Hi everyone! Valentine's Day is nearly upon us, and with it being so soon, we wanted to make an announcement regarding Sabezra Day.
We held a Sabezra Day event for Valentine's Day 2024 and 2025, but this year there will be no Valentine's Day Sabezra event. However, that doesn't mean we have no desire to celebrate Sabezra with you anymore. In fact, it means quite the opposite!
We would like to switch things up this year and celebrate Sabezra for a different holiday! Imagine, Thanksgiving, Christmas, St Patrick's Day (we know Sabine loves colours - how about green?). We want to hear your thoughts about what holiday Sabine and Ezra (and us!) should celebrate this year.
Please, reply to this post, send us a message, or reblog with your preferred holiday and we'll take those answers into 2026!
For now, happy soon-to-be Valentine's Day, and happy shipping!
May have rushed this, especially the second draws, but tis fine~ nothing new with Alphita just pushing her limits when I have work the next morning lol ✨
Have a wonderful one y’all 🫶🏼 spread the love and kindness, especially for these two dorks 💜🤭🧡 my contribution for @sabezraweek 💖
The prompt was tough but I like to think the creators of the infamous and very obvious Obi-Wan x satine show created a spin-off (roughly) based on Sabine and Ezra's story. They took a few creative liberties...
Bonus unedited poster >:3
Definitely one of those "fuck it good enough" pieces and I know it's a little late but I really wanted to put it out. I'm actually okay with how it turned out but there's some biiiig problems with "ezra"s skin tone and don't get me started on the lighting omg it damn near killed me TvT
Whether he was gone for the present or gone for good, no one could say for sure.
The only thing one could say - with absolute certainty - was that Ezra Bridger was gone.
On the day of Lothal’s Liberation from the Empire, at the very climax of that fateful battle, a pod of star whales - otherwise known as purrgil- answered the young man’s call for aid. They descended upon his home world, and oh! What a sight to behold: those mammoth, nearly mythical beasts gliding through the atmosphere! What a tremendously terrifying cacophony of bellows and crashes and explosions they made! The Empire’s Seventh Fleet, without time to prepare or retaliate, was decimated. Those ships that the purrgil neglected to destroy on impact were seized by their mighty tentacles - gripping, puncturing, pressing, crunching, squeezing the very life out of the vessels in a horrifyingly frigid embrace. And then! As their final act, the many-armed creatures rippled aquamarine, signaling their impending departure, just before they and their prize disappeared from the sky and escaped into hyperspace.
The Jedi Ezra Bridger, last known to have been aboard the fleet’s flagship, Chimaera, went with them.
A deafening silence followed their exit, and it continues to this day, for no one has seen the purrgil, the Seventh Fleet, or Ezra ever since.
So allow me to repeat: Ezra was gone. Vanished. Without a trace.
And no one, in this entire galaxy or in any other (if such a thing should exist), has felt his absence as completely or as keenly as Sabine Wren.
Sabine Wren, seen here, lying on the floor of LothalNet comm tower E-272 and contemplating the whole of her research into Ezra’s whereabouts, had witnessed (indeed had facilitated, much to her everlasting regret) Ezra’s miraculous departure from Lothal.
The Liberation of Lothal was at the very beginning of the Galactic Civil War, some five or so years after Sabine had met Ezra and another five or so years before today. A Mandalorian warrior by birthright but a rebel by choice, Sabine played her part in that war, mostly in its earliest days when she and Ezra were crew mates, Spectres Five and Six aboard a light freighter called the Ghost. After Ezra’s astonishing flight, Sabine continued with the crew and saw action all the way through the destruction of the first Death Star; and then, later on, she reunited with them to finish out the war during Cinder and Jakku.
Those years in the interim, though, had been spent here.
Well, not here here. Not right here. On the floor.
But here. On Lothal.
It was the fulfillment of an unspoken promise to Ezra, Sabine’s tenure on Lothal.
