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Hera knows he's been waiting for her, but, as has happened many times before, she got caught up in work and has been in the pilot's seat for hours. She had absolutely no intention of making him wait for so long...but there was some research that needed to be done for the upcoming mission, and yet another illegal upgrade to the signature masking systems to investigate.
(Kanan has been meditating while he waits for her, but he knows he’ll have to retrieve her tonight.)
Now, Hera gets back on the computer to test and see if that upgrade can be installed. If it wasn’t the middle of the night, she’d go find Chopper to help her, but she knows that that would be inconsiderate to everyone else on the ship. Her crew’s complaints about her droid’s loudness might be dramatic, but they’re still valid.
(Kanan waits for a while.)
(Sighing, he gets up from his bottom bunk and quietly walks into the cockpit, then takes a seat in the copilot’s chair, not making a sound.)
Hera is so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t notice. After a moment, she sits back, entrenched in thoughts about how to make this update work in the Ghost’s system, the intel that she’s been soaking in intertwining with it in her brain until it’s all a bit jumbled.
Her eyes are automatically drawn to the viewport of the cockpit so she can stare out at the stars as she thinks. As her gaze shifts, she spots a familiar figure in the copilot’s seat and jumps.
Her tone reflects her surprise. “Kanan.”
“Hera,” he imitates her.
The Twi’lek being addressed rolls her eyes.
“How long have you been here, exactly?” she asks, raising an eyebrow tattoo.
“Several seconds.”
Hera doesn’t lower her eyebrow. “And how long were you planning to sit there without saying anything?”
“Until you noticed me,” Kanan smirks.
"Nice," Hera reacts dryly, then a wave of drowsiness passes over her. The lateness of the night is setting in, and she’s been fighting these waves off for several hours now.
(Kanan notices and is determined to make her give in to them.) “I’ve been waiting for you," he says.
Hera’s drowsiness fades due to her anticipation of spending time with him, but then guilt sets in. “I’m sorry I kept you up,” she apologizes, eyes flitting from his to the floor.
“You didn’t,” Kanan replies calmly. “I was meditating anyway.” Relief seeps into Hera at that.
“But I’m ready to go to bed now,” he continues after a moment, smiling and offering a hand to her.
She turns off the screen and gets up on her own, smirking at him as she does so. Then her smile softens as she takes his hand.
Kanan’s face takes on a tinge of pink. “Uh, you’re ready too?”
Kanan isn’t typically the one who’s blushing, so it makes Hera smile even more as she nods, then nudges him forward gently. “Go on,” she prods, then in a teasing tone, “fearless leader.” She’s proud to have pinpointed her version of his “Captain Hera”.
Kanan raises his eyebrows, then, in a tone that feigns concern, mockingly asks, “Are you sure?”
Hers rolls her eyes and assumes her own snarky tone as she quotes him. “How about a little less attitude?”
Grinning and not missing a beat, Kanan responds, “How about a little more altitude?”
Pleased that he understood her reference to a much earlier conversation, Hera playfully raises an eyebrow and remarks, “I thought you wanted me out of the cockpit.”
“I mean—give...” Kanan blushes again. Hera privately finds this flustered side of him cute.
Kanan sighs and leads her into his room, closing the door behind him. “I don’t know what I meant.”
Hera chuckles as she follows him in. “Uh...which bunk?” Kanan inquires, gesturing to his bunk beds. Usually, Kanan and Hera sleep in her bed, if Hera isn’t sleeping in the cockpit and they aren’t separated on missions, but tonight, they’re in Kanan’s instead.
Ahsoka Tano and Lux Bonteri are currently staying in Hera’s cabin—they’re living on the Ghost for about a week to help out on missions for a while. Supposedly, Lux came along so that he could observe what Ahsoka does and offer advice for how she can improve. However, Hera has a strong suspicion that the couple (who Hera has gathered is married--she has her ways) also happens to desperately need some time alone. That's something that the pilot understands on a deep level. That’s why she and Kanan decided to change the rooming arrangements after dinner that evening—Hera and Kanan couldn’t watch the way Lux and Ahsoka had been looking at each other longingly and then force Ahsoka to room with Hera and Lux with Kanan. Hera had used the excuse of needing to spend time with Kanan—which, okay, might not be entirely untrue, but that genuinely hadn’t been her motivation—to request a change in rooming arrangements. Ahsoka, believing that she was doing the Jedi and Twi’lek couple a favor, had no idea that she’d really done a favor for herself.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Hera answers Kanan's question now.
