Lugging all that heavy equipment around all day can't be good for Baze's poor back. Luckily his husband gives the best massages.
Basically any scenario (pre-Rogue One, everyone lives AU, doesn't matter) where Baze gets pampered a bit because he's old and tired and deserves love and comfort.
Set post-Scarif, as always sadder than planned, because hey it’s me.
Baze leans his blaster canon against the wall, then strips off the coolant tank with a tired sigh. The tank hits the stone floor with a loud thud that disturbs Chirrut who are meditating on the bed. Baze feels him studying him as he moves to the small portable stove they keep in their room and starts making tea. He trusts the rebel's canteen with many things, but not with tea making.
"You don't have to carry that thing around anymore you know?" Chirrut says."Not while we're on the base."
"I know," Baze replies.
And he does know. He knows that they are safe – as safe as anyone staying at an insurgent HQ in the middle of a civil war can be – that any threat to them that would require him to wield a weapon would be warned in ample time for him to fetch said weapon. Baze knows all of this, but twenty years of ingrained habit and the paranoia born of the harsh rules of survival are hard to shake. So he still carries his assault canon with him around on the base despite the stares it earns him and the fact that it makes his back and shoulder hurt like fire.
He's not as young as he once was.
Picking up the now boiling kettle to pour the water into the two waiting cups Baze raises his other hand and rubs the tired muscles at the back of his aching neck.
A man less accustomed to Chirrut Îmwe's stealthy mode of moving, even when he is not trying to be silent, would not have heard the almost inaudible sound of his feet against the floor. But Baze has known the man since they were seven, so he is not surprised when twin arms wraps themselves around his waist and a nose buries itself in his hair.
Baze lowers the hand from his neck and continues with the tea making, hoping that Chirrut would not have caught the movement but already knowing that he has.
"You should stop carrying that thing," Chirrut mutters, his voice muffled against Baze's shoulder.
"I am strong enough," Baze grumbles in reply.
Chirrut lifts his head so his mouth is right next to Baze's ear.
"It is not about your strength. It hurts you and it is unnecessary."
Baze just sighs. The tea is done, but he is loathed to break Chirrut's embrace. Instead he taps the back of his husband's hand and when Chirrut holds it out, puts one cup against his palm and lets him take it.
Chirrut sips at the tea while keeping one arm around Baze's middle before continuing, "At least pick a light weapon if you do not feel safe enough to go without."
Baze sighs again, this time partly in amusement. Trust Chirrut to cut directly to the heart of the matter.
"It is not so easy," Baze replies. He wonders why it seems to easy for Chirrut to lie down what is almost half a lifetime's worth of vigilance and survival instincts, while he cannot. Maybe there is something to be said for an implicit trust in the Force after all.
"I know," Chirrut says softly, the silence after his words marking a space where Baze knows that he should reply, but he has no words to offer his husband. He hears the soft sigh of acknowledgement that Chirrut gives when it becomes clear that there will be no words from Baze. "Will you at least let me rub your back to work out the strain?" Chirrut asks.
"I never could resist a chance to get your hands on me," Baze replies, accepting Chirrut's offer for the peace offering that it is.
"Then finish your tea, take off your shirt and lie down on the bed." Chirrut places his finished tea cup on the table and walks into the adjoined fresher.
Baze snorts amusedly. It took Chirrut 0,2 seconds to go from concerned to bossy as always. Downing the remainder of the content of his cup Baze too puts it on the table and takes off his shirt as he moves to the bed, tossing it over the back of a chair, before lying down on the bed on his side. He watches in silence as Chirrut comes back into the room, a bottle in his hand.
The sleeveless, black shirt and black pants Chirrut now wears in lieu of a robe, shows off the muscles on is body in a way that Baze appreciates. It reminds him of how Chirrut often dressed when they were younger, back in the temple, before they got together. He would put himself on display in front of Baze every chance he got, something Baze had always enjoyed even before he admitted to himself how he felt about the other Guardian.
"Enjoying the view?" Chirrut asks.
Baze smiles, not at all surprised that Chirrut has in part read his line of thought.
"Do you blame me?"
Chirrut grins, sits down on the edge of the bed and toes off his boots.
"Not in the least, I just wanted to know that's all."
"I enjoy it."
Chirrut's smile softens. "Roll over on your stomach."
Baze follows the order in silence, tensing for a moment as Chirrut settles down, straddling his hips.
"Something wrong?" Chirrut asks.
"Nothing, go on," Baze replies, not wanting to admit how tense his nerves seems to be running today.
