix his brown robes, ready to stalk off and scold the group.

“Don't be too hard on him, Obi.”

Obi Wan gives you a smirk, eyes not leaving you as he moves backwards to the falls.

"You're just jealous I've got a padawan before you."

You open your mouth in surprise, ready to retort. But the auburn haired Jedi is already off, the group of younglings screaming in delight as he joins them, his scolding echoing through the garden. You giggle, rubbing your forehead as you sit on the grass, watching the chaos unfold between Anakin and him.

"Oh, force help him."

------------------------------------------------------

thank you so much for reading!

Series Info: Title: Starlight Princess POV: Second-person (You x Poe Dameron) Genre: Action, Romance, Drama, Force lore, Canon Divergence Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: Canon-typical violence, emotional trauma, pregnancy, slow-burn, Force visions

Chapters by Act:

Act I: Burning Stars and Broken Light

(The Force Awakens)

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp. 4 Chp.5 Chp.6 Chp.7

Act II: Echoes of Rebellion

(The Last Jedi)

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp. 4 Chp. 5 Chp. 6 Chp. 7

Act III: Seeds of a New Dawn

Chp. 1 Chp.2 Chp. 3 Chp. 4 Chp. 5 Chp. 6 Chp. 7

Act IV: The Rise of the Starlight Princess

(The Rise of Skywalker)

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp. 4 Chp. 5 Chp. 6 Chp. 7 Chp. 8 Chp. 9 Chp. 10 Chp. 11 Chp. 12

Epilogue

Kix is watching you closely. He’s always doing that due to the annoying, frustrating, completely unattainable crush he’s developed after weeks of working with you side by side. Honestly, it was impossible not to fall for you, and he doesn’t understand how the entire damn battalion isn’t completely smitten.

The way you move with graceful, yet deadly precision on the battlefield, wielding your lightsaber like it’s an extension of your very soul.

The way you kneel by the side of injured troopers, sharing your own lifeforce to keep them breathing.

The way you offer kind words and comfort even when you’re drained of power and exhausted.

Kix never stood a damn chance.

It didn’t help that, as the healer assigned to the 501st, you’re always in the medbay, always next to him in and out of the battle. And it definitely didn’t help that, when Jesse noticed his crush on you, he started asking you to join them for meals, for hang-outs in the breakroom or outings at the 79s.

But it’s pointless, useless to even imagine you might harbour the same painfully hidden feelings.

So he watches you, and laughs at your jokes, and does his very best to make you smile.

This time, however, his gaze is full of concern.

Because from the second you sat down across from him at their table in the mess hall, you seemed… off.

Your face is slightly drained of its usual colour, and your eyes seem unfocused, as if exhaustion is tightly wrapped around your body in a cold, suffocating embrace. The food on your plate keeps being pushed around, yet it barely makes its way into your mouth. And you’re just a little hunched over, not holding yourself with the typical Jedi finesse he always admires.

When your eyes meet his, Kix shoots you a quizzical look, tilting his head in a silent question. You reply by slightly shaking your head and waving a hand to dismiss his concern, then move your attention back to the story Fives is retelling about his first embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt at hooking up with a girl.

But Kix can’t pay attention to his vod. His medic intuition is screaming that something is wrong. And when he sees you wince in pain, sweet, worried Kix instantly disappears – and lead medic CT-6116 fully takes over.

“Nope, that’s it. You’re coming to the medbay!” he suddenly speaks, bringing all light-hearted conversation around the table to a standstill.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you object with a small roll of your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Unfortunately, your point is completely ruined as you grimace and involuntarily wrap your arms around your lower abdomen.

“Something is clearly wrong. Medbay. Now!” Kix orders.

“It’s fine, really,” you keep insisting.

Kix is already standing, levelling you with a sharp, but concerned look. “Don’t make me pull rank.”

The entire table watches the confrontation silently, their eyes moving from you to the medic.

“Maker,” you hiss, frustrated. “It’s just my period, okay? Just a bad cramp. It’ll pass.”

“Oh.”

Kix sits back down on the bench, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

That is not really something he covered during his combat medic training on Kamino. It simply hadn’t been considered efficient or necessary to teach them about female physiology when every trooper produced was biologically male. For the first time since the war began, Kix feels out of his depth.

Di’kut. He should’ve researched this the moment you joined the team.

“Can’t you – I don’t know – make it go away with your Jetti magic?” Fives asks, leaning to see you better past Hardcase.

“That requires being able to concentrate,” you explain. “And it’s always… difficult for me to do during the first two days.” You pause, rubbing your temples. “Hormonal shifts mess with my focus. Especially with Force healing.”

You almost laugh at the awkward silence that settles over the table. For all their bravery and confidence, at the end of the day, they’re still just boys – with very little experience of the world beyond training sims and battlefields.

“I’ll take a painkiller if you have one, though,” you say, directing the request to Kix.

“Uh right, yes,” he mumbles as he stands. “I’ll get right on that.”

He hurries out the mess, muttering some curses. He just had to choose today of all days to come to lunch only in his blacks, wishing to take advantage of the time spent in hyperspace, where they’re safe from any attacks. But what kind of medic doesn't carry some painkillers on him at all times?

He's in and out of the medbay in under thirty seconds, then quickly makes his way back to the mess. When he walks in, however, he instantly clocks that you're no longer sat at their table.

“Echo is helping her get back to her cabin. She said she needed to lay down,” Jesse explains as soon as he approaches.

Kix spins on his heels and pretty much sprints out the large room and down the corridors, catching up to you and Echo as you're waiting for the turbolift.

“I got it from here,” he announces, walking to your side.

Echo nods to him, then gently claps your shoulder before heading back toward the mess.

“Did you run?” you ask, amused, as you notice his rapid breathing.

Kix shrugs in response, then helps you get in the lift. The cramps have intensified. It's not something completely uncommon that might cause you to worry, but it's bad enough that you lean into his side and allow him to help get you back in your quarters.

You plop down on your cot, while Kix hurries to find a cup to fill with water.

“Left side cabinet,” you instruct, watching slightly amused as he completes his task.

Kix hands you the painkillers and the cup, and you thank him with a weak smile.

Once you take the meds, you push the cover away and lay down on your side, knees drawn to your chest and eyes screwed shut as another cramp claws its way through your body.

Ever the medic, Kix kneels by the bed, and checks your temperature with the back of his palm.

Your eyes open, puzzled to feel his hand on your forehead. “I’m not sick, Kix.”

“Just making sure,” he says.

Without thinking, he cups your face and tilts your head so he can better see your pupils. They seem a little wider than usual, but maybe it’s just the lighting in your room.

“Your hand’s warm,” you remark, leaning a little into his touch.

Kix nearly chokes on air.

“Clones, uh… run hot,” he says as his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

He should absolutely not be touching you, a Jedi, like this. And yet… you’re not pulling away. You’re human, after all, you need the comfort. And he sure as hell is happy to provide it.

You close your eyes and wince as another bad cramp hits you. Kix swears his heart clenches at the small sound you make. It could take half an hour for the medicine to kick in… maybe he should run back to the medbay and get you a bacta shot.

“Kix?” you speak before he can decide what to do. “Could you hold me?”

 “W-What?”

He didn’t hear you right… did he? There’s no way you just asked–

“Heat is good for cramps,” you explain softly. “But we shipped out so quickly, I forgot to pack my heating pad.” You hesitate, starting to feel a little nervous at the shocked look on his face. “You’re warm, you know?” you add, quieter.

It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up. Then he moves – quickly, before logic can talk him out of it. Carefully, he climbs into bed behind you, resting his head on a folded arm as he presses close. Impossibly close.

You sigh, content, once you feel the steady heat of him through your clothes. He’s not entirely sure what to do with his other hand, but thankfully you take the lead; you reach for his arm and guide it yourself, draping it over your lower abdomen.

And then you’re just… cuddling. On a bed. In your room. Alone.

Kix is starting to believe that maybe he’s dreaming.

He’s never been this close to you before. Never been able to feel your ribcage expand against his chest as you breathe or smell the floral scent that clings to your hair. It’s intoxicating, and a weird guilty feeling twists in his stomach as he realises he’s somewhat glad you’re in enough pain to need him like this.

It’s horrible, and he hates himself for ever thinking it. But… Maker, he’s been dreaming of holding you like this for so long…

“Thank you,” you murmur as you readjust, trying to get more comfortable. In the process, the hem of your top rides up – and Kix’s fingers brush the soft skin of your abdomen.

And the mortifying effect is immediate.

His eyes go wide as heat floods his body, his lower blacks suddenly far too tight. This isn’t happening to him. Not right now. Kix’s entire body goes as stiff as his growing member and he pulls back slightly from you. The last thing he wants is for you to feel his hardened length on your ass and think he’s some sort of creep.

Kix is not a religious man – but right now he sure is praying to the Maker for you not to realise what’s happening. Stars help him, he’s never felt more embarrassed in his life and his heart is pounding in his chest, all of a sudden hyperaware of how close his fingers are to your core.  

Why? Why now when he could finally enjoy being so close to you? Why did his body have to betray him like this?

Unfortunately, you do notice the warmth of his body retreating from the area where you need it most, and how rigidly he suddenly is behind you. It confuses you, and you can only assume he’s uncomfortable because of the position you’ve put him in. The very not professional position.

You need to somehow lighten the air.

“It’s not always this bad,” you mutter. “But sometimes my uterus gets bored and tries to kill me.”

Your joke doesn’t seem to land, as Kix refuses to relax behind you.

“Right, sorry,” you continue with a small chuckle. “The uterus is an organ–”

“I know what the uterus is,” Kix interrupts you with a scoff.

“So you should also know that periods are completely natural,” you state.

Kix groans. “I know that…”

“You sure?” you challenge. “Because you seem uncomfortable and I know some men find periods gross–”

“That’s not why I’m uncomfortable!” he protests, immediately regretting the choice of words.

“So you admit you’re uncomfortable,” you accuse, your tone both amused and slightly irritated.

“N-No, that’s… that’s the wrong word,” Kix huffs, starting to get frustrated. “I misspoke.”

“Then what is it, Kix?” you press. “Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not–”

“You are! And I don’t get–”

“I have an erection, okay?!” Kix blurts out.

“Oh.” You blink, a little caught off guard. “That's uhh… also very natural.”

“Maker take me now,” he mutters.

A heavy, loaded silence falls around you, and Kix feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Yet he can’t help but notice that you haven’t pushed his arm away or called him a creep like he expected.

Then, suddenly, you move closer to him, pressing your backside right into his pelvis. Kix grunts, strained and involuntary.

“Damn,” you remark, voice a little husky. “You’re big.”

His eyes go wide. This definitely has to be a dream. A cruel trick his mind is playing on him. Because there’s no way you could be this okay with what’s happening.

“Kix? Did it, uhm, just happen or… is there a reason behind it?” you ask.

When you don’t receive a response, you turn to face him, but the medic is doing everything to avoid your gaze. His face is flushed, redder than you’ve ever seen it before, and a pitiful look fills his eyes.

You take a deep breath, hoping you’re not reading this wrong. “What I’m asking is… do you maybe… like me back?”

His eyes snap to yours. “Back?” he repeats, voice tinged with fragile hope.

The nerves are getting to you, so all you can manage in reply is two small nods.

A smile slowly blooms on his face. Hesitantly, his fingers brush some hair behind your ear, before cradling your cheek.

“If I wake up in the barracks and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed off,” Kix murmurs.

A small, melodic laugh falls from your lips, pulling at his heartstrings. Your hand reaches for him, resting in the middle of his solid chest. A little proof that you’re really there.

“Your heart’s racing,” you observe.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “It does that whenever I'm near you.”

You grasp his hand, moving it from your face over your own racing heart. “Mine too.”

Kix huffs a small, incredulous breath. Then, he slowly trails his hand from your chest to the back of your neck, and leans in closer.

“Mesh'la,” he rasps. “Can I kiss you?”

You don't answer with words, instead you tilt your head and close the small distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, a tentative brush of your lips against his. The softness on his movements makes you melt. And it sends a rush of electricity through both of your bodies. He’s always been respectful and patient, and you can taste it on him even now.

Kix pulls away first, almost like he needs to make sure you haven’t disappeared. You greet him with a wide smile, and go to kiss him again – only to be stopped by a sharp cramp twisting in your gut.

Your head falls against his collarbone, and a strained whimper sounds in the back of your throat. Kix wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly into the warmth of his body.

“Still hurts?” he asks, carefully sliding a hand up and down your back.

“A little,” you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. It’s a mix of GAR-issued soap, antiseptic and a little sweat – and somehow, the best thing you’ve ever smelled. “This is really helping.”

“Alright, cyar’ika.” He presses a loving kiss on the top of your head. “Then we’ll stay like this until the painkillers kick in.”

“Wouldn’t mind staying like this after that either,” you murmur against his skin.

Kix chuckles, a low rumble you can feel from his chest.

“Then we’ll stay like this for as long as we can.”

Never would you have thought that you‘d be a sith‘s partner one day.

That this very sith was Maul Opress and that you‘d built a weird little life with him.

And now, as you stood on the platform from which a ship is supposed to get you off planet, your heart beat quickened just slightly while your hand rested on your slightly swelled belly.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of the life growing inside you and you closed your eyes, feeling the unease creep up your chest.

Now that the Empire is here, it isn‘t safe to stay on Janix anymore, especially for you. As a former Jedi and soon to be mother whose partner is no other than Darth Maul, things are getting heated.

Your other hand fidgeted with the lightsaber on your hip, tracing the marks that came from years of fighting.

„Something is bothering you.”

His deep voice made you look up. Maul’s eyes were trained on your face but they eventually flicked down to the hand on your belly.

You clearly remember the day you found out—both of you—and the relief that washed over you when he didn’t abandon you because of it had been the thread you were holding onto for the past few months.

Maul could easily sense your stress through your shared force bond.

“I’m worried, Maul.”, you whispered, watching as the mandalorians carried their stuff onto the platform.

When you felt his consciousness brushing at your through the force, you let him in. Let him read your mind because that was easier than trying to put your worries into words.

His hand reached out from behind his back and slowly put it over yours, head tilting just slightly. “There is no need for your fear.”, he spoke, voice as calm as ever.

