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Chapter Text

“Y’know, we have treadmills,” Eli’s voice came from a little behind Thrawn as the cadet struggled to match Thrawn’s pace. He’s taken up a spot next to Thrawn as he ran his routine laps around the sparring arena. Their feet bounced against the mats that always seem so springy until you’re being thrown down onto them. This late at night, the place was empty.

“I’m aware,” Thrawn said evenly, completely unphased by the four laps he’s completed already. Eli breathed heavily from trying to match Thrawn’s loping gait. The chiss slowed by an almost imperceptible degree.

“They’re probably better… Y-Y’know, since you got ‘em long legs,” Eli panted.

“I am perfectly happy to continue exercising as I see fit.”

“I’m just sayin’.” Thrawn slowed his pace a little so that Eli was by his side.

“Although I appreciate your company, if you would rather use the treadmill, you are free to use it,” Thrawn hummed.

“N-No. I’m happy to stay with you.” They ran together until Eli completed the ideal number of laps, with Thrawn taking to the center of the room to do cool down stretches as Eli finished the four Thrawn had gotten in without him. They left the arena to head to their dorm in good spirits.
…

Thrawn had pampered Eli in his own special way after graduation.

Eli’s parents didn’t stick around for very long. They went to dinner (without Thrawn) at a restaurant way out of their budget and ordered only appetizers. The waiter gave them dirty looks the entire time that only Eli seemed to notice. So when Eli got back to the dorm he was hungry, embarrassed and a little peeved at his parents for abandoning him in Coruscant because they were uncomfortable in the metropolis. How did they think he felt?

Thrawn had gotten some wine of medium quality, Eli’s favorite chips, and some party decorations, all things Eli laughed when imagining Thrawn buying them. A garland had been strung up between their bedpost and the wall, and three balloons had been blown up and dispersed rather sadly around the room. It looked more like the aftermath of a party than a lively shindig.

It was perfect.

Eli stood slack jawed in the doorway, sliding door threatening to close on him, as he took in the pathetic attempt at a party.

For the first time, Eli heard apprehension in Thrawn’s voice as he said, “I was unfamiliar with human celebratory precedents…” His voice picked up speed as he attempted to explain himself, “As with many aspects of tacit culture, there exists little in the way of manuals or instructional devices. I couldn’t find anything of use in the academy’s database-” Eli took a single step into the room and Thrawn’s mouth snapped shut.

“It’s… it’s perfect. Thank you,” Eli snorted as he noticed the bottle of wine in an ice bucket on Thrawn’s desk, “Did you really buy wine?” Thrawn looked back and forth between Eli and the wine, trying to figure out if ‘yes’ was the right answer.

“It’s just,” Eli tried not to laugh. He wanted to ensure Thrawn wouldn’t feel too embarrassed to never do this again, “It’s just that champagne is what you put in the bucket. That’s for fancy, hoity toity events. Nothing casual like this.”

“Oh… Is wine not served cold? Alcoholic beverages where I am from are almost always served warm. It seemed that was not the case in this galaxy.” Eli walked toward the wine and took it out of the bucket, inspecting the label.

“No, we have some hot drinks, but they’re mostly cold,” Eli turned back to Thrawn, smiling, “Did ya get cups and a cork screw?” Thrawn blinked at him. Eli’s smile only widened,

“Y’know for someone so put together, you really messed this one up.” Thrawn stayed silent. If Eli thought he was capable of it, he’d have said Thrawn was confused.

“You are not upset.”

“No,” Eli fetched his pocket knife out of his desk drawer, “Not at all,” He pried the cork from the bottle’s neck rather harshly, and let it fall to the ground. He held the open bottle out to Thrawn, “You graduated too, you get the first sip.”

The bottle had long been emptied, the now graduated students had moved to Thrawn’s bunk, legs interwoven on top of each other, sitting on opposite sides of the bed, the bag of chips opened in their lap, when Eli said, “Y’know, I relate to you so much, we’re in this together, off-worlders, yeah,” He gestured vaguely at Thrawn, “But you’re like… actually from another galaxy. When people say that t’me, they’re just bein’ mean.”

“I experienced much ostraciz- ostra…” Thrawn hummed distastefully, as if the malformed word had rotted in his mouth.

“Ostracization,” Eli provided dutifully.

“Yes- that at the hand of my schoolmates as well. I was from, as you say, a backwater planet. My classmates had all experienced formal schooling and dorm life before and I was…”

“Alien?” Eli snorted. Thrawn smiled softly, eyes closing.

“Yes, alien.”

“It’s hard to imagine you failing at anything,” Eli looked at the brown balloon on his desk, “I mean other than party-planning. I know it took you a while to get there, but I can’t imagine you not being able to instantly figure everything out.”

“I was clueless in my first week at the military academy I attended,” Thrawn cast a glance at Eli. His face had taken on a purple hue that Eli had never seen before, “I was never understood by any of my classmates, not only because my rhetoric was advanced but because what I had believed to be the standard language across the Ascendancy was actually only spoken on my home planet.”

“Dialects,” Eli slurred, “That’s what yer thinkin’ of. Y’were speakin’ a different dialect to yer peers-”

“You have always understood me, Cadet Vanto… When no one else can,” Thrawn said, red eyes fixed on Eli. In the infrared, Eli’s face lit up like the sunrise. Eli, for a moment, wished the bottle was not empty, so that he could sip it and break the tension.

