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Sabine isn’t sure which thing is worse, because the list of Things That Suck is starting to get long. For starters, being separated from Ezra again. That hurt the most. In second place, being stuck with Huyang in Peridea is getting on her nerves. The third thing is the lack of caff in Peridea (she drank the reserves they brought within the first few weeks), which at first made her so tired, but then it kinda fixed her sleep schedule, so it’s not that terrible. She’ll take any wins she can at this point.
Sabine had to stick to drinking tea made from fruit tree leaves that the Noti brewed. It tastes alright, she’s just not used to it. The Noti also make an alcohol distilled from berries that smells incredible, but she had to pass it up. Not only because it would distract her from her Jedi training, but also because if the slight bloating and nausea she’s been experiencing is anything to go by, she won’t be able to have a drink for a while. For at least nine months.
She didn’t dare say anything to Ashoka for a couple of months. Sabine didn’t want to needlessly worry her master without any concrete proof. But now that her period is very late, she’s pretty sure. Because Sabine is never late. A day or two maybe, not entire weeks. And given what happened in the pod (the same pod she’s been sleeping in almost every night since the very first night she got here, of course), there’s only one logical explanation. She had to gather up the courage to tell Ashoka.
Sabine headed to the lake. Ashoka considered the place a perfect meditation spot.
“I’m late,” Sabine informed her. No use in sugar-coating it, she just went straight to the point.
Ashoka looked up with a confused expression, like she wasn’t sure what her padawan was up to and she’s afraid to ask. “You’re on time for training.”
“No, not that kind of late.” Sabine chipped at her nail polish with her nails as she sat down beside her master. “The time-of-the-month kind of late.”
Ahsoka was quiet for a moment, searching for something in Sabine’s eyes. “How late?”
“More than three weeks.”
“And is there any possibility that you’re…?” Ashoka trailed off, knowing Sabine would get what she meant.
Sabine nodded silently.
Ashoka seemed to do the math in her head. “You were alone with Ezra for two days,” she stated.
“A lot of opportunities in two days,” Sabine remarked. “Well, one night.”
Ahsoka finally lost her composure. The Togruta chuckled so hard that she titled her head back. Sabine joined her, because what else was she supposed to do? It was pretty funny.
“I’m sorry, this is serious,” Ashoka apologized between chuckles. “It’s just… You spend a decade apart and then get together one time and—”
“It was, uh—multiple times, actually,” Sabine corrected because she felt the need to clarify. This did not dissuade Ashoka’s amusement at all.
Minutes later, when Ashoka regained her stoic Jedi composure and assured her everything will be fine, they headed for the T-6 to look for Huyang. He might be an architect droid, specialized in constructing lightsabers. However, Huyang’s also an expert in combat and Jedi training. Plus, at this point he’s probably the largest—and only—Jedi archive. And fortunately for them, he’s also qualified for basic medical assistance. Not as equipped as a medical droid, but with enough knowledge to serve as one if the situation requires it. Which this situation definitely does.
At first, Huyang complained about it being an "inconvenient environment for reproductive health", but then he congratulated Sabine and he seemed thrilled at the idea of soon training a “real padawan”.
“Thanks for your unwavering support, Huyang,” Sabine deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You’re welcome, Lady Wren,” he replied in full earnest.
Sabine guessed that, for droids, the knowledge of thousands of years doesn’t always translate to proper communication skills.
Huyang thoroughly checked Sabine’s health and deemed her pregnancy safe and healthy, so that eased their minds a little. Without even being asked to, he designed a meal plan with macros and everything. The droid had a funny way of caring for the Worst Padawan that Ever Lived.
By the third month of pregnancy, her armor didn’t fit. Mandalorian armorers sometimes welded the armor to accommodate the baby bump, but without the proper tools, Sabine’s armor had to stay tucked away in a drawer. Her lightsaber, however, did not. It was a relief that the threat the orange lightsabers posed was dealt with before she couldn’t properly reach her toes.
By the last quarter of the pregnancy, they mostly worried about finding a way back home. With no further advancements, it soon became evident that Sabine would have to give birth in Peridea. Sabine wasn’t too scared by the idea, not much more than she’d be back in Lothal, since there was no sign of complications and they had—or could make—all the resources they needed.
