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Chapter Two

Rey waited. For six months, she waited for him without feeling his breath, or even his presence within the Force. He was deliberately keeping himself from her, she knew that much. For what, she had to be patient to uncover. This was the same man who stalked her relentlessly to tell her of her family name, the same man who yearned for her to take his hand and stand by his side. He would not so easily forget the love he developed for her, and neither would she. She would wait.

So, she taught Sennic. She watched him grow in his studies as a diligent Padawan Learner. She listened to the Force guide her, whispering to her what she was to do next. Each day, the Force guided her in the perfect lesson to teach him and how to do it. She pushed him each day, feeling the Force remind her that he was a child and nowhere near as gifted as she had been. She listened to him, hearing his concerns and assuring him that he was doing well.

Meditating as often in the Force as she did also had it's downsides. She could feel so many students! So many children in need of a teacher, and yet there was only one for the entire galaxy. She sighed, watching Sennic descend from his training bridge attached to a single rope. It was her hope to make him a Jedi like herself, then have him take on a new Padawan Learner and she would, too. By then, she would conceivably have a temple where she could serve as Headmaster.

She closed her eyes, stilling herself to this dream. The felt the sun beating down on the sand, warming the rocks. She felt the life of the market, the babble of a thousand voices, the strain of animals beneath the weight of packs, and death amongst the Dune Sea. Balance.

She inhaled, pleading the Force to show her what her future dreams could bring.

Rey gasped. There was a stone temple. There were foundlings with many coloured lightsabres, and even a library filled with textbooks. She even saw herself, wearing long tan robes, her brown hair streaked with grey like shooting stars. Of all the Jedi there, she couldn't see Sennic in her future! She set her jaw and searched for his light, finding his torch only as he ran to his stun sabre beyond her closed eyes. She didn't see him beyond today! He used to be there, clear and upright, a model Jedi almost as good as herself but now…

She blinked her eyes open, seeing the dirt avenue shared with the Mandalorian foundlings. What was this vision?! Does she push him too hard and he dies? Does he take the Creed of the Mandalore? Does this mean she dies before he becomes a Jedi? What about Ben?!

The Force constricted around her, blaring alarms of warning.

She whirled around, arm extended, shooting the Force out with a shout of, 'No!'

The entire community halted, the helmeted eyes of the Mandalorians turning to startle at the sight that beheld them. A single beam from a blaster shivered feet before her, her heart beating evenly as she took in the sight. Sennic's elder brother, Saron, had removed his blaster and decided to shoot the practice ball that hovered around his brother. What happened, however, was Rey stopped the beam from hitting his brother. The community gasped, staring at the red beam as it shivered before Rey's hand, the boy who fired it leaning back, then looking at his blaster.

Rey inhaled, and shook her head slightly, 'Is it the way of the Mandalore to be rude to another's students?'

Saron looked up at her, his shoulders squaring and his feelings flaring such embarrassment he spoke in rage, 'A Mandalorian does not run and play games with his mind!'

'The Way of the Mandalore,' A mechanical, elder voice called, 'Is one that respects those whose way closely mirrors their own.'

Saron immediately holstered his blaster, and bowed his head as the shadow of the Professor walked to him, her helmet lowered to glare at him. Rey watched her as she approached, taking in her fur shoulder wrap, her scratched Beskar steel armour, and her simple skirt over tight fitting slacks and tucked into boots made from a Mandalorian cobbler, the best for her way of the creed. She halted, her boots not even kicking dust on Saron's shoes.

'Who gave you permission to fire that blaster at an innocent?'

'No-no one Professor. But-'

The Professor cut him off, 'Is it the way of the Mandalore to fire upon those who have done no harm?'

Saron shook his head, feelings screaming a thousand emotions of fear, 'No-no, Professor. I-'

'Is it the way of the Mandalore to disrespect those whose ways are different?'

Saron hung his head. 'No, Professor.'

'Then why did you feel it your right to do it?'

Saron said nothing. He simply stared at the ground, his feelings of embarrassment giving way to sheer terror.

The Professor shifted only slightly, watching the boy. Rey stole a glance at the blaster shot, noticing that several Mandalorian Foundlings had tiptoed towards it, their feelings of awe making her smirk.

