Ask Sundered Nests

[Song Wren]

“I look soft?” Song cocked an eyebrow. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

She found it hard not to burst out laughing. Of course she’d caught Kanan staring, but she didn’t bother trying to stop him. She ought to have been ashamed, but his reactions were priceless. There was no denying how much she enjoyed seeing his cheeks turn red, or how quick he went from ‘hardened soldier’ to ‘awkward bachelor.’ It was honestly hard to believe that they were a Mandalorian and a Sector Ranger. Like Jedi and Sith, they stood at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Or perhaps, two sides of the same coin.

Song shook her head, but if one looked closely enough, they might see that she was actually blushing. Unfortunately, the blood in her cheeks melted away as she refocused back onto the matter at hand—their survival. They had to be meticulous. Ready. And more importantly, she had to let Kanan know that whatever happened tomorrow, there could be no acts of stupid bravery. No daring ideas. No heroic sacrifices.

“You chose to come here,” Song replied after him, “but I don’t think you came here to die, Kanan.” She shifted uncomfortably among the pile of furs. “If things go south, if the worst happens, you have to do whatever it takes to get out alive. Don’t worry about me. Don’t even think about me. I know what I said earlier, but if we die, your death is a burden that I don’t think I could bear into the next life. So, just promise me you’ll survive.” The look in her eyes hardened to ice. “Okay?”

This was probably the hundredth time she’d had this conversation with him, but right now, she was more serious than ever. The risk of death was frighteningly real. Song lov—no, she respected—Kanan. She appreciated everything he’d done for her up to this very moment, and she refused to let him throw his life away so that she could earn her clan’s approval. To make her father proud. It was a ridiculous gamble she was unwilling to make.

“There’s a life waiting for you outside of Krownest,” she continued. “The Sector Rangers, the Free Worlds Alliance. Friends and family, maybe—if you have any left.” She glanced at him uneasily. “As for me? My life is bound here, to this icy wasteland, and to my father and the rest of Clan Wren. This will be where I live and die, Kanan.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

For a brief, passing moment Kanan wondered if he wasn't the only one with the misfortune to blush. Color began to rise in Song's cheeks, or so he thought. It was gone almost immediately, nothing more than the light from the fire playing tricks on him. More wishful thinking.

"I don't think either of us came here to die," he answered, already prepared for the words that would follow.

Song had had this conversation with him a dozen times already, and yet she never managed to change his mind on the issue. No matter what she said, no matter how many times she would repeat herself, it would not make a difference. It was touching, and each time she expressed her concern over his wellbeing he wanted to drink it in and remember that feeling forever. But he knew what he needed to do.

It was his choice to be here, to be by her side. It was a choice he'd made over and over, and he was well aware of the possible consequences that choice carried. They both were. They'd laid their lives on the line for one another before, and nothing was going to stop them from doing it again.

Kanan couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at what she was asking him to do. Moving closer, he settled beside her and smiled at her. "But you know full well I'm not going to just abandon you. How can I not worry about you? And how can I not think about you, especially when I know you're in danger? I think about you all the time."

That was probably information best kept to himself, but he rolled it off and continued. If he'd learned anything over the last few minutes of bumbling, it was to divert attention and move onto something else.

"I'd die before I'd let anything happen to you. Gladly. And it would be my choice." Kanan did not know what laid beyond this life and this galaxy, and he didn't yet fully grasp how he felt about Song, but he did know that he would never be able to live with himself if something happened to her. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach.

Growing very still and serious, he admitted just as much to himself as to her, "Song, it would destroy me if I lost you."

Kanan had no intention of abandoning the Sector Rangers and his sworn duty, nor did he have any intention of abandoning Song. As far as he was concerned, they were both fixtures of his life.

As for his family, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen them. Two, maybe three years ago. He had set out on his own as a teenager, intent to make his own life for himself. His father had passed away years ago, and his mother was well taken care of by his older brother and younger sister, both of whom still lived on Yavin 4. He visited them whenever he could, but it had never been his intention to return to that life. The family he had made for himself—Jania and the baby— they were gone now. All he had left was the Sector Rangers, and he expected nothing more to come his way. Until Song entered his life.

He would've reached for her hand to hold, but it was buried beneath the white pelt along with the rest of her, and he was not about to go searching for it. So instead, he raised a hand to her cheek. Cupping the soft, pale skin he'd wanted to touch from the moment he first saw her, he silently hoped that his rough and calloused hands would not agitate or harm.

Staring down into her dark, endless eyes he said, "Perhaps you will live and die here, but that does not mean you will die tomorrow. And that does not mean you will live and die alone."

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

It would destroy me if I lost you.

Song flushed a bright scarlet. There was a tenderness, a warmth in his words, that made her feel hot underneath the fur cloak draped over her shoulders, but nothing could have prepared her for his touch. The feeling of his hand brushing against her cheek. But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t smack his hand aside. Instead, Song leaned into his palm and smiled, as if treasuring this moment like it would be the last. Maybe it would. But right now, nothing else mattered except for him.

