Work Text:
"You said when the war ends-" Thorn murmured, draping his arms around Fox's shoulders as Fox lounged in his far too plush and comfortable armchair. Thire and Stone were lounging on top of one another in the far too nice apartment that they had been given, that the guard had been given, a complex to themselves to house those that chose to stay on Coruscant. "You would tell A-17."
"I did say that, didn't I?" Fox mused as he lifted his eyes from his datapad, the news outlets were still going on about the ending of the war, and how the Chancellor was behind it all, poisoning the heart of the Republic from the inside.
Fox still had issues with it, but as days went on and he reluctantly attended sessions with a therapist alongside his riduure, he was slowly getting better (though it was mostly at ignoring it).
"He's your buir Fox," Thorn nuzzled into the side of his neck, placing a soft kiss there as he rested his weight on Fox's frame. "And he was happy when he heard about Rex and Doom."
"That's because Rex is his favourite." Fox muttered, scrolling to the next page of the news report.
"You're his favourite-" Thorn pressed his chin into Fox's shoulder. "Why else would he come all the way to Coruscant, wanting to see you, he didn't even come for Kenobi's wedding to Kote."
"That-" Fox countered, dimming his datapad screen and setting it onto the coffee table with a quick flick of his fingers. It clattered onto the stone top, Thire's internal decorating decision, and he turned his head to catch Thorn's eye. "Was because he was overseeing the reallocation of the cadets and tubies that were still on Topica City, You knew he wouldn't have missed it otherwise."
Thorn flicked his nose playfully in response, something he always did to Fox when he thought the Marshal Commander was self-sabotaging. Fox made a half-disgruntled noise but didn't shake Thorn off of him.
"Fine. I will tell him…" Fox conceded.
When he noticed that Thorn was grinning wildly, he quickly added. "When he comes here."
*
Saying he would tell 17 that he had up and taken the vows in the middle of the war because he thought he would lose his cyare'se was easier in theory. Action, especially when it came to 17, who made his displeasure known quickly and loudly, little fanfare and minced words attached, was much harder. Fox needed to arrange for a time and place where he had the advantage.
And an escape route.
Fox didn't have a choice however, when Buir barged into his office in the middle of the sleep cycle, while he and Thorn were draped on top of one another on Fox's rickety, old, but somehow still surviving, office chair behind his desk.
“Why is it that I have to find out from Mij’s hibir that you had the night-” Seventeen trailed off, blinking as he spotted Thorn and Fox curled up together, precariously balancing in the old office chair. Fox had stolen that office chair off one of the side streets during a patrol years ago, at the start of the war. It had witnessed worse than Thorn lounging on top of Fox.
Fox stiffened and straightened up, almost, but luckily not, throwing Thorn out of his lap. Thorn himself sat up, with a clear nod towards Seventeen. Fox had to fight the instinct to salute, born from years of training under Seventeen and the strict nature of their studies.
Buir’s face softened in a way that made Fox feel slightly better about being caught off guard being affectionate.
“At ease Fox’ika.” Seventeen edged his way into the room and allowed the door to slide close behind him. He reached behind him, a moment later the keypad blinked to red, indicating that Seventeen had locked the door. “You too Thorn.”
“Welcome to the Marshal Commander’s office, sir.” Thorn greeted, always the first to have the words come out of his mouth, whether or not he’d actually thought them through though, was a different story.
“Yeah.” Seventeen murmured, glancing around the bare office with little comforts. “I can see that.” His gaze returned to Fox and Thorn.
"I can come back later?" Seventeen offered after another moment of awkward silence between the three of them.
"No it's alright." Thorn said, climbing out of his chair, Fox's lap, and standing. He leaned down to press a quick kiss to Fox's hair before he glanced over at Seventeen and smiled. "I have a couple of kiddos to go wrangle, I told Carrie to do it but the ad'ika deserves a night off."
"You better hope Carver didn't catch you poaching his favourite trainee." Fox pointed out, tone mischievous and familiar. He caught Thorn's hand in his and squeezed it.
"Yeah yeah," Thorn waved his free hand half-heartedly before, as quick as a blaster bolt, he kissed Fox and left the room, leaving Seventeen and Fox to stare at one another in an ever growing silence.
“So.” Seventeen said after a moment. “Vio’s ad huh? You and him, been together long?”
Fox made his way around his desk so that he could lean against it, arms behind his back, fingers pressing into the edge of the table. “Three years… give or take a couple of months.”
"That's the length of the war. Kote and Kenobi have only been together for half that." Seventeen murmured in disbelief. "And that's including them taking the riduurok."
Fox wondered how he would react to learning that he, Thorn, Stone and Thire all exchanged the riduurok after a near death experience that had almost left the Coruscant Guard without any of their commanders. A near death experience that had happened in the first year of the war, leaving them scrambling for each other and not wanting to lose the lifelines they had.
Fox loved them, and he knew he had issues expressing affection beyond closed doors, pretty much only the Guard, with the exception of few others-
and Seventeen was looking at him like he was expecting a response and Fox didn't quite know how to say to him.
