Work Text:
Nights on Mandalore were cold. The surface hadn’t been the only thing left dead and barren in the aftermath of Cataclysm and Great Purge, damage extending to the planet’s atmosphere as well. It wasn’t until now, unprotected from the wind on the surviving Mandalorians ship, that Bo considered the impact on temperature regulation. The sun could barely reach through the layers of rain and trinitite hail cloaking Mandalore, leaving the ground frozen and the air cold.
Bo clenched and unclenched her hands in an attempt to get some blood flowing, suppressing another shiver. Even Kalevala had not been this cold, despite its seemingly never easing rain.
The others were spread out on deck, some lulled into a light slumber by the gentle swaying of the ship, others talking quietly. It was the most peaceful she ever saw various Clans coexist in a single space, no yelling or fighting. Despite their best efforts, neither her nor Satine had been able to achieve this. She scanned over the blend of Mandalorians, eyes slightly narrowed, until she found who she was looking for.
Koska was sitting near the makeshift tent with her head leaning against the railing, eyes almost fully closed. She perked up when Bo approached her.
“I…”, Bo started, trailing off. There hadn’t been an opportunity for them to talk privately ever since she reclaimed her fleet, most their thoughts conveyed in glances and glares. Koska had always been able to read her like an open book, after all. “Thank you for volunteering”, she finally finished.
The other mustered her, clearly debating something as the silence between them stretched out.
“I’m not upset”, Koska said, her tone more gentle than expected. “And you didn’t exactly leave by choice.”
“I wasn’t going to-“, Bo frowned, before Koska cut her off.
“Yes you were. You’ve been oozing with guilt ever since he gave you the saber.” She tilted her head towards the front of the ship, where Din was talking to one of the roaming Mandalorians with Grogu balanced on his lap. “Besides, if anyone should feel guilty, it’s me. Us. We left you. Not the other way around.”
Bo sat down next to her, a deep sigh leaving her body. Koska was right, and yet she felt like she failed them. Failed to reobtain the Darksaber, failed to defend Mandalore, failed her sister. It was all she ever did, wasn’t it? She could hardly blame her fleet for leaving to move on without her.
“There’s just so much inside of me. I don’t know where to put it”, she admitted quietly. “It’s like I keep trying to make up for something only to fail. And then trying to redeem myself I fail again.”
There was more she wasn’t saying, couldn’t say. Maybe she had already said too much. It just kept spilling out of her tonight.
Koska slowly shook her head. “If you would truly believe that you would not have accepted the Darksaber again. Or even attempted to find us.” She looked at Bo in thought, brows furrowed together. “There’s guilt in you, but there’s also faith. Assurance. What changed these past cycles?”
What had changed?
She couldn’t tell either. On Kalevala it seemed that all feelings had been sucked out of her, the anger and hatred she felt following the events on Gideon’s ship suddenly vanishing, leaving her empty and tired. Bo’s memory of the next rotations was vague. She’d spent most the time replaying past events and conversations in her head, only interruption being her footman droid, reminding her to not discard the most basic needs. Apart from the occasional mechanic voice quiet and stillness spread through every room, every hallway, making the castle seem more akin to a tomb than a place of leadership.
When Din showed up, it had felt so senseless, so naïve to truly believe there was anything left on Mandalore to pursue. She’d scoffed in disbelief, and nearly choked on her jealousy.
And then returning to Mandalore wasn’t a choice at all, his Kid demanding, not asking, and the sight of Sundari’s ruins stirred something in her she had long believed gone and buried.
Yet this hadn’t been what restored her faith.
Bo let her gaze drift across the surreal mix of Mandalorians sprawled out in front of her on deck before letting it linger on the Armorer, who was still tending to the wounded, changing medpads. The movement of her hands was quick and skilled, similar to the few times she had seen the other woman forge beskar, telling her this most likely wasn’t the first time she’d been in charge of patching up a group of injured.
Beside her, Koska followed Bo’s gaze, also coming to rest on the Armorer.
“I guess that makes sense then.” The smirk was evident in her voice. Bo tore her eyes away from the wounded on the other side of the ship, eyes wide and surprised.