For the duration of the war, Sabine was tirelessly, obsessively, ardently committed to this agrarian Outer Rim world. She’d been its staunchest defender, its most vocal advocate, and the Guardian of its physical and secret spiritual realms. She’d seen to the creation and operation of its defense force, the protection and restoration of its people (and hers), and she’d set in motion its renaissance and reconstruction. For one reason or another, all of Lothal knew or knew of Commander Wren, the brightly-hued Mandalorian artist (just a few of her many epithets), and they considered her one of their own.
And yet, though Lothal had become home to Sabine - as much or more of a home as anywhere had ever been - she’d kept her distance. Contented to take up residence here in her solitary “roost”, she had remained a lone sentinel, gazing often from her comm tower’s balcony at far off Capital City or out upon the wavy grassland plains. By night, she studied the stars and kept a vigil with the twin moons.
Because, in truth, Sabine had cocooned herself in this solitude because she was waiting.
Something, or rather someone, was missing.
To Sabine, Lothal wouldn’t truly be home until he returned.
(And she was the only one - at home or afar - who still believed he would.)
Amongst the Lothali, it had lent a bit of a madwoman mystique to her personality, this lengthy seclusion, this perennial certitude that Ezra Bridger had somehow survived his heroic sacrifice and would return from wherever the purrgil had taken him.
But Sabine knew what she knew.
While Ezra lived still (and he did, she was sure), he would come back.
For her.
In the meantime, when she wasn’t tending to her duties regarding Lothal, Sabine had kept herself busy by attempting to puzzle out just where in the galaxy Ezra might have gone. Though she trusted him to return as much as he had trusted her to stay, given the cryptic request he'd made of her, Sabine had thought it best to prepare for all eventualities, including search and rescue. So, over the years, leads had been chased, interviews conducted, routes charted, etc, but to no avail. Ezra’s gone-ness remained as much of an unsolved mystery to Sabine as it had been to everyone else.
Perhaps a lesser woman - beset by so many obstacles and dead ends - would have given up by now. Perhaps a woman of fainter heart, of weaker faith, of a love that could be diminished by time and distance, would have come to believe, as we all had, that Ezra was gone for good. Perhaps another woman would have accepted that the Hero of Lothal had been laid to rest in legend, belonging more to the past than the future.
Sabine Wren was no such woman.
So here she lays on the floor once again, patiently waiting and yet intently working, analyzing her information for an uncounted time. As usual, the familiar azure glow of her holographic collection of star maps, clues, and artistic renderings illuminates the dark room but not the answers to her questions; however, Sabine is beginning to think that there is something unusual about this study. Something is new. Because unlike the countless times before that she had lain here, baffled and frustrated, a feeling was prickling up her spine. Something was sparking at the edge of her consciousness, something she couldn’t explain or put into words. Something she was afraid to put into words.
Something akin to…anticipation.
Sabine blinked at her data, but it remained unchanged. To her surprise, her confusion, and to her even greater disappointment, she was not having an epiphanic event, as if suddenly everything made sense. As if, after all of the work, all of the scrutinizing and investigating, defining and redefining, connecting and disconnecting and rearranging all of the dots only to scrap it and start the process all over again, that she’d found him. That she finally had a destination or at the very least a hint or something…
No. The only something she had was this…feeling.
Despite her logical mind’s objections, Sabine was inclined to trust her feelings.
Without her consent, the tiny flame of hope that had burned steadfastly in her heart these long, long years warmed into a brighter flame.
Without truly being conscious of it, without having any apparent reason for it, she slowly began to smile.
“One last time,” said a voice via holocall, “for me.”
Sabine startled. In her near-giddiness, she had completely forgotten that she had been talking with Hera Syndulla. Wide-eyed, she wracked her brain, straining to recall the most recent topic of conversation. Why would her mentor, her captain and general, and, most importantly, her dear friend, make one last request of her?