You grimaced, opening your mouth to say something when your throat suddenly tightened. The words died on your tongue, gasping for air when the invisible force grip cut it off.

Your eyes widened, realizing what was happening.

Your hands shot up, clawing at your neck in desperation.

Maul realized just as quickly as you did. His hands shot up to cradle your head, looking around frantically to search for the cause.

Meanwhile, dots started to blur your vision, tears forming in your eyes. “Maul—“, you choked, staring at him in horror.

Then, Maul’s yellow eyes locked onto a figure far behind you, a growl bubbling out of his chest as he grabbed his lightsaber and threw it at the cloaked figure.

It was suffocating, you believed that you’d pass out right then and there when you suddenly heard the clash of lightsabers.

The grip ariund your throat disappeared almost immediately.

You collapsed, feeling Maul’s firm grip around your arm to slow your fall as he catched his lightsaber again.

Gasping for air, you felt your body going weak, “Maul…”

“Don’t move.”, he spoke quickly, worrying about your current state, but there was no time, the Inquisitor attacked.

Maul stood as close to you as possible, shielding you with his body and his saber.

You only heard pieces of their conversation.

“Look at you.”, The Inquisitor spat, jumping forward to strike his lightsaber to your head but Maul was faster. He blocked the lightsaber with his own only inches away from your head.

The warm red spread over your skin.

“Attached to someone like that.”, Tge Inquisitor looked down at you and your lightsabers, scoffing under his mask.

“How deep did you fall.”

Maul growled in response, pushing him back with the force while moving protectively infront of you again. “I did not fall.”, he defended himself and you, “I’m not sitting at his feet like a lost puppy following orders.”

That must’ve angered the Inquisitor because he charged forward once again, faster this time.

Your frantic gasping turned into heavy, controlled breathing as you tried to collect yourself, your hands cradling your belly.

Then, the force sparked.

“No!”

Within seconds your lightsaber shot into your right hand, the blade whirring to life as it glowed a bright (l/c).

You pulled it above your head, deflecting the red lightsaber just in time as it threatened to cut off your head.

You grit your teeth, letting out a muffled scream as you stared up at the Inquisitor.

“Jedi.”, his hiss was low and dangerous.

Maul pulled himself back up onto the platform. He almost slipped off it when the Inquisitor shoved him away with the force.

He was more than reliefed to see that your skills and instincts as a Jedi were something to rely on, otherwise he never would’ve forgiven himself leaving you defenseless like that in your current state.

When the Inquisitor started to shift his weight, you reached out, pulling your second lightsaber into your free hand with the force and ignited it before your opponent could stop you.

Then, you hissed, striking it into his unguarded leg which caused him to stumble and jump back.

“Get lost.”, you mumbled strained, breathing hard as you kept your eyes on him, ready to defend yourself again if needed.

But Maul was faster than the Inquisitor in front of you. He was just a blur of black and white when he rushed past you, right at the enemy with fresh rage bubbling in his chest.

He overwhelmed the cloaked man with powerful strikes that didn’t leave time for himself to attack.

“My Lady!”, Rook exclaimed, voice slightly panicked as she rushed over to you. “Are you alright?”

You didn’t react right away, just watched as your partner completely overpowered his enemy.

“I’m okay.”, you said then, letting the blades of your lightsabers retreat and putting them back to your hip. “Be so nice and help me up.”

It didn’t take long for the Inquisitor to turn around and flee, knowing that he couldn’t physically compete with Maul and his own injured leg.

“Coward.”, Rook just spat as she watched, her grip around your arm firm to do as you asked. “You got a good hit at him.”

You huffed, straightening as you stood on your feet again. “I guess…”

Within seconds, Maul stood at your side once again, shooting Rook a quick glance before taking in her position. “Are you alright?”

The corner of your mouth quirked up, not really in the mood to answer the same question twice, but you did anyway. “I’m alright. Thank you.”

For a second too long, Maul searched your face. Trying to find any sign of visible lie or strain in your features. “Maul.”, you spoke, stepping closer and putting a light hand on his chest. “I’m alright.”

Maul nodded after a second of hesistance, eye twitching as he saw purple bruises bloom on your throat just above the neck of your robe.

His hand rose, his fingers faintly touching your neck as he let the force flow through you, healing the bruises as much as he could.

“We will have to get you to a healer.”

You couldn’t disagree, after all you knew how bad the injury must look. Not to forget that the moment of missing air could’ve caused damage to the growing life inside you.

Even if that wasn’t the first thing Maul worried about.

Because he always thought about you. His first priority.

And nothing would ever change that.

Okay, so. Imagine being a jedi, or a force user, or whatever. You can access the force, and you work alongside your beloved Clone. It can be as their superior, if you like that, or more as their equal, or as equal as a jedi can be to a clone in the eyes of the republic. 

Maybe you are one of those forceusers, who can sense people’s emotions and feelings much more than average, which is how you figure out your clone has feelings for you. 

It wouldn’t be too out of this world to imagine it starts with fantasies, of your clone letting his thoughts wander when he thinks he’s alone, or that nobody will notice. 

Most jedi aren’t incredibly open about their skills, so it would make sense if you weren’t either. At least, not describing all of it in detail. They might know that you can feel strong emotions, but your clone thinks his fantasies won’t be noticed. 

And normally they wouldn’t, had you not already been attracted to him and checking on him on a regular basis. You know as much as the next guy that jedi aren’t meant to have attachment, but you can’t help it. 

Only all your training keeps you from blushing when you see his thoughts. As your clone imagines bending you over your desk and flipping your robes up, leaving fingerprints on your hips and hickeys all the way up your spine as he splits you open. 

It's even worse if you guys are having an active conversation as his thoughts drift, eyes focusing on the way your lips move, and how he imagines it wrapped around him. Or the times where he’s feeling softer, and just wants to kiss and love. 

If I remember correctly, some force users can enter dreams or manipulate them to a certain degree. So, imagine you do just that after you start dating. You guys can’t be openly affectionate in public, so it has to happen in dreams. 

Imagine your clone being so exhausted from active duty with little rest, and he falls asleep in his bunk, mourning the fact that he couldn’t see you this entire time. 

Only to be met with you when he opens his eyes in his dream. It’s much clearer than any normal dream, helped by the force to be more solid and real.  

Being in a dream means pretty much anything is possible, which you two get to use to the fullest. There are no rest periods in dreams either, so you two can keep going for what feels like hours. 

When your clone wakes up though, he gets laughed at by some of the other troopers, as he would mumble and groan your name throughout the night. Everyone assumes he just has a crush, because who doesn’t. 

You snicker when you learn about it, teasingly asking your clone if he’s been struggling to sleep lately. He knows exactly what you are doing, and gets back at you the next chance he gets. 

Having the force is also useful, since you guys can’t be physically affectionate out in the open and all that. 

You guys don’t even need to be together for you to pleasure him. When your clone is alone, he might feel a ghostly version of your lips kiss his cheek, your hands on his shoulders, your arms wrapped around him. 

Or your ghostly mouth kissing down his chest and stomach, or your tight hole squeeze around him until he’s spilling inside his undersuit. It leaves him uncomfortable for the rest of the day, as he won’t have time to go off and change without being suspicious to the others, who already enjoy ribbing him too much. 

She went down and the world narrowed to a single point.

He was across the sand before the last trooper had finished falling, both blasters still out, already scanning the perimeter before his boots hit the ground beside her. All ten down. No movement. The volcanic sand around them was still, the lake behind it stiller, and the only sound was the distant settling of cooling metal.

He dropped to one knee.

She was on her side, one hand still loosely around the lightsaber hilt even now, the blade long since extinguished. He got a hand under her shoulder and turned her carefully onto her back and felt the specific quality of dread that came with seeing someone he needed to be fine lying very still in the dark.

"Hey." His voice came out rougher than he intended. "Stay with me."

She didn't answer.

He pulled his glove off and pressed two fingers to the side of her neck and found her pulse, fast and shallow but there, and something in his chest unlocked just enough to let him breathe. The wound was on her right side, and it was bad. Not unsurvivable, he had seen worse and he had survived worse, but bad enough that every second they stayed here was a second they couldn't afford.

He slid one arm back beneath her shoulders and the other behind her knees and lifted her carefully from the sand. She made a small sound at the movement.

Din immediately adjusted his grip, trying to keep the pressure off her injured side as much as possible. It didn't feel like enough. Nothing about this felt like enough.

The Crest sat only a short distance away across the black volcanic sand, ramp still lowered, but it felt further carrying her.

He kept one eye on the dark around them as he moved, blasters holstered now, every instinct split between watching for another threat and checking that she was still breathing.

Grogu was at the top of the ramp. Din had told him to stay in the cockpit, and the kid had apparently compromised, stationing himself at the very edge of the ramp where he could see everything and technically still be on the ship. He knew better than to come down onto the sand when he had been told not to leave the ship. But the fear was obvious in his large dark eyes, tracking every step Din took across the volcanic ground toward him.

Din carried her up and past him without stopping.

He got her up the ladder and into his bunk and crouched beside it, looking at her properly for the first time since she'd gone down.

She had been fighting in her undershirt. He'd had time to get back to the ship and put on his armour. She had stood her ground in nothing but her undershirt, trousers and boots, no armour, no cover, just herself and the saber.

The priority was getting off the planet. He told Grogu to stay with her, went to the cockpit, and got them off the ground. He pushed the Crest hard through the upper atmosphere and kept his eyes on the scanner until the planet's surface had become a dark shape beneath them and there was nothing following them out of orbit. Then he set a rough holding course and went back.

Grogu had not moved from the bunk. Din crouched beside her and looked at the wound properly for the first time. The fabric was scorched and torn at the right side near her waist, compression material fused slightly to her skin at the edges of the wound. He reached down and peeled it back carefully, lifting the hem to see the damage.

The skin at her midriff was warm beneath his fingers. Tan and smooth, softer than he had any business registering right now, the curve of her waist giving way to where the blast had caught her. The wound was bad but it was contained, the reinforced material she was wearing had taken enough of the impact that her organs were intact. He had made her buy that undershirt on Corellia, had picked it out himself and handed it to her flatly, and she had put it on without much argument, and he was not going to think too carefully about what could have happene otherwise.

He had barely reached for the bacta when Grogu climbed up onto the bunk beside her.

Grogu lifted both hands and placed them over the wound, and the air around him had gone quiet. He knew the kid could handle this. He had learned that in the forests of Nal Hutta, lying in the undergrowth unable to move while Grogu sat over him for days, pouring everything he had into keeping him stable. He hadn't asked the child to do it. Grogu had simply decided that this was what was required and had done it, and Din had spent those days drifting in and out of consciousness aware of a small warm weight nearby and nothing else. He understood now, watching the lines of effort deepen in that small face, that Grogu would always do this. That there was no version of events where the kid made a different choice.

Something in him wanted to pull her close, to do something more than crouch beside a bunk watching. Something else told him to move, to get back to the cockpit, to put distance between himself and the specific quality of her breathing and the warmth still registered on his bare fingers from two inches of her skin. His mind and his heart had been running two separate arguments since he landed beside her on the sand, and for now his mind was winning, but only barely.

He stayed until Grogu sat back, until her breathing had settled into something slower and more even, and caught the kid before he could topple.

"That's enough." He held him steady and reached for the bacta spray, applying it because Grogu's healing had limits and because he needed something to do with his hands. "You did good."

Grogu made a small exhausted sound against his shoulder.

"You did good," he said again, quieter.

He had just settled Grogu against the edge of the bunk when she came back.

It happened fast. One moment still, and then she was upright and grabbing for him, both hands finding his arms and gripping hard, and her eyes were open but not present, somewhere between wherever she had been and here.

"Mando." Her voice came out ragged and urgent. "We have to go, we have to get off this planet right now, he found me, he saw me, he's coming, we have to go,"

"Hey." He got his hands over hers. "You're fine."

She stared at him.

"We're off the surface," he said. "He can't follow us here."

She was breathing hard, looking around the sleeping alcove, and he kept his hands over hers and waited while she found her way back. Grogu pressed himself against her other side and reached up to put his palm against her cheek, and she looked down at him and something in her face came loose.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay."

He eased her back down. She resisted for a moment, the way she always resisted things, and he said nothing, just kept the pressure steady, and eventually she let him. He pulled the nearest blanket up over her and she grabbed the edge of it with both hands.

"I told you, I've got you," he said, and it came out lower than he intended. "Nobody's going to be able to follow us. Close your eyes. I'll wake you when we get there."

Grogu was already watching him with the expression that meant he had assigned himself a post and did not need further instruction. Din looked at him for a moment, then back at her.

He went back to the cockpit and took manual control.

He wasn't sure who had sent the dark troopers. Her instinct said it was the ex, and he hadn't argued because she was barely conscious and arguing wasn't going to get them anywhere. But his own read was different. Dark troopers were Imperial hardware. Which meant it was more likely Moff Gideon, or what remained of Gideon's operation, back on his and Grogu's trail the way they had been before. Maybe they had stayed in one place too long.

That thought landed badly.

He had kept them on an unnamed planet with no cover and no backup and nothing on the scanner except an abandoned Imperial monitoring station. Worse still, he had done it because she had looked at the lake and smiled in a way he hadn't seen often enough. He had watched the way her face changed when she asked if they could stay and found himself unable to say they were leaving. He had stayed because he knew how much she wanted to stay. He had let the planet's strange quiet become a reason not to move, had watched her laughing with Grogu on the shore and told himself just one day, and then another. Then between all that, he had been too busy watching her to be watching the sky.

He took backroutes to Nevarro. It was close enough that he could get there in just a few hours but fore safety sake he would take a longer path. Less travelled. If someone had tracked them to that planet he was not going to lead them anywhere near a settlement he trusted. He would add hours if he needed to. He needed the task.

He failed at keeping his thoughts in order almost immediately.

She had been looking at him.

He kept coming back to that moment just before. The fire had been low, Grogu had been asleep between them, and she had turned her head and found him already watching her, which he had been doing more than he was comfortable admitting. She'd gone still. Not startled, not uncomfortable, just very still, and she had been about to say something. He had been certain of it. The kind of certainty that arrived without explanation, from however many hours he had now spent learning the specific grammar of her expressions, the way her mouth changed a fraction of a second before she decided to speak, the particular quality of her silence when she was weighing something against something else.