'Remove your blaster,' The Professor commanded, breaking the silence but only increasing the tension.

Saron did it immediately, clicking the safety as he unholstered it, and raising his helmet with the weapon.

The Professor looked it over, admiring the cleanliness above the craftsmanship. She inhaled suddenly, lifting the blaster to her shoulder and brought it down across the front of Saron's mask, turning his head and dropping the boy to the dust.

Rey saw two women flinch forward, women she knew to be the wives of crewmen newly moved into the community. She dropped her hand from the blaster and extended it to the women, halting them like they ran into a wall.

'No,' She whispered to them.

The women looked to each other, exchanging confused glances before shooting a glance at Saron.

Rey turned back, seeing the Professor step over Saron's pint sized body as he moaned in the dirt, rubbing his helmet. 'Master Skywalker,' She called, helmet pointed directly at Rey, 'You must have many chores with only one student.'

Rey glanced down at Saron, watching him crawl to his feet. She looked up at the Professor and replied, 'The Millennium Falcon has been needing a top to bottom interior scrub for some time.'

'It would be a shame for you to take time off your Foundling's studies to have to do that yourself.'

Sennic joined Rey's side, looking at his brother but staying completely silent. Rey glanced down at him, then turned back to the Professor. 'I'd appreciate the help,' She told her.

The Professor half turned towards Saron, 'And so it shall be done.'

'The inside of the Millennium Falcon is twice the size of the classroom!' Saron protested. 'It will take all day! Maybe even two!'

The Professor didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe when she responded, 'Then you shan't have dinner.'

'But-'

'This is the way,' The Professor commanded, her voice so firm Saron didn't say another word other than the ingrained response of: 'This is the way.'

She twitched her head towards Rey, her feelings seeking approval from her fellow teacher. Rey lifted her chin and responded, 'Such is the way of the Mandalore, and the Jedi shall respect it.'

Rey dropped the Force and the blaster shot exploded into the side of a building, causing the Foundlings and the onlooking neighbours to a jolt and scream.

Neither teacher moved. She simply turned to her student and they scampered back to their tasks, frightened that they should be next.

SWSWSW

Rey poured a cup of water for Sennic whilst he panted beside her, head barely lifted to accept the cup.

'Here,' Rey cooed, handing him the wooden cup. 'You're getting better at the course. I'm going to have to change it to challenge you, soon.'

Sennic swallowed the water in one, noiseless slurp. 'Not too soon, I hope.'

Rey chuckled, and began pulling out their lunches from the pail his mother had left them when they were running the course. 'No, I'll have time to come up with something.'

'Master Skywalker,' Sennic panted, but pinched his eyes shut and he panted.

'Slow breaths,' Rey directed, cold meat in hand. 'Steady yourself. Excitement's over.'

Sennic took a deep breath, then held it for two seconds before letting it out. He did this several times until his pants were less desperate, and his shoulders less hunched.

'Better, isn't it?' Rey smiled, coming with the wooden plate of lunch.

'Much,' He tried to smile.

Rey took a bite of her meat and cheese, savouring the taste of the wood burned flesh and the salt of the cheese. Mrs. Shad was a fair cook for sure!

'Master Skywalker,' Sennic asked, his own lunch half eaten. 'When will I get my lightsabre?'

Rey set her food down. After a quick gulp of water, she answered, 'You'll make one. But, you're not yet ready for it.'

Sennic wilted slightly. 'When-when will I be ready?'

'When the Force wills it,' Rey told him simply. 'I've been asking that question for a while now. And still nothing when it comes to your lightsabre. I don't know why that is, Sennic. I thought for sure by now you would have something other than your stun sabre. It would make teaching you just a bit easier, but that isn't the case. The Force doesn't think you're ready, yet.'

'Can the Force change it's mind?'

Rey giggled. 'Not exactly. We change our circumstances, we change our attitudes, we change our feelings. The Force doesn't change it's mind, it has none to change.' She took another sip of water before continuing, 'The Force simply exists, providing balance and insight for all who seek it. You just need to be patient and obey the Force as you've been doing. Because once you've got it,' She turned to him and smiled, 'You'll be unstoppable.'

