Balm for the Soul

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut spent this morning scrubbing the flagstones.

This is not unusual.

Chirrut has spent every morning since the harvest festival scrubbing the flagstones, once Master Sheotar got wind of his 'gifting' the hated visor to a visiting child. Since then, she hasn't cared if someone else has just cleaned the courtyard, or if it is freezing outside... it needs cleaning. And Chirrut is the one to do it. Until she gets tired of it, which isn't looking to be any time soon.

Stashing away the rags and bucket for another day, Chirrut goes in search of Baze. He has plans, amazing plans, and they require Baze.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Baze finishes up his Wookiees, disappointed that they didn't last as long as he would have liked. He's finally full now, though, so there's no reason for him to go get more.

"Hmm," he says, rubbing his chin. "Perhaps a bracelet? I saw some nice charms on the way here. But, Chirrut, I doubt Master Sheotar will allow herself to be bribed. You earned the scrubbing, you know."

[idontneedluck]

"It's worth a shot." He doesn't tell Baze that he'll probably be in more trouble before the week is out, since he has plans to ensure the second visor meets the same fate as the holoprojector. Now is not the time, not when he can hear the smile in Baze's voice.

"Now where are these charms? You will have to pick the colors." He declares, with a tone that insinuates that he's still not entirely convinced colors exist, and may be some grand plot on Baze's part.

[iprotectyou]

"I don't know what colors she'd like," Baze says, shrugging helplessly. Unlike Chirrut's, Baze's shrug fits his frame, having copied the gesture from watching other people rather than feeling it out. "Blue and yellow might go with her skin; it's rather dark brown."

Baze cups Chirrut's elbow and leads him to the charms table, where the shopkeeper has laid out small trinkets so people can make their own bracelets. "What do you think, Chirrut?" Baze says, encouraging him to feel out the tiny talismans.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut's face loses expression while he figures out what the tiny forms are, his attention all at the pads of his fingers. Finally he selects two - one a delicate stylized soaring bird, the other a tiny Guardian in the third form of zama-shiwo.

"One of these, I think - what do you think?"

[iprotectyou]

"I like them both," Baze says. He is the least helpful. "But I think she'd like the Guardian better. Make sure you get the bracelet in gold."

Baze allows Chirrut to haggle for the charm and its bracelet, looking over the metal pieces. Music catches Baze's attention, a rousing tune played on a Bandfill by a Kiffar, near-human species from the Azurbani system. She's accompanied by a small, blue-skinned Ortolan on a Fanfar.

"Chirrut," Baze says, clasping his shoulder. "Let's dance."

[idontneedluck]

"Baze," Chirrut sighs as he tucks the bracelet safely away, "You know as well as I do that I'm useless at dancing."

...

Says the man renown for his skill in martial arts. Without even a trace of shame.

[iprotectyou]

Baze grumbles, scratching his cheek. "No, you're not," he says, dragging Chirrut over to the circle of people kicking their feet and twirling around. "Come, come, let's dance. The music is playing and my blood is hot."

Baze takes Chirrut's hands in his own and tries to spin around with him.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut protests the whole way there, but manages to stow away his staff in its sling against his back, and while he makes a show of resisting Baze's spin, he doesn't trip or actually step on anyone's toes.

The tune changes to one intended for a circle dance, fast and cheerful and bright. Chirrut reaches out a hand as he spins and unerringly finds a bystander, hauling them into the dance as well.

[iprotectyou]

Baze laughs, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders and dancing his heart out. The larger Guardian's steps are back to gracefulness despite his husky frame, cheerfulness inundating his person. His thoughts are light, focused entirely on the circle dance and enjoying himself. He hasn't had this much fun since the Empire was established.

[idontneedluck]

The Force sings in this moment, this place - with his arms around Baze and a complete stranger, flying through the dance as the beat goes faster with each rotation - it is louder, clearer here than in many attempts at meditation. Joy is almost a physical presence here, joy and hope and life.

If Chirrut could take a moment out of time and keep it as a prize, this one could be the winner.