Thrawn clearly sensed it too, and in his altered state had decided talking more was the solution, “I was unfamiliar with exercise equipment… when I had started living at the academy. All muscle mass I had gained was from physical labor. My planet had no need for equipment of the sort… There was something similar to this galaxy's treadmills. I had believed that simple observation was enough to grasp how to use the machine.” Eli had begun to guess where this was going. He put his hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle his premature laughter.

“No, oh gods,” Eli mumbled.

Thrawn was smiling now too as he said, “As you have already guessed, the momentum got the best of me and… What’s the colorful phrase you humans use? I ate shit.” Eli laughed so hard he stopped breathing. Long, painful gasps for air that allowed him to stop laughing for a small moment, small enough to look up at Thrawn and see the heavy-lidded mildly pleased expression on Thrawn's flushed face, and start laughing again.

When he finally calmed, Eli smiled and said, “Y’know, I am really glad we found you. Thanks for throwing me this shindig.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Chapter Text

“Uhm… Senior Captain?” Thrawn turned to Mid Commander Dalvu. She’d turned around in her chair to face her commanding officer. 

“Commander?” 

“There’s something on the sensors, something weird.” Thrawn walked from the center of the command walkway to Dalvu’s chair. He put a single hand on the back of her chair and lent forward, looking at her screens. Sure enough, a little alert was flashing to indicate an unknown ship was floating around towards the ventral side of the Springhawk . 

“It seems to be nothing more than an inactive cargo vessel,” Dalvu supplied, “But the model is nothing like I’ve ever seen before.” 

Thrawn thought for a moment, “It reminds me of ships I’d seen in Lesser Space.” 

“Th- Senior Captain,” Samakro warned from across the bridge. 

“Any signs of life, Commander?” 

The young woman nodded loosely as she said, “Only one, sir.” 

“Ready the tractor beam. Bring it to Bay 2.” Across the bridge, Samakro watched his career swirl down the drain.

…

The human had come willingly, though spitting expletives Thrawn had heard from General Skywalker once before. His Basic was clipped and his voice pitched low. He’d barked something angry and sharp at the officers attempting to handcuff him. Somehow, Thrawn understood that the man would come willingly. He raised a single open palm to the officers and they stopped immediately. Something in the way the man looked at Thrawn, looked with his placid, hollow brown eyes into Thrawn’s scarlet ones… something told Thrawn this man would be an invaluable asset. 

He was small, compared to the other chiss, and smaller yet compared to the humans Thrawn had seen before. His skin was a soft, earthy brown like a barren tree branch reaching out into a blue sky of chiss soldiers. He had freckles on his face, little splotches of darker color, mixed indiscriminately with dirt and engine grease. There were deep bags under his eyes, and a single industrial clamp keeping sections of grown-out hair out of his face. 

The human was led, apparently permitting charric tips to be nudged against his back to guide him, to a holding cell. He sat nicely, and waited for Thrawn. 

“My name is Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” Thrawn tried in careful Cheunh  as he sat across from the human. Guards were posted outside the door, but Thrawn felt no fear of this tiny human. He was small in height and mass, barely coming to Thrawn’s shoulder and hardly as bulky as even the scrawniest chiss. Thrawn didn’t feel threatened. 

The human squinted at him, and shook his head. It seemed he knew where this conversation was headed. 

“I speak Sy Bisti,” the man offered. His pronunciation was lacking, still haunted by the curtness of his native tongue. 

“Excellent,” Thrawn answered, “My name is Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo. You are aboard my vessel, the Springhawk .” 

“Pleasure,” the man said. He extended his right hand, palm open. When Thrawn didn’t react, he met his own right hand with his left and did a quick jerk, shaking his own hand, “Sorry force of habit.”

“A physical greeting, then. Chiss do it like this,” Thrawn extended his hand similar to how the man had before. The man mirrored his action and, with relative smoothness, was able to copy Thrawn’s movements. Thrawn took a second to marvel at how small the man’s hand looked, splayed across his forearm. 

“Oh gods,” The man sighed, pulling out of the handshake, “Why’re my manners? Name’s Eli Vanto.” 

“And how did you come to Ascendancy space, Eli Vanto?” Thrawn watched the man, this Eli shift gears. His eyes hardened and he settled back against the cold, hard wall of the cell. 

“Now, I thought we were playin’ nice,” he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Thrawn. Despite his size, Thrawn felt that it was a good attempt at intimidation. 

“I’m sorry to have offended you, Eli Vanto, but I am the captain of this vessel, and must protect it from threats.” 

“Well, where I come from, we get small talk out of the way ‘fore we start accusin’ people of things.” Thrawn leaned forward passively, trying to make sure Eli Vanto was comfortable. 

“I did not mean to accuse you of anything. Ascendancy space is no place for humans. I was simply making sure you were not going unarmed into a situation for which you should be armed.” Eli Vanto laughed lightly. Thrawn enjoyed the sound, and for a moment wished he could hear it again. 

“I think I’ll be alright, Senior Captain. I’m holdin’ my own against you, ain’t I?” 

“I suppose you are,” Thrawn hummed, “So, has there been enough small talk for you, Eli Vanto?” 

“Y’know…” Eli smiled, “I guess there has. Go on, Senior Captain.” Outside the cell, Samakro finally tuned back in. He had no time to listen to Thrawn’s foreplay. 

“So why have you come here, Eli Vanto?”

