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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Foundlings

For Bo-Katan Week Day 7: Free Day

Prompt: The Niteowls Pairing: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer, Bo-Katan Kryze & ‘Original Female Character’ & The Armorer Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Axe Woves, Koska Reeves, Other Niteowl Mandalorian Characters Warning: Children of war, canon typical violence, grief, accidental child acquisition Notes: I was rewatching guns for hire and started thinking about the way the fleet was looking at Bo when she walked up a little too hard. Also, I want alien and disabled Madalorians idk. This is also my first attempt at writing a zabrak Armorer too. Also, accidentally made an original character, and We’re going back to Skira as The Armorer’s given name ( making note of that bc I’ve been avoiding it in some of my more recent works ). Summary: “not a drop of Mandalorian blood,” Axe Woves had once said, as if his fellow Niteowls were not comprised of foundlings brought into their aliit across their travels. As if the woman to his right had not been found by Lady Bo-Katan a decade prior, and trained by the Mandalorian who cared too much. “Selfless and uncaring,” They’d called her, unknowing that those who bore the sigil of the Niteowl had each been foundlings of her own. Uncaring that she had trained each and fitted ill-fitting armor to their bodies, that despite the lack of the Living Waters, they had all taken their creed under her care. Word Count: 2,224 AO3 Link: Here!

“Easy, easy,” Bo-Katan called to the waking child. The Zabrak’s eyes blinked ope, before widening as she took in her surroundings. Blue and grey armored warriors stood around her, with her head pillowed in the rigid armored lap of a redhead, whose helmet rested on it’s side in the dirt. Grime and debris smeared across her face, brows pulled into a knot of worry, though relief shown clear in yellow-green eyes.

“Lady Kryze, we are running out of time,” The man to her side called. All their armor was damaged and covered in grime, like the smell of burnt plasma and sulfur hung thick in the air around them.

“I know,” She snapped when her head turned to him, causing the young girl to shift uncomfortably at the venom in her tone. She relaxed her features the moment she’d felt the discomfort, a small frown passing onto her lips. “Hey kid, we need to get moving, can I carry you?”

The girl shifted her weight again. “I can’t feel my legs,” She grumbled, voice low and hoarse.

When she tried to look down, a gentle hand grabbed her chin and turned her gaze back to the redhead. “Don’t,” The command was soft, more of a plea than a direct order. “Not right now,” The girl nodded her head, before she raised her arms. With a little bit of shifting and a dull pain in her hips, the Zabrak was soon wrapped around Bo-Katan’s neck.

The city was in ruins, masses of bodies strewn across the fallen debris of buildings. Stormtroopers, warriors in blue, and townspeople alike, fallen along the landscape. The child hung onto the strange redhead, allowing her head to be tucked close to the humans neck. Gentle fingers brushed against the back of her head, near the horns protruding from the top of her head in a comforting manner. The other blue soldiers walked close together, weapons at the ready as they blocked whatever view she could have with the closed in formation.

“Koska, could you…” The redhead started as they approached a ship landed in a clear part of rubble.

“On it,” One of the female soldiers brushed past before the woman could finish speaking. The sound of the ramp creaking open filled the crackling silence.

“Axe, Ka, Asun, can you three collect the fallen?” She turned on the ramp to face the small squad behind her.

“Yes, Lady Kryze,” The child couldn’t see who spoke, but he had a kind voice, if not a little stuck up sounding.

“Keep comms active, I’ll have Koska return us to the fleet before she returns,” It sounded more of a suggestion than an order, but the blue soldiers nodded their heads in agreement before three sets of feet started away from them.

They pushed further onto the ship, where the child was lowered into a pulled out cot behind the cockpit. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride,” The redhead frowned. “I am Bo-Katan, of Clan Kryze, we’re Mandalorians, and we're here to help,” She started to explain, digging through a medpack for something to do.

The small Zabrak on the cot stared, not just because of the real, living Mandalorian before her, but also because she’d seen a glimpse of the legs she’d been told to not look at yet. The lack of pain made sense, then. Yellow and black limbs had been mangled by the debris that had knocked her out. The memories had started to come back, then. The air raid sirens, Imperial patrols flooding the streets and shooting anyone who’d been outside, to the smell of jet fuel and the sounds of jetpacks landing all around.

The world was shaking a lot before she’d lost consciousness, she couldn’t remember anything past her home shaking and creaking with the explosions. “Hey,” Bo-Katan’s voice pulled her from the war zone that had been her life, a hand resting on her shoulder now and a look of understanding in her eyes.

The girl’s lip quivered as tears stung her eyes, until she was once more throwing her arms around the humans neck. The armor on her chest was cold and hard, but not entirely unpleasant as she sobbed into her chest, while the woman rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

There was an awkwardness to the woman holding her, a stiffness to her actions, but enough of a combined understanding that she rolled with what she’d thought was right. Not once did Bo-Katan shush the girl, or try to quiet the sobs that wracked her small frame. “Koska, can you engage autopilot and give me a hand?” She called softly to the pilot.

There was a bit of rustling and the sound of controls being hit, before the woman from earlier approached. “Get some Bacta around the wounds we treated earlier, everything looks clotted, but I’d rather be safe. Once we’re back to the fleet we can get the droids up,”

The other woman, Koska, did as she was told. The child couldn’t feel any of it though, aside from the pressure around her hips where she was able to feel.

Staying hidden in the offered safety of Bo-Katan’s arms, the overwhelmed child quieted at last, only the sound of their heaving breaths passing dry lips. One of the woman’s hands moved from her back at last, her upper body shifting and a quiet grumble following her actions, in some language she didn’t understand, until she was being gently forced away from her chest.