The momentary silence that follows makes Baze wonder if Chirrut is going to argue about it, but when he hears the sound of the bottle lid being unscrewed he knows the subject is dropped. For now.
Strong hands, fingertips callused from weapon use and palms anointed in oil, starts to caress the middle of his back, slowly working their way up to his shoulders. Lazily they slid beneath his hair and started working on his neck, skillfully dancing over tense, hard muscles, teasing out the knots made by too great strain held for too long.
Baze sighs deeply, the sound smothered by the pillow his face is buried in, as Chirrut's hands continue their work, meticulously unknotting first Baze's shoulders and then working their way down his back. They skim down his flanks, their touch firm enough not to tickle, before coming to rest on the small of his back.
"Lift up."
Baze obeys without thinking, his mind half dazed and relaxed, and lifts up his hips. Chirrut's hand quickly slides beneath and deftly undoes both belt and buttons, then pulls off his pants, leaving Baze naked. Then he goes to work again, first on the small of Baze's back, continuing down across his ass, and the back of his thighs and skins.
The hands come to rest on his ankles, fingers circling them as they softly stroke the skin.
"Turn over."
Flopping over on his back Baze puts his arms up above his head, stretching his muscles from head til toe. A smile passes his lips when he feels a soft kiss be pressed against one knee, before Chirrut climbs up to straddle Baze's hips again, his hands coming to rest on his stomach.
"Feeling better, my light?" Chirrut asks.
"I do. Thank you."
Chirrut's hands are rubbing small circles on Baze's middle and his eyes begins to drift close again, enjoying the gentle peace of the touch. The hands work their way up his chest, now more a caress than a massage, before finally stopping on his biceps.
Part of Baze feels that he should open his eyes again, say something maybe, but he's too damn comfortable right now to move.
He feels Chirrut lean down and kiss him, as he moves off him and pulls the blankets up to cover him. Baze reaches out an arm and wraps it around Chirrut before he can move away further.
"Stay," he mutters.
"Of course." Chirrut settles down next to him, one hand running through Baze's long hair.
"I'll try," Baze continues after a moment, feeling a need to address Chirrut's earlier point before fully drifting off to sleep.
"Hmm?"
"Try to find a lighter weapon," Baze clarifies.
He doubts he'll feel relaxed enough any time soon to walk around unarmed, but he can promise this much.
Chirrut's lips are pressed against his temple. "Rest," his husband whispers in his ear. "Sleep. I'll keep watch."
With that promise Baze suddenly feels too tired to move or even speak again. With a deep sigh he lets sleep claim him, trusting Chirrut to keep them both safe should the need arise.
Bodhi Rook is a survivor of genocide, a genocide that the Empire committed against his people and culture for years, possibly for as much as two decades - we don’t know exactly when the Empire occupied Jedha and began destroying it, but inferred from the Guardians of the Whill’s novel it was probably not long after RotS.
This is what Bodhi grew up with. On a planet that was occupied by oppressors that was viciously destroying his culture and poisoning his planet. Who was killing his people, either quickly by blaster fire or slowly by working in the mines or just breathing the air that the Empire was increasingly making unbreathable and corrosive to human lungs. And then his only recourse to help his own family survive was to work for them and ignore everything?
Then there’s the fact that he had to profane objects he likely considered deeply sacred. I don’t even know how to begin to describe how terrible such an action feels to people who probably only have Christianity as a point of reference, because in most Christian traditions the concept of scared has been so watered down as to be meaningless.
Bodhi has likely been in a state of simply surviving for his entire life, putting one foot in front of the other and not thinking too closely because it’s not just him, it’s his family too.
But now Jedha is gone. That’s not just his support system, it’s his whole home and his childhood and youth, and so much more. Whether or not his culture will even survive is an open question, depending on so many unknown variables that it is pointless to address here. If it doesn’t he effective rootless and adrift, and even if it does it’ll be deeply affected by the genocide.
As will Bodhi.
What happened to Jedha, not just in Rogue One but has been happening for years, is going to leave deep wounds in his heart and soul. Wounds that may indeed never heal. Wounds that he won’t even begin to know how to deal with. Wounds that therapists won’t know how to help him deal with because how do you assist someone who’s had their roots cut off, who at best can be replanted if his culture can find another place in the galaxy to grown, and then you hope for the best?
In a universe where he lives and finds the time and space to do more than just be in survival mode, Bodhi may legitimately not know how to do that. And even if he finds a way over the years, the mental and emotional scars the Empire left on him - and on every single other Jedha who survived - will last for generations.
One of the most iconic moments in TFA is when Finn tells Han “Solo, don’t worry. We’ll use the Force”. To which Han immediately replies “that’s not how the Force works”.