“Just Eli’s fine. I…” The man looked at the floor, his worn boots suddenly seeming very interesting, “I was exiled from the Galactic Empire, booted out here to die… None of the big wigs in Coruscant think that people live out here.” 

“I shouldn’t say, but many creatures inhabit this galaxy. Mayhaps with greater biodiversity than your galaxy.” 

“Hey now,” Eli laughed and Thrawn felt a little rattle of easy happiness. Samakro nearly retched, “Either way, we knew. Us Wild Space hicks. Y’all are bedtime story for us.”

“Interesting,” Thrawn leaned forward further, balancing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands before his face. Eli brought his hands together in his lap and began fiddling with the skin around his nails. Only now did Thrawn notice the ripped and red skin, dried blood still clinging to his cuticles. Thrawn understood. With a limited bank of supplies, including water for wound cleaning, priority had to be shown toward more life threatening injuries.

“My grandparents told us stories of the people made of the blue night sky, skin smattered with stars and meteors, who would meddle with the work of man,” Eli’s voice had taken on a fanciful tone, “They were allowed to do as they pleased, for they were made of the sky,” Eli laughed, “The sky, which provided space for our cargo ships to flourish, business that put food on our tables, and clothes on our backs. You… You stole our chickens,” Eli’s claim was met with blankness from Thrawn, “Well, supposedly.” 

“I find this a fascinating discussion, Eli.” Perhaps, Thrawn thought, this creature could be of use to me.

Chapter Text

“As the commanding officer of the Springhawk, to you, as an war hero of the Chiss Ascendancy, I cannot speak ill against you,” Ma’kro huffed, arms crossed, bouncing his leg, sitting in the puffy chair in the corner of Thrawn’s suite, “As your friend, and former first officer, I am honor-bound to tell you that you look like shit.” Thrawn turned to Ma’kro and opened his mouth to speak before snapping it shut and turning back to the mirror and appraising himself once more. Thrawn looked over his reflection and found nothing he would change. 

“What, specifically, is the issue?” Ma’kro snorted and laughed, before trying to explain himself and then beginning to laugh again. 

“You look like my grandpa,” Ma’kro got up from his chair to flick Thrawn’s lapel, “Like, seriously, this was cool when we were 12,” Thrawn frowned, “Y’know, Thrawn, I feel genuine confusion about how you manage to dress yourself so poorly. Isn’t fashion part of your whole,” Ma’kro waved his hand in a wide, nebulous gesture, “art-culture thing.”

“There is no logic in it, Ma’kro. I… Something in the code is broken, something I cannot ascertain causes me to forgo logical process.”

“What?” Ma’kro blinked at Thrawn, “One more time, in Cheunh.”

“I… I can’t think straight when thinking about him,” Thrawn admitted. Ma’kro tried to hold back a laugh. After all this was his brother in arms, one of the only friends either of them ever had, confiding in him enough to ask for his help. Laughing in his face… Was exactly what Ma’kro would do. He laughed lightly, keeping his composure as best he could. 

“Well that’s normal for someone you have a crush on.” 

“You say that as if you think I’m 14.” 

“You’re acting like a 14 year old! You seriously sound like a midager going on your first date.” Thrawn makes a face that Ma’kro is pretty sure he’s never seen before. Embarrassment. 

“Ma’kro, please help me.” Thrawn’s guard was down, shoulders hunched in a unique defeat. Love is a powerful thing. 

Ma’kro threw a weak punch into Thrawn's shoulder, “Alright, I’ll tell you what. You stay here and brush your fuckin’ hair into something more presentable and I’ll go get you some clothes from somewhere other than a dead guy’s closet.” Thrawn looked back into the mirror and assessed his hair. He turned to question Ma’kro but lost the will when he saw the deadpan expression on his friend’s face. 
…

In the end, Thrawn had forgone his short sleeve, collared shirt, and traded it out for a sleeveless tighter black shirt and a jacket. Ma’kro had convinced him to brush his hair back and let it fall loosely to the side, instead of slicked all the way back. 

“Your pants and shoes are a hopeless cause, but you don’t look like you bought all of your clothes at an estate sale, so it’s better than nothing,” Ma’kro conceded. Thrawn twisted around in the mirror trying to make sure his outfit was as perfect as it could be. His questis lit up where it sat on the side table next to what had become Ma’kro’s chair. 

“It’s that Eli boy of yours,” Ma’kro huffed. Thrawn’s eyes lit up, though his expression didn’t change. Ma’kro laughed as Thrawn went over to retrieve his questis. Thrawn really did seem like a midager going on their first date, hands trembling, eyes glowing bright. 

“He is outside,” Thrawn pocketed all his things hastily, keys, wallet, questis, hotel keycard, all jammed in his pockets in the half a second it took Ma’kro to get out of his chair. What a nice chair, he thought, mourning a little that he couldn’t just stay in Thrawn’s hotel room all day. He should try to convince Thalias to let him get one. 

They met up in the hotel lobby. The lift doors dinged, though the sound was muffled by the excited chatter of all the chiss in the lobby. No one spared a glance at the two war heroes making goo-goo eyes at each other. 

“Why, don’t you clean up nice?” Eli said, voice low and sly. 

“I must admit I had help,” Thrawn’s voice came close to trembling as Eli toyed with the hem of Thrawn’s jacket.

“Well, thank you, Ma’kro,” Eli looked beyond Thrawn to where Ma’kro stood, pouting, “Un’hee says he looks like an old man with his controversially young partner.”