Unfortunately and embarrassingly enough, Sabine had no idea.
Holographic Hera smirked, watching as her clueless younger friend righted herself and copied her long lost companion’s tell-tale sign of guilt.
“One last time for…” Sabine led, reaching for the back of her neck.
“The Ball, Sabine. The Heroes of the Rebellion Ball,” General Syndulla supplied graciously.
With a roll of her eyes, Sabine dropped her hand, recalling then why she had zoned out.
“Heraaaaa,” she drawled.
“Sabiiiiiine,” she returned.
The Mandalorian chewed at her lip. “I don’t even belong there. You know I hate these things. I know you hate these things. It’s all a show for the politicians. Besides, how many “End of the War” celebrations can one new government have anyway?”
“Well, I’ve been assured that this is truly the last one. The Galactic Civil War is now, finally, officially over, so, in that case, this is the celebration to end all celebrations. To honor ALL heroes past and present, living and deceased, everyone and anyone who contributed to the war effort,” Hera advertised. “Or, at least that’s what all of the invitations say.”
Sabine huffed.
“And you do belong there. Like it or not, you’re a hero, Sabine. So much happened because you were involved. Not to mention all of the art you contributed to the war effort. You should be there,” said Hera. “Everyone else will be.”
“Not everyone,” Sabine sharply reminded her, and Hera sighed deeply.
Of anyone in this galaxy, it had been Hera, Spectre Two, who had had the most long-suffering sense of compassion for Sabine and her obsession regarding the whereabouts of Ezra Bridger.
And though the General knew in her head that his survival was unlikely, especially after so long, she, like Sabine, couldn’t quite give up hope for Spectre Six, however slim.
“No. Not everyone, “ Hera agreed, and the note of a long-held grief, usually so well-concealed, rang out clearly. Sabine nodded, guilt twisting a little inside.
“But,” Hera injected into the awkwardness between them, “I’ll be there. And Zeb. And Kallus. Chop and Jacen will be around for a little while that night, too. Maybe you could stick around a few days and visit. It’d be good to see you. What do you think?”
Ordinarily, and especially recently as peace had become somewhat the norm, Spectre Five would’ve jumped at the chance for a mini-reunion with her old crew. They’d remained something of an extended family, even as they’d gone their separate ways.
But this new feeling, this anticipation, suddenly made her anxious to leave Lothal.
What if…what if…what if…she wondered.
“Sabine?” said Hera. “What do you think? Can I count on you?”
Sabine’s thoughts were abruptly thrown off course.
“What?” she gasped, heart thumping wildly.
“Can I count on you? To be my sort-of-plus-one and come to the Ball?” Hera repeated.
“Oh! Oh,” Sabine said, recovering but slowly. “Umm..yeah. Sure. Of course. I’ll come.”
Hera eyed her warily. “Ooooook. Well, that was a quick turnaround. I was prepared to argue with you for at least a few more minutes,” laughed Hera. “Are you sure? You’re ok?”
For a brief moment, Sabine closed her eyes. One breath in and one breath out. She pushed past the anxiety, the fear. It was still there. Warmer and brighter. The feeling. The anticipation.
It felt steady. And sure.
Trust, it seemed to whisper to her, and nothing, not the timing of its appearance nor the significance of Hera’s words nor even the invitation to the Ball, seemed at all like a coincidence.
Long ago, Hera had quipped that Sabine occasionally seemed more Jedi than Mandalorian; and Sabine, recalling this, opened her eyes with a lopsided smile.
“Yeah, Hera. I’m good. Really good, I think,” Sabine said, and Hera returned her smile.
“But,” Sabine added as she stood and moved to the holocall dashboard, “you’re gonna owe me for having to get out the evening gown.”
Hera laughed. “Can’t we call it even?”
“Nope.”
“All right, then,” said Hera. “See you in about a week.”
“See you then.” With the flick of a switch, the image of General Syndulla disappeared, leaving Sabine Wren once again alone in her roost. To think. To wait. And to hope.
