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badger-writes · 3 years

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Star Wars OC Ship Week 2021 - for light and love

2 - Fluff/Humor

“...And then I told him my name was ‘Kolto’,” Kelto despaired to Jora Malli later, in the Temple Refectory.

Jora pursed her lips sympathetically, nodding. For the better part of the lunch hour, she had endured her fellow Jedi Knight’s attempt to process the encounter which had transpired between himself and Knight Sskeer in the medical bay earlier that morning. To say he was taking it rather poorly was, well - not exactly correct.

“You did well to come to a friend for support,” she said neutrally, cutting into her shaak steak - a staple of Togruta cuisine. “In my experience, attempting to bottle your emotions concerning these experiences never ends well. Instead of deferring a resolution for later, you seek closure now, so you might move on. ‘There is no emotion - ‘”

“‘There is peace’, yeah, I know, I know.” Kelto groaned and sank his face into his palms, propping his elbows on either side of his platter of Rodian foodstuffs. “Not a whole lot of peace going on here right now, though…”

“Okay - then walk me through what you’re feeling. How would you describe your emotions?”

“Uhhh… Frazzled? Flustered? Deeply conflicted and anxious? I mean, you know, with me that’s not so much a him thing as an in general thing, but, you know - ”

“Kelto,” she said, a touch sternly.

“Sorry, sorry.”

He sighed, picked out a cranker root from the corner of his plate, and broke into it with his teeth. As he chewed, Jora looked over his right shoulder as surreptitiously as he could; sitting at another table, head bowed over his own meal, was Sskeer himself. How he’d managed to occupy the table behind them without Kelto noticing, she had no clue, but presumed he’d been too wound up in venting his emotions to notice.

From the way Sskeer had oriented his chair and met her gaze in furtive glances, she could tell he was listening. Knowing what she knew of her mutual friends, she was willing to hazard a guess that he was harboring similar conflict, though he would never say so aloud.

Perhaps the Force was providing her an opportunity to resolve both sides of this spiritual conflict at once.

“Start from the beginning,” she said, after a sip of water. “When you first saw him. What was your reaction?”

“At first? Um, well…” Kelto gulped. “Well, the first thing I noticed is that he was huge, right? Not like Dowutin huge, of course, but this guy could take an airbus going 50 over the speed regulations straight to the chest and not even feel it. A-and buff, too. Burly, even. The kind of physique a sentient like me can only dream of. The kind you chisel out of marble and put in the Galactic Museum a couple hundred years later. It was - he was very handsome, is all I’ll say.”

Sskeer, leaning over his dish, perked up. A bemused smirk plied its way onto his face.

“I’m fairly certain he’s not that physically impressive,” Jora cut in, speaking to them both.

“I mean, yeah, probably not. But that’s just how I felt! I couldn’t help it, I jumped straight into awkwardly crushing on him and I’d only seen him for like two seconds.”

“And then you saw his many scorch marks. From his errant training session.”

“Right,” Kelto said, as Sskeer snorted behind him. “Which - should probably be the first thing I pick up on, as a healer. But what do you want me to say? This morning was almost as much of a disaster as I am.”

“Kelto,” she said warningly.

“I-I can’t help it, Jora. I make jokes when I feel nervous or awkward. Which is almost all the time.”

“But they don’t all need to have you as the butt,” she said, jabbing at him through the air with her fork. “Be kinder to yourself, please. Make it a habit. For me?”

“R-right. Sorry.”

“Keep going. What did you think when you first started talking?”

The Rodian took a slice of galma fruit and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. “To be honest, I thought he was a nut,” he said with a shrug.

This time when Sskeer glanced over, he looked just a touch offended.

“A nut,” Jora repeated. The surprise in her voice was largely an affectation; she knew Sskeer had adopted odd, borderline overzealous habits in the pursuit of becoming a Jedi Guardian. She teased him for it occasionally, a reaction to which he’d become accustomed. Here, though, she sensed an opportunity for someone else to do her dragging for her - apparently quite candidly.

