Curate, connect, and discover
Thanks to the amazing encouragement of, and inspiration from @moonlightwarriorqueen I present my first fanfic in clone wars fandom. This is a Pride and Prejudice inspired Wolffe x Reader fluffy romp, with added appearances from my favourite Marshall Commander Fox, the Wolf Pack, Plo Koon and as many characters as I can shoehorn in appropriately lol.
P.S. If you haven’t read the amazingly gorgeous work of @moonlightwarriorqueen please can I suggest you do so forthwith. Their work is like a warm hug on a frosty day.
Wolffe x fem!Reader
Rating G
Trigger warnings: anti clone/adoptee discrimination in future chapters, discussions of money and food insecurity.
Wolffe scowled as the party reeled around him. The patch covering his eye itched something fierce, as the musket wound was still healing beneath it. .He had been dragged from his enforced solitude by the rambunctious pleas of his younger brothers, affectionately dubbed the “Wolf Pack” by those who had the misfortune to know them at their most exuberant.
To his left his father, Plo, dozed lightly despite the loud music played aggressively on the pianoforte which guided the dancers around the room. Wolffe moved gracefully to ensure that the blanket upon his father’s lap didn’t slip away under the weight of the abandoned book within his lap. His father had spent too long this afternoon expending his energy and had refused Wolffe’s gruff requests to rest. Despite being ostensibly retired, Doctor Koon spent many hours teaching the younger children in the village to read, saving their parents the schooling fees, so that they may more easily feed their families with the money saved. Wolffe could not be cross with his father, but he was concerned with the personal toll the unrelenting kindness took on his father as he entered his twilight years.
With a bone weary exhale, Wolffe watched as his younger brothers, Sinker and Boost, spun their latest objects of affection around the ballroom, both of them possessed with a giddiness and breathless joy he himself had not been party to in years. Wolffe didn’t begrudge them that joy, far from it, he wished he could bottle and preserve it for all his brothers so that they would never be without, but as the eldest sibling, the responsibility for his family's fortunes weighed heavily. The burden had become harder to shoulder since his injury at the hands of a French assassin had forced him home to recuperate. Wolffe could only afford a few more weeks before returning to the front line would be necessary for all of his family to remain solvent. Internally, Wolffe began to calculate the amount of time he had to remain before it would be deemed socially acceptable to leave.
With a crunch of strained wood, the ballroom doors swung open with an unbecoming lack of decorum. Wolffe’s gaze snapped to the entryway, assuming his other brothers, Comet and Wildfire, the irrepressible twins, had either escaped or joined the party without permission. Instead, he was surprised to see new faces. Arrivals were hard to keep under wraps in a village this small. Everyone knew each other's business faster than the carrier pigeons could arrive.
Wolffe studied the group who had interrupted the festivities. A bearded gentleman in naval uniform maybe a decade older than Wolffe led the way, his natural leadership and presence evident in his stride. He was flanked by a sandy haired young man with intense eyes, clad in a junior officers uniform, who was escorting a younger girl, whose dazzling blue eyes and scandalously matching coloured hair suggested trouble.
With a short whisper to the host, they were announced as First Sea Lord Benjamin Kenobi, and his young charges Officer Anakin and Ahsoka Kenobi. Behind them both, trying her best to blend into the wallpaper, was a young woman, unannounced and unnamed, she followed the trio indoors, eyes cast downwards.
Wolffe watched as the Lord and his family worked the room, intriguing all around them. There was an unseemly amount of fawning over the new arrivals which caused more than one exasperated eye roll from Wolffe as both Sinker and Boost, abandoning their dates for the evening, fell over themselves to pester Lord Benjamin for tales of maritime warfare and adventure.
Beside him, Doctor Koon stirred, awoken by the change in background ambience. He looked to Wolffe for support as he tried to rise to his feet, which his son provided dutifully and automatically without glancing downwards. Rubbing the unexpected sleep from his eyes, he felt his joints ache from the position in which he had taken his impromptu nap. No doubt he would be subject to a light scolding from his eldest son, who worried for everyone but himself. Plo looked to see what had taken Wolffe’s attention.
Wolffe seemed enraptured by a young lady who had entered behind the newcomers. Whilst they held court, this lady had sought out the serving staff and it looked as though she had asked, to their bafflement, to be put to work.
Plo supposed that this ask for employment was a diversionary tactic to avoid participation in the pantomime currently underway from her companions. Whilst Lord Ben and his young family enjoyed every moment of attention, this girl was determined to avoid it, and when her offer of assistance was politely declined, she took herself to the chairs at the furthest, and most empty corner of the room. She looked for all the world as though she wished to blend into the wallpaper. Dr Koon was surprised she hadn’t acknowledged Wolffe’s stern and probing gaze so far, but what was even more unexpected was the small jolt which travelled through his son as she did finally return his stare.
Icy blue gray eyes met the Wolffe’s remaining amber eye and a silent conversation took place.
Koon knowingly chuckled as he patted Wolffe’s arm, drawing his attention downwards, to support more of his weight. However, the brandy he had had after dinner sought to rush to his head and he swayed heavily, his heart fluttering too fast and too unevenly. As his vision narrowed, and the familiar blackness of unconsciousness encroached, all Koon could think was how much this would further worry Wolffe. He hoped the arms of oblivion would let him return. He had much to do.