“I’ll take the top,” Kanan decides, and, against her will, Hera experiences a twinge of disappointment. She’d assumed that they’d be sleeping in the same bed—though it was small, it would still be possible for them to fit without being completely on top of each other. She attempts to keep her face from falling, but suspects that he can see right through her.
He always can.
Kanan nods, then studies her for a moment. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” She blushes a little as she makes an effort to shake off her disappointment.
He puts a hand on her shoulder. “No, it isn’t,” he refutes gently.
Hera’s eyes haven’t met his since they first came in here. Embarrassment at her own disappointment creeps in. Kanan’s usually the one to initiate things like this, and she isn’t in the mood for merciless teasing.
Though she guesses that she’s going to get it no matter what she does, given that it’s Kanan.
He’s been helping her work on actually verbalizing what she wants and needs when it comes to things that aren’t related to missions. It isn’t demanding to let someone know that you’d like something, especially if they just don’t understand what you want, he’s told her before. And especially if it’s me. You know I’ll always do whatever I can to make sure your wants and needs are fulfilled. She decides to use the advice he’s given her and considers a creative way to express what she wants. Once the idea comes, she locks her gaze on his and describes, “It’s just…it’s cold in here.”
Kanan raises an eyebrow. “Then turn up the heat.”
Wow, Kanan, I never would have thought of that solution, Hera thinks as she rolls her eyes. Thank you for enlightening me, wise Jedi.
“You can have the bottom bunk,” Kanan tells her.
She raises an eyebrow. “Makes sense, given that it’s the only one left,” she remarks dryly.
“However, I want it too.”
Hera’s spirits rise, and she feels herself light up, though she’s doing her best to keep her feelings under control. She crosses her arms and gives him a snarky little smirk. “Looks like we’ve got a dilemma, then,” she comments.
“Can you think of any solutions?” Kanan asks, innocently inquisitive.
Her smirk gives way as she tries to hold back an excited smile. “I have one in mind.”
Kanan can’t help grinning a little. “What is it?"
"Kanan,” Hera groans in an exasperated, complaining tone accompanied by an eyeroll. Then she turns and goes into his refresher to get ready for bed, lekku bouncing behind her.
(Kanan chuckles and sits on the bottom bunk.)
After a few minutes, Hera comes back out, headgear still on, but she’s changed into a loose, comfortable grey shirt and brown pants that hit just below her knees. She places her boots and gloves on the floor, then comes and sits by Kanan.
Kanan looks at her hands. “Hmm...wanting to show some skin tonight?” he asks. Hera almost never removes her gloves, and it took at least a year until Kanan ever saw her bare hands. They enjoy overdramatizing her removing her gloves. Kanan mostly started doing it as another excuse to flirt with her--no surprises there. He brushes his fingertips across her exposed hands.
Hera’s stomach flutters. “You’ve got a special talent,” she tells him softly. “You know what it is, right?” Hera looks up at him, putting on a vulnerable and dreamy, yet flirtatious expression that's as far from her usual self as possible.
Kanan’s breathing picks up speed. “I—I might.”
(He does not. But he doesn’t want to make her compliment him.)
Kanan slowly takes hold of her right hand, keeping intense eye contact.
Hera’s expression and voice go deadpan. “You never fail to make me roll my eyes at you.” Her lips curl into a playful smirk.
Kanan’s energy fizzles out.
“Hm,” he says, releasing her hand. Then he crosses his arms and adopts what’s clearly an overdramatic, sulky expression meant to imitate his Padawan. It’s pretty accurate, so Hera can’t help but chuckle at him. She reaches for his hand, and he uncrosses his arms quickly to allow her to take it. “I guess you have a few other skills, too,” she admits, still looking up at him, her voice reaching a more genuine tone.
Kanan drops the Ezra impression and grins. “Yeah.”
After a moment, his eyes move to her headgear. She smiles a little, then raises an eyebrow to ask why exactly he’s looking at that.
“Is your head cold?” Kanan asks.
“Not really,” she replies. She knows he’s encouraging her to remove her pilot’s cap and goggles. He does this often, knowing that she’s more comfortable that way…and he clearly loves that she’s reached the point of being willing to reveal her exposed head to him.
Kanan takes her hand again and kisses it tenderly, and goosebumps ripple over Hera. After all these years, Kanan’s actions still get reactions out of her every time, however imperceptible those reactions might be.
Hera stares at their hands, then meets his eyes to see what’s going on inside of them. She finds nervousness tinged with determination.
She wonders what that determination might lead to.