“Here, take a drink, nice and slow,” The small metal canteen was pressed into her hands, when they raised it to their lips, the woman helped her take slow sips. “There we go,” When the water was depleted and the ache in her head went away, she became briefly aware of the ship jostling. “We’re just docking with the fleet now, then we’ll see what we can do. We’re safe, here,”

The canteen was left on the bed, forgotten, as Bo-Katan once more urged the child’s arms around her neck and picked her up. The capital ship they boarded from the starship was old, and had a lot of the imagery her father had showed her from the Clone Wars emblazoned on the walls as they passed. Crates were stacked along the halls, full of more blue warriors, and even armored people not wearing blue, but reds, greens, yellows, it became a plethora of color once they passed through one of the larger halls.

The pair got odd looks every so often, though the child could not tell, only the blue people seemed to take off their helmets. There was a challenge in Bo-Katan’s eyes however, her head held high and her chin jutting out as they walked.

“Hey, did you get my comm?” She questioned after bouncing the toe of her boot off a doorframe once it slid open. Inside, a golden helmeted warrior stood surrounded by medical supplies.

“I have, the droid is prepared,” She gestured to the 2-1B series med droid standing idle by one of the many cots in the med wing. “Who is this?” She seemed rather attentive to the small Zabrak in Bo-Katan’s arms, causing her to shift anxiously.

“Hey, kid, this is The Armorer,” A pause, as the two exchanged a look. “She’s my Riduur, er.. my partner, The correction came quick as the Mandalorian reacquainted herself with basic’s term of a life partner. “She’s probably the safest person on this whole ship, and that’s hard to do with these guys,”

The child nodded before she’d finally allowed Bo-Katan to lower her into the cot by the droid. “My name is Staqi,” She finally spoke in a quiet voice, timid with anxiety and fear now that she was released from the secure hold of the first woman.

“I was once called Skira,” The Armorer shared. Stagi assumed this was some grand gesture, with how Bo-Katan’s eyes had widened and her lips had parted. Skira settled on one side, while Bo-Katan came around to the other to take her hand again.

“You don’t have to look,” Bo’s voice was soft when her eyes drifted to watch the med droid. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” The redhead’s hand squeezed around her own as yellow-green eyes shifted to the work on the lower half of the cot, her own nose crinkling at the sight.

“I don’t want to,” Stagi admitted, where upon her admission, The Armorer shifted from her perch on the side of the cot so her broader shoulders covered the procedure.

“You are doing very well,” The Armorer reassured her as she settled into place, her hand that wasn’t grasped in Stagi’s reached across the child to rest on Bo-Katan’s leg. A silent look was shared between the two, unreadable to the child who did not understand their unspoken language.

“I’m alright, Cyare,” Bo-Katan finally spoke aloud, her hand reaching to brush along the rim of the golden helmet. “Bumps and bruises, truly,” She’d promised in that same soft voice, with a kind smile pulling on her lips. It reminded Stagi of her parents, before the Imperials had come.

The Armorer seemed to take this answer as acceptable, as her attention shifted back to Stagi. For the remainder of the operation, the three passed stories, told each other about themselves, and kept the child’s mind occupied, far away from the operating table, somewhere almost nice.

Even when Stagi had fallen asleep, the two women did not leave her side, though she had a brief moment of wakefulness, when the gold of a helmet had been set down on the bed near her head. Her eyes had been blurry when she’d looked around, though she thought she saw Bo-Katan curled up in Skira’s side in one of the chairs beside the cot. Her skin was as red as the stories of Dathomir’s skies, with inky black markings outlining her face. The hair that tufted out around small horns seemed soft, and Stagi had fallen asleep with the thought that it was probably as soft as it had looked, as she’d tucked the golden helmet into her arms and fallen asleep hugging the cool metal.

When she woke up again, the helmet had been removed from her arms, though it had been replaced with the blue and white owl painted design, wrapped tight in her arms. Neither woman was around, but the med droid that was checking her over promised they’d only be gone a short time.

Curious, the Zabrak lifted the blue Niteowl helmet and slid it over her own head. It was comically large, though her horns pressed against the top in just the right way so she could see out of the dark visor.

It was awkwardly shaped enough that she couldn’t see out of the entire visor, however, so when knuckles rapped against the durasteel door frame, the girl had jumped, her head snapping to the side to find Bo-Katan, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and a smile pulling at her lips. “Good morning, The Armorer needed her helmet, so I figured I’d slide in a replacement,”

“It’s so cool,” The child finally pulled it off of her head, going to hand it back to Bo-Katan, who’d just shook her head.

“It’s even cooler when you find all the buttons,” The redhead perched on the side of the bed once more, taking the helmet and holding it in a way so Stagi could see the buttons. “So this one engages the rangefinder, here, put it back on, we’ll see if you can see out of it,”

A guiding hand helped lower the helmet back onto Stagi’s head, before the weird stick on the side was lowered. Peering through the transparent glass, the room lit up with the heat seeking optic. “Woah!” She exclaimed as the rangefinder was raised and set back in place.

“Then, if you press this,” Fingers fumbled along the side of the helm, before smoothing over a button and reaching for Satgi’s hand to guide her to the button. When the child pressed it, a bright light lit up from a headlamp. She pressed it again shortly after powering it on, since it seemed hard for the redhead to see with the bright light in her eyes.

The Armorer returned, and the morning continued much like the night before. The Mandalorians had given her the ability to search for surviving relatives, though when none were found, there was no question about where she would go.