She had been about to say something.

And then she had gone somewhere else entirely, somewhere far behind her eyes, and for one miserable second he had thought: she thought better of it. She remembered who she was sitting next to. A bounty hunter who lived on a gunship and had nothing to offer except the ship itself, a dangerous job and a child who had attached himself to her with alarming determination.

Then the beam of light was lighting up the inky darkness around them and everything else became irrelevant.

He understood now that it hadn't been about him at all. He understood that she had felt something coming before it arrived and had acted on it without hesitation. He had watched her do exactly that, whipping around with the saber already ignited, putting herself between him and whatever was out there before he had even registered that something was wrong. He understood all of that.

He was still sitting with the other thing anyway.

Because the mind did not stop simply because you told it the timing was poor. And his mind kept returning to the fire and the dark and the specific quality of her attention on him and the words she hadn't said, and kept constructing explanations, and all of his explanations led to the same place. His mind was a mess.

She had spent years with a man she had loved enough to leave everything she knew to be with him. The Jedi didn't like attachments, he knew that much. He'd heard it from her in pieces over the weeks. Heard it in stories about Masters and Padawans and rules that made little sense to him. The Order expected distance. Detachment. He had seen tis with Grogu too.

Love, apparently, was something to be managed carefully or avoided entirely. And she'd chosen it anyway. Whatever she called herself now, he still saw the strengths of a Jedi in her every day. In the discipline. In the patience. In the quiet instinct to protect people even when it cost her.

The Order had shaped her, yet she had chosen someone over it.

Din understood, probably better than anyone else could, what it meant to put a person ahead of a creed. He thought of Grogu and found he couldn't regret it.

Maybe she didn't regret her choice either.

Maybe that was why she wouldn't kill the man. Because someone who had broken rules that old, rules that important, for the sake of love wasn't going to let go of it easily. That wasn't the response of a woman who was finished. That was someone still holding on to something, even if the thing she was holding on to had become something else entirely.

So whatever she had been about to say by the fire, he was sure it wasn't what the traitorous part of him had spent the last hour hoping it might be. It was something else. Something he wasn't owed and wasn't going to spend any more time imagining.

He thought about the fight. Specifically about landing beside her and the question she had found breath to ask mid-combat, back to back, both of them still working through what was left.

"Why didn't you leave?"

He had rolled his eyes inside the helmet, knowing perfectly well she couldn't see it, and not answered, because the question was genuinely unreasonable and he didn't have the words for how stupid of a suggestion it was. As though leaving had been an option. As though leaving her had been an option.

He kept his hands on the controls and kept moving.

He had been watching her for weeks now. He had known it was happening and had not done anything about it because there was nothing to do about it. She was under his protection. She was hurt. She had complicated history with someone who was still out there, and she cared for his son with an openness that made something in his chest do things he had no useful language for, and all of that together meant that the things he wanted had no place in any version of this that he was willing to entertain.

It was not as though he was unfamiliar with wanting things he wasn't going to have.

What bothered him was the specific nature of it. He had been attracted to people before, had registered beauty and capability and presence in others and moved on without particular difficulty. This was not that. This was something that had started in an alley on Coruscant when she had handed Grogu back and told him he had the personality of a closed door, not an ounce of fear in her voice, then had the audcity to laugh at her own joke. This had been accumulating ever since in ways he had been pretending not to notice.

The co-pilot's seat to his left had become hers somewhere between then and now. He couldn't have said when exactly it had happened. Somewhere in the last few days it had simply stopped being a spare seat and become the place where her blanket lived, draped over the back of it, still new enough that the fabric hadn't worn soft yet but already settled there like it belonged. She brought caf in and tucked her feet underneath it and asked him things nobody had ever bothered asking before, not because the questions were significant, just because she was curious about him in a way that assumed his answers were worth having.

The tiny little shorts were not helping either.

He was completely aware that this was not a reasonable thing to be cataloguing right now, with her lying injured in his bunk and Grogu sitting watch beside her. He was thinking it anyway, because his mind was apparently not interested in being reasonable tonight, and because she had spent the last week wandering the Crest in those things, completely unbothered, arguing with Grogu about breakfast and bending over the lower storage panels looking for ration supplies. The shorts did very little to conceal anything when she bent over. He had made a point of looking elsewhere whenever that happened and had not always succeeded.

There had been more than a few nights when she had settled into the co-pilot's seat behind him after Grogu had been tucked into bed. Just the two of them in the cockpit. The stars outside. The hum of the Crest. Her blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she curled into the seat that had somehow become hers.

And more than once, despite every effort to the contrary, the thought had crossed his mind. Of all the things he wanted to do to her. Starting with bending her right over the controls he was supposed to be watching.

The sliding door behind them locked.

He knew it locked.

He had spent a considerable amount of time being annoyed at himself for knowing that.

He had thought about her. With a frequency and a specificity that he found genuinely inconvenient given the situation, and there was a version of things in which he did not have to think about it alone in the cockpit at odd hours. She was right there. The Crest was a small ship.

But he was not going to do that.

She was in his care, he reminded himself. The thought of using that proximity, that trust she had extended to him so carefully and incrementally, for his own benefit was not something he was capable of sitting comfortably with. He knew what it had cost her to trust anyone. He had heard enough of her history to understand exactly how much of herself she had given to someone who had used it badly, and he was not going to be another version of that story.

And even if he could set all of that aside, which he couldn't, there was still the ex. Still out there. Still the reason she was on this ship in the first place. Din had offered to end it once and she had said no, and he had watched her face when she said it and had understood, in the way he understood things he would rather not, that the refusal wasn't about practicality. It wasn't strategy. It was something older than that. You didn't keep a vow with someone you were finished with. You kept it because the person still meant something, even after everything, even after whatever had happened in that room she had walked out of. He knew what that looked like. He wasn't going to pretend he didn't.

He checked the route again. Adjusted. Kept his hands moving.

He landed in Nevarro in the early hours, setting the Crest down beside the cottage with a care he usually reserved for difficult terrain. He powered down and sat for a moment in the quiet cockpit, listening to the ship settle around him, and then went back to the sleeping alcove.

She hadn't moved.

Grogu was curled against her uninjured side, one small hand resting on her arm. Din looked at them both for a moment longer than he needed to and then lifted her carefully carrying her down the ladder and the ramp, Grogu waddling behind him the whole way.

She stirred as he was ducking through the cottage doorway. He felt the slight change in her weight as consciousness found her, and looked down to find her eyes open and blinking slowly up at him. She looked so young like this. Lost, confused, innocent and very far from the person who had ignited a lightsaber in the dark and stood her ground without hesitating.

He felt the guilt move through him like something physical.

He looked back up at the doorway and got them both through it without comment.

The cottage had one bed. He set her down on it as carefully as he could manage and she immediately pushed herself upright, questions already forming in her expression, the familiar gathering of someone who needed to understand exactly where they were and why.

He reached past her and adjusted the pillows against the headboard.

"Lie down," he said.

She settled back against the pillows, jaw tight with the effort of not arguing, and he went back to the Crest to get her blanket.

It was where it had been for the last few days. The co-pilot's seat. He picked it up and stood there for a moment in the dim cockpit holding it and did not think about the number of times he had watched her wrap it around her shoulders in the mornings before she was properly awake. He went back to the cottage and draped it over her without explanation and she reached up immediately and pulled it tight with both hands, and something about the gesture made it difficult to look at directly.

Grogu retook his post at her side. Din pulled the chair from the corner of the room and set it beside the bed and sat down. She needed monitoring. The wound was serious. He was being practical.

She was not fully asleep. He could tell from the quality of her stillness, the slight tension still in her hands where they gripped the blanket. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows on his knees, and watched her. He thought about the fight the way he had been trying not to think about it since it ended.

She had held ten dark troopers alone. For long enough that he had been able to get Grogu to safety, get his armour on, and come back. He had watched her from the sky for the seconds before he dropped, had seen the blade moving through the dark, and had felt something he was not going to name watching her fight like that. She was extraordinary. He had known it for weeks in the abstract way of someone who worked alongside capability daily and had grown accustomed to it, but watching her out there with no backup and no cover had made it impossible to hold at a comfortable distance.

She had done that for him. For Grogu. She had put herself between them and ten dark troopers because she had decided that was more important than her own safety, and she had done it without hesitating or being asked.

Nobody did that for him.

He was the one who did that. He was always the one who stood between Grogu and the thing coming, who absorbed the risk so the child didn't have to, who made the calculation and came up short and accepted that as the cost of keeping the people he was responsible for safe. He did not have people who stood between him and things. He had never expected to. He had stopped thinking of it as something that was available to him years before he met her.

And yet.

He was still sitting with that when he heard it.

"Man...do"

His title. Just that, low and barely there, barely conscious, the word slipping out of whatever she was dreaming with the particular quality of someone reaching for something they trusted to still be there. He went completely still. She hadn't said it to him. She had said it into the dark, to no one, to sleep, and she would not remember it. He was almost certain she would not remember it.

Just Mando. Not even his name. And yet, he thought about what it would sound like if she said his true name. The one he rarely gave to anyone. Said it awake, on purpose, to him. He turned that over once and then set it down carefully.

Not now.

He heard her shift slightly on the bed and looked up.

Her hand had come out from under the blanket, moving across the mattress toward him with the searching quality of someone not quite awake. He watched it for a moment and then reached out and took it.

She stilled immediately. Her breathing changed.

He leaned down close, close enough that the modulator would carry his voice at low volume without waking Grogu.

"You alright? Anything hurt?"

Her hand tightened around his.

He waited.

Her hand tightened further, and she drew it up toward her chest, holding it there, his knuckles against her sternum, and he could feel her heartbeat through his fingers and had to take a very careful breath.

He asked again, quieter. "Do you need anything?"

She looked up at him. He could see the question she wasn't asking, the thing she was trying to figure out from his face that the helmet wasn't going to let her find. He held still and let her look.

She shook her head.

He sat with that for a moment. Then he said, "Close your eyes."

She looked like she wanted to argue. He could see it, the familiar gathering of objection in her expression, and under other circumstances he might have let her, might have enjoyed it even, the specific way she argued with him when she thought he was being unreasonable.

"Close your eyes." Lower this time. Slower. No room for argument left in it.

She closed them.

He glanced across at Grogu. The child was out, the slow even breathing of someone deeply gone.

He reached up and slipped the helmet off, tucking it under his arm. The air in the cottage was cool against his face. He leaned forward.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. Gently. Just that. Just the most basic form of comfort he could offer, the kind that required nothing and asked nothing, the kind that said simply: you are alive and I am here.

He meant to stop there.

He stayed a moment longer than he should have. Her breath was warm against his face. Close enough that when he finally began to pull back, some impulse he could neither name nor account for slowed him, and his lips grazed the corner of her mouth, the softest possible contact, barely there, less than a breath. Then he pulled back fully and took his hand from her grasp.

She made a small sound of protest, reaching for him, and he ran his hand over her hair once, slowly, brushing it back from her face.

He stood. Slipped the helmet back on so he didn't get any more bright ideas, then sat on the edge of the mattress and reached across for hand in the dark and held it.

She didn't move.

After a while, he said, "He's worried about you."

Grogu, curled against her other side. Din watched him breathing in the dark and felt the familiar particular love of it, the love that still surprised him sometimes with how total it was.

She turned onto her side, slowly, and he felt her look at him. He could feel her gaze on the helmet the way he always could, that specific quality of attention she gave him when she was trying to see past it to something she was never going to find there.

She tightened her grip on his hand, not enough to stop him leaving, just enough to make it clear she didn't want him to.

Din closed his eyes briefly.

"You're trouble." Barely above a whisper.

The words carried no heat, no frustration. Just the weary affection of a man who had known exactly what she was from the moment she'd tracked him down.

The words disappeared into the dark before she could hear them.

He stayed where he was. The cottage was quiet. Through the small window, Nevarro's dawn stretched out flat and familiar beyond the fields.

He sat in the dark with her hand in his and thought about the word trouble, and how it had started as an observation but had become something else without him noticing. He had known she was going to be trouble from the moment she found him in an alley on Coruscant, because nobody found him unless he wanted to be found, and he had let her on the ship anyway because Grogu had decided and because some part of him that he generally kept well under control had made a separate calculation that he hadn't examined too closely at the time.

He examined it now.

He wanted to keep her safe. He had failed at that tonight. She had taken a blaster wound that he should have prevented, that he would have prevented if he had sent her to the Crest with Grogu and stayed out there himself the way he should have, the way he always did, the way the entire arrangement was supposed to work. He was the one who stood between things. He had always been the one. Somehow in the chaos of ten dark troopers dropping out of the sky he had let that get reversed, and she had paid for it, and the fact that she had made that choice herself and would make it again without hesitation did not make it easier to deal with.

He was not going to think about what it meant that she had put herself between his family and the thing coming. He was not going to think about the half second of contact that he had no excuse for and was going to carry alone because she hadn't been fully conscious and he was not going to tell her it had happened.

He was going to sit here and hold her hand and keep watch and do the thing he knew how to do.

She worried about him. That was the thing he kept snagging on, the detail he couldn't file neatly away. Not just when they were in danger, not just in the moments where it made obvious sense. She noticed when he hadn't eaten. She noticed when he hadn't slept. Small things he forgot about himself without registering the forgetting, and she caught them and said something, quietly, without making it into anything larger than it was.

He told himself that what he felt sitting here was the same thing she would feel sitting beside anyone who was hurt. That he was doing what she would do. That they were not so different in the end, both of them wired toward the people they had decided to care about, both of them willing to stand in front of things. He told himself that was all this was.

His thumb moved slowly across the back of her hand.

He was not going to think about the fire and the dark and the thing she hadn't said.

He was not going to think about it.

As the festivities continue, you look to the sky and find yourself meditating on the constellations twinkling high above the laughter and dancing. You wander along the edge of the celebrations, the sound of music and enthusiastic drinking fading into the background and pushing a smile onto your features. You watch as the 501st relax with the people of Dondri, and if you didn’t know better, you would think this was another normal rotation for them. But as all things, the joy goes as quickly as it comes when you look towards one particular member of the legion and find him standing near the Prince, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure the safety of the royal family. 