But I’m wondering. Not only does Finn seem to have a better grasp of how the Force does work, the exchange I think is also used to not so subtly underscore that it seems that the rules of the Force have changed. (And perhaps are going back to how they originally - prior to the Jedi and the Sith - were.)
The title of the movie is literally The Force Awakens. Awakens from what? Some sort of dormancy, otherwise why use the word ‘awakens’.
But for how long and why was it asleep?
Before I go there, let’s talk about the Force as a divine force and how it is portrayed in the OT and PT.
George meant the Force to be the “god” of the Star Wars universe, that ineffable and indescribable something that almost all of us feels now and again, that which is much larger than ourselves and that many take to call god in lack of a better word for it.
While we in our world can and do discuss the reality of the existence of the divine, the Force is very much a reality in the GFFA universe. But in the OT and PT only to the few.
Because in the first two trilogies the Force is viewed and portrayed as being transcendent, that is separate from the physical world and also by the Jedi considered superior (and more important) than the crude material form.
There are some hints that there may once have been an immanent compound in the Force the way Obi-Wan presents it in ANH, but the further along we get in canon the clearer it is that the Force is transcendent, or at least viewed as such.
Fast forward to the ST.
Here we see something different, namely the hints that the Force is immanent. i.e. part of the physical world.
Not only that it now have a religious side it very much lacked before in the creation of the Church of the Force and the Guardians of the Whills. That is, the divine in Star Wars is now not only confined to a clergy (the Jedi, the Sith) but have ordinary adherents.
But there’s more than that.
Here I think it’s important to jump out of universe for a second.
Star Wars was created by George Lucas, a man who identifies as Methodist/Buddhist and in Christianity God is usually seen as transcendent. That is, the divine is out there, separate from our mortal existence.
Not so in Judaism. In Jewish belief G-d is very much part of our world (yes G-d is also transcendent at the same time but I’m trying to keep this as simple as I can). This is relevant because the story of the ST and much of the foundation for the new canon were made by JJ Abrams and Lawrence Kasdan, two Jewish men.
Now as I said the Force being immanent makes everything different. Where a transcendent Force was only really relevant to those who could interact with it through their special training (the “clergy”) when the Force is immanent everyone interacts with it every time they interact with the world.
There is support in the new canon that this is what is happening.
If we take the Aftermath novels there are several examples of where both Norra Wexley and her son Temmin seems to interact with the Force. Same hold true for Ciena Ree in Lost Stars. And then of course there’s Chirrut Imwe in Rogue One who is no Jedi, yet seems to utilize the Force but in a very different fashion than the Jedi did. There’s Maz Kanata who herself says that though she is no Jedi she knows the Force and then goes on to describe it as a light that touches and permeates everything (but without Yoda’s caveats to it).
So what does this mean for Star Wars and the Force further and what was that awakening?
If I address the latter first.
In Judaism the divine is in some ways trapped inside physical matter and the whole point of Judaism is to awaken the divine sparks to transform the physical world. Note here that the point is not to make the immanent transcendent, but to reconnect the two. To mend what was once broken. This is really the core concept - Tikkun Olam, that literally means “heal the world”. Fix what was broken.
So it’s possible that in Star Wars the immanent part of the Force has been dormant and difficult to access. Exactly how long and what happened we don’t know, but I think that the fact that Luke probably went looking for the first Jedi Temple indicates that it predates the PT.
In The Force Awakens, this immanent part of the Force reawakens. And it is reawakened by Finn. His refusal to obey orders, his rejection of The First Order and what it stands for, changed something in the world. This is also noteworthy because in Judaism emphasis is on acting right, while beliefs are secondary.
And if that is true, if what awoke is the immanent part of the Force? It changes things immensely.
The difference between Force users and non-Force users would not just come down to training, but the difference between Force sensitives and non-Force sensitives would be eliminated. In having the Force as an active part of the world that everyone can interact with, influence and even - with the right training - use, this divide is no longer pertinent.
Here’s an interesting sidenote. One of the questions asked for the story of the ST (and the foundation of the new EU) was “what relevance does the Force have in the modern world?”. And for a transcendent Force, a transcendent divinity, the answer is as much or little as people want it to have for them. Those who don’t believe can safely go about their lives not really caring, but an immanent divinity, one that as the Force is very much real, now that suddenly becomes everyone’s concern.
And this leads me to my final point in this long meta, the balance in the Force.
