exhale ; chirrut + baze

5 / guardians

THE AIR WAS SWEET IN CHIRRUT'S LUNGS as he let out a sigh, slamming a bag onto the table. Dirt caked the surface of the bag. Mara had been summoned away to consult with some of the Guardians of the Whills.

"Eat," Chirrut ordered, trying his best to look stern.

"Chirrut -- " Baze began.

"Eat," he repeated, taking the bag and shoving it into Baze's general area. Baze let out a sigh as the bag collided into his chest, the bag crinkling.

"I already told you, Ch -- "

"Eat," Chirrut echoed, poking Baze in the chest. "No excuses."

"I'm fine, please -- "

"Baze Malbus," he said, his tone one of a chastising mother. "You are as stubborn as a mule and I bet you're twice as ugly as one, so eat the kriffin' medicine or I will shove it down your throat."

Chirrut was lying about the ugly part. Anyone with a pretty voice was likely to have an equally pretty face.

And Baze had a very, very pretty voice.

Baze let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "You sound like my 妈妈," he said.

"That's the intention," Chirrut's hand reached out to find the bed. Baze's hands caught them first, and gently guide him onto it. Chirrut sat down. "Eat it," Chirrut spoke, his voice soft.

Baze was silent, his hands crumpling the top of the bag.

"If you eat it," Chirrut tapped a finger against his knee. He inhaled. "If you eat it," he said slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully, "I'll stay."

Baze looked at him. "I couldn't do that to you."

"I have no reason to stay here. I do not know your ways nor do I share any interest in learning them." Chirrut said, his hands finding Baze's knee and squeezing gently. "Give me a reason, Baze."

"Are you sure?"

Chirrut nodded. Uncertainly, Baze opened the bag, pulling out an object. Baze's fingernails tapped against it lightly, causing a soft clinging sound. Glass.

Baze unscrewed the cap.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Okay," Baze placed his hand over his mouth and tossed his head back.

"Feeling magically better?"

"I don't think that's how it works, Îmwe," he laughed.

Baze paused. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because," Chirrut answered, "I would have stayed anyway."

~

THE AIR WAS SWEET IN BAZE'S LUNGS. He watched Chirrut closely as the smaller man ran ahead, an almost child-like curiosity etched in his features. It was almost cute, the way Chirrut tiptoed through each hallway, his eyes widened, feigning excitement.

Baze was bringing him on a smell-tour, as well as guiding him through each hallway so Chirrut could map it out in his mind.

He was surprisingly fast and lithe for a person with no vision, and somehow managed to evade any passerbys. Baze was impressed.

That is, until Chirrut tripped on a dislodged tile and fell.

Baze ran up to him, his wiry arms wrapping under Chirrut's, Chirrut burning bright red.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Chirrut stomped at the tile, as if to punish it for insurbordination. "Just fine."

"Stick closer to me," Baze suggested. "I'll be able to catch you if you fall."

Chirrut blinked. "Thanks." They continued their walk, the both of them walking side by side.

"Baze?"

"Yeah?"

"Why me?"

Baze stopped walking, Chirrut turning his head towards him inquisitively. "Because you were chosen."

"Chosen? Like, the Triwizard-Tournament-Cup-chosen? Is my name put in a big trophy and drawn out?"

Baze blinked, confused. "I don't -- "

"It's a Coruscant thing," Chirrut replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I stole a holo of the book once. Thought it was a pan fryer."

"Well," Baze said, pointedly choosing to ignore his statement. "The Force chooses those who require it. The lost, the weak, the searcher. It finds those who seek it, or those who have a potential to wield it or learn it."

"Who's the Force?"

"The Force is us," Baze said dreamily, his eyes cast up to the sky. "It surrounds us and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together. It's what connects us to each other."

"The Force sounds like it needs a restraining order," Chirrut huffed, beginning to move again.

Baze laughed. "You may joke about it now, but it is real. The woman you met? Mara? She wields it."

"Wields it? Like a sword?"

"You have a lot of questions," Baze smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked at Chirrut.

"Didn't you?"

Baze smiled at that.

"She can move things with the Force, and she can sense things . . . occurences within it. Say, if her cousin died, she would have felt it in the Force. The Force does more than that, it grounds you, it links you to everything the Force is linked to."

"That sounds," Chirrut closed his eyes, as if he were imagining it in his head, "beautiful."

"It is," Baze agreed.

"If people like Mara wield it, what is our purpose? I can't imagine that we just learn about the Force for fun."

"The Jedi and the Sith may wield the Force," he placed a hand on Chirrut's shoulder, leaning forward, "but we guard it."