She looked up at him. His eyes were like spring, the color of every pine and cedar tree in the forest, made all the richer by the quiet glow of the fire. And in the drowsy light, Kanan looked less like a brooding Sector Ranger—the one she’d met back in that alley—and more like a handsome stranger in desperate need of kissing. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to fall into those eyes.

Instead, Song, the Mandalorian, stayed on the edge. She lifted her hand and, taking his, lowered it from her cheek. “You are unbearably naive, Kanan Marek.” She laughed. “And unbelievably stubborn. You would make a good Mandalorian.” Slowly, her hand slipped away from his. “Even if you aren’t.”

Song couldn’t deny the feelings she had toward him, and yet, she knew the dangers that would come with it. She thought of her mother, Haliya, and her brother, River. Both were buried somewhere in the permafrost, ashes scattered to the mountains. Everyone I love dies, she wanted to say. The galaxy was cruel, and to it, her life was like something of a cruel joke. What might happen to Kanan next? Worse, what if she were to love him, only to lose him a day, a week, or a month later? After a loss like that, there would be no life worth having anymore.

There was the responsibility she owed to Clan Wren, too.

Song let out an exasperated breath and curled up on her side, burrowing as close as she could get to the fire. Trying to steer the conversation back to tomorrow, she said, “If this is what you want to do—if fighting and dying here is your choice—then I won’t stop you.” She only wished he’d taken her promise. Couldn’t he see that she was tired of losing those closest to her? Couldn’t he see she was trying to keep him alive? Why did he have to be so stubborn?

She closed her eyes. “I just can’t believe your stupid face might be the last thing I see before I die.” She opened one eye toward him. “Sorry—we.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan was unable to contain the grin that spread across his face when Song didn't pull away from his touch. Instead, she leaned into his hand, as if she actually enjoyed the feeling. Their shared elation was short-lived, however, as she removed his hand and let it go. When she laughed, the sound bounced off the walls of the cave and turned his blood cold. There was nothing he delighted in more than the sound of her laugh, but the words that followed made that nearly impossible.

Anyone else might have regretted touching her cheek with the knowledge of what followed, but he couldn't bring himself to. Her skin was even softer and gentler than it looked, and one touch alone was enough to convince him that she was easily the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy. Given the opportunity, he would have touched her cheek again. He was just that naïve.

Was he angry at her? One glance in her direction told him the answer was no. He had no right to be angry with her. He was angry with himself for allowing his emotions to blind his common sense.

Kanan watched as Song curled into a ball and faced the warmth of the fire, ready for sleep to take her and for the sun to shine on them once again. Watching her only solidified the desire, the need to keep her safe. To protect her no matter the cost.

He wanted to lean down and brush a lock of her long, dark hair away from her face. He wanted to press hips lips to her forehead and tell her goodnight, but since when did he get what he wanted?

Before he had met Song, his life was predictable and settled. The Sector Rangers, his job—it was his life. It had its exciting moments, and he wouldn't have given it up for anything, but the real life he'd wanted was long gone. He'd watched it die over ten years ago on a dirty Coruscant sidewalk.

Resignation had not come easily, but in the end Kanan had surrendered his hopes for the future and resigned himself to the lonely life of a Sector Ranger. Some people were destined to travel through this galaxy alone, and he believed he was one of them.

Inevitably there would come a day when in a single moment Kanan wouldn't act quickly enough, or he'd make the wrong call, or he'd put his trust in the wrong person, and he would be dead at the hands of some ne'er-do-well. He expected nothing less than this, and it had been many years since he'd asked for anything more.

Until Song.

Now the desire to not live and die alone was stronger than ever. He didn't want to be alone anymore, and he couldn't picture a life without her. A life without Song would be unbearable, insufferable—a fate worse than death.

What he felt—it wasn't merely attraction. How could it be when she was buried beneath that armor the majority of the time?

He cared for her. Deeply. He could admit that to himself now.

But Song was a Mandalorian, the daughter of Ghent Wren, the Count of Clan Wren. She had duties, responsibilities. Ghent Wren was not only a strict Count but a strict father. Song was expected to help lead Clan Wren, to ensure their future and their welfare. It was her duty.

If she was to care for someone, it would undoubtedly be another Mandalorian. Someone like her that she could share her life with, not some ranger who'd spent his whole life bouncing from one planet to the next. No matter how intent he was on helping Song, Kanan would never be a Mandalorian. He'd always be a Sector Ranger.

Jania was dead, and he'd never forgiven himself for not being there that day to defend her. What if he failed to protect Song too? She deserved someone who would never let her down. It would destroy Kanan to lose her, let alone be the one responsible.

“I just can’t believe your stupid face might be the last thing I see before I die.”

Retreating to the space across the fire from her to allow her more room, he chuckled at the comment. "Try not to die then, won't you?"

Kanan offered her a pensive but sincere smile, watching her get comfortable for the night. Perhaps matters would be clearer in the light of day.