Maker, it truly was unfair how effortlessly attractive that man was. Whatever he was doing, even if he was merely lounging or standing quietly and doing nothing, he looked absolutely exquisite. And with every ounce of your being, you wished you were only physically attracted to him. But the opposite was true; the genuine dedication and care he upheld with everything that he did was what first caught your eye. Never have you met someone as tender and responsible as him. It would have been so much easier if you just found him objectively handsome, but like everything you’ve had to reevaluate recently, you knew whatever emotions stirring within you each time you are in his presence were based on more than his looks. It was such a dangerous thought process though, because for the first time since you were knighted, you genuinely debated ignoring the rules and confessing to him your feelings. He was everything you could ever want and so much more. 

Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of you. 

It was so unfortunate, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if the feelings were mutual, things would have been more complicated, more so for him than for you. So much would have been at stake, the most important being his position and well-being. But a part of you secretly hoped that he, at least, tolerated working with you. And you would have thought he did, if it weren’t for the fact that he tended to leave every time you were in the same room. Each suggestion you made, he would meet with some bit of hostility, not disrespect, but just irritation at the prospect of carrying out your commands. It was horrible. 

Yet it made you want him all the more. He had a sense of honor that he upheld more than most, a trait that was rare during these times. A characteristic that made you avoid him at every chance you could so as to not make him uncomfortable. You were not his General, but you were a General, one that he would have no choice but respect publicly. It made no sense to limit his whereabouts, certainly not during a time like this. 

Which is how you found yourself walking away each time he joined your company. If you were discussing an issue or two with Anakin and he joined, you would excuse yourself, telling both men that they could handle whatever the problem was without your help. If you were playing sabbac with Fives and Kix, and he sat beside them, you would feign a headache and leave, letting them know that you would get some rest. And if you were hanging around the royal family, learning about the Life Day Celebrations on their planet and saw him walking towards you, you would let them know that you were to make rounds for the night and exit the room, not once looking back as you left him behind. Granted, it made things especially difficult since you needed to discuss much with the Prince and his sister, and he was, somehow, always around you when you were with them, but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him further. 

Whatever grudge he held against you did not need to grow simply because of your ego. 

No. It was best you watched him from afar. It had to be.

You make your way towards one particularly large tree, hiding behind it in order to look at the man without anyone noticing. Always putting his job before anything else, Rex stands firmly in his place, arms crossed in front of him and lips pouting in attention. You allow your eyes to move down his form, and silently curse yourself when you realize where your mind may be racing towards. 

“Stare any harder and he might magically appear in front of you.” You shut your eyes and drop your face forward to hide the heated flush making its way towards your cheeks. Of course he knew where you’d be standing, and who you’d be daydreaming about. 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to the Prince about his involvement in the war?” You begrudgingly hiss at him, knowing that your reaction will be adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Anakin retorts instantly, making you wish you weren’t chosen for this mission. 

“I would, except everyone on this planet is currently into their third cup of Corellian whiskey so I highly doubt anyone will be paying attention.” You finally turn around and face Anakin, already hating the smirk on his face when he notices how flustered you are.

“Funny, that’s exactly why I’m not talking to him either.” He steps in front of you and rests his weight on the tree, throwing back a cup of maker knows what before handing it to you. 

“No, thank you.”

“You need it more than I do,” he shoves it one last time into your hands, nodding in victory when you take it and drink the rest of it down. You wince at the bitter taste but silently thank him for handing it to you. Neither of you say anything for a while, more entertained by the shenanigans of your men as they made absolute fools of themselves in front of the Dondrians. 

“You should really talk to him.” The sentiment irritates you more than it should. You know he means well, but given the circumstances, and who you were, you found the suggestion a little insensitive. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night.” You hand him back the cup, hand ensuring that your weapon is still on your hip before moving across the crowds. You don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, afraid they’d drag you into whatever game they were playing and force you to stay longer. 

But as you strut past your friends, something slowly pushes against the back of your mind, nagging you until you halt in your steps and study the forest. You stare across the groups of celebrations, turning around just in time to see Anakin running through his men. You push through the drunk masses, and only when you’re a few steps away from the royal family do you hear the high-pitched sound of a blaster going off. 

Without thinking much of the consequences, you sprint towards the upper table and violently shove Rex out of the way, shutting your eyes in pain when the blaster hits your side and barely misses the Prince and his sister. The joyful laughter quickly turns into panicked cries, and you look down at the two members of the family you were meant to be watching closely, praying to the maker that neither of them are injured or else this diplomatic journey would turn into a political nightmare. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask them both, sighing in relief when they pat each other down and realize that neither of them were hit. 

“Stay down,” you order the two of them, standing to your full height and igniting your lightsaber, but not before glancing to the side to make sure that Rex was unharmed. You feel your heart skip a beat when you find his eyes and see the anger swimming in them. 

“Don’t leave their side,” you tell Rex before taking off, already regretting the argument you will surely have with him when everything calms down. As if you needed to give him more reasons to dislike you. You will yourself to focus on finding the assassin, stopping in front of a group of clones to see which of them can follow you. 

“If you haven’t been drinking, follow me. The rest of you look after these people.” Five men stand to their feet at your command, already putting their helmets on to try and see where they should head. A part of you knows that you may have already lost this hunter in the crowd but you try to find him regardless, knowing that the celebrations may come to a halt and cause even more unrest with the Dondrians if you don’t at least try to find anything about him. 

You run towards the cluster of trees high on the hills, certain that it was the best vantage point where you can see everything unfolding within the crowds. But with each step you take, you feel the wound on your side burn in anger, begging you to take a moment of respite before resuming any movement. 

“You’ve been hit,” you don’t mean to snap at him, but Anakin’s remark sends you in a fit of irritation and you smack his hand away when he tries to move your robe to the side to get a better look at the bleeding gash. 

“No shit, genius.” His eyes narrow at your tone, but you know he isn’t taking any offense to your little outburst. You’re about to head to higher ground when you feel a hand grab at your arm and pull you back. 

“Enough, you and I both know we won’t find him. Not now at least. Come on.” He motions for his men to stand down, and they all look between you and him before they head down the hill first. As much as you hate to admit it, you know Anakin’s right, and you reluctantly sheath your lightsaber again before following him towards the calming throngs of people surrounding the royal family. As you bump into the soldiers, you do your best to refrain from reacting to the searing pain beating at your side, knowing that Anakin will make sure Kix doesn’t allow you to so much as breathe the wrong way. You couldn’t afford getting his attention, not when you could feel the eyes of a certain clone staring daggers into the back of your head as you paused and stood in front of him to speak with the Prince. You see him engage in a conversation with Anakin, worried at the prospect of anyone in his family getting hurt due to his recent change in political stance. 

“While I can appreciate the importance of this issue, we need to get you inside.” You turn between him and your old friend, waiting quietly until they acknowledge your suggestion before moving behind them towards the gate of the city. Making sure that each member of the inner circle is accompanied by a couple of your men, you stay back to rest your side, turning your eyes to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything but the excruciating burning beating at your skin. You’re almost distracted too when you feel a hand rest on your back while another holds your upper arm. 

“You need to go to medbay.” The calm, soothing voice of none other than the man you’ve been doing your best to avoid signals a wave of heat to course across your body, and before you can try and argue with him, you feel lightheaded, the adrenaline finally leaving your body completely with nothing but a faint memory of what had happened. You brace yourself on his shoulders, shaking your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him when you look up and see the angry grimace from before returning with a vengeance. 

“If it’s all the same to you Captain, I think it’s best I just go and rest. No need for medbay.” You try to let go of his shoulders but as soon as you take a step back, your body sways and nearly falls over. His arms brace against him, and had you been a little more present, maybe a little more mischievous, you would have asked him to buy you dinner first. But you weren’t too conscious of what was happening, so you accept the help quietly, not bothering to say anything even when Kix comes around and supports your weight as well. 

“With all due respect sir, Rex may not outrank you, but I do…when it comes to your wellbeing at least. Come on.” You miss the way he looks at Rex, and you definitely don’t notice Rex’s clenched jaw as he reluctantly lets go and makes sure you won’t fall over. And you unfortunately don’t see the look Rex gives you, guilty that you felt the need to push him out of harm’s way and take the hit instead. 

The three of you walk in silence back to the city, and when you get to base, you glance back at Rex and frown when you see how angry he is with you. Had you been more aware however, you would have realized that he was not upset with you, but at this whole situation. As soon as you enter medbay, you lay down in one of the beds, hissing in pain when your lightsaber accidentally brushes the open gash on your side. 

“Let me take this,” Rex moves to your side and attempts to grab your weapon, but you flinch at the sudden movement, eyes panicked at the prospect of not having your lightsaber with you, even though you were perfectly safe here. 

“You don’t have to, I-”

“General, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He sighs heavily, the reaction hurting you more than it should. Of course he thought you were a burden. He was probably supposed to be with Anakin but felt the need to remain by your side out of duty. You don’t mean to, but your hand falls back in defeat, eyes watering almost instantly at being such an inconvenience to him. If he notices the way you react to his words, he says nothing and approaches you slowly once more, as if he was walking towards a wounded, helpless animal. He says nothing as he unclips the lightsaber from your side and clasps it on his own belt. 

“Rex, I need you to leave.” Kix interrupts as he walks towards you, pointing at the door so Rex could leave. 

“Why?” You think he’s being a little defensive, but you brush the thought aside, knowing for a fact that there is no reason why the Captain of the 501st would want to stay behind just for you. 

“Because it’s my job to take her armor off and treat her, not yours. Get out!” Kix is more assertive than before, and you shut your eyes to avoid looking at either of them as they continue to talk about you. Something shifts in the air but you choose to ignore it as well, barely managing to open your eyes and gaze at Rex when he whispers in return. 

“I’ll be outside.” He looks at you as if the last thing he wishes to do is leave this room, and you’re not sure what prompts you to, but you nod in acknowledgement to let him know that you’re thankful for him, watching him exit the room, but not without looking back at you one last time. As the door slides shut behind him, Kix silently removes your armor and clothes, not bothering to say anything else as he begins cleansing the wound and suturing it. 

You’re not sure how long you’re on that bed, but when the medic lets you know that he’s almost done, you realize that you’ve been clenching your hands the entire time. Relaxing your muscles completely, you thank him and sit up, waiting until he covers your side with a bacta patch before standing fully again.

“You know, if I have to stand around one more minute and watch the two of you act like…like fucking bantha, I might just shoot myself and be done with it.” Kix says with a smirk, not caring for your passive aggressive remark as he applies the patch and pushes a little too hard on the skin to get you to be quiet. 

“You’re a medic Kix, not a therapist.” 

“Yeah well, someone’s going to have to tell you both to get your heads out of your asses…respectfully sir.” Once again, you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, not bothering to wait until he puts the armor back on before grabbing it and walking to the closest mirror to see what he’s done. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say in passing, irritated and confused by his choice in words. 

“Sure you don’t.” You’re about to respond when he opens the door to the room and calls for Rex to come back. Surprisingly, it takes a few seconds for Rex to come and stand beside you again, studying your features as you look at the covered wound and try to see which movements hurt and which don’t.

“The wound isn’t too deep but it is pretty large. It should heal in the next few hours, assuming you switch the bacta patch and put on a new one. In the meantime, I’d suggest you don’t partake in any serious, physical activity…unless of course you’re with-” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You turn around quickly and snap at him, mentally patting yourself on the back when you see his smile drop instantly at the realization that he may have gone just a little too far. You quickly glance at Rex and find him confused at your outburst, but he says nothing and instead unclips the lightsaber from his belt and returns it to you. For a brief second, your fingers pass against his softly, and you feel chills run down your spine at how calloused and warm they felt against your own. 

“Thank you,” you whisper your gratitude to Kix one last time before practically sprinting out of the room, feeling the frustration rise deep within your chest when you notice Rex falling into step with you. You had hoped that he wouldn’t follow you back, mostly because you were planning on visiting the Prince to ensure that he understands not to be seen by anyone until you’ve resolved this rather problematic hiccup. 

“I’m sure there is something more worth your time Captain…you can leave if you wish.” You say assertively, praying to the Force that he reads between the lines and leaves you to your devices. 

“If it’s all the same to you General, I think it’s best I make sure you return to your quarters safely.” You expected his response, but hearing it irks you more than you initially thought and you speed up in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“While I appreciate your concern, I am of help to no one if I return to my rooms. Where’s Anakin?”

“He is with the Prince. Sir, I strongly request for you to return to your room.” Ever the Captain, he doesn’t budge once in his stance and catches up to you, going as far as taking a few more steps until he stops ahead and forces you to slow down. 

“Captain, please.”

“You'll be helpful to no one if you can’t keep up.” He crosses his arms and stares straight into your eyes, not once caring for how you could easily write him up for insubordination. 

“I need to see Anakin, I think I have a plan to catch this assassin.” You take a deep breath and relay your intentions to him, preparing yourself for an onslaught of questions and push back to the plan you have in mind. 

“How do you know it’s an assassin and not a bounty hunter?” You notice the way his body language shifts from defensive to a more curious, even docile manner. 

“No one in their right mind would come to Dondri during the Life Day Celebrations just to kidnap a member of the royal family. Also, I’m fairly certain he was aiming straight at his head.”

“And how do you plan on catching him?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, making you wish he wasn’t standing so close to you so you’re affected by every little detail you keep observing about him. Shaking the thought aside, you take advantage of his distracted mind, walking around him and continuing towards the royal palace. 

“By giving him exactly who he wants.”

“Sir, please.” He calls out to you one last time, this time with an exasperated sigh that you wish was out of care and not duty.  

“Captain, your request is noted.” You turn around one last time against your better judgement, watching closely as Rex’s pout deepens before he switches his attention to the ground. You study him then, wondering why he was suddenly so intent on your well being. It’s not as if he never showed any concern before, but there was something strange now, something you chalked up to what you did earlier. 

You almost tell him to accompany you to Anakin, but then remember what he might say when he finds out what you have in mind to catch this man. Footsteps echo in the hallway as you practically run to Anakin, and you’re glad when you find him standing alone outside the Prince’s quarters. He looks up when he hears the frantic stomps growing closer, his expression falling as soon as he realizes it’s you approaching him. 