Sennic gave her a small smile, his feelings flashing some sort of calm. He took his meal and unwrapped it, but Rey lifted her head, feeling an elder version of Sennic approach their school tent. She bit into her meat in time for Mr. Amlag Shad to come around the corner and peer into the tent. His usually greasy black hair was clean, but his face still wore a sand mask that left only his broad nose and eyes a sunburnt russet. He had driven from marketplace, possibly to handle his other son who disrespected the Jedi.

'Master Skywalker,' He called, bowing his head. His voice was not nearly as deep as one would think it to be, but his tone never brooked any arguments.

At once, Rey set her half eaten lunch down and wiped her mouth with the linen it had been wrapped in (she had been assured by Mrs. Shad that this was acceptable). She waved her hand, drawing him into the tent.

'Mr. Shad, welcome.' Rey called, rising and issuing a short bow, prompting Sennic to do the same but with deeper movements. 'What brings you from your stall so early?'

Mr. Shad made a quick sweep of her teaching tent. Chalkboard scribbled with Arubesh, pillows for seats, a table covered with lunch items, a bookshelf with books in old, tattered binding, and three wooden swords buckled to a support beam. His eyes swept without a twitch of his head, a trait Rey imagined he had learned as a child learning the ways of the Mandalore.

'I have been informed that my son would not join us for supper tonight,' He told her, twitching his chin to look at her. 'You would honour us by helping us combat waste.'

From behind him, Saron shuffled into view, his helmet turning upwards to his father, palms out to his sides in askance.

Rey couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the boy, but also knew that it was the Shads' way of offering an olive branch on his behalf for the disrespect he had given her.

'I would be honoured to dine at your table, Mr. Shad,' Rey told him. 'Thank you.'

Mr. Shad moved his eyes to his right, an eyebrow rising slowly. 'Have you something to say, boy?' He growled, his stature focused on Rey.

Saron tilted his helmet to the side, something Rey had come to know as him rolling his eyes. 'A message has come for Master Skywalker,' He answered. 'It's labelled as urgent from General Dameron.'

Rey started, taking a half step back. 'What? When did this come in?'

'Today, I think.' Saron answered.

Rey blinked, then turned to Sennic. 'Finish your meal, then attend your Mando'a lessons. If you finish and I'm not back, then go help your father tear down his stall for the night.' She turned to Mr. Shad who had tucked his thumbs into his belt, waiting to be addressed. 'I shall see you and your family tonight.'

'We won't wait for you to finish your business,' He assured her, issuing his best smirk.

Rey bowed to him again, brining Sennic with her, before following Mr. Shad out the tent and walking alongside Saron.

'What did the message say?' She asked, peering down at him.

'I'm not sure, Master Skywalker, 'Saron told her. 'It was encrypted. Needed your thumb to play.'

'Did it really?' Rey frowned, the two of them nearing the edge of the training grounds to where the Millennium Falcon and various other spacecraft were parked.

'I tried to hack it, but given that it was Republic encryption, I thought it better to just come and get you.'

'Appreciate the effort, Saron.' Rey smiled, 'But a better decision was made.'

He shrugged and continued in silence, his helmet issuing a hiss of a sigh as he looked to the watering trough that he would have to refill in a few hours to keep the interior of the ship clean.

Rey trotted up the ramp, skipping over the wet splotches and inhaling the fatty smell of homemade soap mixed with what few ship chemicals the Mandalorians had. He had done a decent job scrubbing off the years of neglected muck on the walls. It wasn't it's pristine white, but it was certainly less brown. Rey entered the cockpit, noting where Saron had stopped cleaning and started snooping, and sealed the door. Sure enough, waiting for her on the dashboard was a blinking blue light signalling an incoming message. Rey touched it, holding out her right thumb before the message could even ask for it.

A light blue beam shot out, pulsing three times before forming the image of General Poe Dameron. His hair was still a mess, but at least he had trimmed it. He wore fitted trousers and fashionable boots, a nicer white shirt that was at once too fancy for him and just right, and a fitted jacket that hung down to his knees. He appeared to be playing the role of a general relieved from war, but Rey still saw the blaster poking out from beneath the jacket.

'This message is from General Poe Dameron of the Army of the New Republic for Master Jedi Rey Skywalker,' He began. At once, Rey felt her finger twitch for the off button. 'Rey,' He continued, 'Please don't hang up!'

