Summary:
On the outside, Thrawn comes off as confident, arrogant, and unshakable. On the battlefield, he is. But its no secret that when faced with relationships, Thrawn stumbles. It'd always been a problem for him. His own people had found him odd and irritating. But now he is in the empire, where he's hated before he even opens his mouth, and his true struggle begins. How is he supposed to report back to the Ascendency when he can't even get through a conversation without offending someone or making an accidental enemy? At least at home he'd had allies if not friends... how was he to get through this entirely alone? An exploration of Thrawn's process of making friends, building relationships, and even love in a terrifying, unfamiliar environment: The Imperial Navy.
Notes:
Thanks so much for reading! There will be spoilers for Timothy Zahn's novels and the Rebels show. I wanted to write a Thrawn romance without it being Thranto, simply to explore pushing Thrawn beyond his comfort zone: Eli. I'll be exploring Thrawn's experiences moving through the Navy from cadethood to beyond his disappearance in Rebels. I have no outline, so even I don't know where he'll end up! Please review.
"I am alright, I assure you," Thrawn pressed, but Eli continued to support his weight regardless.
"You're not alright, you're banged up pretty badly."
One of the other cadets had taken a cheap shot at Thrawn in sparring. It was harmless, but ended up being far less so when his stumble had him elbow and shatter one of the room's windows, cutting his arm. Thrawn just wanted to go back to their quarters and patch it up himself, along with wrapping his freshly sprained ankle. Once the dojo's medic said they were 'booked' somehow, eyeing Thrawn with disgust, he decided he'd do it himself. But Eli was determined, his rage fueling his search for the medic on the other side of campus.
"I've suffered far worse, its a minor injury-" Thrawn assured him, but Eli shook his head.
"Its the principle, Thrawn, and besides, you don't know how minor it is for sure."
Thrawn wasn't new to injury, but remained quiet. Eli was the only person that cared if Thrawn was wounded, he didn't want to chase that away. Not after the weeks of hatred he'd endured.
"There it is," Eli said, adjusting his hold on Thrawn's torso. Eli set Thrawn down in the chair by the window, approaching the desk. "Excuse me, my friend here got hurt in a training accident."
The man looked over at him, his eyes narrowing. "I'll see if the doctor is still here."
He walked away, and Thrawn could see Eli's face heat up, his fists clenched. He expected the same response Thrawn did.
The man returned, sitting with a cool expression. "The doctor has gone so we're closed for the evening. Your friend will be fine until morning."
Eli slammed his hand on the counter, "He has glass shards in his arm!"
The man didn't look at Thrawn again, "Cadet, I am not a doctor, your attempt is as good as mine. Come back tomorrow."
Thrawn could hear several people conversing behind the closed waiting room door, some of which had an air of arrogance and sophistication. Probably the doctors.
"You listen-"
"Vanto."
He turned to Thrawn. "Let's return to our quarters, yes?"
Thrawn's tired tone left little room for argument.
"I'm not through with you," he spat, hefting Thrawn to his feet a little too aggressively, making him wince.
"The nerve of those people…"
Thrawn was growing tired and sore, his leg pounding. It felt like hours before they'd reached the common room of their residence building. It was fairly late, and few if any students would pass through. Eli pulled the common room first aid kit from the wall, opening it.
"The glass, start with the glass." Thrawn said, watching Eli. He found a pair of tweezers, swallowing nervously.
"Look, I can't promise I won't push it in further. I've never exactly done this."
Thrawn watched him, "I trust you, besides, what other choice do we have?"
Eli looked down at the tweezers nervously, and the woman at the table before the vending machines looked over.
"I don't mean to intrude, but I can help."
They look up, and she blinked, "I'm a med student."
Eli looks at Thrawn, who inclines his head. "Please."
Eli moves and she kneels down before him, digging through the first aid kit Eli had located. Something in Thrawn warmed. She was so willing to help… she didn't even bat an eye.
"What's hurting?"
"I believe I have sprained my ankle, as well as cut my arm on broken glass."
She nodded, untying and pulling his boot and his sock from his foot with ease. She tilted it around, feeling the tendons with her slender fingers.
"I don't believe your ankle is broken," she said, placing his foot on her thigh to wrap it with the first aid kit's bandage. He felt odd, his foot on her. It was strangely informal for someone he'd just met. But perhaps it'd just felt that way since she was a fellow student and not a doctor as he expected.
"That's good news," he said blankly, watching her.
She wrapped his ankle with tight precision.
"Now the arm."
He nodded.
She cut his sleeve with the scissors, rolling it up around his shoulder. The deep cut, marred with shards of glass, ran from just above his elbow to his palm.
