Chapter Text
Mandalorian weddings were supposed to be simple affairs.
This was not the case for Ezra and Sabine’s wedding.
Maybe it was because Sabine had avoided marriage for so long, or maybe it was because Ursa was just that lavish, but the Countess chose to follow every ancient Mandalorian wedding tradition---no matter if that tradition hadn’t been practiced in centuries.
They were woken up at the crack of dawn, hurried from their separate bedrooms into separate preparation rooms with barely enough time to wave to each other in between. Breakfast was brought to them, and as Sabine endured the many complaints about how her short hair didn’t have much potential to be styled, she snacked on melons chopped into little cubes and slivers of various pastries.
Once she finished her breakfast, her cousins led her to a durasteel basin in the bathing room, steam curling above the water and colorful flower petals moving softly on the surface. They left her alone then, and Sabine lowered herself into the silky smooth water. It smelled delightful, floral oils spread throughout the water, sinking into her skin. She submerged herself briefly into the water, then slid back up just enough to poke her face above the surface.
She stayed in the bath until her skin was as wrinkly as a dried meiloorun, dried off with a fluffy white towel, and then changed into the purple silk robe her cousins had laid out. She had just tied the sash and situated the robe around her body when her cousins came back in. They took her out of the bathing room and back into the main room, settling her on a chair with a basin behind.
“We’re going to wash your hair,” said Juno. “Would you rather have rose-scented soap or lily-scented soap?”
Sabine’s mind flashed briefly to a conversation she’d had with Ezra ages ago, when he mentioned that he liked the rose perfume she had been wearing. “Rose,” she told Juno absentmindedly.
Juno set to washing Sabine's hair.
It would have been pleasant, lounging in a purple silk robe as her female cousins and aunts attended to her, but all Sabine could think about was the fact that at the end of the day, she was going to be married to Ezra. Ezra, whom she had only just realized she was in love with.
Ezra, who didn’t love her.
Yes, perhaps he still harbored that childhood crush of his. And yes, perhaps he occasionally still looked at her as if she was the brightest star in the night sky---but that was infatuation, not love.
Not what Sabine felt.
She tried to squelch down the disappointment churning in her stomach. It wasn’t fair to Ezra that she was so let down by the state of their relationship. He was her closest friend, and she should be perfectly fine with that. And she had been, for years. Their friendship had never been an issue---until now.
Water cascaded down Sabine’s head, dripping down her face in what resembled tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and ignored all of her thoughts, letting the feeling of Juno’s fingers rubbing her scalp take over her entire being.
Ezra had just endured several hours of ____ by Sabine’s uncles and male cousins---and Tristan, who had been the most amicable of the lot. They had left him alone after that for what was supposed to be a time of prayer, but Ezra was using it for meditation.
He let himself sink into the open arms of the Force, losing himself in its tumultuous currents. To him, the Force was like a roaring ocean that contained pockets of calm. Kanan described the Force as more of a desert, but Ezra liked the ocean better. So long as he kept his head aloft and found one of those areas of calm, he would be perfectly fine.
He settled into one of those pockets now, the ocean waves crashing against the invisible barrier between him and the ocean. Ezra closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Meditation was his least favorite part of being a Jedi, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t acknowledge its benefits. It had its purpose, which was to ground him.
And today, Ezra needed grounding.
He’d made the decision to marry Sabine somewhat prematurely, giving it barely more than a second of thought. Because marrying her was something he’d always hoped would be in their future, and even when the whole thing was fake, he still got a little rush thinking about how, in just a few hours, he would be able to call her his wife.
Screw your head on straight, Ezra, he told himself. She won’t really be your wife.
But still, the thought made him happier than it should.
He sank deeper into the Force. Perhaps it would provide some clarity. That was what Kanan always listed as one of the benefits of meditation. So Ezra reached out to the waves around him and asked into the void: What should I do?
It didn’t give him a concrete answer, which was to be expected. But the Light brushed against Ezra’s mind in a whisper of reassurance. The current pushed him forward, guiding him into the vast depths of the Force. Ezra swam deep until he found another pocket of safety and nestled inside. The Force enveloped him immediately and murmured unintelligible words into Ezra’s ears. He couldn’t make anything out---and he didn’t think that was the Force’s intention---but he did get the general sense that the Force was telling him to be brave.
“Be brave,” whispered Ezra to himself. The words echoed all around him.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
It could mean anything, being brave. But Ezra had the feeling that the words were meant specifically for this situation with Sabine. Perhaps . . . perhaps the Force was telling him to be honest, to confess. That would certainly be the brave thing to do, though Ezra didn’t like it.
Be brave . The words were louder, more insistent, as if the Force itself was actually coming out and saying them, rather than the echo of Ezra’s own voice.
Well, then. Ezra supposed he had some thinking to do.
Sabine approached the greenhouse with trepidation. She had spent the past few hours pacing her chambers in her wedding gown, wondering if this was perhaps not the smartest of decisions. She hadn’t been able to eat much lunch, and she hadn’t touched the snack Juno brought in during the late afternoon. Then sunset came all too soon---the sun fell early on Krownest---which meant Sabine had to meet Ezra so they could say the Riduurok to each other.