“Only problem with that is that you’re getting further from young yourself, short stack,” Ma’kro huffed. 

“That’s what I told her!” Ma’kro couldn’t help himself, he laughed at that. Eli smiled and straightened Thrawn’s jacket. 

“Thanks for your help, Ma'kro. We’re off,” he waved loosely. 

“I want you back before midnight, young man,” Ma’kro barked, voice gruff, the same voice he put on when Sacher ran off with her girlfriend.

Eli laughed and gave a lazy salute, “Yes’sir.”

Chapter Text

“It’s grounds for an annulment,” Ar’alani pointed out. That, Eli thought, is bad news. 

“We’ve been legally married in the eyes of the Ascendancy for almost 15 years,” Thrawn offered. 

“That all goes out of the window if Thurfian gets the marriage annulled, and believe me he’s trying,” Eli put his head in his hands, “I’m only able to serve aboard this ship because I’m considered an Ascendancy citizen because I’m married to you. And we’re only ‘married’ by very loose Lysatran terms which was enough for Thalias to convince Thurfian.” Thrawn hummed thoughtfully. 

“It’s only a week, Eli. We…” Thrawn took a breath as if trying to convince himself as well, “We will be alright.” 
… 

“Chiss marriages are really, really elaborate compared to Lysatran ones,” Eli told his voice recorder. It was a habit he hadn’t kept up after Thrawn returned to the Ascendancy, but tonight he found that the silence without his bedfellow was deafening, “On Lysatra just loving each other is enough. Y’give your intended your word and a little gift and all's well that ends well. But boy, howdy, in the Ascendancy? First, you have to get it approved by the Patriel, frost forbid you live on two different planets. Then there’s all the proposal nonsense, then the living in separate quarters until you're married thing, and only then can you get married, but the wedding ceremony is so involved,” Eli groaned into the recorder, “It’s only the first night and I’m already losing my shit.” 
… 

By day three of seven the lack of sleep had begun to make the words on Thrawn’s questis swim. By day four, he’d conscripted a very eager Vah’nya to deliver his love notes. She tucked them into Eli’s door so that when it slid open when he packed up for the night, about ten pieces of paper fell into the floor. One or two were folded to look like lighthouses, which made Eli’s heart swell. Thrawn had to explain their purpose to his desert-dwelling partner and he’d once, in an uncharacteristically romantic mood, referred to Eli as his lighthouse, guiding him away from utter destruction and lighting up his life. Another note was shaped like a sun, another a bird, a butterfly. It seemed like anytime Eli passed Thrawn’s mind when they hadn’t been standing next to each other, he’d folded up something and asked Vah’nya to deliver it.

Eli actually got some sleep that night.

All it took was Eli giving Thrawn a look the next day and mumbling, “Got your note,” in Basic for twenty more papers to show up that night. 

“Y’know,” Vah’nya had said while she and Eli ate lunch that day, “He’s courting you like a period drama.”

“What?” Eli almost choked on his bread. 

“In like… the olden times this is how Chiss would romance each other. They were a lot more strict about the separation laws.” Yeah,  Eli thought, that’s a very Thrawn thing to do.

“So I’m supposed to do something in return?” Vah’nya put her sandwich down excitedly. 

“Oh frost, okay, so in Frozen Inside, Enserais is courting Makovu and-”

“Hold on, what?”

“Ugh, you’re so old. So there’s this period drama, Frozen Inside by a Rentorian author. The two main characters Enserais, a poor tourist on his wandering year, and Makovu, the daughter of the Patriel, fall in love. But there’s a snowstorm and they’re trapped in Makovu’s mansion and have to separate but are trapped together- It’s so romantic!”

“What does this have to do with Thrawn and I,” Eli huffed, “I mean, besides the pre-wedding business.”

“It’s one of Thrawn’s favorite books,” Eli’s mouth fell open in shock, “Ew, close your mouth. I can see your lunch,” Vah’nya wrinkled her nose in disgust, “He asked me what the modern Chiss young people were up to, culturally, and I said we’re all obsessed with romance novels now, so he said what kinds- And I was shocked too- But I gave him my copy of Frozen Inside because, y’know, Rentor, and he gave it back to me like two days later and all he said was-”

“It was enlightening,” Eli said, putting on his best impression of Thrawn. It was, of course, scarily accurate.

Vah’nya laughed, “Yeah. And like, the other navigators are too young for that kind of book, so I wanted to talk about it with someone in real life, and he seemed just as excited about it as I was. We’ve read all of the author’s books.”

 Eli smiled conspiratorially, “He’s such a softie. Ar’alani doesn’t believe me, but he’s a total romantic.” 

 “Yeah! That paper-folding-thing he’s been doing is right out of Frozen Inside. Enserais makes them out of travel maps because,” Vah’nya put her hand over her heart and swooned, “In all his life of traveling, she was what his heart was looking for.”

 “Oh so the lighthouses…” Eli smiled to himself, “So what does Whats-her-name do in return?”

 “She embroiders him a bouquet of flowers she was able to see from her window in the summer on a piece of her favorite ribbon because his beauty is worth ten times more than any silly item of clothing she owns.” Okay, Eli thought, I can work with that. 
…

 Vah’nya was delivering Eli’s burgundy, blue, and brown pipe cleaner bouquet, tied with a strip of his favorite pajama shirt when she spotted Ar’alani. 

 “Admiral,” the navigator hummed, making no move to hide the bouquet. 