Story Summary:
Settling into his relationship with Sabine, a curious Ezra seeks stories far and wide the galaxy over about Jedi-Mandalorian romance for advice . . .
Author's Note: For Sabezra fans, new and old, regardless if you just liked a post about them or if you created art/fanfics/creative works featuring them; I thank you all for keeping this small, yet mighty fandom alive throughout these long years. You know I can always count on you, right?
This story is from my heart to yours. See you for the next one and Happy Valentine's Day.
@sabezraweek
Evening on Lothal, once upon a time, used to fill Ezra Bridger with dread. He remembered an uncertain time in his life as a child, shortly after the Empire had taken his parents: scavenging on the streets of Capital City and begging from those who still held an ounce of decency to take pity on another orphan. Only the brave and reckless or just plain lucky survived the increasingly mean streets during the days of Imperial reign. There were nights that he came back to his comm-tower with nothing to eat, forced to hunker down in the empty, dark interior, draped only in thin sheets of fabric cobbled together that were the best he could do during the colder nights.
Hunger had been a constant, uncomfortable companion to him at all times. The very first hot meal he could remember after years of isolation was onboard the Ghost - that first night, after joining the Spectres. Hera had come to his room - well, his and Zeb's room which caused all sorts of hilarious friction during those early months - since he had been too shy to join them in the communal area with a bowl of hot porridge, freshly made.
She didn't make any requests for him to join them at the table; Hera understood that it was still too early, and that Ezra would settle in at his own pace. "I'll come back in thirty minutes to check in on you," she said kindly. "Don't scarf that down all at once, okay?"
Being the dumb teenager he was - and a hungry one too - the moment the door sealed shut, he did immediately just that.
Taking a few gulps of the bottled juice that had been provided to soften the burning pain afterwards, he blew gingerly on the meal for a minute straight before eating another spoonful. Ezra was glad that he was alone in that moment because the warmth and delicious meal brought him to tears. Food had always been plentiful at the Bridger home, made with love and care. In hindsight, the porridge wasn't on the same level as one of his mother's home-cooked meals, but it didn't matter - for that one night it tasted just as good, just as savory, just as full of love and affection on the Ghost and it made Ezra cry that someone cared enough to make a meal for him when he was hungry.
He resolved to never take food for granted after that; he always ate whatever was offered without complaint.
Being in a relationship with Sabine Wren, however, tested that resolve some days. His long-time partner and best friend, recently promoted to girlfriend, had decided to try her hand at making them a home-cooked meal from one of his favorite Lothal recipes.
Hustling over from their makeshift kitchen inside the newly renovated comm-tower they now used as their permanent home, she plunked two bowls of thick, steaming seafood chowder onto the table in front of Ezra. He leaned forward from the couch, letting the rich, hearty smell of fresh soup waft over him.
Smells good, he observed privately. Nothing looks burned either, so that's an improvement from last time.
Sabine sat down next to him, still wearing her mechanic's overalls stained with grease and oil from a day full of routine repair work on their speeders. She gave him a nervous glance.
"Well?" she asked. "I followed the recipe precisely."
Raising his spoon, Ezra gently probed the bowl's contents. The lumps of seafood - a mix of shellfish, clams, and assorted veggies cut into thick chunks - looked cooked. Under Sabine's watchful gaze, he spooned some of the chowder into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Sabine huffed impatiently and poked him in the ribs. "Hey," she said. "I need a reaction, goober."
Ezra swallowed his food and gave his girlfriend a small smile. "Sweet," he replied.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Let me get a bite." She grabbed her spoon, dipped it in her own bowl, and chomped down eagerly -
Sabine's expression turned dour to Ezra's delight. She turned towards him, eyeing him grimly.
"Sweet," she repeated. "You meant literally."
He burst out in laughter. She glared at him but without any real heat behind her eyes.
"Did you use sugar or salt?" he asked, after settling down.
