summary: Ava is a fugitive Jedi. Beatrice is an Inquisitor. Things go about as well as you’d expect.
read on AO3
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The first thing she did was take off her gloves, flinging them away into the dim corners of the room. She looked naked without them.
‘I’m going to touch you now,’ she said, and then her hands settled on the bruised length of Beatrice’s ribcage. It was a pain so insignificant that she had forgotten about it, but the contact made her wince. Miraculously, that was enough to make the Third Sister pause and loosen the pressure of her palms, but Beatrice didn’t say anything. She didn’t tell her to stop.
Next, the Third Sister reached up and slowly, slowly unlatched Beatrice’s left wrist from its restraint. She paused there, holding the limb just above the wrist. Beatrice would not realise until later that she was staring at the ruined circle of skin underneath the cuff. It seemed to take an age for her to pull her hand away.
The moment she did, Beatrice hit her.
It was an open-handed slap that turned the whole right side of the Third Sister’s face red. She blinked, stunned more by the suddenness of the attack than the sting of it.
Beatrice understood that she was screaming. She had started without realising and could not stop. It was a wild, wordless sound at a pitch between fury and terror. Her mind could not locate any precise reason for it. Why hit this woman, for example? Was it cowardice, was it spite, was it something so simple as choosing, in the absence of Crimson, any available flesh?
All she understood was that she was aggrieved. It was a selfish feeling and a bad reaction and it looked like the fits of pique her parents always responded to by locking Beatrice in a clean, cold room for hours and hours. Even years later it kept happening; a culmination of light and sound and pressure would, for no reason, come and flip a switch inside Beatrice’s mind.
On the very worst occasions her Master used to wrap Beatrice inside her arms. She was very strong and she smelled of cinnamon; the prawn crisps from the mess hall; something indescribably feminine like soap or sweetness. Sometimes they would collapse together onto the ground until Beatrice fell asleep with her wrists trapped against her chest, her Master saying nothing of consequence in a smooth, quiet voice.
Beatrice felt herself come unhinged. She watched as if through a viewport as her body did violent things, and she thought, dully: She’ll put me back. I’ve hit her and she’ll put me back and I’ll become meat and bones. I’ll become nothing at all.
She beat her fist down into the corner of the Third Sister’s jaw and the woman made a small, surprised noise, turning her face down and away. It was a bewildering response – an acceptance.
Later Beatrice would understand that it was instinct. It was out of habit that the Third Sister took the blow. She was used to it. She was often struck.
The Third Sister looked at Beatrice. At her violence and her fear, and she said, ‘It’s okay. I can take it.’
Then, with irresistible strength, the Third Sister snatched Beatrice’s wrist out of the air – and fuck her she was careful (so careful) not to touch the blistered skin where sweat and motion and time had eaten away at the joint.
She trapped the arm entire back against the metal frame and held it there, pressing her forehead into Beatrice’s heaving chest until Beatrice collapsed against her.
Rating: T (for excessive f-bombs)
Chapters: 1-4/20
Summary: When all’s said and done, Ava decides to keep it. One, because she’s not sure how she would even go about trying to get it out. Two, because it could be the only defense she has against the multitude of threats coming at her left and right. And three, because she really should reconsider this whole ‘meant to be’ nonsense if she’s gonna keep getting dragged back into this fate/destiny bullshit.
[snippets following the Ava-Halo relationship throughout the two seasons]
Ugh. Nuns. Always with the fucking nuns.
It’s gotta be some kind of cosmic irony. It’s because Ava had grown up hating organized religion, because she’d relentlessly cursed whatever supposed higher power stranded her in that bed, because she’d gladly fistfight God in a parking lot if given the chance. Because she’d channeled so much raging negative energy towards the Catholic church, it’s throwing that energy right back in her face and practically handcuffing her to nuns for the rest of her newfound life.
Well, fine. Two can play that game; if she’s going to be stuck with them, she’s going to make sure they know that they’re stuck with her. Dial down on cooperation, dial up on sass: The Ava Silva Special.
damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil (ch 5-7)
Rating: T
Chapters: 5-7/20 aka ep 4-6
Summary: [snippets following the Ava-Halo relationship throughout the two seasons]
“I killed someone,” Ava says into the darkness without preamble, surprising even herself with the sound of her own voice. “With…using it. The Halo.”
A part of her hopes that Mary’s fast asleep and didn’t hear her speak, while another part of her prays that she’s awake and caught her sudden confession. Either way, her words are met with a long stretch of silence that seems to go on and on forever, punctuated only by the distant cacophony of bugs outside of their cave.
Ava’s drowning in the sound, practically falling into a stupor from it, when Mary finally sighs out two words.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Words: 4453
Snow kicks up around Beatrice’s boots as she walks down the unshoveled sidewalk, a soft whisper of snowflakes following each heavily booted step. There’s almost six inches of it covering the ground now, but it’s barely a hindrance to her as she heads steadfast towards the festival.
Because Beatrice is on a mission. A crucial mission.
A mission that’s far more challenging than anything she’s ever carried out in the name of the Order, more dire than retrieving divinium from smugglers, more daunting than battling Adriel and his followers.
damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil (ch 8-11)
Rating: T
Chapters: 8-11/20 aka ep 7-10
Summary: [snippets following the Ava-Halo relationship throughout the two seasons]
But she can’t settle her mind, thinking about duty and obligation and morality, thinking back to that dingy little bedroom at the Cradle — the room assigned to the Halo-Bearer, militaristic in its minimalism. The room that was so freshly parted with Shannon that her personalizations still covered the walls and desk. Her notes. Her sketches and paintings. She was an artist. She was a person.
Ava’s back prickles, the Halo feeling colder and heavier than usual. Was that her fate? To be riddled with supernatural shrapnel as a sacrifice to some Higher Power, some almighty Greater Good? To be remembered only as some crusader, one of many to pass, one of many to come?
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Warrior Nun (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Characters: Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice (Warrior Nun)
Summary: Ava finally wins a sparring match and sends Beatrice into a spiral...literally and figuratively
