Archive of Our Own ^beta

The wind was brutal. Technically, it was spring on this hemisphere of Kalevala, but the way the wind bit through Bo-Katan’s layers of heavy woolen tunics and warm boots, it might as well have been mid winter.

But the sun, though weak, was bright, as it hit it’s highest point for the day, and tiny green buds were starting to sprout on the hardy shrubs they walked past as they made their way up the ridge.

Bo-Katan bit her cheek to keep from thinking that they wouldn’t be here long enough to see the blinding green of high spring in a few weeks.

Bo glanced up at Satine, who seemed unbothered by the cold, as she gazed out over the water toward the unseen shore on the far side of the lake. Her cheeks and tip of her fine nose were bright red, and wisps of her pale blonde hair had blown loose of her braid and whipped about her face. Bo knew her sister well, and could tell she was lost in thought. Satine had been lost in thought so much lately.

Her sister must have felt her eyes on her, because Satine turned her face away from the water and looked down at Bo, smiling. “We have to keep moving if we want to get there before they realize we’re gone.”

Bo nodded, and picked up her pace to keep up with her sister’s longer legs. At eleven years old, Bo had yet to hit the growth spurt her father promised her would come. “If you’re anything like your mother or sister, ad’ika, I will blink and you will be as tall as Satine.”

He had told her the story of her mother as a young girl, when their two family clans had often traveled together for safety in numbers. They’d been separated for a few months when they were twelve, and when the clans had met up again, Bo-Kira, Bo’s mother, had shot up, towering over Adonai. It had stayed like that for almost three years, when he had finally hit a growth spurt of his own.

“Any time now,” her father had said just the night before, smiling sadly.

Everyone was smiling sadly these days. 

“Bo-Katan! Hurry up!”

Bo looked up, realizing she’d slowed down as she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts. Satine was several paces ahead, nearing the top of the ridge they’d been climbing. Bo sprinted to catch up, the cold air making her throat ache.

She caught up to her sister just as they reached the top of the ridge, and together, they looked down into a sheltered bowl of land, where a small herd of Orbaks had gathered. 

“Oh stars!” Bo gasped, sitting down on the cold ground, crossing her legs and pulling the long heavy cloak tightly around her, grinning madly as she stared at the creatures. “They’ve already had three babies!”

Satine sat down beside Bo, their shoulders brushing. “That’s why they come to this spot. It can still be quite cold this time of year, and hard on the foals. This place offers them protection from the wind.”

Bo knew all this, but she still let Satine explain it to her. They’d come here every spring to watch the Orbak herd with their mother. They were hardly native to Kalevala, but had been here for so many centuries that they were considered a beloved nuisance to most of the residents that lived close to their grazing territory. Bo even had vague memories of riding a small Orbak with Satine when they were both tiny. 

They missed the hike out here the spring before. 

Their mother had been killed only the week before their planned hike the year before. Their father, grief stricken and sent into a manic frenzy to protect his children, had not let them leave the compound to make the trip themselves. Not even with Protectors, despite how the girls had pleaded. 

This trip was hardly sanctioned, either.

They were supposed to be finishing their packing. They’d leave for Mandalore, to the city of Sundari, the next day. Buir had finally taken the council of his clan and allies. The thought was Mandalore was a better position in the war. 

And easier to defend. 

Bo sighed heavily, watching the Orbaks graze. She and Satine had been noticed, mostly by the younger animals. The yearlings and two year olds. But the older ones, all of which Bo recognized, were used to the Kryze’s spying on them, and paid them no mind. 

There would be no Orbaks on Mandalore. Or massive lakes of fresh water. Or biting wind on a cold, early spring day. Just Satine. Always Satine.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered, resting her head against her sister’s shoulder.

Satine rested her head against Bo’s. “I know, vod’ika. Me either. And I don’t think Buir really does.”

“Then why?”

Satine didn’t answer. Not for a long while. The sun was now slowly sliding away from its highest point in the sky. Bo ignored the anxiety that bubbled in her belly. Their absence surely had been noticed by now.

“Buir doesn’t want me to tell you this yet,” Satine said suddenly, her voice barely a whisper. She squirmed where she sat, her own anxiety clear.

“Tell me what?” Bo asked, raising her head and looking at her sister.

Satine didn’t turn to look at her. Her eyes stayed glued to the Orbaks, watching the three foals taking their first tentative attempts at initiating play with each other. “I’m only going to be in Sundari with you a few weeks.”

“What!?” Bo felt like she’d been punched. Tears immediately stung her eyes.

Satine turned to see the tears in Bo’s eyes, and wrapped her arm around Bo’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “I know. I know.” She breathed in deeply, letting out a long breath. “I’m going to the university on Coruscant. They have a good secondary school program in diplomacy that filters into the actual university. The new semester starts soon. Buir got me a slot.”

Bo pulled her knees up, then rested her forehead against them. She knew that there had been talks of Satine going to university at some point. Either Coruscant or Naboo. Possibly even Alderaan. But Bo had assumed that would be years down the road. Once she’d graduated from the Academy. 

After the war. 

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t, Bo. And Buir wanted to wait to tell you until we were settled on Mandalore, maybe after you found some friends. So it wouldn’t be such a blow.” Her hand moved to Bo’s messy braid, her hand repetitively running down the length of it. “But I didn’t think that was fair.”

“He’s sending you away!” Bo sobbed, the tears flowing freely now.

“No. That’s not true. I want to go. I think it’s important.” 

“What will I do without you?” Bo asked through her tears, leaning heavily into Satine, though she refused to pick up her head from her knees.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find plenty. Sundari is supposed to have lots to do. You’ll make friends. You’ll start at the Academy in a few months, which will keep you very busy. And I’m sure Buir will bring you to visit me on Coruscant. And I’ll be back, too I’m sure.”

“I don’t want things to change,” Bo said, the sobs quieting. She rubbed her snotty nose on her knees before sitting up. “I don’t like all this change.”

Satine shrugged, her eyes turning back to the Orbaks. “Change is scary and hard and there isn’t much we can do about it happening. But you know what, Bo?”

“What?”

“Change makes us stronger. Change can make us better. At least, that’s what I think. Buir talks about it, too. How we change Mandalorians for the better.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do. But I know it's hard to imagine right now. All the change you’ve seen has been big and horrible and recent. So, it’s hard to see how it’s going to make you better. But it will. And me, too.”

“Satine! Bo-Katan!” Buir’s voice came from not too far away. Some of the Orbaks spooked, scooting off a ways before realizing the threat was nonexistent.

“Osik,” Satine said under her breath. Then flashed Bo a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell him I said that.” She rose to her feet and offered Bo a hand up. “Come on, vod’ika. He’s going to be mad. Might as well face it sooner than later.”

Bo took Satine’s hand but didn’t stand right away. “Satine?”

“Hmm?”

“I guess it’s ok if things change, but promise me we’ll always be best friends, ok?”

Satine smiled down at her, her face pink and ruddy. She tugged Bo up and wrapped Bo into a tight hug, tucking Bo just under her chin. “No matter what, Bo. No matter what.”