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There are few people in the galaxy Boba Fett considered his equal. You were rather inclined to agree, his infamous escapades as a bounty hunter for the Hutts and the Empire warrant him the ego. It does not surprise you that he overlooks you the fist time you run into each other at Jabba’s palace. You had yet to build such a name for yourself at the time. That did not mean you were any less capable though. It’s not long after you first cross paths that your name starts getting whispered in the dark corners of the Hutt palace. Jabba had sent you out after a lieutenant of his that had defected to Crimson Dawn and not only had you managed to bring him back alive, but you’d brought back the spice he’d stolen on his way out. After Jabba had his fun feeding the man to his pit of beasts, he’d paid you more than handsomely for the job and returned goods. Fett tipped his hat, or rather his helmet, to you that day. The pride you felt at the recognition was almost better than the small fortune you’d earned.
The first time you work together he is respectful but stoic. Jabba had a job he wanted done right, so he requested his two best bounty hunters work together to insure he got the outcome he desired. You had assumed at the time Fett’s silence was a manifestation of his annoyance, after all he never needed help on these types of jobs and Jabba was insinuating he did by making you come along. Hutt boss or not it was an insult to his reputation and abilities as a hunter. As your partnership continued you found that was not quite the case. Although the Mandalorian had an ego that could dwarf Tatooine he is not opposed to having you around, it just takes some adjustment.
While you’d never classify Boba as talkative, he does open up. They’re in slow increments but he does open up. You find yourself trading stories of your hunts and the strangest places you’d ended up as time goes on. The continued partnership leads down deeper roads as time wears on, eventually he confides in you the story of his father, the clones and his years fighting to find his own person amidst it all. Despite your own rough exterior, you find your heart aching for your fellow bounty hunter. A product of the Clone Wars yourself, you’ve known loss from a young age all too well.
You’re cannot pinpoint when it changes between you. It’s never addressed. Just a mutual unspoken agreement between the two of you. What was an occasional partnership turns into you taking up permanent residency with him on Slave I. His jobs are yours and yours are his- a package deal. The softer words come shortly after- well soft for Boba- followed by a closeness you’ve never known with anyone else. You don’t sleep in your own cot for very long, your things moved in next to his. The long hours in hyperspace are soon occupied tangled up in each other across every inch of his ship.
It terrifies you how much you yearn for him when you are apart.
As the months turn into years you two continue to dance around it but continue on nonetheless, trapezing across the galaxy by each other’s side as if nothing could stop you. Until the universe decides to step in and prove you wrong.
You’re there that day when Boba tumbles into the sarlacc pit. After barely escaping the wreckage of Jabba’s ship with your own life, it takes all you have to hold yourself together. Every piece of you mourns for him, mourns for the other half of your soul. You cannot even bear to step foot on Slave I when you finally get back on your feet.
Bib Fortuna comes out on top once the dust settles following Jabba’s sudden demise. He’s happy to keep you around to continue where you and Boba left off. Knowing nothing else you take any job he throws your way. Anything to keep you busy, to keep you from thinking about everything the universe has taken from you.
Time moves slowly as you hunt on your own. You wonder if you were this lonely before Boba came into your world. It almost makes you laugh when you think about how your past self would look at you now and sneer over the fact that a man has brought you so low. You had clawed your way out of the gutter all on your own. You had earned you place at the top of the Guild on your own. You had been more than the woman on Boba’s arm. You were his equal.
As the Empire falls and chaos reigns you prove that again and again. The Rebellion turns into a new republic and you find yourself hunting down Imperial warlords across the galaxy. It feels a bit hypocritical considering these were the men you and Boba used to make a living off of but seeing the scars they’ve left across the galaxy quickly soothes your conscious. By the time the Republic begins to crack down on bounty hunters you’ve save up a small fortune and decide it was good a time as any to retire. Better now than in a New Republic prison.
Despite the painful memories the planet holds you find yourself returning to Tatooine and settling down. Of all the places to spend the rest of your days you could have picked somewhere with better weather and less sand, yet when you think of leaving something deep in your gut tells you to stay. Eventually you find solace in a remote little moisture farm, happy to just sustain yourself and the occasional traveler who wanders out your way. The solitude is welcome after all you have seen. It leaves no one else for the universe to take away from you.
You do not think much of the hooded figure as they approach one quiet evening. Your farm is the last stop before open desert and Tusken territory, so it has become more common for travelers to stop over before trying their luck crossing the dunes. It’s just enough social interaction to keep you sane between trips into town for supplies. You’ve just finished up for the day, the twin suns going doing over the horizon as the cloaked traveler reaches your door. You greet them with a small smile, offering water and a bed for the night.
The planet seems to stop spinning when he throws back his hood to reveal the face of the ghost who has haunted you all these years now.
Ever sharp eyes watch you as you drink in his countenance. Scars wind their way across his skin, disappearing under the collar of his cloak, leaving you to wonder how far they reach. His bald head is a stark contrast to the dark mess of curls you used to enjoy running your fingers through. It pairs with the new wrinkles across his face, making him look older than you know he is. But it is still him. It is Boba standing on your doorstep. Alive.
Your name on his lips steals the breath from your lungs. How long had you yearned to hear his voice again?
“Boba? How?” you shake your head, “I saw you fall into the pit. I watched you die.”
His face falls. You wonder if he realizes how much that hurt you to watch and not be able to help him. “My armor. Not even a sarlacc can digest beskar.”
That must be what left the scars then, the stomach acid of the desert beast had still done its damage despite the infamous metal Boba donned.
“I was barely alive when I escaped the beast… I’ve been recovering ever since.”
“Oh Boba…” it takes all you have to not start bawling on the spot.
You swear you can see the same emotions behind his watchful eyes. For so long you had wallowed in your hurt, all the while he had been suffering on his own as well. “I’m sorry, cyare.”
“Wha- what are you apologizing for, Boba?”
One rough hand hesitantly brushes a stray tear from your cheek, “for taking so long… for leaving your side for so long…” his voice cracks, “for being stupid enough to leave so many things unsaid before I left you. I spent every moment in that beast’s gut regretting all the moments I did not say a thing.”
A sob bubbles up in your throat as the tears begin to fall in earnest.
“Can you forgive me, cyare? Could you ever let me love you again?”
Falling into his waiting arms you admit what has been following you around since the day you lost him. “I never stopped loving you.”