“Oh, sure. I mean, who else do you know sets the training droids a couple notches above safety standards so he can really feel it when he gets spanked with a training saber, huh?”

She sputtered into her cup, lifting a hand to hide a smile. She really wouldn’t have taken that drink if she knew that sentence was coming.

“Right?!” Kelto gestured animatedly, oblivious to Sskeer glaring daggers over his shoulder. “How is that supposed to make you a better Jedi?”

“I’m sure he has good reasons,” she coughed, thumping her chest. “Being a protector - it requires a certain discipline.”

“I wouldn’t call that discipline. I’d call that masochism. But only because I’m a coward,” he confessed.

“Be kind.”

“It’s a joke!”

“You say it too easily. Like you believe it’s the truth.”

“It kind of is. That’s what makes it funny.”

She gave him a look. Sskeer did, too. His was less pointed, though.

“Assuming that’s true,” Jora continued, “Allow me to pull from your earlier statements two points: one, you find him physically attractive. Two, his habits confuse you. Would you say that’s accurate?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Very well. Is there anything else that you’d like to joke about, since that’s apparently the only way of pulling a straight answer out of you?”

“I can give straight answers!”

“Feel free anytime, for Force’s sake.”

Sskeer was smirking again, she noticed, poking around on his plate. Apparently, he found the way her scheme to annoy him with secondhand ridicule had imploded on her amusing, the bastard.

Kelto sighed, deflating slightly. “I - look, I’m sure he’s not as strange as I’m making him out to be. Just, you know… really serious. But I didn’t really get much else out of him while he was there.”

“You used Force healing on him, as I recall. That didn’t merit any kind of response?”

“O-oh yeah, I did do that! He seemed… pretty impressed, I guess. I - wasn’t really expecting that, to be honest.”

“And he caught you before you passed out. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“True, true. And then he held me up til I recov - “ Suddenly, Kelto’s cheeks went a deep shade of green. “A-actually, let’s not get back into that part.”

“Why?” Jora cocked her head, montrals shifting. “I wasn’t aware there was anything wrong with catching feelings unexpectedly.”

“I mean - mmmaybe not, no. I - I just don’t think I, you know, kept control of them very well there.”

“We’re only mortal, Kelto. You’re in your right to forgive an occasional emotion.”

“I--” The Rodian checked over his shoulder - the wrong one - and leaned in close, framing his huge, panicky eyes with both hands. “Jora, I was full-on touching his chest.”

Behind him, Sskeer’s eyes went wide, and he too wound up coughing water back into his glass. It served him right, Jora thought.

“He was holding you in his arms,” she said evenly. “You were disoriented. Worse things have happened.”

“Y-yeah, but - but I don’t want to end up like that horndog Elzar Mann!”

No sooner had Sskeer finished clearing his lungs than he had to duck and press his face into the crook of his elbow to stifle a laugh, so as to avoid being discovered.

“Really, have you seen that guy make eyes at Avar Kriss lately?” Kelto continued conspiratorially. “They hide it so poorly! It’s a wonder the Council hasn’t stepped in yet.”

“I doubt it’s much of a priority for either Master Lahru, Veter, or Yoda to be poking their noses into what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their bedchambers.”

“I mean - if word ever really gets out, it technically will be!”

“Only technically,” she retorted.

Kelto blinked. “Oh no,” he murmured. “This isn’t going to be another one of your lectures, is it?”

Jora hesitated for only half a second. “All I’m saying is if you really look at the Code--”

“If you start talking about the difference between celibacy and purity again--”

“‘Attachment’ is not the same thing as connection, to suggest otherwise is such a literalist misinterpretation--”

Gesticulating, Jora caught the eye of Sskeer again. He was grinning like a nexu, the scaly skink.

“What I mean to say is,” she said, waving her hands in some vague effort to get them both back on-track, “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling right now, Kelto. Nothing whatsoever. It’s only a natural part of life, just like joy and sorrow.”

“Yeah, duh,” he replied, peeling a hardboiled vakiir egg. “Not my first day out of the creche. It just - I don’t know, it feels weird not being able to act on it.”

“Why?”