Lor San Tekka says at the beginning of The Force Awakens “without the Jedi there can be no balance to the Force”. Many have taken this to mean the balance between the Light and the Dark, but I think it might mean a balance between the immanent Force and the transcendent Force. And that the Jedi are important because they stand in both worlds, the transcendent and the immanent, they span the bridge.
They are the focal points that can fix what was broken.
So when Han Solo says “that’s not how the Force works” he is partially right, it’s not how it used to work. But the rules changed when Finn’s actions awoke the immanent part and Finn, the new generation, have a much better grasp at how things work now.
So I’m sorry Han, but that is how the Force works. Now.
I would like to thank @hauntedfalcon for our brief talk. It sparked some thoughts without which this had been a much poorer meta, albeit also a much shorter one.
That whole discussion made me think of how the Force is presented in the OT/PT and in the ST.
In ESB we have Yoda’s “the Force surrounds us and binds us” followed by ”luminous being are we, not this crude matter”. This establishes the Force as something distinctly separate from the physical world and as being more, and more important, than it.
The PT have the whole spiel about “letting go of your attachments”, inferred to the physical world which is seen as inferior and less than the Force.
And then we have the ST.
Maz Kanata: “I am no Jedi, but I know the Force. It moves through and surrounds every living thing. Close your eyes. Feel it. The Light, it has always been there. It will guide you.”
On the surface it sounds like a repeat of what Yoda said in ESB, but please note that the caveat that separates the physical world from the Force isn’t there. In fact, it emphasizes that the Force is very much part of the world. That it is a divine force, but that it is immanent, not transcendent in nature.
Chirrut Imwe: “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I fear nothing, for all it as the Force wills it.”
Like Maz, Chirrut is no Jedi, but he too knows the Force. Now Chirrut is very much alive and well and seems quite attached to the physical world, his home city NiJedha, Baze, the others they join up with, but he doesn’t seem to see this as contradictory to his belief in the Force or its will.
Nor does he separate physical existence from being one with the Force and guided by it.
So it seems that we have gone from a Force that was viewed as transcendent, to a Force that is portrayed as immanent. From a universe where attachments and connections to the physical world were seen as a danger, or lesser thing, to one where they are a valued part of life.
In the aftermath of Jedha's destruction, Chirrut prays and meditates seeking answers to what comes next.
The Ragethrist Crew watched IP Man 3 and I needed something to do with all the feelings that movie gave me. You're looking at the result.
Can also be read on AO3.
"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me."
Kneeling on the stone floor this temple that isn't his, the prayer falls from Chirrut's lips with the ease of habit.
Usually there would be comfort in it too, but today he finds little. Though his faith and trust in the Force have sustained him through much, it is not so that he has never had doubts or questions. He had them as a child, as a young man losing his sight, as a grown man seeing his world torn asunder when his home was stripped from him and the man he loved more than his life turn around and walk away.
And he has them today.
In the face of such wholesale destruction, who would not?
"All of it? The entire city? Tell me."
"All of it. The entire city."
He had not truly had to ask Baze if the entire city was gone, he knew. Had sensed its destruction. But he had not wanted to believe it.
Unlike his husband Chirrut have never needed the Force to be kind, or merely just when there can be no kindness. He has know from a young age that people suffer for not greater reason than that other beings are selfish and cruel. There is no purpose to it, no specific goal with it in the grander scheme, just heartlessness and egotism.
But still his mind reels at cruelty on this scale. What could the Empire wish from it? How could the ones who had worked on the Death Star justify it to themselves?
His robe is heavy and uncomfortably hot on this planet that is everything that Jedha was not. Hot where his home was cold, wet and humid where it was dry. The air is filled with the smell of trees and flowers rather than sand.
The young woman who wears a shard of the sacred crystals around her neck is arguing with the rebels about an attack to retrieve the means to destroy this instrument of unimaginable cruelty. Chirrut senses she will not convince them. They too are reeling at the incomprehensible and are more likely to chose to run and hide, than to fight.
But there will soon be fighting to be done anyway. The Force is moving, its currents dark to his senses, but there is light still in it. A light that must be preserved at all cost.
"You really think praying is going to help us?"
Baze's voice as much as his footfall and presence heralds his approach.
Though his voice is grim and unyielding, Chirrut senses the pain that have given rise to the hardness. So instead of offering one of his usual counter argument, he holds out his hand towards his husband.
There is a pause, brief but noticeable, before Baze steps close and takes it. A lapse where the world waits for the next step, abides to see if it will be cruelty or kindness that is born. Then it moves again, a little lighter now, as Baze pulls him to his feet but doesn't let go of Chirrut's hand after.
"Can it harm?" Chirrut asks.
