“Captain,” Mace says, and when Keeli turns, he inclines his head in greeting, refusing to let the usual flicker of caution stop him as he advances across the space set aside as a makeshift sparring ring. Ryloth’s red dust is a thick coating over everything, turning the white parts of Keeli's armor to rust and giving his hair even more of a red cast than usual, and Mace can feel his surprise, his concern, his wariness.
Not unexpected, given that Mace hasn’t had a chance to visit since droids ambushed Keeli's party, and it was only Mace's last-minute intervention that saved them. With Ima Gun-Di being taken to New Holstice for treatment, that means Keeli and his men are now under Mace's direct command, and Ponds brought Mace plenty of whispers about the whole company being terrified of being sent back to Kamino for decommissioning or reeducation.
Mace would be offended that any clone could assume he would do such a thing, but—it speaks volumes as to the clones’ situation and their servitude to the Republic.
There's very little Mace values the way he values the Republic, but at this point in the war, that bedrock faith is cracking, tarnished, and the way the clones exist is the entire reason as to why.
“General Windu,” Keeli says promptly, snapping to attention. He’s stripped down to just the lower half of his armor, skin bare and slicked with sweat, breath coming quick, and Mace can feel the wash of prickling self-awareness, bordering on embarrassment as he hesitates.
Nothing in Mace is capable of leaving Keeli to squirm, even for a moment, no matter how uncertain he is about his offer being accepted. He nods, waving Keeli out of his stiff attention, and says, “At ease, Captain. I wanted to make sure that you and the rest of the men were settling in.”
That doesn’t ease the wariness, but Keeli nods, mouth pulling into the start of a grimace. “We’re fine, sir. Just a couple of minor injuries, but everyone should be on their feet in a few days.” He hesitates, just for a second, and then says a little stiffly, “If you're going to transfer us back behind the lines, sir, I can assure you, an incident like before won't happen again—”
Mace raises a hand, stopping the words. “I know,” he says evenly, and meets Keeli's eyes. “You weren’t able to spot the ambush in time to avoid it last time. I want to make sure that next time, you can.”
There's a moment of outright alarm that’s blunted by anger, and Keeli says, “Sir, if you're sending us back for reconditioning—”
Mace shakes his head, takes a step closer. “I'm not,” he says plainly. “Close your eyes.”
“Sir?” Keeli asks in confusion, but he does so regardless of his concern, standing stiff and uncertain in the heavy sunlight.
Considering him for a moment, Mace tips his head, breathes out. He trained Depa, helped train Quinlan, helped train A'Sharad. This is hardly the first time he’s offered lessons to someone who could use them.
It’s the first time he’s made such an offer to a man who might not believe he’s able to say no, though.
“Commander Ponds tells me that you're an excellent earthbender,” he says steadily, and then, “I want to put my hand on your shoulder, and share the way I see the world, mind to mind. Do I have your permission?”
“Of course, sir,” Keeli says, bemused. “Do I need to do anything?”
“No, just pay attention.” Mace closes his own eyes, breathes out, reaches as he shifts his feet. Feels the twitch Keeli gives at the foreign sensation of another mind alongside his, and then—
An inhale, sharp, and then an equally sharp surge of something that Mace can only identify as fascination.
“Sir, what is that?” Keeli asks, intent, and shifts, dragging one foot along the ground. Mace shares how it feels in his carefully tuned senses, the ripples that run through the earth, the way it shifts the image in his mind. Doesn’t answer, but watches Keeli's face, and—
He’s been watching Keeli since well before the mission went south. That same edge of hunger right beneath his even expression is still there, almost hidden but not quite, as he takes in the ripples spreading outward.
All the clones are hungry to learn what they can about bending, beyond the absolute basics the Kaminoans and the Mandalorian trainers drilled into them. Mace has seen it in practically every clone, but Keeli's want is even sharper, even greater. Every time he earthbends, every time Mace sees him across the practice field, he can sense Keeli's focus, see his grace and grit as he pushes himself further.
The thought of teaching him this arose before, but Mace is viciously aware of just how any advance, any suggestion, could be taken when Keeli doesn’t believe he can say no, and he hadn’t wanted to press.
And then, startled, Keeli opens his eyes, looks straight at Mace. “Vibrations,” he says with surprise. “You’re feeling the vibrations through the earth? With your bending?”
Mace can't help the faint pull of a smile. Teaching quick students is always the most rewarding task, and enjoyable. “Indeed. We don’t have much time before our orders come in, but I can teach you if you’d like to learn.”
“Yes,” Keeli says, almost before Mace can get the words out, and then coughs, sheepishly drawing back and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean. Yes sir, I’d like that. If you think I can manage.”
“I do,” Mace says steadily, and catches his gaze squarely. “You understood what I was doing with no context beyond your own bending. Ponds was right to call you impressive.”
Keeli scoffs, looking away, and—that sense of embarrassment twists up with pleasure in a way that hooks itself into Mace's ribs. “Ponds is a waterbender. He wouldn’t know a good earthbender if they dropped a rock on his thick skull.”
Mace hides his amusement. “I’ll have to tell him you said as much,” he says gravely, and when Keeli's eyes widen in alarm, he snorts. “A joke, Captain. Though I think Ponds would take it as a compliment.”
Keeli rolls his eyes, the tips of his ears flushed. “That’s not proving me wrong,” he says, and steps back, turns to scan the ring. “We should have time right now if you're not doing anything better—Sir!”
Mace pauses, halfway through unbolting his robes, and raises a brow.
Keeli stares at him for a moment, looking a little like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming train—
The earth shivers, rises like the start of a wave right beneath Keeli's feet as he yelps, but Mace has seen this particular trick too many times to fall for it, and slams the roll of stone back down with a sharp gesture. Turns, levels a speaking look across the camp, and pins Depa with a wholly unimpressed stare.
Undeterred as ever, Depa waves cheerfully, then ducks out of sight behind a tent, though Mace isn't foolish enough to think that that’s anywhere close to the end of her little matchmaking attempt.
This is going to be a long training session, it seems. And Keeli's grin, half-hidden behind one hand, isn't doing anything to make it easier.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Clone Trooper Keeli/Mace Windu
Characters: Mace Windu, Clone Trooper Keeli (Star Wars), CT-7567 | Rex, Granta Omega, Jango Fett, Dooku | Darth Tyranus
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Developing Relationship, Mind Control, Sith Planets (Star Wars), Mild Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Febuwhump 2023
Summary:
When the Jedi Order ends up traded like a bargaining chip to the newest power to threaten the Republic, Mace finds himself sent off to Dromund Kaas, married to one of the Supercommando Army's leaders. It's one hell of an adjustment to make for everyone involved.
Eee! Smut prompts! Ummmm. Something with Mace and Keeli? That short story, the day’s weary edge inverts toward grace, with them after Ryloth *killed me.* I loved their dynamic, not to mention the premise, and I’d love to see more of them together. Thanks~!
Mace/Keeli remains one of my absolute favorites, you have found my weakness.