“Well, the big one is the Code, but let’s not get into that again. The other half is - well, Jora, I barely know him. I don’t even know if he likes me as a person, let alone romantically, or… you know, like that. But I can’t imagine he would.”

Jora risked a peek, raising an eyebrow. Sskeer shrugged, nonplussed, in a manner that communicated either that he could take or leave him - or just the general sentiment of ‘what do you want from me?’. Possibly both at once. In return, she flattened the eyebrow and pursed her lips to sardonically ‘thank’ him for his ‘help’.

“Why do you presuppose the inevitability of rejection, in either case?”

“I just - I don’t know, I’m a pessimist. What else do you want me to say, Jora? We live in totally different worlds.”

“Not that different. You are both Jedi. And remember what he called you before he left - a credit to the Order, I believe were his words?”

“That’s what everyone says after getting Force healed,” Kelto grumbled, rubbing the back of his head under his pom.

She shook her head doubtfully, skewering another bite of steak. “You’re focused too much on the banality of your own excellence,” she said, chewing. “Think back to his reaction. How he spoke to you. The way he looked at you. What did he think of you while you were together?”

He shrugged helplessly. Then his brow furrowed in thought. “Well, I guess… there were times when he seemed to pick up on - you know, everything I was going through. Granted, I wasn’t being very subtle, but…

“I guess I’d say he was being… patient? Like he understood I was a little… distracted by him. Well, he was a little touchy about the ‘masochist’ comment, but… he didn’t, like, tell me to settle down or anything. And then there were some weird moments where he - I don’t know, was trying to joke with me?”

“How so?”

“Like... being sort-of flirty, but not really? Like when he leaned back on the table, he had this little smile, and then when he left he sort of whispered right into my ear? Little things like that.”

“Oh yes. ‘Little things’. Like whispering in your ear.”

Kelto blinked owlishly. “... I mean. Do people not… do that?”

“Generally, in polite company? No.”

“Oh.” Kelto’s flush deepened. “Oh.”

“You really should leave the healing halls and try talking to people every once in a while, Kelto.”

“You don’t think he was…? F-for me? And I missed it??”

“I don’t know,” Jora hummed. “Without him here to speak for himself, I can’t say. I suppose you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Kelto whined, sinking his face into his hands. “But that means I have to talk to him,” he protested.

“Yes,” she replied bluntly. “That’s how having a dialogue is supposed to work.”

“I-I can’t talk to him! I mean-- I made such a fool of myself earlier! You really think I can just… speak to him, normally?”

“Well, if you don’t, what’s your backup plan?”

“Useless gay pining, mostly. Or leaving the Order, maybe?”

“Kelto.”

“Look at me, Jora. I’m not built to carry a torch for anybody. I-I can barely make eye contact with people I’m not crushing on. My best chance at this point is just going back to the healing halls and hoping he doesn’t come back in too often. Maybe I’ll move rooms, now that he knows where my ward is. I’ll ask about it.”

“You can’t just hide from your problems in the medical bay, Kelto.”

“Why not? I--” Kelto bit the inside of his cheek and sighed. “Dammit, Jora, what else am I supposed to do?”

She dropped her fork on her plate and framed the sides of her face with her hands, as he had done earlier. “Literally just talk to him.”

“H-how? I’m not - I’m not brave enough, okay? What am I supposed to do?”

She groaned, folding her palms over her eyes. Through her fingers, she could see Sskeer raising his brow, lifting out of his chair slightly; not yet, she thought, shaking her head just slightly. He sat back down, but still seemed concerned.

“Indulge me,” Jora said finally, leaning her elbows on the table and holding out her hands towards Kelto, as if she were trying to physically channel the confidence to hold a single conversation into him through the Force. “Take a moment, don’t think about how you think you did, or what you thought he was thinking, in those moments. Don’t think about possible futures where you’re together or just friends or outright rejected. Just-- think about what you felt. How he made you feel. Don’t focus on yourself. Just find your center, search your feelings... and tell me what you find.”