Sabine folded her arms. "We should think about adding labels to our condiments," she said in a terse response.
"We do have labels on our condiments," Ezra sighed. "It was your idea after the first cooking mishap. It seems like you were in a rush again."
She fidgeted in her seat. He could practically see the guilt radiating from her in waves. " . . . I wanted to get this right. It's one of your favorites."
Ezra reached out and took another spoonful of chowder into his mouth. "It's an interesting twist on it, I'll admit. I never said it was bad, cyar'ika."
"You don't have to eat it to assuage my feelings," Sabine protested.
"I know," Ezra reassured her and continued eating.
His girlfriend's cheeks turned slightly pink; from the corner of Ezra's eye, he could see her fighting back a fond smile. In grateful silence, she resumed eating her own meal.
When they were finished, Sabine laid back on the couch and patted his stomach. "Since you liked it so much, I'll have you know that there's still a big pot of it leftover."
Ezra winced. "Why don't we save some of that for Kallus and Zeb when they come to visit tomorrow? I'd hate to keep this dish all to ourselves."
She snorted. "Spread the love, eh?"
He pulled Sabine close into a warm embrace, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Oh, always," he said cheerfully, already envisioning the expressions on their old friends' faces when they sampled Sabine's latest cooking. He added then, quietly, "Thank you for the food, Sabine."
"Hmmm," she replied drowsily. "You're welcome."
Then, suddenly, his comm-link chirped. Ezra blinked at it and then, with his free arm, reached out to where it laid on the table to accept the call.
A hazy, blue, six-inch tall figure emitted from the holo-projector embedded into the device. After a few seconds as the signal grew stronger, the figure resolved into sharp focus: the smiling visage of Luke Skywalker, a fellow Jedi, legendary hero of the Rebellion, and, more importantly, a friend.
Ezra sat up. "Luke!" he said, feeling flustered. He remembered then that he was supposed to be expecting this call. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot that you were calling tonight."
Next to him, Sabine popped open an eye at Luke's image. "S'up, Luke," she mumbled in greeting.
The Jedi Knight grinned and bowed in response. "Hello, Sabine; hello, Ezra. Hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"We just finished dinner," Ezra said. "Have you found what I asked for?"
His friend's smile dropped a few degrees perceptibly. "Unfortunately, not," he replied. "I've looked all over, Ezra - even called in a few favors with Han and some of his crew. There doesn't seem to be any records anywhere that exist."
Ezra slumped into the couch. He felt Sabine shift in his embrace, rousing herself from near slumber with new interest in the conversation. "What records would that be?" she asked.
The image of Luke glanced at Ezra for permission before answering. He gave a small nod in acknowledgement.
"Ezra was asking about any records of Jedi-Mandalorian relationships," Luke explained.
Sabine whipped her head towards her boyfriend. "Why?" she asked curiously.
"Ah . . . well," Ezra started, trying to find the right words.
Luke beat him to it. "For advice, Sabine," he said, smiling slightly. "He wants to ensure that the love you two share goes smoothly."
Sabine stared at Ezra. He began to sweat in response, feeling the beads of moisture welling up on his forehead. "Well, if that's all Luke, then I'll leave you be. I'm sure you have a lot to do with your Academy."
"I do," his friend responded. "May the Force be with you both."
The call cut out. Sabine continued to stare at Ezra.
Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, he turned to meet her stare. "Are you mad?" he asked, dreading the answer. "I just - look, you are the most important person in my life and our relationship and I - I just wanted to make sure that things go well for us. I don't want to make any mistakes."
She stared at him for a few more agonizing seconds - and then eased into a soft smile. Ezra felt the tension slip out of his shoulders, feeling like an immense weight had been lifted off them.
Sabine reached out to cup his cheek affectionately. "I'm not mad, goober," she replied. "Just . . . surprised. You never conveyed anything but confidence when it came to us."