“Wow, you should be resting. What are you doing here?” He’s half-concerned, half-surprised, the faint lines of a smile betraying how irritated he is at seeing you.

“I think I know how to catch this guy.” You straighten up, gazing at your friend until his apprehensiveness gives way to genuine interest. 

“I’m listening.” Anakin pushes away from the wall, eyes narrowing at you as he turns fully to face you. 

“I highly doubt he will want to try again in such a crowded place so he will definitely wait till the Prince is by himself.” You step closer to him, anchoring your thoughts to the best of your abilities as the pain in your side begins to return once more. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head strongly, frowning at whatever idea you had in store for him. 

“Listen. We will give him what he wants, or at least, what he thinks he wants.” Anakin’s gaze shoots up then, and you watch the moment his confusion turns into a deep interest and desire to solve the issue.

“Elaborate.” His jaw is tight, and you brace yourself for whatever reaction he gives when you tell him about your idea.

“He knows how important his Celebration is, and he also knows that part of it involves the King-to-be going out into the lake and offering blessings to the gods on behalf of his subjects. So, we make him think the Prince is actually going out there.” Your voice is low but even, pausing in your explanation to gauge Anakin’s reaction. 

“You’re suggesting a decoy?” His gaze is steady but you don’t budge, not wanting to give him any reason to think you are unready or reluctant to lead the mission. 

“Yes, I am.” You nod confidently, glancing behind you and biting into your cheek when you see Rex walking toward the two of you. 

“So the Prince will be safe in his quarters the whole time.”

“Yes,” you exhale through your nose, bracing yourself for the question you’re sure will be asked at any moment now.

“And who’s the lucky guy that will replace him?” He throws his hands up then, as if to say he doesn’t agree with the plan but has no choice.

“Me.” You don’t flinch as you respond immediately, shutting your eyes to calm yourself when you hear Rex’s outburst next to you. 

“No.”

“Pardon me?” You turn to face him, not bothering to control your aggressive tone as you ask him to repeat himself. Rex can tell you don’t appreciate his response, passively shaking his head and glancing between you and Anakin to try and indirectly ask your friend for help. 

“I…don’t think that’s wise.” He repeats again, and you miss the way Anakin hides his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t shoot me, but I think I agree with Rex on this one.” It’s Anakin’s turn to pitch in, his voice harder than before and making you wish you didn’t get easily rattled by such minimal details. 

“Well, good thing I outrank the both of you.” You know better than to say something so superficial, and you shrug your shoulders when Anakin replies straight away with an annoyed lilt in his voice. 

“You don’t outrank me!”

“Okay, yes but…you’re still healing. I’m all for taking risks-” You cut him off then, not appreciating the hypocrisy of his words and actions. 

“But not when it’s someone else?” Standing your ground, you meet his gaze and search his face for any sign of hesitation, knowing that he has already agreed to your suggestion when he shifts his weight and pretends to still think about it. 

“Why not me?” He asks quietly, the question meant less to argue and more to keep the peace. 

“Because I’d rather we take this guy alive. Sorry Ani, but I don’t exactly guarantee the outcome with you.” You feel bad for critiquing his tactics but you don’t back down, wanting him to know that you prepared to see this to the end. 

“Fair enough.”

“Good, you can tell the Prince our plan. Make him address the people in an hour, something along the lines of ‘he won’t be bullied out of his duty’ and then we can head down to the lake.” Stepping aside, you walk around both men while telling them what to do, wanting to deal with this hiccup as soon as possible so you can address the real reasons behind your visit to the planet. 

“Where are you going?” Anakin asks, gesturing between himself and the room behind him. 

“Get dressed. I need to look the part.”

Going back to your room, you do your best to think of the task at hand, but with every question you ask yourself, you find your thoughts shifting towards Rex. A part of you wishes he only objected because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but the more irrational side of your brain is convinced it’s only because he doesn’t trust your judgement. You’ve never given him any reason to doubt your abilities, so you aren’t sure why he still can’t accept your discernment. 

As you step into the room, you strip down and walk towards your case, bringing out a new pair of robes and placing them on the bed. You make your way to the refresher and freshen up, doing your best to put the discomfort in your side out of your mind. When you hear the sound of the broadcasting, you forgo switching the bacta patch and get dressed quickly, afraid Anakin will move ahead without you. You return to the Prince’s quarters in record time, hood placed over your head to shield you from any prying eyes not meant to know it’s you. Stopping in front of Anakin, you make sure there are guards posted inside and outside the royal rooms, quickly letting him know that none of the servants know the plan to avoid anyone saying anything to the wrong person. 

“You ready?” Anakin asks, leaning into your space to gauge your reaction while pretending to protect you as you walk towards the nearby lake.

“Let me get back to you on that.” You chuckle in response, pretending your attention isn’t on the annoyed Captain flanking your other side. 

“Hey, it was your idea.” Anakin straightens up once more, eyes studying the slowly growing crowds seeing you to the lake 

“It sure was.” Your answer is clipped, mostly because you can tell that Rex isn’t getting any calmer beside you. 

“I hate this.” The three words are whispered, yet the way in which Rex says them makes you wish you could ask him here and now when he was so adamant on letting you know he doesn’t agree with your decision.

“You have something on your mind Captain?”

“Yes, loads as a matter of fact.” It’s the first time Rex answers in such an abrupt, curt manner. Before, he used to offer a silent apology if he spoke out of line, but seeing his anger sizzle deeper with each step you took towards the lake makes you all the more irritable. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” You answer monotonously, not bothering to hide how vexed you feel from the constant bickering with him. 

“Hey guys, as much as I appreciate your flirting, let’s focus here. You’ll be on the boat by yourself and we won’t be anywhere near until we see someone coming towards you. If things take a turn and you find yourself in a particularly awkward position, just push this button and we’ll come to you.” The two of you face Anakin, and while Rex looks away embarrassingly, you stare at your friend, silently telling him to watch himself and not test you. 

“That won’t be necessary, I’m going with her on the boat.” The ease with which Rex replies grabs your attention right away, and it’s your turn to be at the receiving end of his sheepish expression. You wonder if he knows how uneasy he looks returning your gaze.

Or how unfairly handsome he is as he leaves no room for discussion. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t blink once, meeting your adamance with a stubbornness you’ve never seen before. 

“Captain, if he sees you coming on the boat, he will not come.” Anakin tries to alleviate the tension but neither of you back down, wanting the other to step away first. 

“I’m not taking a chance with you. And…he won’t see me coming on the boat, not if I swim out to you and climb on.” The firmness with which he explains himself nearly makes you think there’s more to this offer than meets the eye, and you forgo proprietary to ask him what he means by not wanting to take a chance with you. 

“Captain, you’re-”

“Why do you constantly make things difficult for me?” He cuts you off then, the swift question quiets you immediately and forces you to look ahead, away from the company surrounding you. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Anakin whispers and you hate how he always wants to get the final word in. You walk the rest of the way in absolute silence, your mind flickering with hope at the prospect of Rex feeling anything other than despise for you. 

“We’re here.” 

“Good luck.” Anakin snaps you out of your haze as he readies the boat, and you nod at him before stepping onto it. You undo the rope, and make your way to the front of the swaying sail, not bothering to turn around when you feel it moving softly through the water. You focus on the dark body of water ahead of you, looking up to the sky and marveling at the twinkling stars as they shine above you. Only when you hear faint scratching at the hull of the boat do you remember what you’re supposed to do. Waiting until the boat is angled ahead and away from the shore, you turn on the comm link and step forward to see where Rex is hanging on.

“Are we far enough from shore?” You ask Anakin, praying you receive an affirmative answer quickly so Rex can get out of the cold water. 

“Yes,” Anakin gives you the go-ahead, and you pull the hood of your cloak higher before turning on the lights around the boat to offer a brief distraction. 

“Permission to come on board, General?” Rex asks strenuously, and you wonder if this is his attempt at being civil.

“Granted, come up before you freeze to death.” He pulls himself up right away, and you point to the small room in the lower deck, not wanting him to be seen by anyone that may be watching you. 

“Stay low.” You whisper to him, wishing you could take your cloak off and offer it to him so he can get warmer. 

The slow rocking of the boat lulls you into a fake sense of peace, and you force yourself to remain passive to the presence of the man behind you. The lights flicker softly around you, and when you lean over to touch one of the ornaments hanging on the cords, a shooting pain coursing across your abdomen prevents you from moving so much as a muscle. 

“How’s your side?” Rex notices you wincing and almost approaches you, but you shake your head to prevent him from coming up the deck. 

“It’s fine.” You clench your fists tightly as you right yourself, not wanting to appear suspicious. It’s quiet for a few minutes before you decide to return whatever civility Rex was attempting to offer you. 

“Hmm, it’s quite beautiful out here.” Your eyes are glued to the night sky, completely missing the way Rex longingly gazes at you when he agrees. 

“Yes, it is.” A shiver runs down your spine at the low, whispered tone of his voice, and when you turn your attention towards him, you find him shaking from the cold air seeping through his armor. 

“You’re cold.” There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue, and Rex must see how bad you feel about this because he shrugs his shoulders and tells you otherwise. 

“I’ll manage.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I really don’t understand why you were adamant on coming with me.” It’s not what you want to say to Rex, far from it. But you know for a fact you can’t be straightforward and ask him why he didn’t back down and decided to join you. 

“It is my job to protect you.” Again, you’re thrown off by how soft and docile he sounds, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not turn around and stare into his eyes as you ask him the next question. 

“Job? Is that the only reason why you’re here?”

“Y-yes. Why else would I turn down shore leave?” Had he not hesitated, you would have believed him and dropped the subject. But something about the way he becomes defensive makes you think there may be another reason he isn’t too keen on sharing. 

“What I don’t understand is why you would turn down shore leave to serve with someone you can’t stand the sight of. That’s what I don’t understand.” You know better than to bring attention to the bantha in the room, but you figure if you addressed the animosity, he might finally tell you why he isn’t your biggest fan. The last thing you expect, though, is the defensive retaliation he exudes in response. 

“Can’t stand? Who…who are you talking about?”

“Come on Captain, feigning ignorance doesn’t suit you.” You huff in frustration, not wanting to elaborate further and make this any more awkward. 

“With all due respect sir, you are not making any sense.” He chuckles then, and as beautiful as the sound is, it sets your teeth on edge. How dare he see this as a laughing matter?

“It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you find it barely tolerable to be in the same vicinity as me. So I ask again, why did you miss out on a much deserved break to be here?” Against your better judgment, you turn around and face him, not caring for anything happening outside this moment. 

“What gave you the impression that I can’t stand you?” Rex stands up and takes a step up towards you, the smile on his face falling instantly when he realizes that you weren’t joking. You were being dead serious. And you definitely believed everything you just said to him. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that anytime we’re in the same room, you find it difficult to stay for more than a few minutes before leaving. Or…or how you constantly meet each one of my tactical suggestions with an unfavorable reaction. Or the fact that you treat me like a child when I’ve clearly proven myself capable of handling any tough situation with ease. Any of these ring a bell?” You’re breathing heavily, unable to look away from him even though you wish you could be anywhere else but in front of the man that has simultaneously inspired so many mixed emotions ever since he came into your life.

“I- I’m…” He hesitates, and you almost feel bad for throwing so much at him at such an inopportune time. When his frown deepens and his eyes shift to the ground, you shake your head and return to observing the lights all around the boats. You envy the little balls of light, wishing you were one of them as they continued to flicker and not give a single care to anything happening around them. 

“I am sorry…for ever making you feel all those things when they are the farthest from the truth.” His words cut through you like a long, thin needle, and you find yourself reluctantly turning around to face him once more, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining what he just admitted. 

“I hold you in the highest regard General, and if I ever push back on your commands, it’s never out of respect, but concern. Pure concern.” He swallows nervously, waiting until he has your undivided attention before continuing to confess his own doubts. 

“If anything, I feel as if you’ve been actively avoiding me this entire week. With each turn, you somehow find an excuse to leave before I can join your company.” The revelation is enough to set your heart racing, and you have to shut your eyes to focus on calming yourself as you address his impression.

“I- well I just thought that I was bothering you and I figured it wouldn’t make sense if you felt limited simply because I’m around. I wanted to give you the freedom to do whatever you desired, without me standing in the way.” It’s your turn to clear the ruminating misunderstanding, and only when Rex responds shyly do you realize that you’re the source of months and months of misjudgment. 

“I see.” Rex is defeated, and you wish you hadn’t brought this up while you’re in the middle of the mission because you want nothing more than to join him down in the lower deck and tell him how sorry you are for causing him to question himself. 

“It seems you have every right to think me unfit to lead after all. All these assumptions lead to months of misunderstandings, all because of me.” You break the silence, trying your best to not let either of your revelations bring tears to your eyes. You fist your hands tightly to hold yourself back from doing something that might make him uncomfortable.  

“Never, I’d never think that of you.” He meets your eyes instantly, shaking his head and waiting until you accept his peace offering before moving back down to the lower deck.

“I guess it’s best if we just…start fresh.” You say with a faint smile, feeling your chest collapse slowly when Rex returns the smile and nods in agreement. 

“As you wish, sir.”

The night air shifts following those four simple words, and you blink a few times at Rex before returning to your place. You’re not sure how long you’re on that boat, but when the wind picks up, you hope things don’t take a turn for the worse before you catch the assassin who, up until a few minutes ago, you were convinced would have already come to you. Rex is awfully quiet and when you glance behind you, you see him holding a small ornament in his hand, the shape of which is unclear until he looks up and notices you staring at him. He shyly shows it to you, and you smile at him when you note what it is. 

“Gorgeous bird, isn’t it?” 

“What is it?” He gazes at the delicate ornament, its red surface shimmering with flecks of gold and crimson under the soft glow of the night sky and the lights dusted all around the boat. 

“It’s a phoenix, a legendary bird that captivates whoever comes across it in the wild with its vibrant colors and remarkable life cycle.” You watch as Rex marvels at how something so small could evoke such warmth, wondering if he knows that he inspires similar feelings in you. 

“It’s particularly special to the Dondrians because it’s believed to have originated on their world. Its symbolism of renewal and immortality makes it the perfect representation of what Life Day means to them.” 