In the meantime, he would try to content himself with being near her and endeavor to love her less.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song smiled back at him. “Same to you, Ranger.”

She wanted to stay and talk. Maybe exchange a story, or sing a drinking song to soothe their rattled nerves, but she was way too exhausted to continue the conversation. Instead she lay her head against a warm pelt, wet hair pressed into the strip of fur, and shut her eyes. After running miles through a blistering snowstorm and nearly dying in a ship crash, she had every right to be tired. She only hoped Kanan would be able to catch some sleep, too. They both had a long day ahead of them.

Song thought to say goodnight or demand he get some rest, but she was already drifting once she had settled into the makeshift cot. Next thing she knew, she was slipping into the dark.

---​

She didn’t dream that night. There was no strange omen to greet her, no sign of her mother, or River, or even Kanan. It was like she’d been knocked out, and by the time she woke, Song was welcomed only with a splitting headache.

She blinked at a ray of light peeking into the cavern. Immediately she began to panic, hand reaching for her blaster, fearing that they’d been discovered, but a moment later, she realized it was only the morning sun. Dawn had finally arrived. The worst of the storm had cleared, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the winter birds in the trees. They’d survived the night. The fire was nearly out though, burning on fumes, and all that remained of it was a pile of grey ash and blackened wood.

On the other side, Kanan was waiting.

Song pushed out of the reindeer cloak to face him before remembering she hadn’t any clothes on. She was about to snap at him to look away, but realized he was asleep, his eyes closed shut. She sighed. He hadn’t woken her up to take the second watch. Kanan, you big idiot, she thought. Had he stayed up through the night alone? She wanted to smack him.

And hug him, too. It’d been too long since she had any real sleep.

When Song made sure he really wasn't awake, though, she quickly slipped back into her dried, thermal undersuit. She donned her armor next, taking her sweet time, knowing that every second she wasted was another second Kanan could rest. And once she was finished, leaving her helmet on the floor, the Mandalorian crept toward him and knelt by his side.

“Hey, mir’osik,” she whispered, then flicked his forehead. “Have you died on me already?”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Mir'osik.

"I don't know what that means, but I have a feeling it isn't a compliment."

Kanan opened one eye and then the next, gradually adjusting to the light of day streaming into the cave. His tired eyes focused on Song, instantly smiling at the sight of her. Knelt down next to him with the early morning sun on her hair, he had to wonder if he was still sleeping.

She didn't look real— more like a painting or a dream, and yet she was flesh and blood. Somehow. The ranger could reach out and touch her if he wanted to, and he did want to. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and fall back asleep with his arm around her.

Waking up to Song's face was the best thing that had happened to him since... well, since he'd touched her face last night.

The Mandalorian had already dawned her armor and was ready for the day that lie ahead of them. All she was waiting on now was him.

"I'm sorry," he yawned at the realization, rubbing his left eye as he sat up straight. "I must have fallen asleep."

He reached for the rifle beside him and slung it over his shoulders, still trying to wake up even as he stood to stretch. "Well, we made it through the night. Maybe that's a sign of good things to come?"

Running his boot across the floor of the cave, he kicked some dirt over the remains of their fire and doused the dying embers before picking up Song's helmet. Gingerly tossing it to her, he said, "Here. You'll probably need this."

Once they had determined that no one lurked outside of the cave waiting to jump them the moment their backs were turned, the two of them walked into the light of day, side by side. The snowfall had covered their tracks from the night before, but neither of them found it difficult to retrace their steps.

The duo walked in silence for the longest time, the continuous crunch of their boots in the ankle deep snow and the early morning songs of birds the only sounds that accompanied them until Kanan broke the silence.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at Song as if seeking her approval, but his tone implied that it was not up for discussion or debate "As soon as we have a visual on the wreckage, I'll head in to send out the distress signal while you find cover and get into position. Let's just hope the beacon's still operational or we'll really be stranded out here."

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“It means ‘dung for brains,’ if that helps.” Song grinned. She enjoyed teasing the Ranger, even when they were facing death’s door. She found it helped to lighten the mood.

“Don’t apologize for trying to sleep. I dropped dead on you last night without a word. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.” It was the truth. Song had fallen asleep without so much as suggesting who would be taking watch, so if there was someone to blame, it would be her. Fortunately, Kanan didn’t seem to care either way. Instead he climbed to his feet, smothered what was left of the fire, and tossed her helmet from across the cave. Song caught it effortlessly.

“Thanks,” she said, before slipping it onto her shoulders—slowly though, as if hoping to get one last good look at the Ranger. It could possibly be the last.

Song followed him outside the cave next, and once the coast was clear, they trekked out into the forest, checking the sky and trees for rebel scouts. There was nothing but the sound of nesting birds. It wasn’t until they were halfway to the ship that Kanan spoke, and in a tone that the Mandalorian knew wasn’t welcome.