Holding his gaze, Hera removes her headgear with her free hand, looking away slightly as she tosses them across the room to join her boots and gloves. When she looks back, Kanan’s grinning. “Much better,” he declares, maintaining eye contact with her. He rubs her hand with his thumb. She often forgets how much of a relief it is to let her lekku hang free. She shakes her head so that they can bounce freely, and Kanan seems mesmerized by them. Hera notices this and smiles softly, feeling slightly self-conscious as butterflies congregate in her stomach.
“Have you slept in your headgear?” Kanan asks.
“I have most of the times we’ve spent the night together,” she points out.
“Yeah—I meant to ask if you always sleep in it,” he amends, meeting her eyes. She can tell that they’re drawn to her lekku. Kanan never seems bothered by the differences between their species. In fact, he faces them with an attitude of wonder and appreciation.
“Well, if I’m not with you, I’m in the cockpit,” Hera replies, “and I don’t usually bother undressing up there. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“Does...doesn’t that hurt your lekku?”
Hera considers this. “It was a little constricting at first. But most of my people wear something to keep them out of the way. I did when I still lived on Ryloth.”
Kanan makes a humming noise, his gaze drifting back to her lekku for another moment. Then his expression grows mischievous. Uh oh.
Underneath her snarky expression, excitement grows within Hera.
“Who else has seen these?” Kanan questions, taking her other hand in his other and massaging it.
“Anyone who knew me as a little girl,” Hera answers, enjoying his expert massaging. How did he get so great at this?
She decides that, for now, she doesn’t want to know.
“And…haven’t we used disguises before that don’t involve those?” She points to her gloves on the floor.
Kanan shows her a goofy grin. “Yeah.”
Hera gives him an exasperated smile and a slight eyeroll. “But most people don’t get to see them often,” she adds, a bit of flirtatiousness in her smile now.
Kanan teasingly elbows her. “So you’re saying I’m special?”
Hera elbows back just as teasingly. “Maybe a little.”
“Just a little?” Kanan questions as he elbows back.
“Don’t push it, love.” Another elbow.
Kanan pokes her arm and banters, “Aye aye, Captain.”
Hera swats him away playfully. “Don’t ever say that again, Kanan,” she orders.
“I’ll do my best,” Kanan smirks.
Smirking back, Hera asks teasingly, “Am I asking too much of you?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Kanan informs her.
Hera’s stomach does a flip. She commands it to stop being so annoying.
“It’ll be difficult not to use—to use—“ Kanan snorts. “To avoid”—he laughs a little before suppressing it—to avoid what you don’t want me to say.”
Hera stares at him with a raised eyebrow throughout this stuttering episode.
“What’re you laughing about?” she asks suspiciously, still holding his hand.
“This is more difficult than I expected.”
“You’re being confusing.”
“I’m being confusing??”
Hera’s expression seems to scream, “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”
“Okay, start over,” Hera tells him.
"I don’t understand your issue with the word,” Kanan says, shrugging.
Hera gives him an innocent look. “I don’t have an issue with the word. Not unless you’re the one using it.”
“Just me?!” Kanan cries bewilderedly.
“I did say that you’re special, love,” Hera reminds him, expression and voice are fully deadpan yet again.
“But how is it only me th—who annoys you when I say it?!"
There’s still plenty of attitude in her voice (as always), but there’s gentleness there, too. “Tone it down a little. You know how the boys hate being woken up. And no one else says it like that.”
Kanan lowers his voice. “I didn’t realize I sounded aggressive when I said it.”
Hera is becoming a bit exasperated at this point. Not that she wasn’t already. “Not aggressive. Just…” She assumes he’s been trying to get her to admit this and resigns herself to it. Looking out from beneath lowered eyelids, she says in another deadpan tone, “annoying.”
The left corner of his mouth quirks upward, then goes back down.
“So...if I learn to say it not-annoyingly...?” Kanan coaxes.
With an eyebrow raised, Hera inquires, “Why are you so set on saying it?”
“Do you realize how hard it is not to say it??” Kanan asks incredulously. And very dramatically, Hera might add.
She gives him a skeptical look.
“You try,” Kanan challenges. “You can’t say the word for the next 15 minutes.”
“Hang on,” Hera stops him. “I’m not sure if we’re thinking about the same word here.”
“You told me not to say that again,” Kanan explains, expression neutral.
“You can say it once; just so I’m sure I know what you’re talking about,” she allows.
“I did.”
“I’ll just assume I’m right, then,” Hera says dryly.
“About what?” Kanan asks.
“Which word you’re talking about.” By all the stars in the galaxies above, this man is frustrating.
“Which word do you think I’m talking about?” The man in question needles.