 “Navigator, what are you holding?” 

 “Oh this,” she held out the craft. Ar’alani took it with mild suspicion, “It’s nothing.”

 “More of Thrawn’s little notes to Eli,” Ar’alani hummed. 

 “No, actually this one is from Eli to Thrawn.” Ar’alani’s unimpressed expression didn’t change. 

 “Very well,” She turned away, but Vah’nya could hear the smile in her voice, “As long as it stays above board.”
… 

 At the end of the seven days, Ar’alani called both of her blushing midagers, Thrawn and Theliva, into her office. They stood as far from each other as the office allowed and tried, with very visible effort, not to stare at the other officer. 

 “You wished to see us, Admiral,” Eli said first. 

 “I did,” Thrawn’s usually crisp attention was sloppy at best and Eli’s still-unnerving white and brown eyes could hardly be considered focused. They were bloodshot, as he had called it, enough to look like any other chiss, “As I’m sure you are aware, your probationary period is over, and you may begin cohabitating again,” Eli and Thrawn slumped in unison. They locked eyes for the first time and Ar’alani watched physical relief flood both of them, “But,” they both snapped to attention again, “You must deliver your silly love notes to each other in person. I will not have you bothering our Senior Navigator with this foolishness. Do you understand me?”

 “Yes ma’am,” They both said. Ar’alani suspected she’d never get used to hearing them puppet each other like that, tone and timing exactly the same.

 “And, you are both taking a sick day tomorrow to get some fucking sleep.”

 “Yes ma’am. Thank you, ma’am,” They said. Ar’alani dismissed them with a loose wave of her hand. The door was hardly closed behind them before they were kissing in the hall. Ar’alani put her head in her hands and sighed. 

Chapter Text

“Five credits says they’re sleeping together,” Lomar offers. The table unanimously choked on their drinks. 

Pyrondi recovered first, “What? No. Gods, Lomar.” 

“That’s so gross, Lomar,” Faro wrinkled her nose.

“Yeah, but you all knew who I was talking about!” Lomar said, as if that meant he was winning. 

“Yeah, but that’s their business. And Thrawn is like… our dad,” Hammerly mumbled. 

“Nope, no. I have a normal relationship with Thrawn. I don’t want him as my father,” Faro protested.

“Yeah,” Pyrondi snorted, “Because you’re like his younger sister and our wine aunt.” 

“I’m not that much older than you!” Faro groaned. 

“You are closer to Thrawn in age than you are to us,” Hammerly hummed. 

“I don’t know why I go out drinking with you guys,” Faro grumbled into her glass of wine. Despite the loudness of the of the bar, the group fell silent. 

“Well, none of you guys would have a problem with them, y’know… Right?” Lomar said into his pint, “Cause like… my step-mom is a twi’lek and she’s super cool and she and my dad really love each other y’know.” 

“Well, Mina and I are dating,” Pyrondi said. Faro and Lomar turned to the apparent couple. Hammerly’s face flushed, and she turned to Pyrondi. 

“Jay…” She whined. Pyrondi kissed her cheek and Hammerly couldn’t help but smile. 

“Congrats, you crazy kids,” Lomar offered his fist and thumped it against Hammerly’s. All eyes turned to Faro with suspicion. 

“Look, I don’t do any of that romance stuff. I learned it wasn’t for me a long time ago,” Faro waved her arm in surrender. 

“Yeah but like…” Hammerly started, “You don’t have any problem with any of that, right?”

“Who Thrawn is holding hands with doesn’t bother me,” Faro shrugged, “As long as he still had a freehand to sign my paycheck.” 

“Hear, hear!” Pyrondi raised her cocktail and everyone followed, clicking glasses. 

“Well so, Lomar thinks they’re having sex,” Hammerly put her hand spread on the table, like she was putting out a hand of cards, “I don’t agree. I think they’re dating.” 

“Oh, yeah, obvi,” Pyrondi laughed. 

“What do you think, Karyn? They fucking? Dating? Neither?” Lomar gestured with his pint. Karyn looked into her wine glass for a long time.

“I think… I think that Thrawn and Eli are more than anything we have words for. They complete each other. Whoever’s up there, making us all, they made them to be two halves of a whole. The durasteel in each of their bones is identical. 

Have you ever seen one try to function without the other? Like, they can do it, but there’s something profoundly wrong about seeing them alone. They pull toward each other like magnets. It’s more than we have names for.” The table was silent for a long moment. They all looked around at each other, then to Faro, who was staring into her swirling wine glass. 

“Wow, I think I’m tipsier than I thought I was.”

Chapter Text

Thrawn spent most of his time watching the doors. It took Ar’alani a long time to realize that the exits of a room were where his eyes fixed when he wasn’t taking in the art on the walls, or the carving on the balustrades. He was anxious, that much was certain. Ar’alani could sense it rolling off him like waves lapping off the shore, a subtle, but persistent rhythm of unease. He was always waiting for the ball to drop, always waiting for the next assignment, the next task, the next purpose. He was like a hunting growser stuck in a cage waiting for his master to open the door and let him out. 

Thrawn always needed a task, or else he got sulky. It didn’t take Ar’alani as long to notice that tidbit. He hated busy work, when he truly couldn’t pretend that the work was sharpening his skills or readying his mind or some other excuse. She’d only seen it happen once, when he really truly ran out of things to occupy him with, problems to turn over in his mind.  He did his routine duties as ordered, but spent every unoccupied second looking out the viewport with this look on his face. Hands folded behind his back, hair falling into his eyes, unbothered by it and this expression. Jaw clenched, heavy brow, scowling but also somehow begging. Begging for something to happen. Something specific. 