"You always make me nervous, Sabine," he replied. Then, he added hastily, "In a good way. Butterflies in the stomach kind of way."
She cocked her head at him, her smile sweet. "Me too," she said quietly.
"It does seem unfortunate, though," Ezra said. "You'd think there would be at least some stories of a Jedi-Mandalorian romance somewhere in a galaxy this big."
Sabine frowned, thinking. "There's a couple myths I've heard. One of them from my own clan."
"Really? What's that?"
"One of my ancestors, Eurydice Wren supposedly fell in love with a Jedi named Orpheus. This was way back during the Old Republic era - way, way back."
"Oh, I remember that one," Ezra realized. "Learned about it - when was that? - oh, it was during that one time I got lost in that blizzard on Krownest."
"Yeah," Sabine said. "You said you had a weird force vision while sheltering in that cave or tomb or whatever it was. Not to mention you almost died."
He shrugged. "Eh, it was fine. You found me in time, like you always do."
She snorted. "One of my specialties, it seems. Finding lost Jedi who are too dense to follow perfectly fine landing instructions."
"Yes," Ezra said approvingly. "And this formerly lost Jedi appreciates that. Any other myths or legends you might have heard of from the Mandalorians?"
She tapped her chin, deep in thought. "Only one other. Bo mentioned once that her sister had feelings for a Jedi."
Ezra raised a curious eyebrow. "Bo's sister? That was the former Duchess who reigned during the Clone Wars, right? Her name sounded similar to yours."
"Satine," answered Sabine. "Never found out who the Jedi was, though."
Ezra shook his head. "Speaking from experience, it takes a certain kind of crazy to get involved with a Mandalorian."
Sabine grinned. "Well, good thing for both of us, we Mandalorians are attracted to crazy."
"True," he agreed. He gave a wistful sigh. "Wish there were more stories."
His girlfriend hesitated for a moment. "Well . . . there are. Sort of."
He blinked at her. "Oh? About whom?"
_ _ _ _ _
Sabine hovered over his shoulder as he scrolled through the web page she had pulled up on her personal data-pad. The Holo-Net provided a wealth of resources that he had often perused at his own leisure, but this one particular source was new to him.
"Well," she said. "What do you think?"
He glanced up at her. "Explain this to me one more time."
She sighed, exasperated. "It's called 'The Archive', Ezra. A place where people all over the galaxy can contribute creative works - "
"It's fanfiction, Sabine," Ezra pointed out.
Her cheeks flushed pink. "Well. Yes."
"Fanfiction," Ezra repeated. "About us."
The pink threatened to shade into a rosy red. "Yes."
He scrolled towards the top of the page. "A thousand works and counting," he murmured. "All of this - people write about us? Really?"
She relaxed. "You're not . . . weirded out about any of this?"
"Feeling a little humbled actually that people seem to find our lives so interesting," Ezra responded. He was actually in awe that people all over the galaxy seemed to find inspiration in his and Sabine's stories.
"Okay. That's good," she said, smiling nervously. He arched an inquisitive eyebrow at her.
"Are you weirded out by this?" he asked.
"No! Not at all. I feel the same as you," she said quickly. "They've been writing about us for a while now. Since the rebellion."
"Makes sense. There were bounties placed on us. Some of the stuff we did probably wound up being covered by the Imperial news cycle, "Ezra mused. "Also, how many teenagers fought in the rebellion? Probably enough to count on one hand - maybe two, at most."
"Yeah," Sabine agreed. "It's just that . . . these stories are personal to me. Other than the fact they're about us."
"How so?" he asked.
She looked away from him, her voice small as she replied softly, "I started reading these while you were . . . away."
He felt a pang go through his chest. While I was stranded in another galaxy, he thought.
"These fanfic authors and artists," Ezra said gently, "gave you hope, didn't they."
Sabine nodded. "It was nice to read about us going on adventures still. Some of them are even about how I would find you. What we would do once we reunited."
