Worship Me
A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger story
Story Summary: Tucked away inside their watchtower during a snowy night on Lothal, Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger ponder the future and their relationship.
The beverage dispenser whirred and deposited the last of its contents - sweet, sweet hot chocolate - into the mug; Ezra watched the steam waft up from the dark brown ambrosia, bringing with it the tantalizingly sweet aroma that made his mouth water.
Even with the heating unit at max, the watchtower's interior was still chilly. Outside the temperatures were approaching near freezing and bringing with it fresh concerns of an early, bitter winter with its sleet and snow. But, for now, the snow was harmless and provided an endless frosty wonderland for all the children - and not an insignificant number of adults - to enjoy. Ezra took the fresh mug of hot chocolate in one hand and grabbed another less recently filled one in his other and moved to the watchtower's balcony.
His partner, Sabine Wren, was standing there. Wrapped in a comfy gray shawl - a gift from her departed master, Ahsoka Tano - she leaned against the railing, watching the snow drift lazily down. Just beyond, lit brightly against the snowfall, was Lothal's Capital City with its gorgeous array of spires and skyscrapers. Ezra smiled wistfully, thinking of all the families living in those towers, their children's faces pressed against the glass to watch the snow come down.
He remembered with a pang of melancholy of doing just that with his own parents, Ephraim and Mira, many years ago. Waking up to see the snow, riding a sled down the hills of Lothal's fields, scampering after the loth cats to find their hidden burrows . . .
"Enjoying the view?" Sabine called to him, jolting him out of his reminiscing. He blinked, re-focusing on her.
Even after all these years, she still took his breath away with her beauty. Sabine's hair had grown a little longer, the dyed orange tips just brushing the top of her shoulders now. He knew she wouldn't grow it any longer, purely for practical reasons, but oh how he yearned to see Sabine with longer hair. Underneath the shawl, she wore casual clothes: a bright orange tunic, yellow combat pants, and maroon boots. Once upon a time, he had teased that her outfit was similar in style to the one he wore during the Rebellion and had received a sharp poke in the side for his observation (but he had noted slyly that Sabine was blushing as she did so).
Playing it cool (ha ha), he replied, "Yup."
Smooth, he thought dourly. Very cool, Ezra.
Sabine snorted and took one of the mugs to sip at. "Charming as always, Ezra."
He batted his eyes at her in, hopefully, a smoldering fashion. "Hey, it's a part of the package. Prince Charming, that's me."
She choked on the hot chocolate.
Using his sleeve to dab at her mouth, he said, "That wasn't meant to be a joke."
In between gasps of air, Sabine choked out, "You're going to kill me with any more of whatever this is you're trying to do."
Ezra sighed and took her gently by the arm. "Let's just head inside."
Once Sabine had settled down, they settled onto the couch and wrapped a large quilt - a gift from Zeb and Kallus (with an apology note from Kallus about the quilt's clumsy construction but Zeb tried really hard, and he hadn't the heart to tell him otherwise) - around themselves. Sabine was sipping at Ezra's mug of hot chocolate, since he was the reason why hers had been spilled. Normally he would have protested, especially since it was his favorite beverage, but Ezra had learned long ago that certain arguments were futile with Sabine, so he gladly acquiesced.
They sat there in silence, just listening to the watchtower's gentle mechanical hum and the occasional mewling from Murley, who had taken up the usual perch at his favorite window.
Ezra closed his eyes and took in the ambience, enjoying the simple feeling of being at home and beside the person he loved the most in this galaxy.
. . . And trying to ignore the fact his hands were shaking ever so slightly.
Sabine set down her mug on the table in front of them. He felt her turn towards him, leaning in close, her warm breath tickling his ear . . .
"Your hands are shaking, cyar'ika," she said quietly.
Ezra's eyes opened as he grimaced. "You caught that," he said glumly.
Sabine arched an eyebrow at him. "You can't hide anything from me, Ezra," she replied. "We're partners."
Ezra shrugged off his side of the quilt, glaring at his traitorous hands. "I don't know why they're doing that," he confessed. "It's been happening more and more lately."
She cocked her head at him, thinking. "Not during our missions," she said. "Only when we're home."
"Yeah," he said. "You think they'd be acting up while we're fighting off pirates or negotiating trade disputes or any number of stressful situations we've been in . . . but no. Just whenever we're home."
Sabine gently grasped his shaking hands. They stilled in her touch. "It's fear, I think," she surmised, studying his face. "And something more."
Ezra frowned at her. "What am I scared of when we're home, safe and sound, alone together?"
"Talk it out. Let your thoughts flow along with your feelings, cyar'ika."
Ezra sighed. "Okay," he replied. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force for calm and just . . . listened to himself, breathing in and out. He felt Sabine's presence beside him - a constant fierce light, radiating love and belief and support -
The quiet.
He opened his eyes, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise unsettlingly. "That's it," he murmured. "That's what it is."
Sabine looked at him, frowning. "What is it?"
"It's the quiet," Ezra said. "It's the peace. I'm not used to it."