Rey snorted, flexing her forefinger but letting him continue.

'Look I – I know that words were said at our last meeting. Words that… well, that probably shouldn't have been said in that moment.'

Not an apology, Rey thought, chewing on her cheek.

'But I am contacting you not as a friend but as a General of the New Republic.'

'Friend?' Rey growled.

'The New Republic is trying to re-establish connections with the systems formerly of the galactic senate before the war. What we are trying do is create a trade route safe for merchants of all races and nationalities to get across the galaxy safely. The problem that we are facing, however, is that the remnants of the First Order are either intercepting these emissaries or are bullying systems into keeping them from siding with the New Republic. The existing senate has convened and, well, your name came up.'

'Of course, it did,' Rey grumbled.

'The Jedi are peace keepers, no - balancers!' He grinned at his revelation, shifting his weight. Rey thought he looked like a child watching a sea lion bounce a ball on his nose. 'The Jedi can bring balance to the galaxy, help the emissaries come home, successful or not. And…' He shifted again, looking away from the recording beam. 'And, we miss you, Rey. It's been, what? Five years since you've come to Naboo, at least three since Finn's heard from you? How long are you going to be mad at us?'

Rey narrowed her look, but the image of Poe scoffed and apologized, waving away his last words.

'Look, we -Finn, Rose, and myself- we miss you.' He looked into the camera, and morphed his face into his best smoulder. 'Please, come home.' He stepped back, and straightened. 'This message will inform us if you have received it the moment you put your thumb to scan. Please say that you'll come. This is General Poe Dameron signing off.'

Rey felt a stream of bitterness slither down her core. Of course they missed her! Of course they would insist Naboo was her home! They were wrong, and only Finn had apologized for it if only to see her regularly again. Only, she hadn't contacted him in… three years? She didn't think it had been that long! How many times had she gone to Exegol since mending that fence? She turned to the side, thinking. Three times! It had been three visits to Exegol since she had last spoken to Finn.

She inhaled through her nose, and let it out in a slow, heated breath. The Force zinged around her the moment she pushed her buns into the back rest, her arms crossing over her stomach.

Go.

She inhaled the word, felt it surge through her core. Go, the Force repeated. Rey's nostrils flared, her hot breath churning that last fight with Poe until it nestled like an egg inside her ribs, ready to crack. She did miss Finn now that it had been pointed out to her. And Rose! She missed having another girl to talk to. Of course the Professor was a woman and she and Rey got along swimmingly, it was just that the Professor was a Mandalorian woman, and one quite older than Rey (or at the very least had more life experience than her). Rose was just right, if not a bit too firm in her political beliefs.

Rey moved her hands to the armrests and gripped them, knowing her answer. She would go, and she would talk to Sennic's parents about taking him with her. He needed to learn the more practical skills of the Jedi, things she could only teach as they came up. She blinked, and the Force grabbed her, causing her to stumble in her seat.

Rey walks through the desert, completely calm. She has only her lightsabre and a canteen filled with limitless water. She walks alone, towards a destination only the Force can reveal. She is on a journey only she can walk.

She gasped and leaned forward, shoulders rising and falling quickly, and her eyes bulging.

'Are you alright, Master Skywalker?' Saron's voice called, his tone one of concern.

Rey lifted a hand and waved it, not caring if the boy understood her meaning. She swallowed, eyes taking in the control panel of her beloved ship.

As of this moment, Sennic was no longer her student.

SWSWSW

Rey had washed her face and wore a clean shirt as she walked to the Shad compound. Upon arriving back at her apartment, she found her blaster belt polished and her blaster had been disassembled and cleaned, either by Sennic or the Professor she wasn't sure, but it prompted her to make an effort into her appearance for dinner. She had taken mercy upon Saron, and upon leaving the Millennium Falcon left him a bushel of apples with the direction of storing them for her journey to Naboo. It would show his character as a developing Mandalorian if he didn't eat a single one. Or simply his foolishness as a child if he thought to hide one and eat it in his room where his father might find the core.