“What do you want to be out there?” she’d asked him. 

“I don’t know, Ziara… I don’t know.” 
…

Eli has never been understood. Not by anybody. His teachers never understood the way his legs would bounce at his desk, eyes fixed out the window, watching the bulls being driven through town. His Myomar classmates never understood his tutoring lessons, never understood the way he grasped mathematics. No one ever understood the comfort Eli took in the stars. 

“Don’t you wanna take a break? Get your feet on the ground? Get some air that hasn’t been recycled in your lungs?”  No. Absolutely not. If he could help it, Eli Vanto would never touch the ground again. 

No one ever understood that. Until Thrawn. …

“Are we taking shore leave any time soon, Commodore?” 

“No, Lieutenant Commander.” 

“Of course, Commodore.”

“Just curious, Lieutenant Commander?” 

“I…” Eli shifted on his feet, “I don’t like shore leave, not really. It messes with my rhythm.”

“I understand completely, Vanto.”
…

Faro watched Thrawn and Eli go over a supply report. They leaned into each other, Eli’s left side against Thrawn’s right. Each used their nondominant hand to hold the datapad, and gestured with their dominant hands at the report. Two halves of one singular person, conjoined at the hands that brushed together at their sides.

It was hard to figure out where one of them began and the other ended. When they debrief, Eli and Thrawn become one speaker, finishing thoughts and sentences. Eli provides the logistical setup, Thrawn delivers the explanation with utter smoothness, like good whiskey sliding down one’s throat. The perfect one-two. 

It isn’t until Eli disappeared that Faro notices any of their melding. Sometimes, at the beginning of meetings, Thrawn would just stare at the door, as if waiting for someone to go through. Waiting for Eli to display his graphs and charts, waiting. Half of a single person. 
…

When Vah’nya met Thrawn for the first time, she understood. She understood who the man in Eli’s mind was. Eli’s mind reached for him without effort. Every once in a while there’d be a little flash of him.

“I bet he’d like this.” “I wish I could show him.” “Oh, this is what he was talking about.” When you spend so much time with someone, Vah’nya knew, you never really stop thinking about them. For Eli especially, when you care about someone, when their wellbeing is in your hands, it’s easier to continue to care. 

Vah’nya could feel the pain of “Good day, Lieutenant Vanto,” for days after. Rejection. Like a freshly rooted plant being pruned too close to the stem. Cut off and unable to grow. The time had come for half of a soul to learn to live without its other half. 

Chapter Text

Eli had grown accustomed to the sound of little girls crying. He wouldn’t say he was happy about this prospect, but it was helpful when keeping his head on straight when comforting the girls. Thrawn, it seemed, had not grown accustomed to Un’hee’s gasping sobs. 

Thrawn waved his hands around once or twice in aborted gestures.  He opened his mouth, trying to find something to stay. Still, Un’hee wailed on. 

“What do you want of me, little one?” 

“I was eating dinner and I b-bit into the bread and then- and then- and then-” Un’hee’s attempt at explaining dissolved into more sobbing. 

“Are you in pain?” Thrawn asked, finally bending to the ground to be in Un’hee’s level. With the crack his knee made, he suspected it would be a moment before he could ascend to full height again. 

“A little,” she mumbled into the back of her hand.

“Where?” The young chiss opened her mouth wide, using her tongue to probe the hole that her apparently lost tooth had recently left. She made a sound Thrawn could interpret as, “Here.”

“Oh, you’ve lost a tooth. Where did the tooth end up?” Un’hee extended and opened her balled up left hand, revealing her disgusting, spit and blood soaked tooth. Thrawn only felt relief that she didn’t swallow it. 

“You will be alright, little one,” Thrawn assured. He extended his hand, large and withered next to her small clammy fist. Instead of what he assumed she’d do, depositing the tooth in his hand, Un’hee flung herself forward into his chest. Her wet hand was pressed between them and Thrawn only briefly wrinkled his nose before closing his arms around her. She fit so neatly against his chest, arms wrapped around her and then some. He put his hand against the back of her head, holding her close to his chest. Some kind of supernatural instinct to protect wriggled in his chest. 

“You are alright, little one.” Un’hee’s sobs eventually trailed off. She and Thrawn had slumped, him sitting cross-legged and she in his lap, still held to his chest. They breathed together, deep breaths in, long breaths out. 

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah,” Un’hee mumbled, voice raspy. 

“Now, we must clean the wound, and you will tell me why this was so distressing to you.” Thrawn dutifully carried his little girl through her quarters to her private restroom. He walked her through swishing out the blood with water, washing off the tooth, finding a small container for it. He wet a washcloth with cold water and pressed it gently to her face, soothing where exertion had tinged her cool blue skin purple. When they were done, Un’hee clambered back into his arms, face pressed to his chest. 

“Let us tell Eli the good news,” Thrawn said as he hefted Un’hee off the counter and into the air. 

“Good news?”

“Where he comes from, losing one’s ’baby teeth’ is celebrated. It is a rite of passage, and the one who lost their tooth must give it to the ‘tooth fairy’ in exchange for a financial gift. Then they wait for the new tooth to descend, and all is well.” 

“So, I’m not going to have a hole in my mouth forever?”