In the coming months, it had been clear that Skira had more familiarity with children than Bo-Katan, though when it came to learning how to use her wheelchair and learning how to fight despite it.

Navigation on their home planet of Mandalore had been tricky, though The Armorer and Stagi had worked together to engineer easier access all around. She’d even been able to help make her own armor, learning alongside The Armorer and her apprentices. Bo-Katan, who’d taken up her mentorship, had helped her carefully paint the Niteowl sigil and the combined sigil of the two women who’d raised her over the years. Stagi became one of the many Niteowls personally trained by Bo-Katan Kryze, and after the loss of her ‘clan’, she’d been readily accepted into Clan Kryze, along with the Mandalorian way of life.

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 7 #free day #fanfic #kalevalakryze #bo katan x the armorer #nitearmor #accidental child acquisition #is my favorite tag #this looks so sweet #yes let bo and the armorer amass an army of beloved children #also YES more alien and disabled mandalorians always

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Oh Mand'alor, my Mand'alor

🍋 a short juicy fic! ⛺ vacation time!! 👯‍♀️ two hot women!!!

you can find it here.

pairing: bo-katan kryze/koska reeves

rating: E

most important tag: Mommy Kink

small degustation upfront:

“Koska, I have an order for you,” Bo-Katan said.

Koska all but stood on attention.

“Go to your tent and bring your favorite dildo,” Bo-Katan said.

Koska was a whole innocence. “Are you implying I might have more than one?”

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 5 #mand'alor #free day #fanfic #hagebutt #koska reeves #bokoska #nsfw #(filing this under mand'alor but lmk if you had a different prompt in mind!)#good to see you!!#and good to see some koska #we can always use more of her AND this ship #💙

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Tagging: @bokatanweek

Summary: Today was the day… she was old enough to finally get her own beskar’gam. Even better, she was getting her father’s. She knew she would even get to paint it! She couldn’t wait! ll Bo-Katan Week Day 6: Armor

Author’s note: I ended up using an alternate prompt for today because I am absolutely not confident in writing the Armorer. In any case, I hope you all enjoy!

Also a note; my Wi-Fi went out so I am posting this from my phone. When it comes back, I will go through and double check for typos.

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #alternate prompt #armor #fanfic #underworldobsessed #ahhhh bo inheriting her armor!!!!#this looks great already

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Bo-Katan Week Day 6

Bo-Katan and The Armorer

I need my golden crown of sorrow

My bloody sword to swing

My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology

I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #bo katan and the armorer #fanart #perigilpin #bo katan x the armorer #nite armorer #holy shit #these lyrics are so fitting it's scary #i love this #is this actual colored pencils or just a perfect digital representation of colored pencils?#op i need you to know florence welch is my favorite musical artist of all time

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Crash

Bo-Katan Week 2023

Day 5, alternate prompt: Ursa and Bo Being Besties (but with a different spin)

AO3 link here.

There was a short time where Bo-Katan thought there might be another path, without Pre Vizsla.

Their first kiss was quick. Almost shy. Very much a bit awkward.

The next one was a bit like the first, but lingered more.

By their fifth kiss, they had learned each other’s lips. There was a familiarity in it that lended a sense of comfort to what were stolen, brief moments.

It was during the tenth kiss, this one longer and more searching, fingers twined through hair or grazing the other’s skin, that made Bo-Katan wonder if she could have a life with Ursa Wren.

And it was the twentieth kiss that it all came crashing down.

The heat of Ursa’s body, pressed close to Bo’s, chased the cool of sunset in the dim forest away. The weight of Ursa’s hands on her hips grounded her as Bo laced her arms around Ursa’s neck, wanting to hold on to her forever. Wanting to run away, far from Concordia, far from the stubborn refusal to accept the outcome of the war that had ended everywhere else in Mandalorian space five years earlier. Bo wanted to be free of it all. To be free from Pre Vizsla. And Ursa Wren, who was only here out of obligation to her House, was the first time Bo thought maybe she could actually get free.

And then it was all ripped away. A familiar vice grip clamped down hard on her bicep and yanked her back, severing her connection to Ursa. She was thrown to the ground, tossed aside like a forgotten child’s toy, the air knocked from her lungs at the force of it. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at her attacker, knowing who it would be.

“Pre,” she whispered. His face was twisted into a furious sneer as he stared down at her.

“You lying bitch,” he growled, his voice low with rage and hurt.

Movement caught Bo’s eye, and she glanced behind him to a stunned Ursa, her hand falling to the grip of her blaster, Ursa’s eyes pinned on Pre’s back. Bo shook her head, silently pleading with Ursa not to follow through with her thought.

Pre followed Bo’s eyes, turning toward Ursa, his massive framing dwarfing the smaller woman. “You. I knew it would be you.”

“Pre, no,” Bo shouted, scrambling to her knees, grabbing onto Pre’s belt. “Please don’t hurt her, Pre.”

Ursa stilled, but her hand still rested on the blaster. Her spine straightened, she tilted her chin up, defiant, looking exactly as one would expect the daughter of the leaders of Clan Wren to look. “He wouldn’t dare. He knows if he so much as hurts a hair on my head, my fathers will bring the wrath of Krownest down on this camp.”

Her confidence was intoxicating and beautiful. Bo wished she had a sliver of it. It reminded her of her own mother, long dead. And, though she’d never admit it out loud, her sister. Ursa was brave in ways Bo could only ever dream of, and it made her love her more.

The moment ended. Pre chuckled. It was a menacing sound.

“I’m not going to hurt her, Bo.”