She knocked on the door, inhaling the smell of charcoal, onions, and what could have been roasting grains or chicken or both. The door opened, almost causing Rey to start. She was used to Mrs. Shad's cat-like footsteps that couldn't usually be heard. Mrs. Shad wore her hair cut close to the nape of her neck with long wisps sprouting from the top of her head to almost cover her hazel eyes. She also wore a loose fitting shirt that hung down to her knees and cut in an uneven line so that her need to wear a skirt or dress was eliminated. Her trousers were tight, and were stained with juice from local vegetables and passed meals.

Mrs. Shad smiled widely, her eyes warm when she chirped, 'Welcome, Master Skywalker!'

'It is an honour to be here, Mrs. Shad,' Rey told her, bowing.

'Come in, come in!' Mrs. Shad beckoned, waving her inside. 'Dinner is almost ready.' She led Rey through her home without much more spoken. Rey always liked seeing the family home. The first room was the one where they dined and played evening games, and put up guests to their home. The next room was the kitchen that could be sectioned off to form the bathing room with a closet for a privy. Beyond that was the master chamber that was sectioned off to be Sennic's room with what Rey thought to be a cleaning closet expanded more to fit a bed and walking room serving as Saron's room where he could unmask in peace.

Rey came to a stop in the front room, her attention drawn, as it always was, to the main ornamental piece. They weren't purchased as some would buy flower vases, or statues, but they were removed and set there for their community -and most importantly their sons- to see. Two beskar steel adult helmets, scratched and bumped, rested on a cut alcove possibly for household gods, their noses inches from touching. Rey had seen them at least a dozen times before, but they intrigued her just as much now as when she first saw them.

To be together, Amlag and Takara Shad abandoned the way of the Mandalore.

Rey moved closer to them, noting that the helmets hadn't a single speck of dust on their surface, a difficult task given the fickle Tatooine sands.

Mrs. Shad entered the room, her footsteps quick if not quiet. 'Still intrigued?' She grinned.

'Of course,' Rey answered, turning her body but not her head. 'Is there a ceremony?' She asked, facing her. 'When you decide to remove your helmets, is there an official ceremony like in a wedding or is it done in private?'

'It depends,' Mrs. Shad answered. 'We didn't really have a choice. We were hungry after our wedding and so it seemed silly to put our helmets back on again.' She chuckled, then added, 'We did it in private, though. We went away from our guests and removed our helmets before each other. It really is something when you go an entire working relationship, then courtship without having seen your partner's face. I hoped he wouldn't be ugly, but… when he removed his helmet, I didn't care.'

Rey watched her face melt in memory, a sting pressing down on her own ribs. Amlag could have been an alien of an entirely different species to a human, and she wouldn't have cared. She loved him enough to abandon the way of the Mandalore, and so did he.

'You are,' Rey told her, searching for the words, 'Truly fortunate, Mrs. Shad.'

Mrs. Shad looked up only to narrow her look. 'Master Skywalker,' She warned.

Rey chuckled, 'Takara.'

'That's better,' Mrs. Shad smirked, the waved her to come into the kitchen.

The Shads, as all Mandalorians, were hard wired into upmost formality. They did not call Rey by her given name because of the service she provided for their youngest son, always 'Master Skywalker.' The first few times Rey visited the home, she had been directed to sit in the dining room, her plate always served first and without accompaniment whilst the family watched her eat. Sennic had told her that this was because Mandalorians were so used to eating alone and in private where no one could see their faces. A gentle word to his parents got them to eat with their guest. Another gentle word from Rey and she was invited into the kitchen to watch Mrs. Shad prepare the family meal.

'How are Sennic's studies?' Mrs. Shad asked over her shoulder, stepping behind a wooden counter crammed with dinner items.

'He's doing well,' Rey told her. 'He's a hard study, and an excellent shot. He will prove to be a textbook Jedi if he keeps it up.'

A pang of ice ran straight through her. She shifted in her seat watching Mrs. Shad continue spooning grains into a serving bowl. She didn't stop, she didn't even act like she heard Rey. Rey inhaled, and looked away.

Sennic had expressed interest to his parents about taking the Creed.

'Do you like roots?' Mrs. Shad asked, holding up a handful of purple roots freshly pulled from the family garden.

'Oh, yes!' Rey grinned, feigning ignorance.