Ezra returned his gaze to the data-pad, scrolling through Sabine's profile on The Archive website. Peering through the list of author/artist names that she had bookmarked:
@seleneisrising
@starryjediknight
@jedi-nurse
@dreams-are-paper-thin
@bart1607
@illuminatedquill
@kanerallels
@cursivequestion
@always-shipping
@rebelscum218
@alphaofdarkness
@rancidsugar
@meldy-arts
@glouchyouchy
@black-cat-babe
@ana-cantskywalker
@lady-grey-1993
@ladywren7
@betagurie
@kelbies-fandom-locker
@jedimandalorian
@kazoosandfannypacks
@tarisilmarwen
@sassygirl579
And the list went on and on.
Out of curiosity, he clicked on one of author profiles - 'illuminatedquill' - and brought up one of their stories that piqued his interest: SCAR-CROSSED. He started to read through it -
"Oh," he said, his cheeks warming. "Oh, that's pretty explicit."
Sabine grabbed the data-pad from his hands. "That's - look, I only read that once - "
"Says you have it book-marked," Ezra observed slyly.
"It's a good story!" Sabine said, her voice squeaky. "It's not just about the sex, there's some good emotional stuff in there, too."
"Uh-huh," said Ezra. "Sure. This 'quill' person - seems like you have a lot of their works book-marked."
"Technically," Sabine confided, "illuminatedquill isn't a person. They're a sentient geode."
He blinked at her. "A - what?"
"Sentient geode," Sabine repeated, as if that clarified anything.
"They're . . . a rock?"
"Yeah," Sabine said. "I exchanged some messages with them, complimenting their work."
He thought about that for a few moments. "How do they write their stories?"
She shrugged. "Passionately, I assume."
"Huh." Ezra sat back into the couch, digesting this.
"What are you thinking?" asked Sabine.
"All these stories about us," Ezra said. "If any of these people met us in real life, I doubt we would measure up to the epic versions in the stories they've told."
Sabine snuggled up close to him, perusing through her Archive account at the myriads of stories about the two of them. "Oh, I don't know. I think we'd still impress them - especially you. Does any of this make you feel better, though?"
"About what?" asked Ezra.
"About us," said Sabine. "People seem to have faith that we'll turn out alright. There's a thousand happy endings here. More every day."
Ezra gazed at her, feeling suddenly sad. "These stories - these authors and artists . . . they really meant a lot to you. They helped you get through my absence."
She nodded. "You were still with me in these fanfictions. You never left. Or, if you did, I found you. And we were happy. It got me through, even if it wasn't real."
Sabine went silent for a few moments before speaking again in a soft tone. "We lived happy lives in these stories, a thousand times and more."
"Hey." Ezra put his fingers underneath Sabine's chin and turned her face gently towards his. "You made this happy ending real. I wouldn't be here without you."
Sabine smiled and hugged him close. "I'm impatient," she said. "Got tired of waiting for you."
"Thank the Force for that," Ezra said. "Anyway . . . which one is your favorite story?"
She snorted. "I'm biased but I think this one - the one we're living in right now - is my favorite."
"Really. Even without knowing the ending yet?"
"We get an 'ever after', goober. Not many others get that privilege."
He knew she was thinking about Hera and Kanan. "True," he murmured, feeling the old pain of his lost mentor.
Ezra kissed her on the forehead. "Guess the 'happily' part is up to us, then."
"Always is," she replied. "But I think we'll manage it."
He laid his head back, feeling the drowsiness of a long, productive day with a belly full of good food and even better company beginning to do him in. Ezra knew Sabine felt the same, through their bond in the Force. Sleep would soon be upon them.
"Ezra?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you, you know that, right? All the way to the end."
He hugged his girlfriend close, her head on his chest so she could hear the beat of his heart - all just for her.
"I love you too, Sabine. For every bit as long."
They fell asleep like that, safe and happy in each other's arms.