She wanted to turn and smack him upside the head. Instead, Song spun on her heels to face him, visor glinting in the drowsy morning light, and said, “Absolutely not. There’s no telling what might be waiting in that ship, and I’m much better at close quarters combat than you are.” Now, that wasn’t exactly true. She still remembered the way he fought back in that rundown alley, and at the time, they were equally matched. The only difference was that Song was far more experienced with a knife.

“Besides, the ship is mine. I can find the distress beacon easily. My jetpack might still be in there too, and if I can grab it, I can fly out and meet you in the trees.” It was a steep risk, but Song would have rather she be the one to deal with it and not Kanan. Although she’d given up on their argument last night, she hadn’t forgotten, and she would fight him at every turn if he meant to throw his life on the line.

Song didn’t bother waiting for his response. She jabbed a finger at him and said, “Sound like a plan? Good.” And with that, she stalked away, continuing their long march through the snow and toward the remains of their ship.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan set his jaw.

Of course Song wasn't going to just go along with his plan. Of course she had to insist that she be the one to enter the ship's wreckage and activate the distress beacon. Kanan had come to expect nothing less from the Mandalorian, and usually he found her hard head and stubborn attitude more than a little bit endearing and attractive, and yet at the moment nothing infuriated him more.

Couldn't she just take mercy on his nerves for once and not throw herself headfirst into danger? Didn't she realize that he couldn't risk losing her?

It didn't matter. The Sector Ranger would not allow Song to have the final word on this matter, and he wouldn't allow her to stalk away into the forest. He might have given in on Felucia and allowed her to enter the acklay invested caves on her own, but he wasn't going to wait on the sidelines and just hope she made it out in one piece while she risked her life.

Not this time.

"No, not good," he shot back, grabbing ahold of her wrist to prevent her from taking another step. If she expected to get her way by stalking off into the forest, she was sorely mistaken. Staring down into the visor of her helmet, his gaze was unwavering. "You can tell me just as easily where the distress beacon is or I can find it myself. Believe it or not, I do know my way around a ship. Give me a little credit."

He pulled her closer. "And flying out of the wreckage with a jet pack? Don't you think that will call a lot of unnecessary attention to yourself? It'll lead them right to you—right to our vantage spot. I can duck out of the ship and lose them in the forest. Much safer."

Claiming his method of escape was "safer" was perhaps a bit of a stretch, but he wasn't about to admit that, and he wasn't about to back down.

"I'm not going to just let you wander into that wreckage like a sitting duck. And since when have you been better in close quarter combat?" he added. "Serenno was a draw, and the only reason you were able to get away from me is because you shot me!"

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“I could shoot you again if you’d like.”

She put a hand on her hip, dangerously close to where her blaster holster was attached. But they both knew she wouldn’t make such a move. Tempted as Song was, the last thing she wanted was to lose another pair of hands, and worse, the trust of her closest ally, friend. Confidant. They’d already come so far together. To leave him stranded in the forest again, especially on a world like Krownest, would be unbelievably cruel.

She loved Kanan too much for that.

After staring him down for a long minute, Song begrudgingly lifted her hand away from her blaster. She sighed, shaking her head like a mother would to a disobedient child, and slipped out of his grip. “Fine, search the ship. It’s all yours. Just don’t come crawling to me when there’s a pack of wolves nesting in the cockpit.” She marched away from him, but before she could disappear, stopped short. The pines swayed in the breeze. Winter birds sang unaware.

She didn’t want to part ways with him like this. She couldn’t.

Song cursed under her breath, then turned back to face the Ranger. She snatched one of the knives up her sleeve—her lucky blade, Talon—and handed it over to him. “Take it,” she said. “The distress beacon should be in the compartment under the dashboard. Just grab it and go. Don’t stop for anything else.” She looked at him, and even with her helmet on, Kanan could probably sense the worry in her eyes. “And please, be careful.”

She wanted to hug him, kiss him, do anything to make him understand how desperately she needed him alive, but like every other instance, the Mandalorian only turned and kept walking. They were close to the ship now, and time was of the essence.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Perhaps back on Chandrila Kanan would have believed her threat, but not now. Not on Krownest. She wouldn't shoot him this time, if only because she needed him. Two hands were always better in a fight, particularly when that fight involved an undisclosed number of highly skilled Mandalorian warriors.

The ranger was surprised, however, when Song lowered her hand from the blaster strapped to her side, muttering "fine." Kanan blinked once or twice, almost unsure if he'd heart her right. This was—quite possibly— the first time he'd won an argument with her, and if they weren't about to possibly die he would have taken a moment to savor the victory.

Perhaps he would have gloated even, if it weren't for the blade Song handed him the very next moment. Turning the blade over in his hands, he realized that it was more than just a knife. It was symbolic of something much more. It meant something to the Mandalorian, so therefor it meant something to the ranger.

He offered Song an acknowledging smile and said, "You're much better with knives than I am, but... thank you. I'll make sure it's returned safely to its owner."

The gesture meant a great deal to him, but he would say nothing more about it as he slipped the blade up his sleeve, and the two of them walked on. It wasn't long until it was time for them to part ways, and he turned toward the Mandalorian once more.

