Something had changed, and Sabine wasn't sure how to react.
It had started more than a week following Mandalore's expelling of the Empire's forces. Lady Bo-Katan Kryze was securing her leadership of the mother-world. She was gathering a council of advisors to help her oversee their home's reconstruction. She'd heard more than few rumors that her own mother was being considered for a highly influential position. But knowing Ursa Wren like she did, it was likely that the Countess would decline in favor of looking after her own clan. It was still far too early for Tristan to take the reigns of leadership just yet.
Sabine had been in the common room of the family estate, enjoying a companionable silence with her father, mother, and brother. Kanan was outside meditating, Rau was had just returned and was scouting potential recruits to the Protectors, and Ezra had just walked in, covered in snow. The four of them regarded the Jedi-in-training as he dusted himself off. He offered a sheepish smile, "I was walking through the forest and got ambushed by some of your younger cousins. Apparently, they wanted to vanquish the outsider."
Beside her, Tristan snorted, her father simply chuckled, and her mother merely shook her head, a thin smile creasing her face.
That should have been her first clue. But her brother had made a remark at Ezra's expense in their native language, and Sabine lightly smacked him on the shoulder, trying to stifle her own laughter. Then Ezra had asked what was so funny, and it felt like time had stopped.
Normally, Ezra asking to be let in on any kind of joke wouldn't be cause for shock; he'd felt pretty much left out the entire time he was here.
That the fact that he'd asked them in Mandoa was enough of a shock—that his Mandoa was nearly perfect left them completely stunned altogether.
Sabine whipped her head around to face him so quickly, she practically gave herself whiplash. Tristan, in the midst of rising from his seat, was frozen in an awkward stance. Her father head had snapped up from his data pad, a fresh mug of tea inches from his lips. It was only Alrich's ensuing yelp from the hot liquid splashing his bare forearm that allowed time to resume its course.
Sabine still sat there, stunned, as Ezra's face broke into a grin she'd become familiar with; it was the kind of grin that made her want to smack him in the head some (most) days. Quickly, she realized her mouth was open and snapped it shut, cheeks flushed.
"*What's wrong? Was it something I said?*"he asked, the cheeky little bantha breather.
Having recovered from his shock, her father hummed amusedly, "Well, this is certainly a surprise."
"That's one word for it," Tristan said, settling back on the couch.
Once she managed to recover, Sabine had demanded an explanation from Ezra on just how he came speak her people's tongue so naturally. Apparently, Fenn Rau had agreed to help him learn in a bid to surprise her—she was going to paint him pink for that one. The young Mandalorian had been more than little insulted that Ezra hadn't come to her for lessons. She might not a teacher like Kanan, but she was no slouch. Her father was one of Mandalore's finest scholars after all.
She was ready to rip Ezra a new one before he presented her with a new set of paints and a promise to let her paint the Gauntlet. It was about time too, that red reminded her too much of Maul, it needed to go.
The fact that Ezra had a gift ready was enough to leave her stunned again; for all his recent maturity, Ezra Bridger was still embarrassingly oblivious to other people's feelings most of the time.
Schooling her expression, Sabine accepted the gifts and his apology, "You got lucky, Ezra Bridger. Just for that, I won't paint pink in your sleep."
This time.
"Yeah, well, we both I'd look great in pink."
She rolled her eyes, smirking at him; if she'd been paying attention, she might have noticed Ezra share a conspiratorial glance with Ursa, like two people in on some private joke.
That would have been her second clue.
As things began to settle down in the Mandalore system, everything settled into a brief moment of peace. In her experience, Mandalorians rarely allowed a peaceful atmosphere to settle over them for a long time. But with what promised to be a long and arduous conflict with the Empire looming on the horizon, her people used this time to reflect and rebuild.
Kanan and Ezra's presence was no longer a source of tension for her clan. They'd more than proven themselves in combat, working to free the lives of people who were more than happily kill them and take their lightsabers as trophies. Now, she watched as Kanan conversed with some of her aunts and uncles, observed Ezra as he mingled with her younger cousins and allowed herself to enjoy this peace that not too long ago, would have been a fool's dream.
Sabine was having tea with her mother, talking over Mandalorian politics when Ursa dropped a bombshell on her.
"The other clans want Ezra?!"
Ursa nodded, amusement clear on her face, "It would seem someone in our family gossiped about Bridger's childhood experience. To have survived on the streets of any world at such a young age was enough to impress more than a few of our fellow clans."