This part of the wedding, the part where they promised themselves to each other, was a private ceremony. The bride and groom were supposed to discuss any last-minute hesitation, then say their vows and emerge as husband and wife. Then they would feast until late into the night with the entire wedding party, which typically consisted of both the immediate and extended families of the bride and groom.
Sabine was grateful for the private nature of this portion of the wedding, but she was also nervous, for a plethora of reasons, most of which boiled down to: I love Ezra but he doesn’t love me.
That was her only hesitation in this whole thing. She wanted to marry Ezra, but she didn’t think he wanted to marry her, and she didn’t want to force him into anything.
“Nervous?” asked Ursa from behind Sabine.
Sabine nodded.
Ursa stepped forward and placed a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “Don’t be. If you two truly love each other---and I believe you do---then there is nothing to fear.”
If only that were true.
Sabine accepted the words anyway, smiling tightly at her mother before entering the greenhouse. It was a beautiful building, with thick panes of one-sided glass set between intricately wrought durasteel frames. The metalwork reached up several stories, all of which were lush with greenery that thrived in the controlled atmosphere of the greenhouse.
But Sabine wasn’t here to admire the several varieties of tomatoes growing in their pots. She crossed the first portion of the greenhouse and entered the second, a large pond that contained stone pathways raised only a little ways up from the water. Brightly-colored koi fish swam throughout the water, passing under lily pads and through little stone tunnels submerged in the pond.
Ezra was waiting for her, sitting on a stone-wrought bench. He had a pebble in hand and was using the Force to spin it lazily in front of him. When he saw Sabine, he dropped the pebble back into his palm.
Sabine clasped her hands together and sat down beside him, making sure not to crumple the off-white skirt of her gown. She hadn’t had much of a say in the design, but she liked it anyway; it was simple, with a corset top that dipped into a v-neck that exposed nothing, and a sleek, silk skirt.
Ezra was wearing his signature orange, but he managed to look distinguished instead of silly. His dress shirt was embroidered with silver, and there was a blue sash around his waist. He looked almost Mandalorian---the only thing that took away from the disguise was the lightsaber at his hip.
“I hope your day went well,” said Sabine.
“It did, thank you,” said Ezra.
Sabine dipped her head. They fell into an uncomfortable silence. All Sabine could hear was the sound of the fish slicing through the water, and the faint conversation from the field where the wedding feast was to take place. She fiddled with the jewels dangling from the intricate silver bracelet on her wrist. Beside her, with his face pointed to a lilypad floating in the water, Ezra rolled the smooth pebble over in his hands. Taking a deep breath, Sabine turned to face Ezra, and, as if he somehow sensed her movement, he did the same.
“We should talk,” said Sabine.
Ezra gave her a solemn nod, inviting her to go first.
She swallowed. “I don’t want to force you into anything, Ezra. We didn’t anticipate marriage when we made this plan. It’s not fair to make you marry me just so that I can prove something to my mother. If you want, we can call it off---the whole thing.”
Ezra looked at her for several long seconds, deep blue eyes going soft and kind. “Are you sure?” he asked.
No, no, she wasn’t. She did want to marry him. But the idea of forcing Ezra into anything made her feel sick, so she nodded anyway.
Ezra cocked his head. “You know,” he said, “one of the nice things about the Force is that I can tell when people are lying.”
Oh, kriff. Sabine opened her mouth to explain, but Ezra cut her off gently. “You don’t need to talk,” he said. “Just---listen. Please.”
Sabine nodded.
Ezra twisted his fingers. “I think you know that, back when we first met, I had a stupid little crush on you. It was dumb, childish, and kept us from becoming good friends. So I pushed it away and ignored it.” His face began to turn red. “But the thing about feelings is that they never really go away. You can ignore them all you want, but they just continue to grow, and to fester, until at some point, you have to acknowledge them.” He took a deep breath. “That’s what happened, I guess. Those feelings, the ones I tried to stuff down, came roaring back stronger than before. You’re brilliant, and you’re kind, and you’re so funny and so, so beautiful---Sabine, you’re my favorite person. It was only a matter of time, I guess, though I wouldn’t describe the feelings as a crush anymore. There’s a word I would use but I think you would get angry with me, so I’m not going to say it, but---”
“Love,” whispered Sabine.
Ezra’s head jerked up. His face was a brilliant shade of red.
“You love me,” said Sabine, shock coursing through her.
Ezra gazed into her eyes for a long moment, then ducked his head in a nod. “Yeah, yeah, I do.” He tossed the pebble he had been holding into the koi pond, sending it into the water with a soft splash. He kept his gaze resolutely away from Sabine.
A smile spread across Sabine’s face. “You love me,” she repeated. A little giggle escaped her mouth, and Ezra looked up, confusion evident on his features. “You actually---you actually love me.”
“I think we’ve established that,” murmured Ezra.