Pre whirled, twisting quickly to grab Bo’s wrists, wrenching her arms up and back as he moved behind her, pushing his knee into her spine, bending her backward, her body screaming in protest as joints were flexed in the wrong direction, muscles and tendons stretching to their limits. Ursa went to move, jump to Bo’s rescue.

“Don’t!” Pre shouted, pulling back on Bo’s wrists more. Bo, despite having trained herself not to react to Pre’s physical outbursts, let a cry of pain slip from her lips. Ursa froze.

Pre dragged Bo to her feet, letting go of her wrists to wrap a sinewy forearm around her throat. She could feel his hot breath, smelling like cassius tea and death sticks, on her face and neck. “I won’t hurt Ursa. I’m not a foolish man.” The arm tightened and he lifted Bo until only her toes scraped the ground. “I can’t hurt Ursa because I do need the Wrens to stay on my side. But you, Bo?” He nipped at her ear, then brushed his lips to her cheek, in some sick pantomime of a kiss. “The only one who would miss you is Ursa. So, you I can and will hurt if I ever catch wind of you running around together behind my back.”

He tossed her back to the ground, and she landed hard on her hands and knees, the rough forest floor biting into her palms. She looked up at Ursa, her gold-brown eyes round with horror. “Got it, Wren?” Pre asked. Ursa nodded. “Good. Find yourself another plaything. I don’t share.”

With that, Pre turned and disappeared back into the woods in the direction of camp, leaving Bo and Ursa staring at each other, Bo’s breaths ragged.

“Ursa-” she started, but Ursa shook her head, her eyes closing for a beat as she took a deep breath. Then, she turned and walked off into the forest, deeper, further from camp, leaving Bo alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pre’s head hit the floor with a sickening thud, his face rolling to face her, steel blue eyes dead and as resigned as his last words.

Bo-Katan felt her heart hit the floor beside Pre’s lifeless body. She could not process what was happening. It was too much. It was all too much. It was everything she had been afraid of, and yet it was still incomprehensible.

“I claim this sword, and my rightful place as leader of Death Watch!” the monster growled. Bo dragged her eyes away from Pre’s face to see Maul holding the dark saber aloft, Death Watch commandos moving to take a knee at his feet.

She shook her head, working some sense back into her grief stricken brain. “Never!” she shouted. “No outsider will ever rule Mandalore!” Behind her, she sensed other commandos gathering behind her. She heard weapons priming.

“If you will not join me, you will all die,” Maul said, his voice deep and full of self assurance. The kneeling commandos stood, turning toward her and the tight bunch of commandos behind her, moving slowly, but with menace.

Bo shook her head again. This could not be happening. How could this be happening?

“You’re all traitors!”

“Unfortunately for you, history will not see it that way,” he said, sounding for a brief moment, apologetic. Then even the very air in the room seemed to shift. He swung the saber toward her. “Execute them!”

With a fleeting glance back to Pre’s face, Bo slammed her helmet on, and fired, immediately taking out a charging commando. And then, she fled, not totally comprehending, until much later, how many people had fled with her.

They had found refuge deep in the underbelly of Sundari, far from the city center. She wasn’t sure if night was falling or if this particular place was just dark, but she pulled her helmet off and sat down on a low wall, deep in the shadows of a boarded up building, feeling exhausted, terrified, and confused. She looked around, counting the heads of those with her. A dozen, maybe. Some had removed their helmets like her, and she was relieved to see many familiar faces.

Someone sat beside her, pulling off their helmet. Bo turned absently to see who it was, and gasped in relief. “Ursa!”

“What next, alor?” Ursa asked, her face looking as shell shocked as Bo felt.

Bo ignored the question and instead threw her arms around Ursa. “You’re here.”

Ursa tensed for a long moment, her arms still at her side. Then she softened, and pulled Bo into a tight embrace. “Of course I’m here, Bo-Katan. Where else would I be?”

Bo let go, pulling back to look at Ursa. She shrugged. “I just thought…well, I guess because we haven’t been close….” She trailed off, not sure how to put her complicated feelings into words. She and Ursa had once been very close. But that had changed.

Ursa smiled sadly. “I was protecting you from me,” Ursa said simply. “But while things may be different now, I still care for you. So, what next, alor?”

Bo stared at Ursa for a long moment, fighting the urge to get lost in old memories. Lost in old dreams that were never meant to be. Then she sighed, looked up and around and realized the rest of the group were waiting for her reply.

Now was not the time to wallow in old memories of girlish romances or to mourn the death of a complicated man murdered by a monster.

Mandalore came first.

“Right,” she said, standing up. “We get the duchess out.”

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 5 #alternate prompt #ursa and bo being besties #fanfic #the obiwan for me #ursa wren #pre viszla #(but with a different spin)#INTERESTING #tag copied from op because accurate >#pre the unofficial mascot of bo week

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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@bokatanweek day 6 | Bo-Katan and the Armorer | inspired by these iconic lesbian posts (x x x) ✰ reminder that T*RFs can fuck off, multiple Nite Owls are trans, & if you reblog this you love trans & nb women ❤️

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #bo katan and the armorer #photo edit #armoralor #nsfw #bo katan x the armorer #nitearmor #iconic lesbian posts PART TWO

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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I wrote this as a sequel to my only other Bo-Katan/The Armorer fic, Scorched Earth. Bo-Katan Week 2023 Day 6: Bo-Katan and The Armorer, but make it a touch unhinged. Mind the tags!!

Rating: E (NSFW, 18+)

Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer

Tags (non-exhaustive): Author chose not to use archive warnings, rough sex, hate sex, dubious consent

Summary:

And, so, that is how it all begins. Burn the earth under your feet until it is scorched, until there is nothing left to stand on, and then move to rinse and repeat the process. Bo-Katan Kryze had always found it easy to burn things, and this is was no different. This time it just happened to be herself.