“No, little one.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of,” she explained. Her voice went quiet and she mumbled into Thrawn’s shoulder , “And the blood.” 

“An understandable reaction. Your survival instincts are impressive,” Thrawn put his hand against the back of her head once again, “One must always be aware of any sign of bleeding.” Un’hee mumbled something into Thrawn’s shoulder, before slumping, letting herself be supported utterly by Thrawn. 

They made it to Eli’s office without event. The human was very grateful for the break. He too lifted Un’hee into the air and swung her about in celebration. 

“You lost your first tooth, sunshine!” Un’hee giggled, muttering weak protests in Basic, “You gotta make sure you put it under your pillow tonight,” Eli assured her seriously when he stopped spinning. 

“Thrawn told me you’d say that,” she said. Eli turned his attention to Thrawn, where the man stood, arms crossed behind his back, by the door. 

“It was an aspect of Lysatran culture that I found enjoyable,” he explained, almost sheepishly. 

“You’re lucky I find you enjoyable,” Eli made a mock scowl at Thrawn. Eli set Un’hee down so she could run off to her bedroom. 

“Thank you for doing that for her,” Eli hummed. He wrapped his arms loosely about Thrawn’s waist. Thrawn managed to slump forward enough to put his head on Eli’s shoulders. 

“I am glad she felt able to come to me with her problems,” Thrawn said. 

“I know! That’s exciting,” Eli’s voice was full of fond encouragement, “She likes you a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Thrawn exhaled relief, “I’m very glad.” 

Chapter Text

Sharing a bed with Eli was one of the greatest things Thrawn had ever experienced. Not only did it bind them forever in the eyes of the Ascendancy, keeping him close physically and metaphorically to Thrawn at all times, but it brought them together as companions. 

And, by the frost goddesses, Mitth’eli’vanto was simply the warmest creature Thrawn had the pleasure of touching. Chiss, compared to other mammalian bipeds that Thrawn had encountered, had very poor thermoregulation. The thing that distanced them from similar species was the cultural taboos of suffering the chill. It was something like a rite of passage to be displayed publicly and to be seen resisting the chill. Everyone knew it was cold, but only the strong could stand outside in their uniforms without wavering. So there was such a powerful relief in curling up next to Eli in bed. He was warm and safe and soft. And right now he was grabbing the comforter and not allowing Thrawn to pull the covers off to get under them. 

“No,” he whined, “You’re so cold.” 

“I know,” Thrawn said evenly, “I would like to be warm.” 

“No,” Eli protested. He rolled up tighter. Thrawn wiggled his hands under the comforter. Eli yelped at the feeling of his cold hands against Eli’s bare skin. Thrawn managed to rend his arms all the way under Eli and held him into the air. The blanket furled out from under Eli and Thrawn let him down. He crawled into bed before Eli could wrap himself up again. He curled around Eli. 

“You’re lucky you’re tall enough to reach the top shelf,” Eli groaned, face pressed against Thrawn’s soft sweater. Thrawn hummed noncommittally. One cold hand twisted itself up in Eli’s mop of hair, petting idly. Eventually, Eli pushed his warm hands up under Thrawn’s sweater, fingers dancing delicately along the twitching muscles of Thrawn’s abs. Slowly, but not fearfully, they explored each other, bringing themselves closer to the other. Heat transferred gradually, until both were as warm or cool as they ought to be.

Thrawn’s other hand wrapped under Eli’s tank top, splayed out possessively against Eli’s back. The huge comforter cocooned them in together. 

“I simply do not understand your insistence upon not dressing for the weather,” Thrawn said, low voice rumbling in his throat. Eli felt the words on his head more than he heard them. 

“It’s about temperature regulation,” Eli huffed. He traced his finger in loose circles on Thrawn’s stomach, watching the older man squirm, ticklish. 

The door to their bedroom creaked open slowly. It hadn’t been shut, not enough to not allow visitors at all, but just enough to give them privacy. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eli hummed from within their little pod. Un’hee made a confused little laugh of a noise. Neither could see her very well, nor could they hear her footsteps through the carpeted bedroom. Until she suddenly stood over them, attempting to find her father in the mess of blankets. Eli wiggled out of Thrawn’s arms enough to pop his head out. Un’hee laughed again at the sheer mess of Eli’s hair floppy where it had reacted poorly to Thrawn’s sweater.

“Hi, Pops.” 

“Little One,” Thrawn said, by way of greeting. His eyes were peacefully closed against the morning light through the windows. 

“You two need to get up, or we’re gonna be late for the art show.” 

“Since when are you so responsible?” Eli said, mock affront combined with a fondness he could never suppress. 

“Since you both got so obsessed with sleeping in,” Un’hee snipped, poking Thrawn’s side. She’d entered the phase of midager-dom when you felt comfortable enough with your parents, but uncomfortable enough with the world to talk back. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll get up in a minute.”

“Five minutes,” Thrawn argued. 

“Something you have to understand, Sunshine,” Eli began as he wiggled out of Thrawn’s grasp, “is that your father will devote every synapse of his big brain to manipulating his loved ones into letting him sleep in.”

“Libel and slander,” Thrawn claimed, even as he reached for Eli, who had finally stumbled out of bed. 

“It’s almost noon and you’re still trying to stay in bed,” Un’hee countered. 

“It is an understandable impulse,” was Thrawn’s attempt at a defense. 