“What makes sense?” She felt heat rushing to her cheeks. Kriff.
“One could cut the tension between you two with a vibro-blade”, Koska noted, letting her head drop back against the railing again. “The way you looked at her when we landed on Nevarro”, she elaborated after Bo tilted her head in question.
“You got so“, Koska paused as she was looking for the right word. “So calm. Didn’t even seem to care about Axe and that big guy nearly breaking into a fight.”
She had felt relief and a sense of calmness settle over her once the Armorer had stepped out of her tent, hitting tong and hammer together to divert the attention onto her, and away from Bo.
“And then when she volunteered to join you. Don’t think anyone expected that, at least judging by the expression of those around me at least.”
Bo looked up in surprise. “She is leader of the covert. Of course she was going to join us”, she replied confused. Her own feelings she knew well enough, she just hadn’t been aware they were obvious to others. Maybe it had been foolish to assume the other Mandalorian wouldn’t immediately see through her, and the effect the blacksmith had on her. Like the tip of her ears turning the slightest bit red every time the other called for her. But to think that the Armorer…?
Koska gave her a look, again. “That’s why it’s surprising she didn’t choose to stay with the fleet. Did we not all send our best fighters?” Bo nodded slowly, as she continued. “A coverts leader usually stays with the people. To protect. She chose to go with you.”
Not knowing what to say, Bo undid and redid the cording of her glove, eyebrows drawn together in thought. Despite the initial wonder she hadn’t dwelled much on the Armorers decision to join her, the assumption that she was cause for the choice too absurd to even consider.
Where did she go from here?
-
It was the creaking of the wooden planks that startled Bo out of the light slumber she had fallen into. The moons of Mandalore stood high, reflecting on the beskar armor of the man standing in front of her, making it shine.
“The Armorer wishes to speak with you”, Din said quietly, reaching out a hand to her.
Bo opened her mouth, only to close it again. Was this about her confession earlier? She bit the inside of her cheek in worry, before taking his hand and letting him pull her up.
“I-“
“Isn’t that interesting.”
She turned around to see Koska smirking up at her. If they would’ve been younger, perhaps more innocent, Bo might’ve called it gleeful. Now their lighthearted exchange just seemed awfully unfitting. Koska didn’t seem to mind that, mouthing something that looked a lot like have fun. Bo glared.
Chayaikur.
Din, who either hadn’t taken notice or simply could not be bothered to react to their silent exchange simply moved his helmet, indicating that the Armorer was staying at the back of the ship. Behind the sleeping wounded was the tent, blocking her view on where she supposed the other woman was waiting for her. Bo took a breath, cool air filling her lungs, straightened her shoulders and gave him a firm nod.
It really was quiet. The only sounds cutting through the silence were the wind and the occasional creaking caused by someone’s movement. Bo couldn’t remember ever having experienced Mandalore silent, the domed cities echoing with noise of all sorts at any given time. Even on their few excursions to the desert outside the domes it hadn’t been quiet, even if only for her and Satines sake.
Bo stepped around the tent and onto the quarterdeck, which turned out to be empty save for the Armorer herself. She had her back turned to her, likely watching the rocky, glistening land surrounding them. Bo didn’t doubt that despite that, the blacksmith still took notice of her approach. Yet she cleared her throat as she stepped closer to the other woman.
“You wished to speak to me?”
The Armorer simply gestured for her to come stand beside her without turning around. Bo followed, also setting her eyes on the landscape that spread out in front of them. She couldn’t see far without visor, having left her helmet next to Koska, so she turned her gaze upwards. It was Zanbar shining down on them through the dispersed clouds, Bo noted, the other moons already set or not yet risen.
Weirdly, the silence that settled upon them as each of them took in the remains of the planet they used to call home wasn’t an uncomfortable one – She felt at peace, and hoped the Armorer did as well.
“I left this planet when I was of young age. Even then, the domes of Sundari and Keldabe still untouched, I did not dare to dream of returning.”
The Armorer always spoke with such authority and determination, Bo couldn’t help but drink in every word she offered her. The bits and pieces of information the other woman offered her were rare, and felt all the more important because of it. Holy, almost.