“I’m not falling for that,” Hera informs him knowingly. “You’re trying to make me lose the challenge you came up with earlier.”
“You already did,” Kanan smugly lets her know.
Hera crosses her arms and proclaims, “Kanan Jarrus, you are so difficult and you know it.”
“Hm, says the one who banned one of the most common Basic words,” Kanan shoots back.
“I meant to ban”—she says the phrase in a derisive, flat tone—“”aye, aye, Captain””.
Kanan sighs dramatically. “Then why did you say I couldn’t say that again?!”
She’s very exasperated now. “Say what, Kanan?”
“What?” Bewilderment—probably faked—spills from his voice.
Hera glares at him.
Kanan’s poker face is about to break.
Hera can see that, and her newest mission is to make him break. She keeps glaring straight into his eyes.
Kanan looks away for a couple of seconds, then regains his control.
“I did what you asked,” he says.
She’s still staring at him, eyes narrowed. I will make him break.
“Sure you did,” she agrees, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I said what!” Kanan is wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
(HERE IT COMES)
The massive eyeroll does indeed come.
Kanan cracks and bursts into laughter.
In a tone still soaked in sarcasm, Hera compliments, “I’ve always admired your maturity.”
Kanan seems to be laughing harder because he’s trying to be quiet, tears forming in his eyes.
If she’s being honest, Hera’s trying to keep from breaking herself. She loves seeing him so amused, even if it’s just because he loves being infuriating.
“So—so why can’t I say that?”
Hera flops onto her back, her brain exhausted from the long day, the lateness of the night, and, now, Kanan’s nonsense. Her voice conveys how done she is. “You can say “what,” Kanan.”
Shortly, Kanan retorts, “I know this. But why can’t I say that?”
In the same voice, Hera tells him, “You can say the word “that”.”
Kanan heaves a dramatic sigh of relief, huffing, “Thank you!”
He promptly collapses into a fit of laughter.
Hera emits a mix between of a scoff and a growl and closes her eyes.
“Are you—proud—of me?” Kanan wheezes.
“Do I sound like I’m proud?” Hera asks, done with his antics.
“So proud,” Kanan answers, gently pulling her into his arms.
Hera mutters, “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” but she lets him pull her in. She relaxes and exhales, releasing much of the tension that she constantly carries within her.
“After living with you for...” Kanan ponders, then seems to not grant the search worth the effort. “I think I know you better than anyone.”
“You should, anyway,” Hera murmurs.
“I know you love my smile.” You're right about that. She can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s giving her a goofy grin. She makes a noncommittal noise, but can feel her face heat slightly. She’s decided to pay him back for being difficult by keeping her eyes closed, though.
“Open your eyes.”
“You’ll have to convince me,” she retorts.
Kanan pushes up on one of her eyebrow tattoos. Sometimes he does random things like that. He’s an unpredictable one. She furrows her tattoos at his randomness.
Kanan begins to tickle her sides, and she starts squirming. “Stop it!” She tells him, swatting at him.
“No,” he replies, not stopping.
“Kanan!” she cries insistently, making an effort to scoot away.
“Look at me,” he tells her.
“Or what?” She challenges. Kanan tickles her faster, and a laugh escapes her as she does her best to push him away, but he’s too strong. He laughs with her. No matter how exasperated or annoyed she might be, she can't deny that laughing with him is one of her favorite things to do. “I…should have stayed…in the cockpit,” she chokes out, holding back the rest of the laughter that’s bubbling in her.
“No...come on, Hera,” he coaxes.
“You know…I never surrender.”
“You will.” He tickles under her arms.
Hera grabs his wrists and holds them tight. Kanan gasps quietly. “No, I won’t,” she refutes defiantly, grinning at his surprise.
Kanan gets close to her face, then turns his head and whacks her with his ponytail. Hera flinches. “Kanan!” she reprimands.
“Hera!” Kanan echoes mockingly.
Hera makes her frustrated noise again. “I’m supposed to be having a break from kids right now,” she grumbles.
“Okay, okay, you win,” Kanan tells her.
Hera, whose eyes have remained closed throughout these latest antics, squeezes her eyes shut tighter. “You can’t trick me that easily.”
“Please?”
“Not if it’s a trap.”
Kanan strokes the side of her face. “Come on.”
His touch catches her off-guard, and she blushes a little. It’s the surprises that always fluster her the most.
She really wants to look at him right now.
But she’s also very stubborn.
“Only if you promise it isn’t a trap,” she demands.
“Well…I promise."
Her vibrant eyes, which are narrowed suspiciously, peer at him through her lashes.