He hears Baze's sigh, the creak of his armor as his shoulders move.
"I suppose not," Baze mutters. "What do you think will happen now?"
"We will have to act on our own."
"Just the two of us? That's risky, even for you?" There is mirth now in Baze's voice. Not much, but there and Chirrut breathes a silent sigh of relief that today have not made his husband's heart darker still.
"We are no longer quite that alone if you hadn't noticed."
"You mean the spy, the defector and the girl who doesn’t know what she wants?" Chirrut nods. "You trust them?"
"I trust that the Force have placed us together for a reason."
"And what reason would that be?"
"Whatever we chose it to."
His words are met with silence, the Force flowing ragged and torn around Baze. He reaches out and puts his hand on his arm.
"Chirrut." There is a world of pain and loss and grief in that one word, but also hope and joy. He pulls Baze into his arms, resting his forehead against his husband's.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
"With my life." The answer comes with no hesitation.
"Then trust me in this."
Baze's arms wraps around Chirrut's waist, holding him tightly.
"I cannot lose you too."
At first Chirrut doesn't reply, there are no certainties in the galaxy least of all in times like this.
"I will not go where you cannot find me," he finally says. He knows in his heart that, in body or in spirit, he will abide by his husband's side, as Baze will by his. What they share is too deep and old for it to be otherwise, nor would he change it if he could.
His words sets Baze at ease, his grip loosening.
Approaching footsteps makes him step out of the embrace and bend down to retrieve his staff from the floor.
The Force is shifting, moving strong. He senses the young woman's anger, the pilot's grief and determination and the captain's desperate hope. In Baze he feels anger too and for the first time in years hope as well, overlaying his grief.
They have all been put here by the will of the Force, but what they make of it is in their hands.
Chirrut's own choice is clear. He made it years ago, he will not let the light be snuffed out. Whatever it might take he will see it preserved.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Chirrut Îmwe & Baze Malbus
Characters: Baze Malbus, Chirrut Îmwe, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Destiny, The Force, Pre-Rogue One, Slow Burn, Developing Relationship, First Time, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Ending
Summary:
They are twelve when they think they've found their only homes.
They are fifteen when they meet.
Baze is sixteen when Chirrut first tries to kiss him.
Chirrut is eighteen when he learns he's going blind.
A series of important scenes in the lives of Baze Malbus and Chirrut Îmwe, together and apart, from childhood and until their deaths. Yes it still have a happy ending.
Excerpt:
They are fifteen when they meet.
Baze is slow to anger, but there is one thing that will rise his ire quickly, those who prey on others. Chirrut's temper is quicker and harder, honed to a fine edge by the necessity of survival, and often selfish, but he will not stand by when someone weaker than him is bullied.
On a cold winter day, a biting wind coming in from the desert, they both find themselves on one of Jedha'ss many marked places. Baze has been tasked with buying supplies for the temple, Chirrut knows it's one of the better places to beg or lift the pockets of unwary off-worlders.
Chirrut notices them first, the group of kids, half grown and gangly though younger than he, harassing a blind beggar. He knows them, knows they're no good, has had more than one scrap with them already. Just as important, they know him and that he is one to be wary of.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus
Characters: Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Physical Disability, Disability, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Faith, Character Study, Emotional Hurt
Summary:
In the Imperial attack that exiled the Guardians from the Kyber Temple Chirrut lost both his home and his sight. Now he struggles with the darkness of his world in more than one way.
When Baze Malbus left Jedha ten years before he had never expected to return, but he'd not let the Empire take his home without a fight. After the fight and with few other places to go, he find himself feeling oddly responsible for the blind monk whom he rescued.
Excerpt:
But he needs Baze much as he hates to admit it, needs help. He has no idea how to get back to his room from here. He who completed all seven duans is now more helpless than a child.
Slipping down so he sits on the ledge that is placed beneath the water's surface so that bathers can recline and he buries his face in his hands. It puts his nose and mouth dagerously close to water's surface, but in this moment he doesn't care if he drowns. Why should he, there seems to be no point at all, to anything.
How can the Force will this? Will all of them homeless and fleeing? And the rest of the people in NiJedha, how are they dealing with the arrival of the Empire? Surely the Empire had not emptied the entire city?
But most deeply Chirrut resent the loss of his sight, selfish though he knows that is.
If he could only see, then he knows he could find a way to deal with the rest, but this helplessness is suffocating him.
His faith has never been a strong one, his dedication to the Guardians and the Kyber Temple rooted more in his love of martial arts and the aid they gave to the people of Jedha, but now there is barely a flicker of it left in him.