"Would you be comfortable with me following you to your quarters? I think lying down would make this easier for both of us."
Thrawn put out his hand for Eli to pull him onto his feet, "certainly."
She followed them, Thrawn limping agonizing slow. Eli pushed open the door and Thrawn limped to his bunk, sitting. Luckily the bunks were staggered, allowing him to sit up without hitting his head on Eli's bunk above him.
"Why don't you lie down on your stomach so I can see it all at once."
Thrawn complied, grateful to be lying down. Eli pulled over their chair, the desk lamp on top so she could see. She used the cover of the first aid kit to drop the bloodied glass in, speaking candidly to Eli as she went. Thrawn fisted his blanket in his free hand, trying to remain as still as possible. She stuffed a towel under his arm, probably to catch the fresh glass dripping from the opened wound.
"How are you doing, Thrawn?" She asked, her hand briefly touching his back. It startled him, and he swallowed.
"I am doing fine."
"Good," she said, and Eli kept her talking. He was clearly very interested in this brand of gore, asking questions about what she'd done.
"I believe I've gotten it all, I can't find any more, but if you happen to feel anything later I'll happily remove it."
She didn't wait for a response, squirting a liquid on the wound, pulling the towel up around to catch it.
It burned, Thrawn's vision fogging. He sucked in a breath."
"I know, I'm sorry."
She dabbed it with the towel. "This needs stitches."
Thrawn looked over at her, "are you capable?"
Eli slapped his hand to his forehead. "He means-"
"I can do it, yes," she said, her expression difficult for Thrawn to read.
"I would be grateful."
She looked into the kit.
"The autosealer is something only the med bay would have. I'd have to do it the traditional way."
Thrawn ignored the slight embarrassment that flushed through him. "No doctor will see me, so I trust your abilities."
She frowned, but didn't ask. Eli's grave looked implied that he believed she understood.
She thread the needle, wiping blood from the wound again before beginning to stitch.
Thrawn clenched his teeth. He'd had stitches before, but it never got any easier. She was quick, moving along the wound easily and efficiently. Thrawn gripped the durasteel bar of his bunk in his free hand, his pain tolerance beginning to run its course for the day. After limping around with Eli for over an hour, he wasn't disappointed in himself.
She finished, quickly tying it off and disinfecting it again before smothering some bacta over it.
"Did you hit your head?"
Thrawn passively touched the wound on his forehead. "I did."
She got closer, her green eyes examining the wound. Her proximity allowed him to study her and her features, searching in vain for any tell tale signs of annoyance or even more commonly, disgust.
She wiped it gently with another wipe from the kit, pressing around it with her thumb. It struck pain through Thrawn's skull, and he shut his eyes.
"Sorry," she said quietly, and moved away, shocking Thrawn with the sudden loss of heat.
"I don't think you have any more than a bruise there, but watch out for anything odd like dizziness, nausea, confusion, they could be signs of concussion."
Thrawn lowered his head in understanding. I appreciate your assistance. Truly." He said, sitting up.
She smiled, "I'm happy to help…"
"Thrawn."
"Thrawn," She repeated. "I'm Linnia."
"Eli Vanto," Eli said from beside Thrawn.
"If you have any more trouble don't hesitate, I'm on the fourteenth level, 3B."
"Thank you," Thrawn said, and Eli walked her out.
He spent more time that night than he cared to thinking of the young woman. Linnia. Not one person beyond Eli had shown him any semblance of empathy, and even Eli didn't seem to see just how extraordinarily terrifying this had been for him. He'd only been away from Csilla for three weeks, at the academy for one. He'd never been among outsiders for any extended period prior. He clung entirely to Eli for any hope he had, his lack of understanding in the political and social front proving far more relevant here than he'd anticipated. He was far more than an outsider. He was a nuisance, a stray mark on the reputation of the empire, according to most. A small childish part of him had permitted thoughts of grandeur, of fitting the mold here in the empire. He'd never miscalculated so terribly. He always did when it came to social matters. It was a strategical front he could not get ahead of.
Linnia had shown kindness. She did not stare at him or shy away like others had. He was aware of the bluntness of his blue skin and glowing red eyes in the face of the humans' subtle features. He'd seen enough people cringe or flinch away from him to know. He wasn't a touch driven creature, but with this isolation, he'd never felt so cold.
He thought of seeing her again, just to talk, but faltered. As he knew, he didn't read social situations well. What if she wasn't as kind as she let off? What if she'd been put off by his appearance? He didn't have a way with words like Eli had, no charm or conversational eloquence. He wrapped his arms around himself. No. A social blunder would only bruise his ego further.