In which bad decisions are made, and Bo-Katan Kryze declares she is no songbird

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #bo katan and the armorer #fanfic #machinerismsx #nitearmor #nsfw #ohh this looks like an interesting dynamic #let's be honest does bo have any hinges left anyway

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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So fun fact this was the first comic I drew, way before we even had the prompts voting up! I had the idea and just kind of did it. The face grab was so icky to draw. I’ve never actually drawn them kiss, but I’ve heavily implied it before. Some day I’ll have to suck it up and add a Bopre kiss to one of the comics, but I always feel so Bad on Bo’s behalf. 😭

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #alternate prompt #sisters #fanart #fancomic #projectorthus #bo katan x pre viszla #satine kryze #(let me know if you want me to label this with a different prompt)#(sisters seemed appropriate though :') )#love the parallels between their relationships you're showing here #and the face grab is excellently icky indeed

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bokatanweek · 9 months

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Guilt

Bo-Katan Week Day 6: Bo-Katan Kryze & The Armorer Pairing:Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer, Bo-Katan Kryze & Background Child of the Watch Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, The Armorer, Axe Woves, Background Niteowl Characters, Background Children of the Watch Characters Warnings: Background Character Death, Canon Typical Violence, Injury Descriptions Notes: I was trying to write this for day 4, got sidetracked, and figured it could be nice for day 6? Summary: “Lady Kryze-“ The young Mandalorian started, her arms wrapping around her abdomen, trying to keep pressure on the wounds Bo could not see. Her abdominal plate was gone, and her belt had been sliced, leaving her holster drooping low and tangling in the plates of armor at her thigh. The young woman hit the ground before Bo-Katan could catch her, though the woman did manage to catch her helmeted head before it could bounce off the floor. Settled on the ground with Xiti’s head in her lap, Bo-Katan spared one last look to what was left of Tumul. Getting to her feet wouldn’t have been too much of an issue, if she hadn’t needed too get an unconscious Xiti back up as well. It hurt like hell, but she’d had to use her injured arm to help get the woman up, before she could yank the woman close and force her body weight to rest mostly against her shoulders, before she started the trek back to the surface. Word Count: 4,246 AO3 Link: Here! Important COTW Original Character Mentioned:Here!

There had been a tradition, a long time ago, that a Mandalorian would go on a hunt for their first Alamite after taking their creed. Their mentor would lead them through each step on tracking and felling the beast, and then would show them how to handle the remains in a way that would benefit the clan, and not disgrace the beast whose sentience neared the complex.

Even Satine had participated in the hunt, both her first, and Bo’s own once she was of age. It was as traditional as the Pog soup that often kept the redhead fueled for each day’s horrors.

When Bo enlisted with The Death Watch, many different traditions had been opened up to her, though the Alamite hunt stayed consistent, even when The Duchess Satine’s New Mandalorian’s saw away with it. When Bo-Katan had made it to Lieutenant, Pre had given her the ever important task of teaching the newer recruits how to handle their first hunt, where to hit, the best ways to avoid getting maimed, and the evolved tracking tactics they’d had to create as they picked up and moved locations often. Concordia didn’t have the Alamites, so they were often forced to sneak to Mandalore with help from the inside to ensure everyone had a piece of their ancient ways.

The Children of the Watch however, never had to deal with Alamites, living in seclusion as they repented against the actions of their predecessors and the lost ways of the ruling clans. They were hidden in the depths of Concordia where even Pre’s governance had not reached, and continued to survive that way, even after being forced from the entire Mandalore system when the purge turned their lives upside down.

Bo-Katan had helped lead dozens of expeditions into the ruins of the Imperial Base, and the ruins of Sundari as well, though each mission had been almost entirely staffed by her Niteowls than The Children of the Watch, who’d busied themselves with setting up camp, tending to those injured in the battle, including those hurt fighting the pirates, and handling some type of scavenging in the designated safe-zones for food and materials.

It wasn’t too long, however, when the owls needed a rest, and Bo-Katan had pushed for volunteers from the other tribe, itching with their pent up energy to move again. It was supposed to be a simple mission, really. Bo-Katan, Tumul, and Xiti were just jumping onto the old trail that Axe and Koska had chased down with her the day prior. A small group of Alamities, five at most, with two deemed lame from warning shots by the hunters.

It should have been easy, but nothing ever worked out that well for Bo-Katan Kryze, who was the only person in the squad with any experience handling the beasts, the only one who could follow the tracks, and the one who should have remembered to brief her companions on the enemy before jumping in. The lack of sleep and over exuberance of energy and need to get the place clear may have had a part in her skipping over their safety, but she’d be sure to never forget it again.

Bo-Katan had spotted the way the dirt above their heads had shifted, and the false root system had started to shift. She’d managed to get herself out of the way and raise her shield in time to block the heavy weapon that pushed her back. Over the beasts’ shoulder, she watched in a slowed down horror as not only did the two Mandalorian’s not move out of the way for the drop, Tumul hadn’t been able to protect himself from the claws and teeth that lashed out against the soft pieces of his armor. The third Alamite that dropped had zeroed in on Xiti, who’d at least been able to fight back, blaster fire ricocheting off the cavern walls as she tried to fight it back.

The redhead shook her head back into focus, just in time to raise her opposite arm to block a set of sharp claws. Searing pain tore through her arm as three razor sharp claws ripped through her bicep, across her elbow, and through the open inch of her forearm, paint scraping away from her gauntlet as the claws glanced off the edge and retreated. Her hand twanged from it’s brace, the healing tendons and nerves reacting poorly to the feeling as well.