Echoing the same sentiment she had voiced only moments earlier, he said, "Be careful. And don't do anything too stupid until I get back."

The last part was meant to lighten the mood, but somehow it didn't. While the Mandalorian searched for a vantage spot, Kanan moved toward the wreckage of the ship, his rifle in his hands. His stomach filled with worry for Song as each step took him farther away from her, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that it was not her entering the wreckage of the ship.

Stepping through the hole that had been blown into the ship's siding, the ranger looked around. With the smoke cleared, he could actually see what was left of the crash and of the subsequent search. Snow covered much of the interior, and the furniture had been thrown around. Anxious to see the results of their handiwork, the Mandalorians had conducted a very thorough search. They must have been disappointed when no bodies could be found amongst the wreckage.

Kanan moved toward the cockpit, the metal beneath his feet creaking with every step. He opened the compartment under the dashboard and retrieved the distress beacon, exactly where Song said it would be.

The metal flooring continued to creak behind him, and he turned to investigate the source. Face to face with a large gray wolf, he couldn't help but sigh.

Why did she have to be right about the wolf?

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“It better be returned without so much a scratch too,” Song warned, jabbing a finger his way. “Else you may find yourself wishing you’d cut your own heart out instead.” Her voice was stoic, but it was obvious she was joking. Should things fare well, and the rest of Clan Wren arrive in time, she would likely have him keep it. Talon was one of her prized treasures—a knife she’d carried since her fourteenth birthday, when her mother had it fashioned out of cedarwood and obsidian—but she would rather it stay in Kanan’s company.

At least, with him, it might find better use than in drawing the blood of an enemy.

As he cracked a joke before they parted ways, Song could only laugh and grin. “Come on, Kanan. You should already know this by now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” She’d joined him in trying to lighten the mood, but still, a tension hung in the air, an unspoken understanding. Either one of them could die today. Even if the distress beacon was activated, there was a slim chance her father would learn of it and come to their rescue in time. Right now, they were alone.

While Kanan approached the ship’s wreckage, Song searched for a vantage point in the trees. It was higher ground, but probably not far enough for Kanan’s liking. But why did she care? Last thing she wanted was to head out too far, or somewhere the Ranger couldn’t reach in time. The moment he found and triggered the beacon, the rebels would be alerted to their presence, and know the two of them had come back. If they hoped to survive together, they would need to fight together.

Song let out a worried breath. “Please,” she prayed, to no one in particular. “Protect Kanan.” But the universe, always cruel and unjust, had something else in mind. In the belly of the ship, the wolf had cornered the Ranger, but it was not alone. Wolves never traveled alone. Not unless in a pack… or with a master.

Another figure emerged from behind the seemingly wild animal, running a gloved hand through its fur, as if petting it. In response, the wolf stopped growling and took to studying Kanan, ready to pounce on him at a single command. As for its owner? They approached the Ranger, disguised by the shadows, until they were fully in the light that poured through the cockpit’s broken windshield. It was a Mandalorian.

“You must be the Sector Ranger,” they said, voice low and baritone through their painted helmet. “Welcome to Krownest.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

The wolf's master emerged from the shadows, running their hand through the wolf's thick and matted fur.

Kanan's first instinct was to raise his rifle toward the Mandalorian, but he did not dare. The wolf was ready to pounce at any second, and one wrong move on the ranger's part would be all the motivation it needed to sink its fangs into his neck and tear him to pieces. Against a wolf and a Mandalorian, Kanan didn't stand a chance. Particularly in close quarters with only one way in and one way out.

He would need to play it smart if he wanted to make it out of this alive.

The Mandalorian's voice was low and hard, as if it belonged to a man. But Kanan had been fooled by appearances once before and would not form an opinion so easily this time. Not until he had all the facts. Beneath a helmet and beskar armor so concealing, the Mandalorian that stood before him now could just as easily have been a woman.

Call it a gut feeling, but something told Kanan that this Mandalorian was not with the group of rebels that had shot them down yesterday. At the very least, this Mandalorian was different than he rest of the group. This Mandalorian was motivated by something that ran deeper than simply revenge against the daughter of Count Wren. Unlike the rebels that had taken Song and Kanan by surprise the day before, this Mandalorian did not shoot first and ask questions later.

They wanted to talk, at least for the time being. The ranger was aware that that could change any given moment, and his thoughts turned to the blade Song had given him. Concealed beneath his sleeve, perhaps he would be able to take the Mandalorian by surprise if it came to that.

"I am," Kanan answered, the distress beacon clutched behind his back. For whatever reason, he had yet to activate it. The moment the beacon was activated, rebels would surround the wreckage, and there would be no turning back. No second chances.

Trapped inside the wreckage with a Mandalorian and their pet wolf between him and the one and only way out of the ship, Kanan would be unable to defend against the onslaught of rebels. More importantly, he would be unable to get back to Song and defend her. Not that Song Wren had ever needed defending, but he couldn't deny the protective instinct that arose within him at the thought of her out there alone and outnumbered.