Sabine had been there for Jacen’s birth, and by the way Hera lit up by seeing him for the first time, she knew that all the blood, sweat and tears were gonna be worth it.
“Have you thought about names?” Ahsoka asked one day during training. Force training, that is. Physical training looked more like stretching nowadays.
“Yeah, a lot,” Sabine replied, after successfully, albeit slowly, levitating a cup without spilling its contents. Still shaky, but progress is progress.
“Nice work. And how is that going?” Ahsoka prompted from beside the table. She was practicing lightsaber forms.
“I don’t know. I got a list of names, but none of them sound quite right.”
Ahsoka pondered carefully, a sweet tone in her voice when she asked, “Do you know how your mother picked yours?”
“Old family name. Ancestor from like five hundred years ago. The one who originally forged my armor, actually. But I don’t have old, rusty armors to pick from.”
“Is the tradition only Mandalorian centered, or can you pick a name from Ezra’s side of the family?
“Oh,” Sabine said when she managed to put the cup back on the table without it tilting sideways. Only a few drops of water spilled. “Not a bad idea.”
“You remember Ezra’s parents' names?”
“Ephraim and Mira. Not a big fan of Ephraim as a name, though. No offense.”
“So if it’s a girl, it could be Mira. Any other names?”
“I don’t know his family tree. But… it could be—it could be Caleb.”
Ashoka beamed at the recognition of the name. A bright smile appeared on her lips, which also reached her eyes. “I think Ezra would like that.”
Sabine picked up the cup, this time with her hand, and took a sip. “I think he’d pick a ridiculous name, actually.”
“Good thing he’s not here, then.”
Sabine chuckled. “Don’t say that. I miss him.”
Ahsoka put a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “I know you do. Now go again,” she instructed.
When the time finally came, after all the screaming and the pushing and the crying, Huyang cut the umbilical cord and informed, “It’s a girl.”
Ahsoka squeezed Sabine’s hand two times before letting go. She handed a blanket to Huyang, the one the Noti had sown especially for this occasion. They didn’t know much about pregnancy, given that their species lays eggs. But they did know about taking care of babies, which will surely come in handy.
Huyang covered the baby with the blanket and handed her to Sabine. They were both soaked in waters, sweat and a bit of blood, but it was as perfect as Sabine imagined this moment would be. Even the cries of her child were a relief, for that meant her baby girl is healthy.
Her own flesh and blood, the fruit of her love safely cocooned in her arms. Sabine Wren was no longer the last of her line, but the first Mandalorian of a new age. The ashes had been burned, and here rose the starbird with wings of fire and a trail of starlight in her wake.
“Hi, Mira,” came the teary eyed first calling of the name. She spoke it like a prayer.
“Hi, Mira,” Ahsoka echoed, then laid a gentle kiss on her padawan's forehead. “You did good, Sabine.”
She smiled. “I know.”
Sabine tried to not fret about the rest of her family and how much she missed them. The one that is gone, and the one that is fighting a galaxy away because of her. Instead, she tried to count her blessings and be thankful for the family she has here. Whatever the Force had in store for her, she felt ready to face her fate.
It was three months later that the Force granted her another blessing for a second time, the one she’d been seeking for over a decade.
His curls, shorter than she last saw them, swayed in the wind in the vast fields of Peridea. When their eyes met again, there were as many sparks as the last time, if not more now.
Sabine doesn’t know who called the other’s name first, but she is sure Ezra ran to her first. Sabine did the same, at a slower pace as to not disturb Mira, who was peacefully sleeping on her back. The baby carrier the Noti helped her stitch up was the best invention she’d seen since detonable explosives.
“Hi, Sabine. Sorry it took me so long.”
Ahsoka and Huyang were watching them from a distance. They were not approaching. Instead, they were giving the lovebirds some privacy, which Sabine appreciated. Ezra waved at Ahsoka and Huyang before returning his attention back to Sabine.
Before she had a chance to reply, Ezra cupped her face in his hands and captured her lips. Short and sweet, but from now on she won’t accept a greeting from him that isn’t followed by a kiss.