“Dank Farrik!” The woman growled, tucking her injured arm close before pushing her weight into her shield, unbalancing the beast long enough to force her injured arm to move. The pain was blinding, a dark fuzz glitching into her vision as she forced herself through it all, soon finding the sweet reward of the warmth of it’s blood seeping down her arm, and trying to avoid thinking about the wounds it was seeping into as well. Her fist pressed against it’s chin where her gauntlet’s blade burrowed into it’s throat, fingers bent much further than they should have been able to in the healing process, but certainly a problem for later Bo.

Once the green eyes of the beast went dark, Bo-Katan used her boot to nudge it off her blade and to the ground, before she lowered her shield and yanked her Westar from its holster with a grunt. The smell of burnt fur, skin, and the iron twang of blood filled the air around her, her own burning hot plasma joining the disgusting aroma as she put four yellow bolts into the back of the feeding Alamite. It’s body slumped over what was left of Tumul, and she managed to force her attention to Xiti.

Xiti was bleeding heavily from the abdomen, but she’d quickly found the pattern the Alamite attacked in, nearly dancing with the beast as she dodged, giving as good as she got, if the blood caking dirty fur were anything to go by. Bo managed to step in just in time, however, once it got it’s arms around her torso and forced her to drop her blaster. Another four shots to the back of the head, and the beast was going slack, letting Xiti break from its grasp before it dropped top the ground.

“Lady Kryze-“ The young Mandalorian started, her arms wrapping around her abdomen, trying to keep pressure on the wounds Bo could not see. Her abdominal plate was gone, and her belt had been sliced, leaving her holster drooping low and tangling in the plates of armor at her thigh.

The young woman hit the ground before Bo-Katan could catch her, though the woman did manage to catch her helmeted head before it could bounce off the floor. Settled on the ground with Xiti’s head in her lap, Bo-Katan spared one last look to what was left of Tumul.

Getting to her feet wouldn’t have been too much of an issue, if she hadn’t needed too get an unconscious Xiti back up as well. It hurt like hell, but she’d had to use her injured arm to help get the woman up, before she could yank the woman close and force her body weight to rest mostly against her shoulders, before she started the trek back to the surface.

It was grueling work, both physically and on her mind, knowing she’d left not only a corpse, but two other hostiles down there to do whatever with Tumul. But eventually, the light broke through the blood and dirt caked around her visor, and she was face to face with at least a dozen of Mandalorians on the other side, several of whom appeared to be ready to launch into the caves themselves.

“Bo-Katan,” Axe greeted, the first to notice their approach. His expression grew worried when he took in the sight. Xiti’s feet dragging as Bo-Katan struggled under the weight. Blood thick on both women’s armor, and the all too noticeable lack of a third. “Medics,” His voice was quiet at first, though in short order, he was stepping away from Koska and calling for them louder.

Part of her hadn’t wanted to let Xiti go, when armored bodies started to try and take the young woman from her, though she was in no condition to fight, her own vision swaying from blood loss, warmth tingling in broken fingertips as the body was pulled away from her grasp, and her arm was able to return to it’s tucked position against her chest.

Axe caught her by the shoulders, her free hand grabbing onto his elbow to steady herself as she struggled to reign in her focus. “Tumul, two more ‘mites,” It was all she needed to say before his mission face came back on, and she was being passed off to another to keep her steady.

“Koska, Cina, on me, recovery and extermination!” He barked to the two Niteowls that had been geared up to go in for three already. With the efficiency she’d come to appreciate, the Niteowls were retreating back into the caves to recover the remains, and finish off the last two beasts keeping them from the sector.

“Lady Kryze, come with me,” A smooth timber broke her from racing thoughts, bringing her focus back onto the woman Axe had handed her off to. The Armorer’s grip on her shoulders was firm, though not unkind, and while Bo could sense worry on the other woman, for one of her own was being carted away to the medtents, she still handled Bo-Katan with a calmness that even the Mand’alor could not summon.

The Armorer led Bo-Katan away, finding the back ways to their recently shared quarters, keeping Bo-Katan out of sight from any who may be wandering the residential zones at this hour. The second they’d breached the flimsy wood of the door, and Akaan started to nuzzle at her hand in greeting, the redhead finally snapped.

“I should have given them pointers, I didn’t give them anything they needed, I just assumed-“ A dry laugh, as she shrugged off the sewer drake with a shake of her hand. The hand pressed against the drying blood on her armor shook along with the growing cold and the tingles that still ached along rebooked bones. “I should have never assumed, that was so-“

The Armorer stayed silent as she started to move around the pacing Niteowl in their living room, which Bo-Katan paid no mind to as she wore a path into the prefabricated flooring. “Even the smallest indication that they hid up there,” Her hands flexed, and her face twisted up in a wince, her free hand grasping onto her wrist with her thumb pressing into the swollen and bruised skin of her hand beneath the glove.

“May I remove your helmet?” The Armorer asked at last, not phased in the slightest when the taller woman’s head snapped to look at her, almost as if Bo was just now remembering she was in the room.

“Yes, it’s fine, I got it,” The hand she raised to the lip of her helmet was lowered, both of The Armorer’s gloved hands moving to rest on either side of her helm before lifting it away with a soft hiss.

The Mand’alor was… messy was putting it easy. If it weren’t for her headband putting in overtime, her hair would be plastered to her sweat slick forehead. Her lips were chapped and bitten, and yellow-green eyes had a gloss to them, whether it was from pain, exhaustion, or from riling herself up, The Armorer had not been able to place immediately.