"You know who I am, but I don't know who you are..." He tilted his head. "Who are you?"

Perhaps what do you want? or get out of my way would have been a more fitting response given the circumstances, but Kanan was curious. This Mandalorian intrigued him.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Does it matter?” said the Mandalorian. “I am from Clan Wren. The true Clan Wren. Not the one ruled by your master, Ghent.” The Mandalorian circled the cockpit, tracing a gloved finger over the snow-covered dashboard, as he neared Kanan. “I’m sure he’s told you plenty about me—about us. That we are rebels. Traitors to the Creed and to Mandalore. But that could not be further from the truth.”

“Did he tell you that the last Count was killed on a hunting expedition? That he died by natural causes? That it was an accident?” The mysterious man tilted his head, but he didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “Ghent has deceived you, as he does the rest of Clan Wren. Because he murdered the last Count. He left him to rot in the snow with a knife in his back. And in doing so, he inherited his position and his throne.”

The wolf growled, as if understanding what the Mandalorian was saying. “When I discovered this, he tried to have me killed, too. So, with a handful of loyalists, I rebelled. For years we have resisted him, and in turn, he has sent many of his men—and paid mercenaries—to root us out.” The man folded his arms over his plated chest. “Now, he sends you, a Sector Ranger, and another one of his brainwashed soldiers.”

The Mandalorian stared out of the cockpit windshield and toward white underbrush. “Did you not think I don’t know about the female Mandalorian you’ve come with? The one hidden in the trees?” He shook his head, voice dripping with disappointment. “We knew the two of you would return to fetch the distress beacon. And now that you are here, we can finally finish what we started.” The Mandalorian pulled out a long obsidian knife, its black edge glinting in the low light of the cabin.

---​

Meanwhile, outside, Song lay prone in the snow, disguised among the trees. She had been counting the seconds waiting for Kanan to emerge from the wreckage—fifty-six, fifty-seven—and the longer he took, the more worried she got. He’d promised not to get lost, so why was he taking his sweet time retrieving the beacon? She knew she should have gone instead of him.

She sighed, just as a twig behind her snapped.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

It didn't take any stretch of the imagination to picture Ghent Wren knee deep in snow, stabbing his brother in the back and claiming the throne of Wren for himself. The brother of the then Count, he was the natural successor. The only thing standing in his way of power, of total control over Clan Wren—was his brother.

History was full of successions that had come at the end of a blade or a blaster. It had happened before, and it would happen again so long as the galaxy was full of greed and envy, neither of which would be going away any time soon. Mandalorians were no exception.

Ghent Wren was a difficult man, a man hardened by time and the cold and by decades of raining. Was he a murderer? The life of a Mandalorian was not an easy path to walk, so the answer was almost surely yes, but would he murder his own brother? In cold blood? In the back—like a coward? Was he capable of such an act?

Kanan couldn't be certain, but something in his gut told him the answer was yes. The ranger had only met the Mandalorian Count recently, and they had spent very little time together. He had taken an immediate disliking to the Count, but that alone was not enough to convict the man. It was impossible to claim a total understanding as to the nature of his character, but still... Kanan had a feeling.

A feeling that this Mandalorian was telling the truth.

While the Mandalorian circled the cockpit, Kanan slowly inched his way closer to the doorway. He couldn't escape just yet, not with the wolf still blocking the only exit, but at the very least he was closer.

"I don't work for Ghent Wren," Kanan explained, for all the good it would do. "I'm only here because I'm helping...someone else." That was too complicated to explain. His eyes fell on the knife clutched within their hand, snapping back to the Mandalorian's visor before he continued.

"She believes you to be a group of rebels, betrayers of Clan Wren, but if what you have told me is true... then come and tell her what you have told me. If what you have told me is true, then there is no need for us to fight one another."

Slowly, he slipped the blade Song have given him into his hand. In close quarters like this, his rifle would do him little good, not against beskar anyway. The wolf on the other hand... Hopefully, neither would be necessary.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“You say you do not work for Ghent, but you came in one of his ships, from his stronghold, and with someone who does. You are not a liar, but that does not make you an ally.” The Mandalorian continued to circle Kanan like a mountain lion would to a fresh cut of meat, the tip of his knife pointed toward the Ranger’s chest. “However, I see that you care for this woman deeply. What is this Mandalorian to you, Ranger? What makes you think she would listen to what I have to say?”

The Mandalorian shook his head, then oddly enough, lowered his knife. “Perhaps we could work something out, you and me. But I know you have the distress beacon. Give it to me, and I will let the Wren live.” He reached out his hand, expecting Kanan to hand it over, staring at him through a black visor. “You have my word.”

—​

Song heard them before she saw them. She whirled and found herself staring at what had to be at least four fully-armored Mandalorians, blasters and knives raised. Surprise flashed across her face. Her eyes widened, just as they attacked.