“Yes it is, hun,” Eli said, kissing Thrawn on the forehead, “So, you can either come with us to the art show that you wanted to go to, or Un’hee and I can get brunch without you.”

Eli cast a look over Thrawn’s head to his daughter. She smiled at him conspiratorially. Eli stomped loudly over to the door with Un’hee. 

“Bye, Dad!” Un’hee hummed before shutted the door while staying in the room. They stood there for a moment waiting for Thrawn to move. After a few seconds of baited breath they watched Thrawn pop his head out of the covers. He looked around the room before finding Un’hee and Eli standing by the door. He frowned at them. 

“Up and at ‘em, hun!” Eli beamed, “Time to get dressed!”

Chapter Text

Red had always been one of Eli’s favorite colors. He might not have said that if you’d asked him, but looking around at his treasured personal items, a good many of them were red. It was a striking color, emotional and vibrant, like him. It was a nice break from the dull grey and desaturated green. 

Fleshy chunks of someone’s something flew out of Thrawn’s mouth with a pronounced spitting sound. He spit again, clearing what he could and for what he couldn’t, he used the back of his hand to wipe it away. It smeared across his cheek. His hands were red, just pure way-brighter-than-you’d-think blood red. Stringy bits of tendons and viscera Eli could not search through his high school anatomy lessons to identify were flicked from Thrawn’s hands as he, in one quick motion, jerked them out to the side. Blood stained his cheeks and chest and hair and mouth and teeth and hands and wrists and arms and-

And Thrawn looked good in red. 
…

Thrawn’s pointer and middle finger on his left hand had been broken in the fight, as well as the pinky on his left. So, after properly medicating him, Eli took to cleaning off the man’s nails. 

“Shouldn’t we splint them first, sir?”

“This is more important,” Thrawn assured him. Eli had accepted that. It turned out that Thrawn had an intense nail care system, all kinds of tools Eli had never seen before. They sat on the couch in Thrawn’s quarters. Eli gently took Thrawn’s injured left hand in his and began to clean the dried blood out of Thrawn’s cuticles. Thrawn had instructed him to start with his left, so that the hand in the least amount of pain would be saved for last. 

“So you’re really into nail care, huh?” Eli mumbled without thinking. He fished a chunk of something out from under Thrawn’s nail. 

“Yes,” was Thrawn’s clipped and pained response. Eli frowned. He had to keep Thrawn talking. 

“Is that because of the state we found you in exile or…?”

“No.” The man hissed angrily. 

“Work with me, Thrawn.” 

“I am in pain, Eli,” he snarled. 

“And thinking about the pain’s gon’ make it worse so talk to me, goddamnit.” Thrawn looked up from his battered hands and made eye contact with Eli. A rumbling growl writhed in his chest, but Eli held his gaze. They huffed at each other until Thrawn relented, shifting his eyes back down to his lap. 

“Humans ain’t got none of yer growlin’ and hissin’ but we are as stubborn as the day is long,” Eli laughed. 

“And certainly foolish… I must apologize. In the Ascendancy, my actions would have been considered a grave personal attack.” Eli moved to brace Thrawn’s middle finger for cleaning. The man hissed, not in anger but pain. 

“Humans aren’t big on apologizin’. We don’t like seeing others embarrassed.” 

“I understand…” Thrawn breathed heavily as Eli probed under his nail, “No- No, my preference for cleanliness was not caused by my exile. I grew up in a fishing village and was always-” Thrawn grunted as Eli pushed against his cuticle, trying his hardest to be as gentle as possible, while failing, “I was always disgusted by the gore.” 

“I’ve never had fish before,” Eli said vacantly. He’d moved on to Thrawn's much more broken pointer finger. 

Thrawn hissed, though continued talking, “I cannot recommend it.” 

“So… what happened in there?” Eli said, and instantly regretted it. Thrawn was silent for a long moment outside of the little noises of pain. 

“Defense of my life became paramount to de-escalating the situation,” Thrawn answered, practiced and level, like he’d prepared this response. 

“And what caused them to threaten your life?” Eli switched gears as he finished with Thrawn’s left hand, “Here, you want a break?”

“No. Please.” 

“Of course…” Eli took Thrawn right hand in his, feeling it tremble slightly against his palm, “Question still stands.” He set to work. 

“… Attacks upon my crew were threatened,” This answer, Thrawn paused to think about, “I responded by informing them that whatever physical harm they caused to my crew would be enacted upon them tenfold… They were not pleased by this.” Eli laughed heartily, pausing his cleaning to rock backwards. Thrawn looked at him with wide, yet dim red eyes. 

“All this trouble you got yourself in, defendin’ us? Half of the crew would throw you to the hounds faster ‘an you could say woof.”

“How they feel about me is beside the point,” Thrawn exhaled shakily as Eli worked his broken pinky, “They work hard for the Empire.”

“Hardly,” Eli huffed. 

“I will discuss this no longer. I do not regret my actions,” Thrawn hissed. 

“And that’s why you’re better than everyone else on this ship. A’ight. All clean. Let’s go splint-” Before Eli could instruct Thrawn further, the chiss slumped forward. He laid his head on the soft curve of Eli’s neck. Eli made a soft, almost animalistic noise of concern, one he had heard Thrawn make before. It seemed to relax Thrawn in the slightest. 

“Must be tired, now all that anger’s gone,” Thrawn hummed something of an affirmative. Eli put his hands in Thrawn’s hair, brushing it away from his face with his nails, “You’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”