Either way, when she rested her gloved hand on the side of Bo’s cheek, the taller woman’s head dipped before she was leaning into the touch and quieting herself.

“This is not your failure, Lady Kryze,” The Armorer tried to placate the pacing Mand’alor, while attempting to take a closer look at her injury, the woman’s arm was held close enough to her chest that blood smeared against her chest plate.

“I should have known! If I would have-“ The Armorer cut her off once more, a firm hand grasping her shoulder and guiding her to the edge of their bed. “Sit,” The Mand’alor dropped into the bed at the command, finally taking a moment to breathe since the attack.

The Armorer continued to move about the room to gather supplies, as Bo dug her elbow into her knee and dropped her head into her hand, her other leg bouncing against the floor to expel some of the nervous energy brought upon by adrenaline.

The Mand’alor startled when an ungloved hand touched her pauldron, her eyes zeroing in on the pale flesh that worked away the silver beskar with hawklike focus, even with the nebulous glaze that still coated eyes that shone more yellow than green.

Her body pitched forward, just until her overheated forehead met the cool beskar of The Armorer’s chest plate. The hand not focusing on carefully stripping away her pauldron and gauntlet, wrapped around her back, so her fingers could loop into the space between her flight suit and her back plate.

Bo-Katan stayed silent as her armor was removed, even biting back the hiss of pain from a careful hand peeling away the edge of her flight suit from the mark. With a thoughtful sound, The Armorer went to the medkit to slide the disposable clean gloves over her hands, before she started the careful process of deciphering torn skin from torn fabric, to cut away the fabric to give her more room to work.

Eventually, Bo did have to pick her head up so The Armorer could work. Slow, measured breaths kept her heart slow, even as The Armorer worked on patching her up with a delicacy one would not think a metal worker could obtain. Though, Bo knew the truth about the woman who bent steel to her desire. She knew the woman tended the flowers in the gardens, and often helped younglings even with trivial wounds like splinters and scraped knees, had even watched The Armorer help her nurse Akaan to health when they’d found him as a wounded foundling in his own right.

“I apologize,” Bo started, staring at the layering of white gauze over batch doused stitches. The Armorer stayed silent, so Bo-Katan pushed onwards. “Yes, I should have done more to ensure Tumul and Xiti were fully prepared, but it was entirely unbecoming of me to lose myself in a manner,”

There was a brief moment of fear, as the golden woman stepped aside, before exiting the room entirely. When the door was open, Akaan came bounding in, wings flapping as he pounced on the bed and made himself comfortable next to her. Dread settled in next, as she stared at the open door and tried to listen past the lizard’s snuffling against the sheets. Then, came the ice bucket of relief, as The Armorer pushed past the door once more, a canteen in one hand, and a plate with Uj cake, with a bowl of pog soup settled hazardously between the plate and her elbow.

The Armorer settled each plate on the nightstand she’d made, before her gaze turned to Bo-Katan’s lizard. “What did we say about you being on the bed?” She spoke, though the lizard simply blinked at her, before a forked tongue smacked against his own emerald eyeball. Bo reached to tug him into her lap, a small smile tugging at her lips as he got comfortable, and the shorter woman could finally take a seat beside her.

“Xiti will be alright, though she will not be in any fighting shape for quite some time,” The Armorer informed as she unscrewed the cap of the canteen and passed it to Bo-Katan, a sugary sweet smell wafting from the contents when she’d raised the container to smell it.

“I’ll take her duties on,” She promised immediately, it was her lack of teaching that had led to the losses, anyways. “And Tumul’s,” The liquid was smooth going down her throat, though her eyes narrowed at the imitation berry taste hit her tongue. “You drugged this,” She commented, without any true malice in her tone, or any thought as she took another drink.

“A sleep aid, yes, you need to heal, lady Kryze. As for their duties, it is best discussed once both Xiti and yourself have gotten rest.” The Armorer took the canteen back once Bo was finished, before turning her head and lifting her helmet enough to finish the rest of the ‘spiked’ drink. It wasn’t the first time either of them had done the same to each other, when both of their unhealthy habits took over. The proactive thinking would surely pay off, since Bo had no intention of resting at all, until she was certain Tumul’s body had been retrieved,

“You’ve lost a great deal of blood, and you haven’t been taking care of yourself while handling these expeditions, it was only a matter of time before problems arose. It is unfortunate that these were the results, but we will learn from them, and prevent future mistakes from being made,” She spoke as she stirred the still steaming bowl of soup. The herbs floating around was a signature of Axe’s cooking, which, while she was loathe to admit, was to die for. “That starts with food, rest, and a reset for the morning,”

When the spoon rose to her lips, Bo wasted no time in opening her mouth and allowing the warm broth to bite at her tastebuds, before the sweetness of Chando Pepper soothed it away. The edging feeling of unworthiness loomed overhead, though with each spoonful of soup that was shared between the two women (and the very excited sewer drake, who jostled The Armorer’s hand every few turns so he could lap up whatever dribbled off), the feeling would subside. She was certain it would always be there, looming like a storm on the horizon, but The Armorer made it just a bit more bearable to focus on the light while she had it.

Her eyelids were growing heavy by the time the Pog soup was gone. Her right arm, wrapped in secure bandages and her hand recasted, were a dull thrum in the back of her mind, in an almost comforting way, as her left hand trailed knuckles across her lizard’s dry scales. “Just a little more,” The Armorer’s voice was free of the barrier of the vocoder, though, even after all this time, and vows passed between them, the redhead did not raise her gaze to stare at features she knew by heart. Instead, she allowed the dense desert to be pressed past her open lips, chewing slowly to appreciate the sweet and spice packed into the cake. Even with bakers on world who kept the treat in near all Mandalorian homes, it was still a delicacy meant to be savored (no matter what Grogu said, he was a little gremlin, that she loved, she just could not process his ability to inhale food the way he did).