She rolled. The spot where she’d been laying instantly turned to steam as blaster bolts crashed into the snow. Song didn’t hesitate then. She leapt to her feet, diving for a nearby tree and watching as the bark shattered and hissed under the strain of so many bolts. She couldn’t believe her luck. First the ship crash, then the fall into the stream, and now an ambush? Fury surged through her like a shot of lightning. Why this always happened to her, well, she supposed it didn’t matter anyway.

She would just have to deal with it and move on.

Song clutched her blaster rifle and, after whispering a prayer, hoping Kanan was alright, she jumped into the fray.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan continued to inch his way to the doorway, eventually coming to rest a few feet away from the only exit out of this heap of frozen metal.

The Mandalorian's words caught him off guard, but Kanan did not allow his surprise to show on his face. Was it really that obvious that he cared for Song? No, he assured himself. He wasn't that bad at concealing his emotions.

"Because her loyalties lie with Clan Wren, not the Count," the Sector Ranger replied.

He was speaking for Song in her absence, but he felt confident enough to do so. It was possible that he spoke out of turn, but he believed that she would always seek the interests of Clan Wren, not the interests of her father if the two did not align. Surely she held no great fondness for her father after the way he had treated her. Kanan certainly didn't.

Most surprising of all was the fact that the Mandalorian actually lowered his knife. He was willing to strike a deal with Kanan, or so he said. Kanan stared into the dark visor of the beskar helmet, considering the Mandalorian's words for a moment. Stranded and outnumbered as they were, a peaceful alternative was the most sensible route and possibly the only way they would make it out of this alive.

The only question was... would this Mandalorian actually stick to it?

In the end, Kanan's decision was made for him. Blaster fire rang out, echoing over the snowy hills and carried by the wind. Thinking of Song, the ranger's heart skipped a beat.

"So much for your word," he muttered, grabbing hold of the Mandalorian's outstretched arm. If he hadn't been in such a hurry to reach Song, he would have attempted to deal more damage.

Shoving the Mandalorian toward his pet wolf, Kanan darted for the exit.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

The Mandalorian stumbled back into his wolf, but made no sound. Made no attempt to stop Kanan from leaving the cockpit or escaping to Song. He only righted himself and watched as he ran into the ship's cabin. “So much for yours,” he would reply, before taking his knife between two fingers and throwing it at Kanan’s exposed back. Whether or not it landed, the Mandalorian didn't care. They followed after him at a casual pace, trailed by his wolf as if they had all the time in the world.

—​

Song watched as Kanan emerged from the open maw in the ship’s underbelly, carving through the snow, cutting toward her. Alive, and in possession of the distress beacon. She wanted to break out into a smile. She wanted to scream at him to turn around. She wanted to tell him it would be okay. Song just wished she could do anything except stay kneeling by the edge of the forest with a knife to her throat.

The fight barely lasted the quarter of a minute. Song had been up against four veteran Mandalorians, men and women trained in the same fighting style as her but with twice the experience and discipline. They moved the same speed and grace as her mother, paired with the raw strength of her father, and together struck a balance Song couldn’t quite reach. Not because she lacked the knowledge, no. If anything, it’d been because she was exhausted. Wounded. Robbed of most of her weapons and stamina.

Outnumbered and outmatched.

She’d managed to evade most of their attacks, but it had all been a ruse. By the time she turned around the bend of a tree to fire back, a fifth Mandalorian came up from behind her and pressed a knife below her chin. Then, just like that, Song stopped resisting. She'd dropped her weapon. There was no point anymore. Soon enough, she’d been dragged by the squad of rebels to the forest’s edge, revealed only when Kanan was just yards away.

The leading Mandalorian would follow after him.

“You did not seriously think you could escape, did you?” they said. “I have at least twenty men posted around this ship. More than enough to match you, and your loyalist friend, and whatever else you have hiding up your sleeve. Now, I am going to give you two options, Sector Ranger. You can either give me the distress beacon and come quietly, or I can kill you both.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Oddly enough, the Mandalorian did not offer any resistance to Kanan. He did not fight back, and he did not make a sound. Naturally, there was only one conclusion that could be drawn. The Mandalorian was unmoved and unworried.

The Sector Ranger realized this, but there weren't a lot of other choices available to him. He was beginning to regret a few of the choices he'd already made, but there was nothing he could do about that now. All he could do was run. Run and hope for the best, two staples in his life that usually didn't end all that well.

Some things never changed, and it didn't look like they were about to either.

Before the ranger could make his escape, the Mandalorian's knife lodged in his left shoulder blade. Lurching forward with a gasp, Kanan stumbled through the ship's torn and exposed plating and into the snow, collapsing onto his hands and knees.

He crawled forward, his fingers already beginning to tingle in the snow. On his hands and knees, he was going nowhere fast. Through clenched teeth, he forced himself to his feet and trudged through the ankle deep snow.

The battle had already been lost, long before he'd even left the cockpit. Perhaps before they'd even left the cave this morning. All they'd done was buy themselves time and prolong the inevitable, nothing more.