His eyes sparkle as soon as she opens hers. The tenderness in his look makes her heart skip a beat, and she opens her eyes fully to look into his. She notices anew just how beautiful they are.
(Kanan’s stomach twists into a knot.) “I missed them,” he tells her gently.
She makes a humming noise, lost in his eyes.
Kanan’s thumb gently caresses her cheek.
“You know, when you’re not being annoying…” Hera lets the sentence trail off, just to tease him and make him curious.
Kanan lifts his thumb. “What?” He asks eagerly.
Hera raises her eyebrows mysteriously.
“Hera...” Kanan groans softly. Now he’s the exasperated one. Hera feels very proud of herself.
Innocently, she replies, “Yes?”
“Finish.”
“Who’s the one giving orders around here, again?” Hera raises an eyebrow.
Kanan smirks. “I’m not allowed to say.”
Hera smirks back. “Mm-hm. Then I guess you aren’t allowed to tell me what to do, either."
“No, but I can suggest,” he says, stroking her face again.
Hera blinks quickly as she experiences a sudden surge of feelings. Smiling slightly through the rush of emotion, which shows only through her eyes, she confirms, “Absolutely.”
Her voice becomes quieter, more musical, as she finishes her sentence from earlier. “When you’re not being annoying, you can be pretty endearing.”
A deep chuckle emanates from Kanan. “So can you.” He smiles lovingly, now stroking her eyebrow, her forehead, her cheek with his forefinger.
Hera smiles back lovingly and moves closer to him. Then she treats him to one of the snarky looks that he earns so often. “You know you’re going to have to make up for what you pulled, right?”
Kanan looks flustered. She finds it pretty satisfying when the tables have turned. “Or—or what?” he asks.
“You really want to find out?”
“…Give me a sample.”
“All right.” Hera sits up, climbs off of the bed, and starts heading to the cockpit.
“Okay, I’ve had enough,” Kanan decides hastily.
Hera turns over her shoulder to smirk at him, placing a hand on her hip, knowing just how flirtatious it is and not giving a kriff. It's Kanan, after all.
Speaking of Kanan, the Jedi gets up and wraps his arms around her. He holds her there in a hug, and Hera willingly settles into it and returns it.
Kanan kisses her cheek, and her lips curve into a smile as her heart picks up speed.
In a low, deep voice, Kanan asks, “How’s this?”
Hera hums in consideration, trying to ignore just how much that tone excites her. “Good,” she answers. Then her voice takes on a bit of a devilish tone, one she rarely uses. “But you can do better.”
She feels Kanan’s breathing speed up.
“Come on.” He releases her so she can walk, but takes one of her hands and gently guides her back to the bed. Hera instinctively tries to hide her eagerness as she follows, but then realizes that there’s no reason for her to do so. Kanan pulls back the blankets so she can get in first. She does so, then waits for him, looking up at him expectantly.
Kanan gets in beside her. “Are you cold?” he asks.
Now that he’s let go of her, she’s shivering a little. “Yeah.”
“You want another blanket?”
“I’ll be fine,” Hera moves closer to him and murmurs very quietly, “I have you.”
Kanan does exactly what she was hoping he would and envelops her in his arms. She wraps her arms around him, too. His warmth chases all of the cold away, and Hera feels fully safe and comfortable right here with him.
Kanan rubs her back, then, just as Hera wistfully begins to imagine a massage and wonders if and how she should ask for one, Kanan’s touches evolve into a deep massage.
Hera emits a quiet, blissful sigh. Kanan hasn’t given her one of these in quite a while, and it feels amazing. Her muscles are full of tension—especially since, only a few weeks ago, Kanan was captured by the Empire and almost taken to Mustafar.
(Kanan gets goosebumps at hearing her sigh.) He kisses her cheek again and continues coaxing the tension out of her through his expert touch.
Hera relishes it, letting herself fully relax into him; allowing him to make all the stress and tension fade into nothing but bliss and peace.
She looks up at him to see him beaming. (He almost tears up, for some reason.) He kisses her nose.
“What is it, love?” she murmurs, sensing his change in mood.
Clearly reluctant to disturb her, Kanan whispers, “You’re so relaxed.”
“We make the impossible possible, right?” Hera remarks.
"Mm-hm,” Kanan confirms, working her neck and shoulders now.
After a moment, Hera wonders, “Why is that making you upset, dear?”
“Not upset...” he assures her. “You’re always stressed. I’m glad to see you at rest.”
Hera smiles a little. “You know it’s thanks to you.”