Once their meal was finished, and their armor shed, with Bo-Katan’s empty promises to clean the blood from her armor later, and The Armorer cleaning it up for her, as the redhead curled into her side of the bed. The Armorer didn’t take long to clean up, before she soon joined her Riduur in bed, who immediately gravitated to her warmth and curled into her side. She even forced herself to remain tolerant of the lizard that soon sandwiched himself between them.

Morning came with another bout of anxiety from the Mand’alor, found pacing the length of their living room, already cleaned and armored up for the day, a mug of caff clamped between two jittery palms. She was worrying her bottom lip, though when The Armorer’s bare frame came into view from her peripherals, she’d immediately righted herself. “Good morning,” The Mand’alor greeted, setting her mug down and smoothing her hands against her thigh plates as she approached the woman.

“Your hand is supposed to be in the brace, and your arm is meant to stay in the sling,” The woman pointed out as Bo’s hands rested on either side of strong hips. It wasn’t often she got to see even a sliver of the woman’s skin, so seeing her entirely naked in the morning was certainly a treat she would not waste.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Bo explained, cheeks darkening at the admission that she had needed help to rebandage herself after her shower. She pressed on in her affections, chin resting on the dip of a soft shoulder, close to the scar that enunciated the sharp line of her collarbone all the way to the back of her shoulder blade.

The Armorer’s sighed through her nose with a huff, as her arms wrapped around the mildly clingy Mandalorian pressing into her. “Come, when we are ready ,we will go see Xiti,” It took more prodding, more soft kisses, and allowing the redhead to cling onto her for longer than she would have initially liked, but soon enough, Bo-Katan’s hand was back in the brace, her arm was rewrapped, and a sling kept her from pulling any (more) stitches.

The medtent was full of Mandalorians that had stopped by to check in on their vod’ika, as well as pay their respects to Tumul’s memory. The Mandalorian in the cot was as small as Bo-Katan remembered, though she seemed fuller of life than even the green plated warrior at her side.

“Lady Kryze,” Xiti spoke, dressed in nothing but her helm and a patched together flight suit, bandages wrapped tight around her torso, and her hand in a similar cast to Bo’s as well. Her spirits seemed high, despite the situation they’d found themselves in.

“Xiti,” Bo’s head dipped as she stepped into the room, The Armorer stepping to the neatly stacked pile of armor in the corner to double check each piece, staying just in earshot, in case either her grown foundling, or her Mand’alor needed her.

“How are you feeling?” Both women questioned at the same time, the Child of the Watch’s laughter echoing from her vocoder. “I could be better, though I am eager to learn what I can to further prevent such a series of events,” She continued, as bo-Katan perched on the edge of the cot, hands folded in her lap.

“I can imagine so, though I would like to apologize for my failure to keep you informed on our enemy,” The redhead’s expression fell, however, she managed to pull herself away before she could delve any further into it. “I will not make that mistake ever again, and I will be ensuring everyone gets the same training on what we may face here as soon as I am able,”

The Armorer had lowered herself into an empty seat, one leg crossed over the other and a pauldron in her hand. “May I?” She questioned the bedridden Mandalorian, who nodded her head. Bo hadn’t known where she hid the chisel, and she was content to keep it a mystery for the time being.

“There is the issue of your duties, and ensuring they are distributed evenly across the tribes, Lady Kryze has offered to cover some, is there anyone else in particular that may have the experience to fill in until you are well?”

“Perhaps Akdath, he has been assisting me in many of my duties when he is free, as well.” Xiti spoke after a moment’s consideration, glancing to The Armorer at the sound of the chisel breaking away pieces of beskar. “We will speak with him to see if he can work it in his schedule, I spoke to Axe and Ragnar last night, they have offered to fill Tumul’s duties until one of the younger foundlings are prepared to learn the trade,” The trio spent the rest of their visit in silence, aside from the sound of The Armorer chipping away at metal. When she had finished, she had risen from her seat and perched on the other side of the cot, opposite Bo-Katan, before she handed the pauldron to Xiti. Against smooth metal, four ‘eyes’ were carved into the metal, along with the markings of claws across the metal. The sigil of the Alamite, one earned that would bare her victory against a beast that would have bested her. Xiti turned the pauldron around in her hands, thumb brushing over the carved metal. “I will clean it up, once we can venture to the forge, together.” The Armorer promised. “A fitting sigil, The Alamite hunts used to be a tradition honored by our people for generations, once we have everyone up to par, we can see about settling back into them,” Bo promised. There would be no Alamite hunt where Tumul’s song was not sung, she would be sure of it. “I’m looking forward to it, Lady Kryze,” Xiti said, fitting her pauldron onto her flight suit, despite the rest of her armor being set aside. It was an important thing, earning your mark, Bo hadn’t taken her own off for weeks after she painted the Niteowl into her own armor. “Now, we are going to take care of Shriek-hawk foundlings, I believe it will be a two person job, while we acquaint ourselves with the foundlings,” The Armorer and Bo-Katan bid their goodbyes, before they headed to the deep caverns they’d changed to fit the three growing hawks.

Translations: dank farik - expletive vod'ika - little sibling

#bo katan week #bkw 2023 #day 6 #bo katan and the armorer #fanfic #kalevalakryze #bo katan x the armorer #nitearmor #oh boy WHUMP #delicious

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