A/N: This one's short but sweet. More tomorrow-ish.
Clear
Hera didn't know what she'd expected Ezra and Sabine to be like together after so much time apart, but it wasn't this. Maybe she thought she'd see shades of the two teens who'd lived on the Ghost those long years ago: Sabine stand-offish and Ezra desperately trying to curry favor with her.
She didn't see that at all.
In fact, the two kids she'd mothered were gone, and she hardly recognized the adults before her. Not that she minded; they'd grown into who they were always meant to be, and they were together now.
Well—
The together part was purely speculative, but Hera had a sharp eye, good instincts, and the benefit of personal experience in this particular arena. She was certain Ezra and Sabine were in love with each other. Whether they'd had that conversation themselves, she could only guess. But even if they hadn't, it was undeniable. The sentiment showed plainly in every glance, every small smile, every touch. That in itself was a significant tell; Sabine was not a touchy person, yet she was often close enough to Ezra to lay her hand on his or to let him lightly rest an arm around her shoulders. By no means were they inseparable, but Hera noticed that pull between them. No—it was more than pull. It was need. Quiet, but persistent.
Hera didn't know much about what had filled Ezra's last few years—suspected she never would—but she knew what had filled Sabine's: longing. Sabine had never said so, but silently standing by as Ezra surrendered to Thrawn and then rebuilding Lothal in his absence had taken a toll. Hera guessed pretty early on that Sabine was in love with Ezra and just hadn't realized it—or had realized it too late.
How well Hera understood that burden.
She'd never get Kanan back, but seeing Sabine with Ezra—seeing that renewed spark in the younger woman's eyes—was the next best thing. Her heart ached with happiness for them. Nervousness, too, if she was telling the truth. She imagined that quite a long road lay ahead of them, and she wanted to know that they'd be alright—that they'd handle themselves better than she and Kanan had. Life was too short for anything else.
On the morning of Sabine and Ezra's last day visiting, Hera got an early start, rising with the sun so she could have her caf before she bid an emotional farewell to her two surrogate children. On her way to the kitchen, she nearly bumped into Sabine—who was quietly sneaking out of the spare bedroom where Ezra had been staying. Sabine flushed and Hera's brows rose high.
"You…know that's how I ended up with Jacen, right?" She managed at last, a teasing smile pulling at her mouth.
Sabine nearly choked on her own tongue. "Stars," she gasped. "That's not what—we haven't—not that—" Sabine stopped, made an aggravated sound. "It's—I like knowing he's close by," she blurted. "I sleep better—I am sleeping better than I have in years." She looked up at Hera in near-dismay, shocked by her own, sudden vulnerability.
"Are you alright?" Hera asked seriously. "I mean, really? Both of you?"
Sabine blinked. "If—if we're not, we will be." The answer was soft, but confident.
"You love him." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." Sabine nodded. "I do. And I'll be damned if anything else gets in my way."
Hera smiled, but it was tight. "Does he know?"
"I—" Sabine looked suddenly unsure. "I think so. I've said—what I wanted to say."
"Good." Hera nodded and she squeezed Sabine's hand. "Say it often. Say it loudly. Make it clear."
Sabine faltered. "You—you didn't, did you?"
"No." Hera looked toward her tiny son's room, toward the child given to her by a man she'd loved too little too late. "I don't want that for you."
"I understand."
Sabine stepped away then and Hera murmured after her, "I hope that you do."