Sabine groaned; why did it seem like half the adult species the Ghost Crew encountered either wanted to kill Ezra or adopt him?
One thing was for certain; Hera would not be happy about this.
It had taken nearly of Kanan's Jedi diplomacy to convince Hera not to declare open war on Mandalore following Sabine's decision to stay and help her people. Even then, it had taken a personal message from the young artist herself to quell Hera Syndulla's wrath. The very instant word reached her that the other Houses and Clans had set their sights on Ezra, not even Kanan's words would stop her; kriff, Kanan was more than likely to join her now that Sabine gave it some thought. The Twi'lek did not take kindly to anyone poaching her family and in any conflict between Mandalore and Hera, Sabine knew where to put her credits.
"And what about you?" she watched her mother carefully. "Are you going to try and make a play for Ezra?"
Ursa smiled wryly, "There's no need. If young Bridger ever decides to join the ranks of our people, he'll end up a Wren without question."
"And how do you figure that?" Sabine asked as she took a sip of her tea.
"Marriage, of course."
Sabine spat out her tea, coughing harshly as she tried to calm herself. Ursa simply sat there, watching her daughter as mischief danced in her eyes.
Once the coughing fit settled, Sabine raised her head to meet her mother's gaze, cheeks flushed, "Excuse me?!"
"You heard me Sabine While adoption would normally be a preferred option, Knight Jarrus and Captain Syndulla have all but officially adopted young Bridger. And you, as well, but that is another matter entirely. The best way to integrate him into our ways and avoid any undue conflict would be with a marriage."
"And you were thinking, what?" Sabine hissed, eyes narrowed. "That I'd agree to marry Ezra for the good of the clan?!"
"Not necessarily."
"Mother, I can't beli—"
Sabine paused mid-rant, her righteous indignation quelled by a gust of confusion. Her mother simply regarded her, stone faced, but clearly amused.
"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.
"While you would seem the best suited to introduce Bridger to our ways, that doesn't mean that you in particular need to be his betrothed. Yes, the friendship you have forged would make things easier, but there's no guarantee it would hold up well if either of you felt pressured into a marriage. Potentially ruining your friendship for the sake of politics does neither of you any good. Besides, it's not as if I haven't considered other prospects. He and Tristan have been getting along quite swimmingly lately."
Sabine's mouth dropped open, considering her mother's words. Ezra and Tristan were much friendlier with each other these days, and her brother's preferences were flexible, not that she judged him for it.
"And failing that, your cousin Juno has been letting her gaze wander on him for some time."
Sabine felt like her head was spinning, it was just too much to process all at once: the other clans wanted Ezra, her mother thought marriage would prevent a massacre by Twi'lek, and it seemed that Ezra was already endearing himself to her clan without her realizing. All she knew was that she was suddenly possessed of a protective instinct that was always present whenever a dangerous situation neared Ezra, which was unfortunately a common occurrence.
"And then there's your Aunt Sacha—"
"Mother! Aunt Sacha is only a few years younger than you!"
"Age is but a number, Sabine."
"Oh my gods," she dropped her face into her hands. What was going on?
"Wait," she lifted her head, her brow creased, "why do you even want Ezra? You've never cared about what the other clans do in regards to increasing their numbers. I mean, yes, Ezra's a Jedi and he has the Force, but that doesn't mean any kids he has will have it. And he's not much of a fighter, at least by Mandalorian standards. We've seen that."
"Sabine," her mother tutted, "That doesn't mean much, considering the young man could easily apprentice to your father. He's already familiarizing himself with some of Alrich's works."
"He is? But how do you know that?"
"I just do," Ursa finished her tea and prepared to leave.
"Wait," Sabine stood. "We're not done here. You can't just marry Ezra off to some stranger. I know you wouldn't have accepted that for either Tristan or me. He needs someone he can be comfortable with, someone he knows he can trust. Someone—"
"Like you?" Ursa replied with a knowing look.
Sabine felt her cheeks heat up, "No! I mean—it's just that you can't marry someone you know nothing about. You'd have to spend some time dating, getting used to each other, start by being friends and seeing what comes of it. The only person in our family Ezra knows that well is me."
"Am I to take this as you volunteering?"
Sabine growled, "We haven't started dating yet!"
"'Yet'?"
The young artist threw her hands in the air, "You know what I mean!"
She stomped out of the room.
"Yes," Ursa chuckled, "I think I do."