“That’s why..." Kanan makes an incredulous noise. "I can’t believe it.” He buries his face in her neck, but doesn’t stop working out her knots.
“You should,” Hera affirms. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this way.” She gently pulls the band holding his ponytail free, slips it onto her wrist, and starts stroking his hair.
Kanan lets out a relaxed hum and kisses her neck. She inhales in pleasure. Kanan does it again, pressing harder on her back at the same time, causing Hera’s heart to start beating more quickly. She moves one arm from where it encircles him and moves both hands into his smooth hair, which now flows freely around his head. Hair has always fascinated her, since all she has are eyelashes, and she’s just a little bit obsessed with his.
Kanan says her name in that way, slow, deep, and intense. “Hera...”
Her heart skips a beat. She feels chills rush over her every time. Hera lifts his head gently and presses a kiss to his forehead, then places her forehead against his. In a tone bursting with warmth and love for him, she echoes his name back to him.
His eyes are closed, but his brows are furrowed like they always are when feelings are overtaking him. Hera can relate.
Kanan’s eyes open just long enough for him to put his lips on hers, then they close again, and her breath catches. There was so much love in his eyes, and there’s just as much in the kiss. In her core, what Hera has always longed for is to be loved. With Kanan, she knows that this longing is fulfilled, and it means the world to her. Her eyes blur with tears now, as she realizes that she almost lost this forever. Waves of emotion roll off of her.
(Kanan feels her emotion, and it’s making his stronger.)
Hera grips his shirt with one hand (Kanan’s heart lurches). The other stays in his hair, playing with it more incessantly as she tugs him closer. It’ll never be close enough—she never wants to let him go again. She knows full well that the risks they take are worth it. In fact, she often is the one to remind her crew of that. At this moment, though, it’s hard for her to imagine anything being worth losing him for. She conveys her feelings through the kiss as her lekku twist into the gesture that means “I love you.” (That’s how Kanan can always tell when she’s feeling fully devoted to him—when the Rebellion takes second place inside of her.)
Kanan breaks the kiss. “Why are you crying?” he questions indignantly.
Hera makes a valiant effort to blink the tears away.
Kanan moves a hand to her face and wipes them from her eyes instead.
Hera shivers a little, her thoughts taking her far away from his warm embrace. She lets go of his shirt for now and places her hand on top of his, holding onto it tightly. She reminds herself that he’s here, that they didn’t lose him, that she went back for him, and that they didn’t leave him to die. Her other hand slips from his hair down to the side of his face and caresses it, a bit of desperation in her touch. “Just thinking about what happened a few weeks ago,” Hera explains. “And what could’ve happened,” she adds, her voice fragile.
What almost did.
Kanan smiles gently. “Thank you.”
“What?”
“For coming back.”
Touched, Hera struggles to hold more tears back. The drowning guilt and shame returns.
“Of course I came back,” Hera declares fiercely, then admits, “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Coming back was the easy part.”
“You’re so strong, Hera,” he compliments as he holds her tighter.
“Doesn’t feel that way when you aren’t here,” she reveals, one hand squeezing his, the other stroking his face with urgency.
“I know the feeling,” Kanan assures her, nothing but understanding filling his expression.
Hera wants to get even closer to him, but she doesn’t know how. She just doesn’t feel like this longing to further cement their bond can be satisfied—not without crossing a line that she drew long ago, for many reasons.
Then she gets an idea, and her heart starts galloping.
Her voice becomes unsteady. “Kanan, I think I’m ready to try something,” she begins. Immediately, she can tell what he assumes she's referring to. Nervously, Kanan asks, “What—what is it?”
Her deadpan tone returns. “It doesn’t involve removing clothes, Kanan.”
Hera watches relief sweep over Kanan. He’s told her before that he never wants to cross the line that she drew. They didn’t expressly say that they wanted to wait until marriage…in fact, they’ve never discussed marriage at all outside of the occasional joke or teasing comment, but it’s clear that waiting until then is what they both believe is best for their relationship. “Then what does it involve?” he inquires.
“What you were staring at earlier.” Hera’s right lek, or, as her people call it, tchin, barely grazes Kanan’s hand. He watches it move, wide-eyed, then they widen even further when he comprehends what he's implying. His breath catches (and his stomach triple-flips). “Y-you want me t-to...” he breathes.
As always, Hera is thrilled by how he fully realizes how much of an honor touching a Twi’lek’s lekku truly is. Her heart is thundering and her lekku twitch expectantly. “I do,” she confirms breathlessly.
“You’re sure?” Kanan asks, still tentative, fear in his eyes.