*
Fox had changed since Seventeen had last seen him
In addition to looking older like most of his batch thanks to the war, Fox had dark circles under his eyes, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, not quite genuine. He looked tired, like his bones ached when he walked. He had scars snaking down his temples and up the neck of his blacks, crawling over his cheeks and around the curve of his lip. His eyes held his cards close to his chest.
Just the slightest bit wary and on edge.
A far cry from the vicious and tiny, fiery ball of passion he knew as a cadet.
Seventeen wanted to say something else but he couldn't find the right words to sound eloquent, so he held his arms out instead, looking at Fox.
"Come on ad'ika."
Fox swayed forward, tentative, waiting for the invitation to be rescinded before his 6ft frame barreled into Seventeen's larger and broader one. Arms wrapped around his waist and a face planted itself against his chest plate and squeezed.
Him looking up from Seventeen’s chestplate with eyes far too young, eyes that were afraid, Seventeen couldn’t help but feel sorry for his ad that he left on Coruscant. To some extent he had thought Fox capable of handling everything Coruscant had thrown their way. To some extent he had thought Fox had it just a little bit easier than his brothers.
How wrong was he when the war ended and it was revealed that there was a Sith on Coruscant, Fox’s direct superior. Seventeen wrapped his arms around Fox and squeezed him, the way he used to do when Fox was three heads shorter and looked at him with just a little bit more awe and wonder.
So he had thrown himself into his work on Kamino in an attempt to distract himself from the idea that he had failed Fox by letting a Sith get so close to his eldest.
“When’s the ceremony?” Seventeen made himself ask. He wasn’t expecting Fox to to minutely stiffen in their hug.
“There is no ceremony-” The muffled response came, and Fox’s eyes turned away from him in favour of being pressed into the plastoid armour Seventeen was wearing.
Alright… Okay Seventeen could work with that. Not every vod wanted to exchange vows. Not every vod wanted to take the riduurok, or have a ceremony. There were plenty who wanted little fanfare when it came to their relationship.
Fox was of the private sort, he would be one of them.
“That’s okay-” Seventeen tried to soothe him the same way that he did a cadet Fox. “You don’t have to have a ceremony, plenty of vode don’t-”
Quiet, again from Fox as his grip around Seventeen’s waist shifted before it loosened and Foxx pulled out of the hug, despite Seventeen not wanting to let his kid go.
“We already had the ceremony buir.” Fox said, wringing his hands in front of him.
It took a moment for the words to register with Seventeen, who was more focused on the shift in Fox’s body language, closed off, wary, like he was expecting disappointment- Seventeen wondered if it was an instinctive response after years of being under a Sith’s command, that fear of disappointment. He didn’t want to see that look on fiery Fox’s face.
Oh.
Oh.
“When? How?” Seventeen gripped Fox’s shoulder and squeezed him with pride.“That’s great! If he makes you happy then I’m happy.”
Still, Fox was wringing his hands in front of his belt like something was bothering him.
“Not great then?” Seventeen corrected curiously.
Silence.
Shifting.
Fox’s eyes darted around his office.
“What is it?”
“ ImighthavetakentheriduurokwithStoneandThiretoo.” Fox admitted in one breath.
Seventeen blinked and scratched the side of his head in disbelief.
Of all the things Seventeen did or did not expect his eldest to get into, trouble or otherwise, having three riduure was not it.
Having three riduure .
Fox got married.
“When?”
Seventeen hoped that his voice, that his tone, wasn’t too forceful as he watched Fox and waited for a response.
The sigh Fox let out was soft, almost resigned.
“It was just after an attack on the senate. The casualties were so high that the civvies rioted.” Fox pursed his lips. “Thorn almost died, Stone almost lost his leg. Thire lost sensation in a patch of skin on his back, nerve damage.” Fox listed the consequences like they were inevitabilities.
Seventeen wondered if Fox had resigned himself to that kind of ending, if Fox had resigned himself to dying on Coruscant, to losing his riduure.
“And you?” Seventeen asked, dreading the response.
Fox, instead of answering, removed his right bracer instead, stripping his glove off and tucking it into his belt just above his kama. Fox tucked the bracer in his left armpit and began rolling up the sleeve of his blacks. It revealed an ugly scar, thick and silvery, almost the width of a vibroblade, snaking up the length of Fox’s forearm. It stopped at his elbow and curled around the joint.
The implication was there, but Seventeen needed confirmation.
He opened his mouth.
“Carver and Murmur were in surgery for seven hours. They couldn’t put me in bacta because we didn’t have enough.”
“Oh ad’ika.” Seventeen murmured as he reached out for Fox and gathered him up in his arms.
“I wish Coruscant was safer for you.”
“It’s okay, buir.” Fox’s voice was soft. “The war’s over, we’re alright.”
And Seventeen wanted so badly to believe that, he pressed his nose into the top of Fox’s curls and held his eldest just for a moment longer.