There was no point in running anymore. No sense in fighting. Using the last of his strength, Kanan pulled the Mandalorian's knife from his shoulder, shuddering as he cast the bloody blade into the snow. Succumbing to the pain and the exhaustion that crept over him and threatened to take him whole, he fell to his knees once again.

They were surrounded and outnumbered, the sharp edge of a blade pressed against Song's neck to hold her in place. This, too, had already been decided for him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered to her, handing over the distress beacon to the waiting Mandalorian.

Now they were at the mercy of rebels and traitors.

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

“I’m sorry, too,” whispered Song. She’d overestimated their odds, allowed herself to be captured, and now, she and Kanan were about to be carted off to what she could only presume would be their deaths. Quick ones, if the rebels thought to be merciful, but outcast Mandalorians rarely were. They’d interrogate and torture them, squeeze out what information they could, until all that was left of them were skin and bone.

Hopelessness grayed her thoughts. Song couldn’t bear to imagine what they might do to Kanan. He didn’t even know Clan Wren enough to give them a morsel of worthwhile intelligence. Even if he did, she knew he wouldn’t hand any over regardless. He’d suffer death by a thousand cuts before he spoke a word.

She stared at him a long moment. Snow began to fall again and the pines around them swayed in the wind. Kanan never looked more striking than in this moment. His eyes, the dark swoop of his hair, his tight shoulders and clenched jaw. Song figured this was the part where she said something sweet, meaningful, like a farewell or a confession, but instead she stayed there, gazing at him like a fawn.

Then a voice rang out, jolting Song from her thoughts. It was the sound of her own name, from the mouth of the strange Mandalorian who’d fought Kanan inside the wrecked ship. “Song?” they said, almost aghast, trailed by their pet wolf.

It was only when the strange rebel removed their helmet that Song’s jaw dropped. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. At first, she’d thought it was a man, given the warped tone of his voice and the build of his armor—but in the dim morning light, she could see it was a woman. Like her, just older. With the same face, just touched by age and the beginning of wrinkles. If Kanan looked closely, he’d see they were almost a mirror of each other. Like family.

“Mother,” said Song, stunned beyond recognition. “You’re alive.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Snow had begun to fall upon the mountainside, spreading across the earth like a pure wool blanket. Delicate and soft, it was water in its most eloquent form. A cleansing powder, sent not only to revitalize the soil but to refresh the hearts of men. If not to refresh, then to reinvigorate the resolve to fight and the will to live that innately resided within every living being. No one lived on Krownest, they survived. Destiny might have been a grand scheme, but the fate of every man laid within his own hands and rested upon every decision he made, small or large. One wrong decision, one defining mistake, and your life was forfeit.

Today, a defining mistake had been made. Perhaps it was the fact that they'd slept past sunrise. Perhaps Kanan should have activated the distress beacon the second it was within his grasp. Or maybe they should have stayed in that cave forever, just the two of them. Whatever the mistake had been, whatever their future would be, Kanan didn't want to spend his final moments wondering what could have been. All he wanted to do was look at Song one last time.

Snowflakes settled on the helmet that obscured her face from view, the very emblem that had come between them so many times in the past. Now, on the cusp of death and knee deep in ice cold snow, the two of them were not so different. The rules and factions that had divided them before, when they'd first met in that alleyway in the Outer Rim, didn't matter in the face of death. Now that the pair were in their final moments together, he could almost forgive her for shooting him and leaving him behind of Serenno.

Kanan wished that he could see Song's soft, marmoreal face, hidden beneath beskar, almost as much as he wished that the knife pressed against her neck was held against his instead. The Mandalorian's striking black eyes were concealed by the visor of her mask, but the Sector Ranger could picture them in his mind as clearly as the first day he'd been allowed to see them, back on Chandrila. Even if he could not see her now, to have glimpsed Song Wren's face at all was a privilege, a privilege that he would be grateful for unto his grave.

There were worse ways go than this, surrounded by pine trees and clean mountain air. Surely death at the hands of a Mandalorian warrior was more honorable than by the hands of a nameless criminal on some backwater planet like Nar Shaddaa or Ord Mantell. Kanan would not die alone, after all. As much as he wanted Song to be spared from this fate, he couldn't deny the comfort that her presence brought.

Of all the parting words Kanan expected Song to mutter before they died, from an insult that would put him in his place to a final 'I told you not to come,' 'Mother' was the last thing he anticipated to hear. The Sector Ranger's brown eyes followed her line of sight, up to the Mandalorian—the woman that stood above him. Were it not for the telltale signs of age, her face would have been nearly indistinguishable from Song's.

Kanan's eyes fell to the ground, fixating on the bloody knife that had been plunged into his shoulder and now stained the snow a crimson red. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that he was lucky, because if the knife had struck an artery he might have already been dead by now. Exhaustion crept at the edges of his vision, the lack of sleep from the night before finally catching up with him. It was all he could to keep his head held high, and eventually even that became a task too difficult.

The Sector Ranger lost consciousness and slid into the snow beneath him.

@Song Wren