Hera’s stomach flips and butterflies swarm within her. No one has ever touched her lekku—not like this.
“I’m sure, love,” she assures him.
“Where- where should I...will I hurt you?”
That’s why he looks so afraid. Her heart melts. Hera caresses his face gently, rubbing his hand with her thumb reassuringly. “You won’t hurt me, Kanan,” she tells him firmly, looking straight into his eyes. “I told you, I fully trust you. If I thought you would hurt me, I wouldn’t let you do this.”
“Tell me if I do,” Kanan sounds slightly breathless, too. She watches as he barely brushes the right lek right in the middle—
Whoa.
Hera stills completely.
Fireworks explode inside of her.
It’s by far the best thing she’s ever felt.
Energy sparks within her at the touch, starting at that spot on her lek and beginning to spread—but he pulls his hand away almost immediately. Hera blinks at him, all power of speech taken from her, eyes the brightest they’ve ever been.
(Oh.)
(All right.)
Kanan puts his hand back, his touch still gentle as ever, and slowly moves it up and down.
The—energy? passion? spark? Hera can’t pinpoint exactly what to call it—spreads throughout her right lek. It seems to her that she’s been longing for this her whole life, but has just never realized it.
She blinks quickly, a thousand feelings and experiences surging through her as she remains completely still.
Kanan speaks softly. “You all right?”
A beaming smile breaks out across her face. “Better than all right.” The voice that comes from her is tinted with the accent of her people, which hasn’t ever come out around Kanan before. Even as her eyes widen at the accent that she involuntarily used, she can’t stop smiling. It’s not just how amazing this feels—it’s also the fact that the love of her life wants to do this, the most intimate thing possible, with her.
Kanan grins a moment after she does, gasping slightly at the difference in her voice. (I must be doing well, then.)
She meets his eyes, a bit of rare shyness in hers. Sometimes Hera forgets about which species she belongs to, since she spends most of her time around humans and other species and has all but left her culture behind, until a man looks at her a certain way, or a slur is called out after her. However, this reminder of her species doesn’t feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. In fact, in this moment, she feels thankful to be a Twi'lek.
Kanan moves his hand down to the tip of her lek, stroking it with his thumb. Her cheeks start to flush darker than she’s ever felt them do before.
(Kanan’s blushing too, still slightly afraid, but he’s also never enjoyed anything so much, especially something that is specifically done to bring another person pleasure.)
Hera searches his expression to see what he thinks of this so far.
(Kanan wonders what would happen if he kissed her while doing this. I might break her. She’s the strongest person I know, though…so maybe not.)
Hera finds nervousness in his eyes, as well as a bit of concern for her, which touches her. His care for her is always so obvious and sweet.
Kanan moves his hand to the top of her lekku and gently rubs around where they connect. (He thinks that that might feel nice after they’ve been restrained in the headgear all day.)
She smiles brightly again, eyes going glassy as she enjoys how nice it does indeed feel.
(Her reactions are bringing him so much pleasure.)
She moves the hand that’s holding his to feel his heartbeat. It takes her a second to find the right spot, since she’s a little disoriented at the moment. She finds it beating almost dangerously fast. This time, her voice comes out in the Outer Rim accent that she’s picked up over her years of Rebellion work. Even her initial change of accent was partially motivated by her desire to separate herself from her father and from Ryloth. “Almost as fast as mine,” she comments, her voice not completely back to normal. It’s childlike and dreamy, her words almost slurring together. “Are you all right, Kanan?”
“Yes, I am,” he promises. “Just...nervous.”
“Don’t be—“ but when Kanan slowly wraps the lek around his hand, she finds herself unable to form coherent words. Her breath shudders and her stomach flips. “Kanan…” her voice rises in pitch as she says his name.
(Kanan's about to lose control of himself.)
Kanan uncoils the lek, cupping his hand around the top and moving it down to the tip repeatedly. Hera's unable to form coherent thoughts, too. Feeling after feeling washes over her, love for him and ecstasy and bliss. A shiver runs through her, contrasting how she’s been utterly still up until now.
She grasps his shirt again, more overwhelmed and flooded with emotion than she’s ever been.
Kanan’s bottom lip quivers, his breathing matching the shallowness of hers.
(He has a strong desire to kiss her, but he worries that it’ll be too much for her.)
Though she currently can’t keep her head or her cool like she usually can, she can and does remain observant.
Playful suspicion coats her words. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”
Kanan nods. “May I?”
Her lips curve in a smile. “Go ahead.”