“It’s okay, I knew you’d be back,” she muttered, only inches apart from his mouth. “It took me way longer to find you, I can’t complain too much, can I? Especially with such a warm welcoming.”
Ezra let out a small laugh, and Sabine could feel his warm breath against her lips. “Anytime.”
Mira’s stirring in her back reminded Sabine of her presence. Her smile grew wider. This was going to be fun.
“Oh, there’s someone you have to meet,” Sabine said, trying to not give her excitement away.
Ezra looked intrigued. He saw no one else around. The whole deal of Peridea is that there’s no one friendly here, except the Noti, and he already knew them, so it wasn’t them.
Sabine was thankful that Ahsoka and Huyang were away, because as much as she’d love for them to see Ezra’s reaction up close, she wanted to keep this moment for only the three of them.
Sabine turned to her side and started taking off the baby carrier, unfolding the cloth. Ezra’s eyes widened like Lothal’s full twin moons. He let out a muffled sound of surprise.
Sabine handed Mira to him. “Be careful with her neck,” was her only warning.
Despite his shock, Ezra was quick to reach out to hold Mira. Easy and natural, but strong and firm like he’d done it a thousand times already. The sight of them together melted Sabine’s heart. Ezra looked down at Mira like she was the most wonderful thing he has ever seen—as he should. Sabine naturally shared the feeling, and seeing them together for the first time only added to the beauty of the sight.
“How—did you—is she—”
“Yes, I gave birth to her here, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sabine replied, her tone teaseful as ever.
“And she’s—who—who’s the father?” Ezra finally managed to voice the question.
Sabine shot him an annoyed glare like he’d just stepped on her foot, but her side smirk revealed her amusement. “Seriously, Ezra? Do the math.”
A beat of silence. Sabine could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“Is it me?” Ezra asked, his electric blue eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Of course, Ezra.” Sabine briefly closed the distance to give him a peck on the cheek. “Who else would be the father?” She scoffed. “I don’t see any other handsome men around.”
Ezra seemed equally flattered and sheepish by that comment. “I don’t know—I didn’t want to assume. Could’ve been before we, you know…”
Sabine chuckled. “The statement still stands.”
Ezra grinned. “Oh.”
If he wasn’t holding their baby, Sabine was sure he’d use one of his hands to nervously rub his neck. Rather, he looked at his daughter and she looked back up at him. Ezra tried to map the constellations in her pretty little eyes, a shade of bright cerulean just like his. Her hair is light brown, just like her mother’s natural color.
Mira reached out a hand to her father’s short trimmed beard, and she appeared to like the texture. Needless to say, watching the love of her life holding the light of her life in his arms was the most adorable thing Sabine had ever seen.
“What are you gonna ask me next?” she said, breaking out of the haze, the teasing back on. “If we’re more than friends?”
Ezra had a guilty expression that confirmed to Sabine that it was basically what he was about to ask. “No, that’s my third question. My second question is, what’s her name?”
“Mira,” Sabine announced, full of pride. “Still haven’t decided if she’s gonna be Mira Wren-Bridger or Mira Bridger-Wren. I wanted your opinion on that.”
The happy tears that had been glossing his eyes finally fell. “Mira,” he repeated, voice strained but full of love. Ezra looked like he wanted to say a million things, but he had no idea where to start. So he settled on saying, “She’s perfect.”
“That was my first thought, too.”
Mira cooed like she understood the compliment. Then, she tugged at her dad’s beard some more.
“So…” Ezra began. “As for the third question…”
Sabine rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh?”
“Are we—how does the Mandalorian thing work?”
“Normally, we’d say the vows,” Sabine explained. “But I feel like we already kept true to all of the vows, so…”
“So?” Ezra repeated.
She gave him a smug smile. “I think we can just skip to the married kissing part.”
Ezra huffed out a laugh and obliged. It was slow, but it didn’t last long because it’s difficult to kiss with a baby between them. Also, Sabine couldn’t wait to get out of here. This planet wasn’t nearly as awful with Ezra and Mira in it, but still, she’s had enough of Peridea.
They weren’t running to or from anyone this time, so the ride back wasn’t as perilous. However, they had a long journey ahead of them, and not just the trip back to their home galaxy. War and love and parenthood are all battlefields in their own right, if you ask a Mandalorian.