She now turned to face Bo and continued. “The mistakes I have made in the past cannot be undone, but I believe there is redemption. For all of us."
Bo’s eyes were fixed on the black visor. It was merely the illusion of eye contact, yet it had her heart beating faster, palms turning sweaty. She cleared her throat and bowed her head.
“I appreciate the place you have offered and the trust your tribe have in me. More than I could possibly put into words, but…I don’t know if I can keep us together. Lead us.” She inhaled and jerked her head back up. “Have I not failed this planet enough times to make you question your faith in me?”
The Armorer hadn’t moved an inch, visor still fixed on Bo, who nearly choked on her words. Something about the blacksmith made her want to spill her guts, attempt to try to put into words what seemed impossible just to let her understand.
“I have been looking for ways to redeem myself ever since I left Kyr'tsad. I ruled twice and look at what remained”, she gestured vaguely around them. “Look at us. There is nothing I would rather dedicate my life to than rebuild these cities, give our people a home, but I don’t believe I should be the one leading us.”
Once again, silence stretched out, but now it felt heavy. Bo had pressed her nails into the palm of her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. She thought of Satine and pressed harder.
“I do not claim to know the burden you carry, but…”, the Armorer started before trailing off, tilting her helmet in thought. Bo became alert. She couldn’t remember ever having witnessed the other not finishing a sentence. “You are cold”, she noted.
Bo was cold. Mandalore wasn’t warm by any means, and the cold nightly wind creeping into her armor had shivers run down her spine every now and then. Yet it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before.
“If I would have known we were to spend the night above the surface and not moving I would have brought a blanket”, she attempted a weak joke. The Armorer made a noise that might have been a huff. Bo was in awe. She was so very different from her usual put together, stoic demeanor.
She was still wondering about it when the Armorer took another step forward, removing the fur that had been a part of her for as long as Bo had known her. In a swift motion, she draped it over Bo’s shoulders instead, hand lingering on it. She froze.
“My armor keeps me warm. You are not wearing a helmet, and have more use for it than I currently do”, she explained, voice soft.
Bo still couldn’t move, and just continued staring wordlessly into the black visor.
The Armorer continued. “You have been raised into war, Bo-Katan. And the only redemption you have ever considered has been by uniting and leading Mandalore into peace.” Definitely a huff now. “Our people have failed to achieve that for multiple thousands of cycles. And you’ve come close. For the second time now, haven’t you?”
“You are not as damned as you think you might be. And you do not have to carry this weight on your own. If you will let me, I will gladly carry it with you”, she ended, bowing her head. Bo knew she had to say something, do something, but her heart was racing, and she felt dizzy with want.
Before she knew what she was doing she raised her hand , and placed it underneath the Armorers chin, gently lifting her head back up, fixing her eyes onto the visor again. Bo had often thought about the others eyes, secretly wondered about their color and if they were just as intense and piercing as her voice. For a split second she considered, that maybe one day she wouldn’t have to wonder anymore.
“I would like that”, she whispered.
The Armorer inhaled sharply, raising her own hand to wrap it around the one Bo was still resting against her chin.
“I might not be able to offer you-“, she started, but was interrupted. “You’re enough. Just this is more than enough”, Bo assured her determined.
The other kept still for a while, then tilted her helmet in question. “May I..?”
Bo didn’t answer. Instead she lifted both her hands, one still intertwined with the Armorers, and carefully placed one on each side of her helmet, before slowly bringing their heads together. The beskar was cool against her skin, grounding her in the moment.
She exhaled, a giddy smile spreading across her lips. The Armorer squeezed her hand.
Minutes must have passed, Bo couldn’t be sure, when the Armorer stepped back. “I should go to inspect the wounded. Day is breaking soon”, she clarified, giving her hand another squeeze before letting go.
“Rest, Mesh’la.”
Bo watched her turn around and leave the quarterdeck, still smiling. She pulled the fur tighter around herself, closed her eyes and buried her face in it. The scent of fire and wood, pines and sweetness filled her nose, taking her back to the forge, to her.
For once, she felt at home.