He leaned back into the couch, processing this revelation. After a few moments he said, "Sabine, do you realize we've been fighting for most of our lives?"
Her grip on his hands tightened. Ezra looked and saw the discomfort appear on her face. "It's not something I like to dwell on," she said. "But, yeah. I know."
"I think it's come to the point where I feel more at home in a battlefield than I do at our actual home. The peace, the quiet . . . Sabine, it scares me. I'm scared it could be disrupted at a moment's notice, that it could be taken away."
Ezra stared at her, his vision going blurry. "I'm scared you could be taken away. Or me, taken from you. It all feels false, somehow. I can't truly enjoy it."
Sabine reached out and cradled his face to her chest. He heard the gentle, re-affirming beat of her heart. It calmed him a little.
"The galaxy's a scary place, Ezra. We've already lost each other once. I wish I could guarantee that it will never happen again . . . "
Ezra said bitterly, "You can't. No one can."
She turned his face upwards towards hers. "I love you, Ezra. That's all I can promise you. I'll love you until the stars go cold."
"Is it enough, Sabine? Love doesn't promise anything. It wasn't enough for Kanan and Hera. It didn't save Kanan. It killed him." The mention of his former master, Kanan Jarrus, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He felt awful for saying it, but it held true. Kanan had loved Hera deeply - enough to give his life to ensure hers and everyone else's future on Lothal.
But he had still died. And he knew Hera still felt that loss keenly everyday.
Yes, the love had been there. But it hadn't changed anything.
Kanan still died. Hera had told him of the regrets she felt; things that should have been said but were put aside in the foolish hope that there would be another time to say them.
"You don't mean that, Ezra," said Sabine sharply. "I know you don't."
Ezra turned his face away, hiding his shame. He shrugged in response.
Sabine grabbed his face and wrenched it back towards her. Her brown eyes, normally bright and compassionate, burned with a fierce anger. "Listen to me," she said. "Do not let this fear turn you into something you're not, Ezra. You're better than this. I know you are."
Ezra let out a frustrated breath, bowing his head. "I know. I just . . . I don't know, Sabine. Will this be enough for us? With the lives we lead? I don't want there to be any regrets between us."
"You mean like Hera and Kanan?" asked Sabine. "I get what you mean."
He looked at her, feeling lost. "So what do we do?"
Sabine looked back at him. Then, with a soft touch, she placed a finger under his chin and titled his face up ever so slightly.
"If the love is not enough," she said softly, "then I will ask you for more."
Ezra stared at her, entranced. "What do you mean?"
Sabine leaned in close; the scent of her, a lilac fragrance, filling his nose, intoxicating his mind . . .
"Adore me, Ezra Bridger," she whispered. "Worship me."
His mind went blank. "I . . . how?" he heard himself ask.
With her other hand, Sabine reached behind his head, running her fingers through his hair. Silvery sensations erupted from his scalp; Ezra could hear his heart pulsing loudly within his ears. The fingers clenched, and she pulled him into a deep, searing kiss.
After what felt like an eternity, she let him up for air. Breathing heavily, she placed a hand on his chest.
"I will worship you too," she said huskily. "All of you."
She leaned forward and kissed his chest. "I worship your heart."
His forehead. "I worship your mind."
Sabine reached for his hands, still shaking but for different reasons now. She brushed her lips lightly against each of his fingers. "I worship your hands."
Ezra shivered at her touch. When she was finished, she gazed deeply into his eyes. "Your turn now," she said with an impish grin.
"Are you sure about this?" Ezra asked. "I haven't . . . I mean, this is my first time."
"Mine too," Sabine admitted.
Ezra's eyes widened. He smiled, feeling surprised - and a little gratified. "You waited for me?"
Blushing, Sabine punched him gently on the arm. "Obviously, goober."
He grinned at her. "So, who will take the lead then?"
"Me," she said bluntly. "Unless the Noti gave you directions."
Ezra laughed, feeling some of the tension slide out of him.
Sabine poked him in the chest. "Hey. Focus. Back to worshipping."
He reached out through the Force and dimmed the watchtower's lights. Sabine quirked an eyebrow at him. "Trying to set the mood?" she asked.
Ezra glanced at his hands - they were steady as a rock.
He slid his hands underneath the quilt, searching . . .
Sabine frowned at him. "What are you - oh."
Ezra gently pressed himself against her and returned her kiss with a fervent ardor that left them both breathless. Blinking at him, stunned, Sabine asked, "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Maybe the Noti did teach me some things," he teased. "Oh, I've got tricks that will blow your mind, Sabine Wren."
A sly smile grew slowly on her beautiful face. "Yeah?" she challenged. "Are you willing to show me some more of these tricks?"
"Certainly," said Ezra. "If you're not busy this evening."
She rolled her eyes. "I've got some free time, sure," she replied dryly.
"Excellent," said Ezra. And he promptly got to work, worshipping her, adoring her.
*Author's Note: One of the craziest lines I've ever heard in romantic fiction is a woman saying to her lover, "Worship me." I immediately knew it was something Sabine would say to Ezra and, well, here we are.
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