“What do you mean?” Gently, he turns it in his hands, unwilling to let go of it as he hangs it back where he found it, completely enchanted by its quiet beauty and whom it reminds him of. 

“Well, it lives for several hundred years until it reaches a point where it builds a nest of aromatic wood and sets itself ablaze.” You can tell your words surprise him because he looks from you to the small ornament of the bird, face falling at the thought of a bird practically ending its own life. 

“It…it kills itself?”

“Yes, and no. As the flames consume it, it is reborn from its own ashes, emerging more radiant and young than before. This cycle of death and rebirth represents the very idea of Life Day…of destruction coming from new life, of the importance of transformation, resilience, and hope. The way it embraces its own death and resurrection encourages others to embrace change and look forward to new beginnings.” The way in which he seems to hold on to every single word you say lights a little blaze of hope deep in your soul, and you pray to the maker that whatever change in your relationship lasts long after tonight comes to an end. Rex nods in understanding, trailing his fingers across the glass bird before switching his attention to similar ornaments hanging all around the two of you. 

“They say any representation of the phoenix is supposedly enchanted.” You don’t want the conversation to end, and your smile widens when you see how suddenly interested Rex is in the bird’s mythology.

“Enchanted?”

“Hmm. If you hold that ornament in your hand and wish for anything…anything in this universe, it will fall right into your lap soon after and mark the beginning of a new chapter.” Not even a second later, Rex is taking the phoenix in his hand once more, shutting his eyes and murmuring something to himself. You watch with fascination how utterly captivated he is by the sentiment, and you wonder what he could possibly wish for so quickly. When his eyes flutter open and he finds you already staring at him, he puts the ornament down and stands up, his facial expression turning a lot more serious than a moment ago. 

“Sir, I-” “Heads up, someone’s coming.” Anakin cuts him off and you curse the timing of your guest’s arrival. You shut the comm link off completely, mouthing a quick apology to Rex as he moves out of sight while preparing his blaster. You face away from the sound of the approaching boat and pretend to flinch as soon as you hear a loud crashing sound signal the arrival of your wanted man. 

“You’re dumber than they told me, more conceited too.” The accent is not lost on you, and you file that little bit of information for later. The wind howls across the water, and you begin to move but hear a warning that prevents you from facing the assassin. 

“Ah ahh, turn around slowly.” You hold your hands up as you obey the command, no longer bothering to hide yourself as you fully face him. His breath, a lot calmer than now, comes in short, panicked bursts. His expression falls completely, and you can tell you were the last person he was expecting to see from the fearful air about him. 

“You? Where…where is the Prince?” The smirk you could hear before no longer tugs at his lips, his tone more taunting than now that he knew his mission is not possible.

“Like you said, it would have been extremely absurd if we allowed him to come out here by himself.” His eyes widen in horror, and you tilt your head slightly, hesitating to say more when his figure trembles at the mere sight of you. 

“You’re a Jedi! You’re the one who saved him.”

“Don’t try anything, you’re surrounded and it won’t be easy to escape.” You reply coolly, gaze sharp and unwavering as recognition flashes across his face. 

“This doesn’t have to end badly. Tell me who hired you.” You raise your hand slightly, a subtle warning that you hope he would take to heart and not test. His shoulders sag at the dangerous lilt in your voice, his breathing growing more erratic at the thought of being your captive. 

“I- I can’t.” Sweat glistens on his brow as you meet his aggression with an eerie calmness. 

“We can help you, please.” Your voice is softer now, still firm but not as menacing as before. Taking a step closer to him, you try to impose some sense of tranquility, but his jaws only tighten, his gaze farting around the empty lake in an attempt to find an answer to his predicament. 

“No, you can’t. No one can…if I don’t kill the Prince, he’ll kill me.” His voice cracks, and you watch as his eyes glisten with something between terror and acceptance of what will surely happen now that he failed in his mission. 

“Who?” Your question is followed by a panicked raising of the blaster to your head, and before you can give him another warning glance, you hear Rex ascend behind you, blaster aimed at the man’s head and fingers ready to pull the trigger. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rex’s tone adds fuel to the fire, the tension rippling along with the waves hitting the hull of the ship. 

“Stand down Captain.” You turn your gaze to Rex, not wanting him to make matters worse.

“I can’t do that sir.” Rex’s voice is tight, and he doesn’t bother meeting your eyes, knowing that if he were to look at you, the man in front of him might take the distraction as an advantage. 

“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill all of us.” The words tumble out in a frenzy, making you fist your hands tightly in discomfort. You ignore Rex for the time being, slowly stepping towards the assailant to try and calm him down once more. 

“Just tell me who he is and I will make sure you’re safe.” Your voice cuts through the hysteria for a second, and you think you can manage to make him put the blaster down without controlling him, but then he whisks the blaster away from you and towards Rex, the reaction instantly making you see red. 

“No, you’re all dead. We’re all dead.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This conversation is between you and me, not him.” Your tone drops, no longer friendly or soothing, but searing with displeasure at the sudden change of events. 

“I’m warning you, this doesn’t have to turn ugly.” You try one last time to make him put the blaster down, but sensing the shift in his demeanor, you light your lightsaber just as he shakes his head in madness and readies the blaster. There’s something strange about the way he continues to look up at the lightning shining across the sky, and you follow his line of sight to see if someone is approaching. His panicked movement increases as the crashing sound of thunder increases, and you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of why he was reacting so drastically to the weather. You find yourself lacking sympathy for him, not because of what he’s done, but because of what you see he’s about to do.

“It’s done, we’re- we’re all d-”

You don’t let him finish, sending your lightsaber straight into his chest before dragging it back to your hands. Neither you nor Rex say anything for a moment, and only when you feel the boat rock violently do you finally snap out of the momentary haze you’re in and tell Rex to hold onto something. 

“Pfassk, we need to get back to shore before this storm drowns us.” You’re afraid to look at Rex, unsure of what you’d find swimming in his eyes, if he’s disappointed, shocked or simply disturbed by how easily you took the man’s life. You reach out to the lake bank, focusing on bringing the sail closer to dry land as quickly as possible out of fear of putting Rex’s life and your own in any more danger. It takes longer than you like, but as soon as you reach Anakin, you exit the boat and remove your cloak, quickly handing it over to Rex before asking the others to drag the dead body away. 

“What happened?”

“He was manic…violent.” Rex answers Anakin’s question when you remain quiet, and as Anakin tries to learn anything from the soulless body, you stop pacing behind him and apply pressure to your side, the lack of adrenaline making way for a familiar, stabbing pain. 

“This fucking weather happened. He- maker, he would have listened to me. He would have, but the lightning terrified him. It was almost as if he thought it was after him.”

“So you killed him?” Anakin holds his hands up in question, not understanding why you changed your mind when you were the one who told him why you had to be on that boat, and not him. 

“No, I killed him because he aimed his blaster the wrong way.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable to you, and you watch as your old friend shrugs his shoulders before telling his men to take away the body. 

“We need to leave, or else we’ll get caught in this storm.” You remind them one last time, waiting until they start moving before turning around and looking to gauge Rex’s reaction to this whole ordeal. 

“Tell the Prince they can resume their festivities tonight if they wish. Assuming this doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” You tell Anakin, who nods in agreement and sprints ahead, not wanting to waste any more time outside now that the problem was “solved.”

“You don’t think there’ll be another?” Rex asks and you shake your head instantly, elaborating on why you think there isn’t another assassin running around. 

“No, whoever is behind this wouldn’t take the chance. One wouldn’t talk, two is too high a probability.” You meet his eyes for longer than you deem appropriate, and when he looks away first, you study your surroundings before heading behind Anakin, towards the royal palace. 

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room, I think diplomacy can wait till tomorrow. Good night Captain.” You don’t bother turning around as you respond to him, knowing that you won’t be able to hold back from apologizing for your actions if you see an unfavorable expression aimed at you. 

An oddly familiar warmth engulfs you the farther you walk away from Rex, and it’s only when you’re back in your room that you realize what that sensation is. You’re confused as to how you could possibly be receptive to Rex’s feelings, but it occurs to you that you may be feeling a fraction of his own emotions simply because he’s allowing you to. Of course it may be unintentional on his side, but be that as it may, a part of him is so in tune with you that the Force decided to connect you to each other, or at least, make you respond to him on a much deeper level than you ever thought possible. 

You stand in the middle of your quarters, recalling every single word you’ve exchanged with Rex during the past rotation. As upset as you are with how certain things turned out, you come to appreciate them all, especially the fact that the two of you were sent on this mission together. You were finding the Life Day Celebrations extremely difficult to enjoy because of your relationship with the Captain, but if anything was proven in the past few hours, it’s that the time of year was truly on your side. 

You make your way to the refresher and find the bacta patch Kix gave you earlier, sighing irritatingly when you realize you forgot to change it. You strip off your clothes and stand in front of the mirror, biting into your cheek as you remove the bacta patch and throw it away. You find the wound almost healed, and you thank the maker you wouldn’t have to deal with it for a longer period. Letting it breathe for a few seconds, you walk around and turn on the hot water, wanting to bathe in a nice, warm bath before whatever you will have to do tomorrow. You move back to the mirror and unsheath the replacement patch, slowly applying it on your skin, and shivering when the cold chemicals make contact with the wound and the skin surrounding it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Rex has debriefed with Anakin and was already heading your way, wanting to make sure that you made it back safely and weren’t in need of anything. He hesitates for a long moment before knocking softly on your door several times, and when he doesn’t hear a response, he unlocks the door and walks in, taking in the small space before calling out for you again. He frowns at the lack of response, knowing that you were in much need of a good night rest. The room is dim, illuminated only by the light filtering through the windows behind the bed. Thinking that you didn’t make it back yet, he’s about to exit when he hears your groans echo through the refresher.

“Sir?” Rex tries, and when your whines only grow louder, he takes out his blaster and readies himself for whatever threat is in the refresher with you. The muffled sounds only grow, and he’s alarmed at the prospect of what he might find when he barges in. Taking calculated steps across the room, he finds the door to the refresher slightly ajar, and as soon as the quiet moan of discomfort reverberates in his ears, he takes two quick strides and pushes the door open, scanning the room in an attempt to find the source of your pained grunts. When he sees you standing half-naked in the middle of the refresher, with your hands massaging the skin around the wound, he lowers his blaster and shuts his eyes, cursing at his lack of sensibility. 

“Ahh kriffing hells. Oh maker, I- I’m sorry General. I thought that you were harmed and- pfassk.” Rex stammers through an apology, his face growing heated at catching you in such a vulnerable state. The tub beside you is half-full, and Rex feels his armor tightening around his crotch, images of you moaning in ecstasy as the water relieved all of your pain making him wish he was anywhere else but here. 

“That’s okay Rex,” you cut him off when you see his face burning with embarrassment, and you do your best to not dwell on the heat from before suddenly wrapping around you like a tight, weighted blanket. It’s endearing how shy he is being with you, and you’re about to giggle at his overreaction when you turn around and find his eyes set on you. There’s a different expression on his handsome features now, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, unsure of why he was looking at you in such an intimate way. 

“What?” You decide to ask, knowing that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they already have.

“I’ve never heard you say my name before.” The comment throws you off guard, and you look around the foggy room, hoping to find a response written somewhere. You meet his gaze again, and notice his body language relax, as if the sound of his name on your lips was all he needed to hear to grow more comfortable with you. 

“That can’t be true.” You know he’s not wrong, but you are also aware that you’ve called his name about a thousand times in the privacy of your room. You’ve called his name more often than you care to admit, but he had no way of knowing that, not when, up until a few hours ago, he genuinely thought you disliked him. 

“Believe me, I would remember it if you did.” He chuckles at you, the sound far from humorous and fully self-deprecating. There’s nothing comforting you can say to him, and you rub your temples to alleviate the sudden throbbing ache circling around your head. When he doesn’t move, you walk across the room to shut off the running water, distracting yourself from the predicament you now found yourself in. 

“Is there something you needed, Captain? I’m not exactly dressed for a debriefing but we’ll have to make do.” You stand up and motion around the room, wanting to get this over with so you can drown in self-pity when you’re left alone. 

“No General, I only wanted to- well, I came here to see if…” He’s tripping over his words, and it would be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he just indirectly admitted to you what he felt when you called his name. 

“I know I’m not exactly being professional here but, since when do you get so tongue-tied around me?” You test the waters against your better judgement, wanting to see how far you can take this before one of you cracks. Rex shakes his head in defeat, and you realize that there’s no point in taking this any further, not when the man in front of you refused to cross the professional boundaries setting you apart. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Okay, here’s the thing Rex. I am freezing cold, and from what I’ve heard, the water won’t stay heated for a long time, especially during this weather. So until you decide what you want to do here, I will be getting in.” You take your slippers off and take a few steps around the tub, completely missing the puddle that collected from the flowing water.

“CAReful!” Rex is behind you in the blink of an eye, arms caging you against his chest to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself. You grab onto his arms to right yourself but the floor is too wet, and you find yourself awfully closer to him than a second ago. You meet his gaze and are suddenly mesmerized by the hazel green of his eyes, the ones you can barely see around his dilated pupils. 

“Kriff, that would have been a really bad fall. Thank you.” Your attempt at a joke is met with a serious expression, and you drop the smile when Rex slowly steps away from the slippery floor to help you stand up. He lets go of you as soon as you stand up, and you find yourself a little hurt at how quickly he wants to step away from you. 

“For a Jedi, your reflexes sure are slow.” The comment is far from insulting, meant to diffuse the tension rising due to the circumstances, but for some reason, your mind decides to make things worse and respond with a statement that is far from harmless. 

“I guess we’re even now.” Rex’s expression falls as he continues staring at you, and he doesn’t dare say anything in return as he walks around you and makes his way out of the refresher. Something in the way he seems to be genuinely hurt by your comment makes you run after him and pull his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stops but doesn’t face you, and you suspect it may be because he is angry with how you make light of such a crucial moment. 

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t- don’t be mad at me. I know we barely resolved our misunderstanding but I- I just… just don’t leave.” Your voice cracks as you practically beg him to stay, and only when he takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders slightly do you finally let go of him.

“You think I’m angry with you?” He turns around slowly and frowns at you, questioning your apology in a way that makes you think you were completely in the wrong. 