Sabine turned to him, her smile widening. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “Do you really? You promise?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”
“All this time,” said Sabine, “all this time I’ve spent worrying about whether or not you thought of me as more than a friend, and now---” She couldn’t help the giddy smile from taking over every inch of her features. “Ezra . . .”
He smiled sadly, still looking at the ground. “I’m sorry.”
The response took Sabine by surprise. She frowned, then seeing that Ezra thought she was somehow making fun of him, she grabbed his hands and forced him to look at her. She dropped his hands, then cupped her palms against his cheeks. “Ezra Bridger,” she said firmly, unable to keep herself from grinning once more, “don’t be sorry. That was the best thing anyone could have told me.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Ezra . . . oh, manda, I don't know how you did this.” She blinked several times to gather herself. “Ezra Bridger, I love you.”
He went very, very still. “I’m sorry, what?”
She leaned in closer. “Ezra, you are the single most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You’re generous, and you’re compassionate. You’re smart and brave and charming, and somehow you stopped being ugly and started being, well, handsome, I suppose.” She moved so her forehead hovered right beside his, the ghost of a Keldabe kiss. “I love you, Ezra. I didn’t realize it until this week, but I love you so, so much, and I don’t want to let you go.”
“Then don’t,” he breathed, and he pressed his forehead against hers. Sabine closed her eyes, drinking in his presence. They had shared several kisses over the past few days, but none felt as intimate as this, this kiss her people had created to signify the bond of love between two people.
They stayed like that for a long time, eyes closed, silent, listening to the sound of each other’s heart beating in tandem. Sabine was the first to pull back, offering Ezra a shy smile. He returned to the expression, curling his fingers around hers.
“I suppose this means the wedding is back on,” he said.
“Maybe,” said Sabine, “if you ask me properly.”
Ezra laughed, then lowered himself to one knee, keeping his hold on Sabine’s hand. “Sabine Wren, future Countess of Clan Wren, will you do me the incredible honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
Sabine bent at the waist and bumped her nose against Ezra’s. “Of course I accept,” she said, then pressed her lips to his.
They spoke the Riduurok not long after, Sabine saying the words as surely as if they were her own name, Ezra stumbling over the pronunciation but speaking them proudly nonetheless. After sharing one last kiss in the privacy of the greenhouse, Sabine hooked her arm around Ezra’s and followed him into the dusklight, where her family was waiting.
Flower petals were thrown at the couple, covering Sabine in a shower of soft purple. Ezra plucked several petals out of her hair, beaming at her every time their eyes met. The feast was fantastic, loud voices congratulating the couple at every turn, countless dishes set before them as they ate side-by-side, hands held underneath the table---for real this time.
When the night came to a close, stars twinkling merrily in the sky, Ursa approached Sabine and Ezra, who were sitting by themselves on a bench and laughing together about how Sabine’s Great-Aunt Sarti asked when they were going to have their first child. Great-Aunt Sarti was oddly invested in Sabine’s love life---probably because she’d never had one of her own.
“You two seem happy,” said Ursa, taking a seat beside Sabine.
Sabine’s expression turned from joyous to apprehensive. “Well, we did just get married,” she said.
“Right,” said Ursa with a knowing smile. “And I couldn’t be happier myself.”
Sabine’s eyes widened with shock. “Really?”
Ursa nodded. “I know I haven’t always been the most supportive of you, my dear, but it does warm my heart to see you in love. I’ll send my prayers for a lifetime of happiness for the two of you.”
“So it doesn’t bother you that Ezra is a Jedi?” asked Sabine.
“Jedi or not,” said Ursa, “Ezra is a good man. Besides---” She leaned closer to Sabine and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I heard sometime in my youth that jetti are passionate lovers.”
Sabine’s face grew hot. “ Mother ,” she hissed.
Ursa laughed. “Don’t worry. I do not expect you to produce any heirs too soon. Enjoy your marriage before you have any children---that’s my advice.”
“You’re just saying that because you conceived me on your wedding night,” said Sabine. She turned to Ezra. “I was born almost exactly nine months after the day of their wedding. She’s always been bitter about that, said I was too eager to come into the world.”
“Well, I’m glad,” said Ezra.
Sabine smiled.
Ursa left them alone after that, and they set to talking again, recounting the day’s events. When music began to play from somewhere in the distance, loud enough to hear but faint enough not to bother, the two stood, and began to dance a slow Mandalorian waltz. It was one of the few slow dances in Mandalorian culture; faster ones were preferred and performed most often. But Ezra and Sabine were more than happy to sway together slowly to the gentle strains of the music, Sabine leaning against Ezra as his arms held her close.
And when they spoke later, lying side-by-side in bed with the blankets wrapped tight around their frames, the only things they said were in whispers, soft and sweet.
Because Mandalorians might have believed in brash declarations of love and conquests done in romance’s name, but Ezra and Sabine were content with something subtler, something gentle and kind. Which was why the only thing said louder than a sweet whisper was:
“How are we going to tell Kanan and Hera?”
Some art I drew to go along with this chapter.