Kelto opened his mouth - closed it - looked down at the tabletop, drumming his fingers. “I…”

From behind, Sskeer watched him think. Anticipation glimmered in his eyes.

“...I like him,” Kelto decided. “Really, I do. He’s… patient and serious, and respectful, once you earn it. A little intense, obviously, but… strong, and driven. I’d… I want to know him better. However that happens.”

“And your other feelings?”

He took a slow, deep breath. “I… can move past them, if I really have to. It’s what we’re trained for. It’s just… powerful, I guess is the word. I didn’t see it coming. It… knocked me off my feet.”

“I’m told that’s often how it feels,” Jora said kindly.

He nodded shyly.

“Do you plan to ask him?”

“Not - not right away, I don’t think. I-- that’s not the right foot for any relationship to get off on, I don’t think. Like putting the hovercart before the roth, you know? It’d define the whole-- no, no. I want to start as friends. And if he turns me down, then… then we’ll stay friends, and I’ll be okay. I- I want to do it right. … For both of us. For him, mostly, but… yeah.”

Kelto shrugged as he finished, going back to picking at his plate. Behind him, Sskeer’s face had shifted just enough that Jora knew he’d been affected.

“Well said,” she said simply, as Sskeer took his plate and stood.

“You think so?”

“Well, it was better put than the lust-flavored word vomit you began with.”

“Look, when I say the man’s thighs are like wroshyr trunks and his chest is like a set of Weequay thunder drums, I’m only half-joking. He’s genuinely an impressive specimen. It’s a compliment.”

“You get to say all of that, but I’m the one bending the Code?”

He snorted. “Jora, please. We may be technically sworn to celibacy, sure, but we’re not dead, either.”

“Pardon me,” a deep voice said from behind him.

Kelto bit down on a yelp. Every joint in his body seemed to lock up so he sat straight upright. His eyes went as wide as the Temple’s dinner platters.

“Jedi Sskeer,” Jora Malli said, conversationally. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear someone talking rather loudly about myself,” he replied easily, “so I thought I’d stop by. Is this seat taken?”

“Not at all. Please, join us.”

He sat down right next to Kelto. The Rodian seemed to shrink, quailing.

“How much did you overhear, incidentally?” Jora asked, returning to finish off the last of her steak.

“Enough to know better than to take offense,” Sskeer replied, tucking into his karkan ribene. “Life is too ssshort to worry about the occasional social faux pas, isn’t it, little healer?”

Kelto’s throat bobbled. He looked to Jora to throw him a lifeline; in response, she only raised her eyebrows.

His eyes rolled back to the plate before him - then narrowed. He set his jaw and took a long, gulping swallow of his Rodian ale, an action that left his snout twisting for a moment afterward. Then he turned in his seat towards the Trandoshan.

“We should probably start over,” he said, putting out his hand. “I’m Kelto. Kelto Lem. It’s - great to meet you, Sskeer.”

Sskeer sent Jora a sidelong glance. She nodded.

“Likewise,” he returned, clasping the Rodian’s hand in his own.

“Um - no hard feelings about… anything from earlier, right?”

“Consider the slate wiped clean.”

“Oh. … Good.” That was easy, his eyes seemed to say, as he disengaged from the handshake.

Jora Malli sensed her work here was done. “I have a velocities demonstration with the younglings coming up,” she said, gathering her utensils and standing up. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it.”

“Of course,” Sskeer said graciously. He turned back to Kelto. “Would you prefer to move to the other side of the table, that we may face each other?”

Kelto blinked. “Uh - sure! You, you won’t mind, will you, Jora?”

“Don’t look at me,” she said, shrugging. “I won’t even be here.” She turned, deposited her empty plate and glass at an appropriate refuse station, and departed without further fanfare.

Gingerly, Kelto repositioned himself and his lunch to the other side of the table, sitting right before Sskeer. When he pushed in his chair, he seemed to be sitting a little taller.

“So, uh. Hello again.”

Sskeer smiled, shook his head, and took a bite of ribene.

#StarWarsOCShipWeek2021 #star wars #the high republic #sskeer #original character #oc x canon #fanfic #fluff/humor

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