“Aren’t you?” You nervously play with your fingers, looking away from him when you can’t bear the scrutiny of his hurt impression any longer.

“No, maker no. I have never once, in my life, felt anything other than respect for you.” He reaches out for you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to make sure you are listening to every word he’s saying.

“Oh,” unfortunately for Rex, you misunderstand his confession and sag your shoulders in disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything more for you. Why would he? You’ve given him no reason to feel a fraction of what you’ve felt for him for so long. 

“I am not angry with you, mesh’la. I am angry at the prospect of you thinking my life is more important than yours, at you forgoing your principles just to save me.” Rex sees the way you shift uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling heavily between you. His gaze is steady, and you can’t help but return it when you see the fierce protectiveness he’s exuding, one you had not expected to encounter in such an intimate setting. 

“You- you jumped in harm’s way to save me, not even thinking of your own well-being. And later…on the boat, I saw the way you changed when he aimed his blaster at me.” He clarifies further, the revelation sending goosebumps down your arms and forcing you to step closer to him. You furrow your eyebrows at the implication behind his words, placing your hands on his chest without caring for any repercussions. 

“Of course I did, what else would you expect me to do?”

“Not sacrifice yourself for someone like me.” His answer comes in heated, and the level of hurt you feel rising in your throat makes you push him away from you. 

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” You snap at him, shaking your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing from him of all people. 

“I’m not as important as you are. I’m replaceable.” Rex must not expect such a reaction because he steps towards you right away, grabbing both of your wrists to speak words that he doesn’t realize hurt you more than him. 

“You- you think your life isn’t worth mine? Why…why would you even say that Rex? What makes you think you can even believe something so far from the truth?” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him, voice trembling with emotion at the thought of Rex believing something absolutely false. He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words as you melt into his arms. 

“Because I’m that one that should protect you. I should be the one making sure you’re safe.” He finally replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Again, it must not be the right thing to say because you only get more annoyed, fisting your hands and slightly pushing on his chest to keep his attention. 

“I hate to break it to you but that’s a two-way road, Rex. If I had to, I would do it again.” You say matter of factly, wanting him to fully understand that you don’t see yourself as any more important than him. 

“Why?” He lets go of your shoulders and slides his hands down your arms, enveloping your fists in the palms of his hands. 

“Because I- I’m your…” His grip tightens around you as you struggle to tell him what you feel for him. You avoid his eyes but he tugs you into his chest and makes sure you’re looking at him before he interrupts you. 

“What? You’re my General? You want me to believe you’re willing to die for me, or even change your own rules because you’re my superior?” 

“N-no…it’s not just that.” You shake your head, knowing that you should tell him the truth regardless of how difficult it can be for you. 

“Then tell me.” He begs softly, leaning into you until he touches his forehead with your own. The warmth of his skin sets you on fire, making you wish you could just confess to him and deal with the consequences later. 

“Tell me why you’d risk your life for mine.” Rex’s eyes soften as he shuts them completely, and if you weren’t so held up on whether his feelings were mutual or not, you would have understood what he was trying to tell you through the intimate gesture. 

“I can’t.”

“Tell me cyar’ika.” 

“Rex, I-” 

“Tell me me’suum’ika…please.” He cuts you off then, his pleading storming your heart with waves of emotions so overwhelming that you have no choice but to give him what he wants. 

“Because if anything were to happen to you, my life will be over.” You admit, voice shaking with fear and relief at finally letting go of the secret you’ve held onto for months. 

“Mesh’la,” the word is whispered with a warmth and gentleness that shake you to your core, and you finally open your eyes to look at him, finding nothing but adoration and tenderness staring right back at you. 

“Rex.”

“I can’t protect you tonight.” His gaze is…it’s more intense than you’ve ever seen, but it’s unwavering as it descends to your lips and refuses to attend to anything else. 

“Hmm?” You’re confused by his choice in words, caught even more off guard by the weight of them as you try to make sense of what he wants to tell you.

“I said…I can’t protect you tonight.” His voice is low, almost strained, sending you spiraling down into an abyss of an unquenchable fire. 

“W-why?” Your throat tightens, brows furrowing at the way Rex struggles with what to say in response. 

“Because every second I spend near you, not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or whisper how kriffing badly I have it for you is torture. It’s absolute torture. And now that I am here, with you looking so lovely, so- so…irresistible, telling me what I am to you, I can’t hold back any longer.” He exhales sharply, hands moving from your hands to your neck for a brief moment before you feel them wrap around you and pull you flush against his chest. 

“Then don’t.” The air between you cackles with tension, and Rex’s breath hitches at the raw, pleading tone you grace him with.

“If you let me taste your lips, know that I will never let you go.” He’s gathering the strength to speak, and when his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath away, it occurs to you that he’s barely holding himself back from you. 

“Rex?” He looks at you then, committing every curve of your face to memory as you call for him again, his heart stuttering at the raw vulnerability mirrored in your own pupils. 

“Please kiss me.” His answer doesn’t come in words, but in the way he shuts his eyes as he closes the distance between the two of you. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like a breaking storm—wild, unrelenting, and long overdue. You had expected him to be timid, gentle even, but the untamed way in which he instantly swallows your moans makes your knees weak, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling to the ground. 

You’re not sure who is more desperate, you or Rex, but as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel as if your lungs will collapse from the sheer need and surrender moving between the two of you. And as his hand cups the side of your face, you tremble at the sensation of his thumb as it traces your jaw until he tilts your head to the side.  

“Ohh g-gods,” you break the kiss for a fraction of a second, but Rex is unrelenting, claiming your mouth fully and moving his lips over yours until every inch of your skin comes alive with fire. You’re urgent in your touches as well, afraid that he will let go any moment and you realize this is all just a dream. But the more he consumes your skin, the quicker your heartbeat thunders against your chest and you press yourself closer to him in an attempt to ground yourself. 

When he does finally let go, your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, but there’s no time to collect yourself. His lips descend down your neck, and you throw your head back, pleasure coursing through your veins so quickly that you have to muffle your mouth to hold back from screaming his name. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Rex and he pulls back far enough to catch your attention, waiting until you’re blinking confusingly at him before he returns to your neck. 

“No, you don’t hide your noises from me. You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you in my arms…moaning for me, begging me to touch you and pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.” He leaves a searing trail of fire with each wet kiss, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and biting down harshly when you moan in return. 

“But what if Anakin-” He growls at the mention of his friend’s name, his chest tightening at the sound of another man’s name on your lips. His hand trails down your neck to your waist, squeezing you tightly as he slides his tongue down your sternum and coaxes more sounds from you the lower he goes. Rex looks up briefly, smirking with pride when he sees how disoriented you’ve become from such simple touches. 

“I don’t care, let him hear. Let them all hear, I want everyone on this planet to know who’s making you feel good. Do you understand me…General?” His confession burns through you, and he zeroes in on the pulse thundering against your neck, biting down harshly as his heart tingles with each moan you sing to him. The way he says your title, so possessive and crazes, sends a fresh wave of desire through you, and you have to fight not to crumble entirely beneath his touches.

“F-fuck, yes…yes Captain. I- whatever you want.” You gasp, voice breaking as you feel yourself sinking against him. You grip at his shoulders for some semblance of stability, the cool edge of his armor digging into your arms and reminding you how naked you are. 

“Come here,” his tone is commanding, full of raw desire, and you shiver at the power behind it, swearing beneath your breath when he leans down and slides his hands firmly around your lower back.  

“But the water-” You giggle at how quickly he moves from the refresher to the bedroom, and you feel yourself growing wet at how easily he picks you up. 

“You don’t need the water to keep you warm.” Rex shakes his head, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on the lips before settling you down on your sheets.

“No?” You tease, lower lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back from snickering at what he’s making you feel. 

“No baby, that’s what I’m here for.” he murmurs, leaning in close until he cages you between his arms. The bed dips beneath him, and you feel your heart racing at finally having your dreams come true. His eyes barely have any color left in them, and you squeeze your thighs together, excited at being the reason behind such a visceral reaction. 

“And exactly how will you w-warm me up?” You trail your hand down up his neck, tracing his cheeks softly and shivering when you feel the rough stubble of his jaw kiss your palms.  

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rex chuckles, the sound vibrating through the quiet air of the room and making you even more nervous. He draws deliberate circles against your breasts, watching with bated breath as your eyes shut instantly. 

“Yes…oh kriff, please Rex. Tell me…tell me.” The need you display to him nearly makes him choke. Never in his life did he think he’d have such an effect on you, but he doesn’t question it, instead giving you more so he can hear what he does to you. 

“Let’s see,” Rex leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks with a sinful whisper, “I’ll start off by kissing down your body.” 

“Hmm,” the image alone leaves you breathless, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, not caring for how loud you’re getting as your moans turn into long sighs. 

“And while you moan at feeling my hands trace your soft skin, I’ll…pull away.” His words trail off, and he suddenly pulls back completely, creating a rift between you that has you sitting up quickly and grabbing his kama to prevent him from getting off the bed.

“N-no don’t,” you plead desperately, refusing to let go of him as he returns to your side and kisses your forehead. 

“Shhh, don’t worry mesh’la. I’m not going anywhere.” He catches your wrists, pressing them against his chest to still you before slowly standing up again. He doesn’t break your gaze, and he waits until you relax to begin taking off his armor. You swallow the lump in your throat when you finally register what he just called you, and your breathe trembles as you nod in agreement, 

“But for me to show you how much I crave you, I need to remove all of this.” The promise in his voice makes you wish he could put you out of your misery and take you then and there. But you know better than to distract him. 

“Rex,” you whine his name like a prayer, unable to hide how much you want him. 

“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s all part of the plan, how else will I keep you running…hot for me.” 

“Force help me,” your head falls back as a groan slips past your lips, and you don’t notice where your hand descends until you feel Rex slipping his fingers around your wrist and shoving your arm away from your heated core. 

“You can call out all you want, little Jedi, but the only one here is me…so you better put my name to good use.” Rex leans in close again, hovering just above your body as he taunts you with promises. His voice is a delicious growl, one that has you shaking with anticipation and pulling another moan from your throat. 

“Rex…”

“Better,” the satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, and he brushes his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that leaves you chasing after him when he pulls away to strip. 

“Please Rex, I need you.” You beg sweetly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You should be embarrassed by how wanton you sound, but you find that you couldn’t care any less, the need to have Rex settle between your thighs outgrowing any shame you have. 

“I thought you needed to hear what I want to do to you?” His expression is dark and unreadable as he places his armor on the floor. He stands in nothing but the black body glove he wears beneath his armor, and you’re overwhelmed by how much you can see of him that you shut your eyes and throw your head back. Rex uses the momentary distraction to his advantage, sliding his eyes down your body to sketch a mental image of you in case he never gets to do this again. When he’s had his fair share of you, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s not wearing anything. 

“Look at me cyar’ika,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. When you obey and open your eyes, the air leaves your lungs dramatically, your mind unable to accept the fact that he’s more naked than you are, that you’re finally, finally, seeing all of him. 

“You- you’re torturing me.” You’re shaking with lust, praying to the Force that Rex decides to lose control and take what he wants. 

“Is that right?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, the ghost of a laugh escaping him and making you flush embarrassingly as he moves on top of you. “Oh…maker,” there is no hesitation in his movements, just a careful balance of control and desperate need. Rex holds you tightly in his arms and kisses you until neither of you can breathe. You think he might break you and for a brief moment, you want him to, if only so he could know how much you belong to him. You arch your back into him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of having his skin slide against yours. 

“Am I pleasing to you?” Rex lets go and wraps his hand around your neck, not firmly, but just to have you look at him. The muscles of his jaw flexes as he watches you lose control, his voice reverent as he practically begs for you to answer him. 

“You have no idea,” your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I think I have some id-” he smiles faintly, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone before moving further down your body. His words are cut off by a groan when he feels you scratch his head. He can feel every inch of you growing hotter beneath his touch, and he doesn’t hold back any longer, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he slips two fingers beneath your panties and tugs violently until they rip in his hands. You squeal suddenly, partly shocked by the reaction, but mostly turned on by how much he craves you. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Rex is shoving your thighs apart and kissing your inner thighs, the scent of your cunt hitting his nostrils and making him growl, the sound rumbling from his chest and setting you on fire. 

“Fuck mesh’la, you say I’m torturing you but the taste of you makes me…it- hmmm, kriff.” The gutteral sound sends heat pooling in your core, and you find yourself clinging to him even harder as you feel this lips ghost against the outer lips of your pussy.

“Rex,” you whimper, his name slipping from your lips as though it was the only word you knew. 

“I know I begged you to call my name, but…if you keep moaning it so shamelessly, this night will come to an end a lot quicker.” Rex stills suddenly, looking up at you with wild eyes, his control hanging by an extremely thin thread. 

“I- I don’t care Rex, I want you…I just want you, please.” You plead over and over again, trying your best to pull him up so he can forgo whatever he had in mind for you and just fuck you then and there. 

“But I need to get you- oh, Force help me.” He moves up your body, pressing his forehead against yours and tripping over his words when he feels you wrap your hands around his hard cock. 

“I’m already so wet for you baby, please…take me.” You whisper, desperation dripping from every word you pray to him. He’s heavy in the palm of your hand, hot and hard to the touch, and you wonder if this is how it will always be with him. You pray it is. 

Maker, please. 

“You should know, I need you so desperately that I- I may not be able to hold back.” His breathing grows ragged, the restraint unraveling rapidly the more you slide and squeeze his dick. He shuts his eyes and fists the sheets beneath you, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his jaw softly, licking down his throat and biting into the skin between his neck and his shoulder when he sinks against you.

Smiling at how easily you can bring his guards down, you pull him closer until your lips brush his ear, whispering the one sentiment you’ve thought of ever since you met him.

“Rex, I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” 

“Oh, me’suum’ika, I don’t want to do that.” His head snaps up, eyes narrowing as he stares down at you with a tenderness that melts you. Rex presses his nose to your temple, sighing your name over and over again until you let go of him and bring him down for a kiss. He pushes you harder into the bed, slipping his hand behind your back to undo your chest band before throwing it behind him. You break the kiss to look at him, and Rex is sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. 