'I've never known you to say no,' Mrs. Shad smiled, setting the handful down into the wet bowl. 'You said you grew up on Jakku? No wonder you're so skinny. Improper nourishment.'

'Unfortunately, yes,' Rey sighed. 'I had to scavenge for every scrap of food I got. And well, as a child, you don't really know what needs getting.'

'How horrible!' Mrs. Shad replied, her voice completely contradictory to her face. Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows knitted with something that could only be described as sorrow, but her voice was completely even, unfazed. 'Your mother didn't feed you?'

'I don't remember much of my mother,' Rey told her, wilting into her seat. 'I've, tried. I really have over the passed few years, but… I-I just can't seem to remember her. She and my father were forced to sell me to keep me safe. It seems horrible, but, I-I…' She lifted a hand and touched her forehead, 'I know why they did it.'

Mrs. Shad straightened, her eyes doing the work of her face. 'You are truly blessed to have such a sight. Many would love to know the reason behind their parents' actions towards them.'

Rey half smiled, 'Trust me, sometimes the imagination is better than the reality.'

The door slid open and the sounds of stamping feet echoed throughout the small house. Mr. Shad walked in, the layers of overcoat draped over his arm and dripping sand onto the cleaner floor. 'Master Skywalker,' He greeted with a curt nod.

Rey stood and bowed, 'Amlag.'

'Hi, Master Skywalker!' Sennic chirped, scampering inside. He was covered in dust from the ride back from the market, prompting his mother to give a slight protest before he disappeared into his room to change clothes and sponge off a bit before their meal.

'How was my good son, today?' Amlag asked, returning from his own bedroom with a damp washcloth.

'He was well,' Rey told him. 'While I have the two of you, I have something I wanted to discuss.'

The Shads froze, both sets of knees dipping ever so slightly into a fighting stance.

Rey continued, 'I received a transmission today from the New Republic. They need my help and I shall be leaving tomorrow. I… I'm not sure for how long.'

Mrs. Shad's chin dipped, but Mr. Shad merely said, 'Oh?'

'Yes,' Rey told him. Then, inhaled. 'I was wondering if I might take Sennic with me. He's come a long way in his studies, but the way of the Jedi is best taught hands on, in situation. He wouldn't be put in any sort of danger, but he would be prepared if it came to it-'

'No,' Both Shads said at once.

Rey knew that they wouldn't let him, but it still hurt to hear it. 'I can assure you, this is the best way-'

'We will not allow our son to leave for such a time, at his age,' Mrs. Shad declared. 'He's a child.'

'I-I can't wait until he's older, Takara.' Rey protested. 'These lessons, they must be taught-'

'This is the way,' They declared, both rising to stand at attention.

Rey mashed her lips, and dipped her chin.

'Such is the Way of the Mandalore, and the Jedi respect it.'

SWSWSW

'It's the environment,' The Professor declared, shifting her knitting needles in her fingers, 'You shouldn't have chosen a student among the Mandlore.'

'I don't choose them,' Rey corrected, frowning at her own knitting. 'He was strong in the Force. That called to me.'

'Hmph,' The Professor replied. 'Well, you know how to mentor a student now.'

'That's true,' Rey sighed. 'It's still disappointing.'

'No, it's not,' The Professor grunted, turning her work. 'What's disappointing is dedicating your life to teaching a student who shows all the potential to becoming a great Mandalorian, only to have him remove his helmet to the first being that bats their eyelashes at him.'

'That's happened to you?' Rey asked, abandoning her tangling work.

'It's happens to every teacher of the Way,' The Professor sighed, turning her helmet to her. 'And the same student wonders why they cannot return to the Way. You break the Creed, you cannot return. You can make an honest living, but be careful with whom you make that living with. Not one of those former students ever stayed with the fickle lashed. This is the way.'

'Such is the way of the Mandalore,' Rey muttered. 'The Shads stayed together,' She sighed, looking at their apartment.

'The Shads were model Mandalorians,' The Professor told her, also turning to the apartment. 'Takara Shad was one of the deadliest sharp shooters I've ever seen. Even when a Crolute blinded her left eye, she was still a deadly gunner.'

'And Amlag?'