Kanan kisses her passionately while thumbing circles on her lek. She shivers again and pulls him closer by his shirt, kissing back with just as much passion.
Sabine would be proud of the display of explosions going on inside of Hera right now.
She just feels so loved.
For once, she doesn’t care that this is self-indulgence. Besides, she absolutely loves seeing the happiness that is obviously filling her significant other at the moment.
Kanan speeds up his touches, starting to caress tchun with his other hand.
(This feels amazing to him too. He loves seeing her in such bliss.)
Hera gets so overwhelmed, giddy, and happy that all she can do is giggle into his lips.
Kanan grins, pulling away in order to talk to her. “That was cute.”
“You haven’t called me that before,” she comments absently.
“Did you like it?” he inquires.
“Get back to me when I can think straight,” she replies, but she knows that her smile gives him his answer.
Kanan nods and kisses her nose sweetly. “Are you tired?” he asks, ever considerate.
She wraps her arms around him. “Not anymore,” she murmurs.
Kanan kisses her cheek and glides his hands down her lekku. She beams, her hand moving into his hair. She starts playing with it, having to do something to get some of this bubbling energy out or she’s going to explode. “What does it feel like?” Kanan inquires curiously.
After she catches her breath, she looks at him through shining eyes, thinking. Then she turns a pointed look on him. “I can’t describe it if you’re doing it.”
“Hm.” Kanan stops. “How about now?”
She blinks a little, disoriented. Her mind becomes sharper, more focused, though she’s still reeling, flushed, and glowing. The world seems to return to its normal state. “It’s hard to describe,” she begins. “I’ve never felt anything like it before.” Rather than playing with his hair due to overflowing energy, she now fingers it thoughtfully. She’s still buzzing with life and passion and energy, though.
“It’s the best, Kanan.”
He listens intently, seeming very intrigued.
“Like fireworks going off inside of me. Like flying—but it’s better. It’s the greatest show of trust I can give you.”
Kanan closes his eyes. “I love you, Hera Syndulla. I am honored that you fully trust me.”
Hera’s speechless for a moment, but this time it’s because all she can do is stare at him, wondering what she did to deserve him.
Her lekku are still tingling, feeling very much alive.
She tells him tenderly, “There’s no one else I’d rather have than you, Kanan Jarrus,” and presses a soft kiss to his lips.
He tentatively returns it.
She senses his change in attitude. “What is it, love?”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he explains, the truth of that written on his face.
“I can tell you, if you want,” she offers.
“You don’t have to,” Kanan tells her, clearly not wanting to ask for compliments, gently running his hand down a lek.
Hera inhales sharply with pleasure, but gently takes his hand so she can talk. “But it would help, wouldn’t it?” she presses gently.
“…Yes,” he admits.
“You’ve always respected my boundaries,” Hera starts, taking her time choosing her words, making sure that she chooses the ones that will best express just how much he means to her. Her voice is soothing, confident, and firm. “Even when you were “lost”, you found ways to help those in need. When you had feelings, and…I didn’t reciprocate, you never forced yourself on me.”
Kanan holds her a little closer as he listens.
“You’re always the first one to come to my aid. If I ever need anything, I know you’ll be right there. Having you makes me stronger. You're courageous and willing to sacrifice yourself for others--obviously,” she smiles sadly. “You care about them. About everyone we fight for. You may not have been the one to suggest we take Ezra on, but the way that you’ve taken him under your wing and trained him so well…Kanan, it makes me so proud.”
As she speaks, she watches tears come to his eyes, each word clearly touching him deeply.
“Hm. I...hm,” the smooth-talker utters.
She finds his loss for words amusing and caresses the side of his face with her thumb. “I’ve always wanted to find someone like you, love.”
Kanan’s eyes widen, and he clearly doesn’t know how to respond. Hera assumes that that means that she's done her job.
“You too,” he returns simply, both arms wrapping around her tightly.
Hera hugs him back, her heart full.
“Thank you, Hera,” he tells her, gratitude infused into every syllable.
“You’re welcome,” she says warmly. Then she starts playing with his hair again. Kanan smiles, clearly enjoying it.
“No one else has ever touched them, you know,” she confides easily. “Not like this.”
“I wondered,” he divulges, stroking her back lightly. Hera replies with a “mm-hm.”
“Thanks for letting me be first,” he tells her, his spirits clearly lifted even more than they were before.
“Of course,” she responds, certainty filling her tone as she continues. “No one else but you ever will--if I have anything to say about it.”
“I was hoping for that,” he discloses, then chuckles. Hera joins him.
“Only you,” she reassures, placing her other hand on his chest.