“I want to fuck you like I can’t breathe without you. I want to fuck you like I can’t get the thought of you out of my head…I want to fuck you like you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your heart swells at the raw, needy emotion in his words, and your hands slips into his hair, scratching it softly and smiling with tears in your eyes when he leans into the touch and groans in return. 

“I am, I’ve been yours Rex. Only yours.”

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me baby.” Rex exhales shakily, attacking your chest with more kisses and waiting until he hears you call for him again before taking a nipple in between his teeth. You arch your back against him, opening your thighs so he can settle better against you before crossing your legs behind his back. As soon as you feel his cock tease at your entrance, a wave of shameless desire seeps through your body and you feel your cunt throb in pain at having him so close. 

“I- ohhh gods, I can’t wait any longer Rex.” You squirm beneath him, the action sliding his cock against you and making him bite your sensitive bud in return. “But…you deserve to be loved cyare. Slowly, deeply, passionately.” He wants nothing more than to push his cock into your pussy, but he waits, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for him so he doesn’t hurt you. 

“We can d-do that later, however long you want…whenever you like. But I need to feel you inside me, now.” You shake your head, voice desperate and lust-filled. He studies you for a brief moment, and when he finds nothing but a needy truth swimming in your eyes, he pushes away and leans back to get a better look at you. His eyes zero in on your cunt, and his cock twitches at finally having you naked and willing beneath him. 

“Spread your legs wide for me, and if it’s too much…if I’m too much, tell me.” Rex swallows hard, his eyes softening before darkening once more. You nod quickly, watching him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it across your cunt to spread your juices on him. The gesture is so filthy, and if it were any other man, you would have found it off-putting. But this was Rex, and you had only imagined him fucking you about a thousand times. 

“R-rex,” you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, the sensation both overwhelming and mind-bending. Rex can’t take his eyes off of where you’re connected, and his breathing picks up when he begins to feel you clench around him, his cock sliding with ease from how wet you are. He can’t believe that he barely touched you and you were so ready for him, but he pushes the thought aside, wanting to relish every second he’s allowed to be inside you. 

“Ah f-fuck, you’re…you’re so warm, so kriffing warm and tight.” He curses softly, his head falling back briefly before his eyes return to your cunt once more. 

“I want to feel all of you Rex,” you run your hands over his arms, feeling the tense muscles shift with every movement. You silently wish that he falls against you so you can feel his body atop yours, and it must be evident in the way your eyes trail up and down his body because he slowly pushes himself on top of you, his cock sinking deeper into you as he shifts closer. 

“Sweet girl, my beautiful jetii’ika.” Rex looks down at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence, and something that should terrify you but instead makes you feel warm and cherished. 

“You’re s-so deep inside me Rex, I feel…full.” Your voice hitches as he continues to push his dick inside you until he’s fully seated deep in your cunt. You bite into your fingers but Rex shakes his head, reminding you of his warning from earlier. 

“Remember, your sounds are mine tonight. I want to hear everything that I do to you.” He grits his teeth, hands digging into your hips as he forces you to let go of your fingers and call his name. 

“I love being this close to you... it’s perfect.” You confess, barely managing to string together a coherent thought as you feel him throbbing inside you. 

“God, you feel so tight around me…” He wants to pull back and thrust inside you, but he holds back out of fear of hurting you. It’s only when he feels you wrap your legs around him and force him to move that he understands what you want from him. He pulls out until the crown of his cock is seated perfectly in between your pussy lips, and as soon as you moan for him, he thrusts back inside, the sensation sending his mind in a frenzy and nearly making him fuck you into oblivion. Rex stops for a moment, wanting to keep himself in check so he doesn’t terrify you by how much he craves you. 

“Mmm, and you feel so big, so fucking hard and big. Move, Rex…please.” You throw your head to the side, biting into his wrist and whining in ecstasy when he obeys you and slowly snaps his hips against you. 

“You’re so wet for me already and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He mutters beneath his breath, licking and sucking on your neck as he continues to shove his cock inside you, suddenly feeling dizzy at how perfect you feel around him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to chuckle in response and meet his gaze in an intense gaze, parting your lips and answering him with another, lust-filled confession.  

“That’s because I- hmmm, I’ve imagined you fucking me every night since we met, and- and now that I’m here, in your arms-” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, digging your nails into Rex’s back and smiling when you see his features turn into a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Tell me baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire as he continues to fuck you passionately. 

“Nothing compares to h-how you fill me up, Rex.” You confess, shaking at how perfectly Rex feels inside of you, cock hard and hot as it slides against your tight walls. 

“You have no idea mesh’la,” you can tell his control is slipping further, and you wonder what it would take for him to lose all control and take you as you desire. 

“I can- can feel how much you want this.” He leans down and swallows your moans, slipping his tongue inside of you and claiming your mouth while his cock claims your cunt. 

“Yes... don’t stop. Go deeper, just like that.” You wrap your arms around him, breathing heavily against his ears as you feel him push into you with a pace that’s nearly blinding. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. This cunt was made for me, perfect fucking pussy. I can spend hours between your legs.” Rex’s voice comes out heavy, and he reaches down to place his arm around one of your thighs so he can push it higher and come closer against you. 

“Please, harder…fuck me harder Captain.” You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations Rex continues to rip from your body. 

“Whatever you want to make you lose control, General.” Rex groans in return, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes through the room, a frenzied beat that matches the pounding in his heart, he suspects, yours as well. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and when he finds you biting your lower lip to contain yourself, he slams harder into you until he has your attention. 

“Look at me while I’m inside you... let me see how much you love this.” He demands assertively, eyes searching your own he feels sweat drip from his brow. There is a thick haze of lust clouding the room, and before you can even answer him, he thrusts harder, deeper, inside you, forcing your body to react in ways he only dreamt of. “Rex…I- I’m, I’m yours... all yours.” You acknowledge him without even thinking, the need dripping from your words matching the same one you can see storming in his eyes. 

“You have all of me cyare, my heart, my soul…my everything.” Your confession drives him mad, and the look of pure ecstasy etching on your features sends him reeling, his body trembling as you cling on to him while he pushes you closer to the edge. You sob with pleasure as his movements pick up, his words igniting something primal inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you getting closer. Don’t hold back—let go for me. Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze me..fall apart for me.” The possessiveness radiating off of him in waves should terrify you, but instead, you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you so you can feel every inch of him as he coats your walls with his seed. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve lit up like a wildfire as you approach that inevitable release. Rex must feel it too because he sinks into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and something sweet that he might never forget. 

“I’m so close... oh fuck, I’m going to come!” You cry against him, voice breaking as your body teeters on the brink of bliss. 

“Fuck- I…I can’t. I need to-” His rhythm begins to stutter, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic as he fights to hold on until he feels you come on his cock. Rex’s grip on you tightens, his fingertips pressing into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to reality, to the gift the universe has handed him after so long. 

“Don’t hold back, Rex. I want you to come for me, come inside me. I want to feel you…want to take you so deep, fill me up. Please…p-please Rex,” you plead, clawing at his back as you show him that you need him just as desperately. Hearing you beg for him to fill you with his cum shatters the last of his resolve, his pace faltering as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he finally lets go, the pleasure crashing over him overtaking him just as it engulfs your body. He feels you tighten around him, your body convulsing so violently that he can’t figure out whether it’s you who’s crying in pleasure or him. 

You’re completely spent, your pussy throbbing harshly as you feel Rex shoot long, hot spurts of his seed deep inside you. It shouldn’t please you so much, but knowing that you have him reach places inside you that no one else will make the pleasure all the more intense, and you twist your head until you can kiss along his neck, silently letting him know that you will never belong to anyone else but him. 

He collapses over you then, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t suffocate you. His head is still buried in your neck as you both gasp for air, body trembling slightly as he presses soft kisses to your skin in return. His lips linger over your pulse point where he can feel your heartbeat racing as quickly as his own. Rex lifts his head until he meets your eyes, his own brimming with affection as he smiles at you and nudges your nose with his.

“Baby, you’re everything to me.”

“Rex, I…I think I-” you start, voice quiet and uncertain, afraid that once you tell him what you feel, you will lose it all…lose him. 

“I know. Cyare, I know.” He murmurs gently, his hand cradling your face as he leans down and kissing you slowly until you feel nothing but warmth and understanding. 

And in that moment, you have no doubt that something deeper than words binds the two of you, something that no one will ever be able to take away from you. 

Against his wishes, Rex pulls out of you with a groan, biting into his lower lip when he hears you whine with contention. You don’t let him go too far, sliding against his side and nuzzling into his chest as he pulls the covers above the two of you. 

A comfortable silence fills the air and after a while, you look up to find Rex meditating deeply, his attention focused on the ceiling high above you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, fingers moving up and down his chest in a soothing way. 

“I’m thinking of what will happen tomorrow now that you won’t be keeping your distance anymore.” He means it as a joke, but when he looks down and sees your hurt expression, he drops the smile and leans over to kiss you, letting you know that he meant no harm by the comment and was just teasing you. 

“Rex, I’ll do whatever you want to do going forward. If you want me to act as if nothing has changed, I’ll do that. And if you want to tell your brothers, it would make me feel so happy…and- and if you want me to leave the Order, give up everything…I will gladly do so without a second thought.” Rex’s expression shifts, his brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his close-cropped hair. He looks at you like he’s trying to make sense of your words, trying to fit them into the reality he had come to know in the past rotation. 

“You- you would leave the Jedi for me?” His voice is rough with disbelief, and for a moment, he is genuinely convinced he has misheard you. The idea that someone like you— strong, steadfast, bound by your sworn duty to the Jedi and the Republic—would ever consider leaving all of it…for him…maker, it seemed impossible. It had to be. 

“I would do anything for you just to have you keep looking at me the way you are now.” You cut through his disbelief with the utmost sincerity, gaze never once wavering as you do your best to make him understand what he means to you. The silence that follows hangs heavy in the air, and Rex swallows hard as searches for the right words, for anything that could match the depth of what you just offered him. He reaches out, trailing his fingers over your cheeks as he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. The touch of his lips is reverent, as if he wants to assure himself that you are real, that you are in his arms, that you are willingly giving yourself to him without a second thought. 

When he finally pulls away and sees tears pricking against your eyes, he smiles at you and nods in understanding. 

“How about we go day by day, and when this war is over, we can reassess.” He finally says, his voice less anxious than before. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms, hands going to your waist to pull you flush against him. You cry out in pain and push yourself away from him, the reaction catching Rex by surprise and making him sit up to see what he’s done When he sees you grabbing at your wound and hissing in discomfort, dread settles in his chest as he realizes he forgot the wound and handled you a lot more aggressively that he should have. 

“Kriff, your side…I- I completely forgot. Mesh’la, are you-” He leans over to assess the bacta patch, wanting to see the damage he’s done and already thinking of what to tell Kix when he asks him to come and inspect the wound. His panic rises as you push his hand away and look down to find the patch still in place, and only when you’re sure no blood has seeped through do you grab Rex’s hand and settle it against the wound. 

“Rex, relax. I- to be honest with you, I’m not sure whether or not I felt any pain. I was so far gone in our…activities, that I didn’t really focus on anything else.” His eyes are less anxious as you allow him to massage the skin around the wound, and when he sees there are no lies in your words, he nods and studies the irritated skin one last time before settling back down, bringing you into his chest gently. 

He smiles when he feels you kiss just above his heart, giggling softly when you pinch his side and tease him for being so cuddly. 

“Can I ask you something?” It’s his turn to interrupt the silence filling the room, and tilt your head up to nod at him. 

“Anything!” His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles at the earnestness in your voice, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of giving him the answer he’s been seeking for months on end. 

“At what point did your feelings switch from wanting to be with me physically to…to whatever they are now?” Rex hesitates, choosing his words carefully and refusing to look anywhere else out of fear of missing a change in your facial expressions. When your brow lifts and your hand returns to his stomach, you can’t help but smile at him and shift your gaze to a fixed point somewhere on the skin beneath your palm. 

“You mean when did I know that I’m yours?” His face flushes with embarrassment, but he nods instantly, not wanting to turn this moment awkward by his boyish reaction to your rather honest sentiment. 

“I don’t think I can pinpoint a day or an hour, it all happened so suddenly and I didn’t realize how deep my feelings ran for you until I was so far gone in them.” You exhale deeply, turning a little contemplative as you admit to him everything you’ve felt for the past year or so. 

“If I were to pick a reason though, it would have to be the way you carry yourself with your brothers, with Anakin even.” He looks down at you then, his gaze unwavering as he feels his soul light with a fire that he’s sure no one will ever put out now that you’ve kindled it. 

“Seeing you give up so much to ensure your brothers live for another day stirred something inside me. And knowing that you’d follow Anakin into a battlefield without a second thought is…it’s- maker Rex, you’re amazing. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” Your voice cracks slightly with emotion, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you let him know that you will never care for anyone more than you care for him. Rex blinks down at you, stunned into silence at the raw honesty behind your words. 

“The loyalty, the courage—it speaks volumes.” His chest tightens as you speak those words, and he can’t help but turn to face you fully so he can focus on nothing else but the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“Come here, me’suum’ika.” He wraps his arms around you and molds you into his chest, stealing the breath from your lungs with a kiss that you’re sure would rival all the others he’s gifted you with so far. You let him take whatever he wants from you, sliding your arm around his back to feel every inch of him as he makes you forget the universe outside of your room. 

“What does that word mean?” You smile at him when he finally breaks the kiss and trails his lips across your cheeks and down your neck. 

“It means ‘little moon.’” Rex murmurs gently, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for your ears. Your heart swells at the tender nickname, and you press yourself closer to him, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as you’re allowed. You breathe his presence to anchor yourself to him, refusing to acknowledge the chaos of the war raging outside your existence, here in this moment. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper pleadingly, voice barely audible. “Please.”

Rex’s hands tighten around you, and he brushes his thumb over your skin as he pulls you back to meet your gaze. 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, cyar’ika.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you lose yourself in his arms, knowing that nothing will ever compare to what you now share with him. 

And as you slowly succumb to sleep, Rex silently thanks the mythical bird for giving him what he’s wished for. The war may not be over, but it could wait. The galaxy, with all its heartbreak and evil, can be someone else’s concern. Tonight, Rex had you, and that was more than enough.

You were all he ever desired.