Work Text:
I’m married.
Although, Mon mercifully did not need to say the words out loud while being married to Perrin, the thought itself still filled her with dread. The complete and utter failure of their relationship was something of an open secret, but she still had a certain image and career to protect, both of which sadly depended in part on maintaining the charade.
As with everything, there were good and bad days when it came to the physical aspects of their marriage. Feeling the weight of her wedding ring was reminiscent of actual chains coming second only to the feeling of Perrin roughly pawning at her on the occasions when he had been too intoxicated to seek company elsewhere. On the good days, Mon could seamlessly ignore both having had so many years to practice and perfect the skill. On some occasions, however, the Senator had found herself spiralling into despair over the ability of her parents and her home planet’s customs to continue controlling aspects of her life. She had effectively traded her happiness for an opportunity to bring a change that could lead to the happiness of others. And Mon had come to terms with that decision, she had even embraced it, but there were still moments when the personal injustice weighed in on her.
That is perhaps why finally taking the wedding ring off had felt almost like a rebirth for Mon. Once she had left Coruscant and its political shackles, shedding that last remnant of someone else’s control over her had felt like the most natural thing. There wasn’t a single aspect of her marriage to Perrin that Mon would miss and if she were completely honest with herself, the new leader of the Rebellion never imagined getting married again, certainly not after she had come to associate it with a type of prison. She was perfectly content by simply being free to stop pretending and distance herself from the institution of arranged marriages.
“I’m married!” Mon whispered with a lopsided smile, eyes shining with barely contained tears “We’re married!”
“Yes, we are.” Kleya smiled that genuine smile reserved for the very few people she had come to willingly spend time with and placed a kiss on the top of Mon’s head.
The two women were lying naked in their bed, gently holding and occasionally caressing each other. Mon’s head was resting on Kleya’s chest, limbs entangled, exhaustion finally taking over after the emotionally intense day of their informal wedding ceremony followed by hours of lovemaking.
There was one thing, or more accurately one person, Mon hadn’t factored in her prior dissection of her relationship with marriage. That person was Kleya Marki. The spy somehow managed to tear to shreds all of the carefully constructed arguments against ever getting married again Mon had come up with. And the best part was that Kleya hadn’t even been consciously trying to do so. No, the spy was simply treating Mon the way she thought the other woman deserved to be treated, with respect, compassion, consideration and utter adoration. It had taken time for both women to overcome their initial hesitation and concerns about how being in a romantic relationship could impact their work, but once they eventually chose their own happiness for a change, things between the two had flourished quickly and Mon’s thoughts on the concept of marriage had eventually changed.
Instead of associating marriage with an institution aimed to control and a draining relationship devoid of anything even remotely resembling love, Mon started considering whether it could also be a symbol of love and commitment to the person with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her days. While neither woman needed a ring or a wedding ceremony as proof of the other’s feelings, both had come to secretly relish the idea for different reasons. Mon had felt ready to begin a new chapter untainted by her previous experience and Kleya had embraced the notion of having a romantic partner in life, something she hadn’t given any thought prior to fleeing Coruscant.