'I didn't really know Amlag until they began courting. From what I could tell, he was a brawler. Liked getting up close to his prey and using his hands. We knew him as the Nebula when he wore the mask. He once used a cluster of nebula gas to hide him and his bounty from another hunter. Never seen that one before, or since. That was his signet until he unmasked. The Nebula.'

Rey looked at the apartment, her heart aching, then turned back to her knitting. From somewhere, someone began clinking something loud. Much like a blacksmith at their forge. The only problem was, it was late and the clinking sound was rather annoying. The Professor shook her head and extended a gloved hand and guided her needles to fixing the mess she had just made.

'There you go,' The Professor assured her. 'Patience and repetition. Like any good study.'

Rey smiled and continued knitting, the sounds of the children playing in the torchlight calling around them despite the annoying clanging of the blacksmith. Rey had suggested playing cards or even holochess when she and the Professor met in the evenings, but the Professor saw this as a form of combat (another Mandalorian formality) and suggested teaching Rey to knit instead. Though Rey often regarded knitting as a form of combat especially when the stitches seemed to have a mind of their bloody own, it was peaceful, and she got a warm scarf out of it.

From down the street, the small figure of Saron Shad shuffled into view. His poor body looked so tired! He didn't turn when the kick ball nearly took off his helmet, and he slapped the front door button of his house to let him in.

'I would inspect your ship for leftover items before you go,' The Professor purred, continuing with her knitting though her eyes must have been watching Saron.

'I have to leave early,' Rey told her. 'I'd rather it dry out tonight and if there's anything left, I'll put it away myself.'

'If you're sure,' The Professor replied.

The clinking was really getting annoying. 'I'm sure,' Rey told her. 'Goodness, why is the blacksmith working at this hour?'

The Professor stopped her knitting and looked at Rey. 'The blacksmith?'

'Can't you hear the banging?' Rey asked, clicking her needles to the sound of the clanging. Tap! Tap! Tap!

The Professor didn't move. 'Master Skywalker, the blacksmith has gone to Mos Eisley for three days. Even if he returned this afternoon, the forge would take some time to heat to the appropriate degree. And the Armorer hasn't any beskar to craft even if you could hear her forge from this distance.'

The clanging continued in Rey's head. She gasped, looking around for the sound. She issued a sort of dismissal to the Professor, wrapping her work around her needles and grabbing her ball of yarn before heading off towards the sound. It was near her apartment, drawing her between the buildings to the desert. She stopped, the breath leaving her body. She felt her knitting fall, the yarn rolling to who cared where.

That workshop was not there this morning! There was no way it could have been set up in one day, not with that forge, and not with that heavy clay oven.

The man who hammered away at the work table had his back to her and beat a strip of metal with precise strokes. He was tall, and had long, shaggy hair that hung passed his shoulders. His muscles bulged, carved from hours of hammering away and lifting heavy pieces of metal, and with the slight breeze she could smell his strong odour. He set down his hammer, and took the glowing piece of metal from the work table and tossed it into a wooden barrel filled with water so that the white steam hissed and floated around him. He leaned back and sighed, taking a gloved hand and wiping his face with it.

Rey's chest sputtered, reminding her she needed to breathe. She didn't dare say his name. She didn't want to say anything lest it break the moment and take him from her. He had a profession! He had a life that he built with his bare hands! She clamped a hand over her lips, willing herself not to cry out, or to cry at all.

He dropped his hand, shoulders panting. Then, he stopped, and twitched his head towards her. Slowly, he began to turn towards her. At once, butterflies attacked Rey's throat, but still she said nothing. She would wait to see him, wait for him to come to her. He halted, keeping his chin from turning and taking her in. He panted, his chest rising and falling in exaggerated huffs. He knew she was there. He knew, and yet didn't turn. Rey swallowed, realizing what he was doing. He wanted to stay in that moment, too. He wanted to stay with her for a moment longer. He pulled off his work glove and lifted the clean hand backwards toward her, reaching into the nothingness with trembling fingers.

Rey dropped her hand from her chin and reached out for him, too. She could have closed the distance, she could have run to him, whirled him around, and held him tight. But she knew, the moment she touched him that he would be gone. So, they stood there her in the sand he in his shop, arms extended, knowing that the other was alive, and that they wanted the other back.

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