#Rhedian

[thesummerstorms]

12. “Why are you awake?”

@clingy-ghost

Etain peered doubtfully out from her bunk in the almost-empty creche room.

“Why are you awake?” she blurted out, more sharply than she really meant it. “Didn’t your ship get back late? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

But Rhedian just beamed back up at her, stretching up on tip-toes to peer into Etain’s top bunk, her hair a mess aside from her meticulously plaited Padawan’s braid, her hands clasped suspiciously behind her back.

“Scoot over already!” Rye chirped without missing a beat, “Before the instructors realize we’re breaking curfew.”

Rhedian didn’t even have a curfew- Padawans listened to their Masters, not to the creche-instructors. Etain stared at her wearily for a moment trying to figure out what exactly Rye was up to. Rye, who was still looking up at her, expectant and not a little impatient and… smelling distinctly of citrus? 

What?

“What,” Etain asked even as she pushed backwards, pressing against the wall to make room for Rye on the narrow mattress, “exactly are you doing?”

“Sleepover! Now move! No, the other way or I will land on your elbow. That’s better.” 

It was a tighter fit than it had been when they were both little and the creche instructors used to chide them for sneaking into one another’s bunks to gossip and whisper after lights-out. Etain was turned on her side, as far back as she could go, Rhedian squeezed alongside her with one leg half-dangling off the edge of the bed. Rye didn’t seem to mind though. It was hard to see, exactly,but Etain thought she could make out something small and circular her friend was cradling  to her chest.

“Rhedian...” Etain whispered again, apprehensive and glancing across the room to where the only other initiate their age was still sleeping. If this was going to be a repeat of the Incident...

But Rhedian pressed on undeterred. “I brought you something!” Feeling around in the darkness, she grabbed blindly until she found Etain’s hand and squeezed it. Then she cupped Etain’s fingers expectantly and slipped something into them. “From my trip!”

The citrus smell grew stronger. Etain realized she was holding some kind of small, smooth skinned fruit, one that sat unexpectedly heavily in her hand. “... what?” 

Rye made a small, impatient noise. “Vinefruit. It grows in the jungle outside the Capitol on. You should hurry and peel it. We had nothing but rationpaste for dinner on the ship, and I am starving.” As if to reinforce the point, Rye’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly.

Etain couldn’t help it. She laughed, quickly moving to stifle the noise with her free hand. Rhedian gently shoved her knee anyway, which didn’t help at all.

“I thought that you said you brought me something.”

“Yes, well,” Rye huffed, “you can still share. Come on already. Try it.”

Obediently, Etain sunk her nails into the smooth skin of the fruit. It split apart easily into small, star-shaped sections, one of which she handed to Rye, leaving her fingers sticky. Too late, Etain realized the juice was probably going to make a mess all over the pillow.

Oh well. Too late now.

She took a bite. “Oh. That’s sweet.”

Her eyes had just adjusted enough that she could make out Rhedian trying not to grin around her mouthful of fruit. She had a distinct I told you so look, a pride in being correct that was utterly familiar. Etain didn’t care. She took another bite, almost tempted to lick the juice from her fingers.

It was Rhedian’s turn to stifle a giggle. “ I know, right? I had one planet side and immediately thought of you. It tastes much better than muja fruit.”

Etain was highly partial to muja fruit, to most citrus fruit actually, but she nodded in agreement anyway. “It’s better than chocolate.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far. But I knew you would like it.” 

With so little space and so much familiarity between them, Etain could feel Rhedian’s pleasure in the Force as easily as she could hear it in her friend’s voice. It settled between them, soft and content-feeling, like a warm blanket. Rye squeezed Etain’s arm again, waiting patiently for Etain to finish her portion, still smiling.

Etain looked down at the sheets, uncertain why her face suddenly felt warm. She chewed, slow and deliberate, until the last of the vinefruit was gone, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of its scent.

“What was it like?” she asked eventually, stretching as much as she could with out brushing against Rye . “Going on a real mission off-world? Arion’s mostly wilderness, right? Not like Coruscant at all.”

Rhedian propped herself up on one elbow, looking down into Etain’s face. “No. The planet was beautiful,” she whispered with clear relish, and then- “I wish you could have seen it though. I missed you.”

There was a twinge in Etain’s chest at that, one she couldn’t explain. She pushed right past it, pushing playfully at Rhedian’s shoulder. “No you didn’t. I bet you spent the entire time having absolutely crazy adventures and were too busy to even think about the Temple. Did you get to use your new lightsaber at all?”

“Actually,” Rye’s nose scrunched the way it always did when she got annoyed with something, “My master kept me busy, but so much of it was errands, Etain. Padawan go do this. Padawan, cross-reference that with the official plant database? Oh, Padawan, could you take a message for me?” At Etain’s unbelieving giggle, Rhedian shook her head. “I really did think about- wait.”

Etain froze. She could feel it too. More than that, she could hear the footsteps now. One of the creche-masters was coming. Wordlessly, she tugged at Rhedian’s arm, pulling them both flat against the mattress even as Rye tugged the blanket over both of them, the way they always had when they hid as kids. 

They were too old and too big for it to do any good now, but Etain put a knowing finger to her lips anyway. Rhedian bit her lip hard, clearly trying not to laugh outright. For a moment, all was right with the galaxy.

Then-

“Girls.”

Busted.

[cgarts]

A Rye and Etain piece.

Perhaps they’re reminiscening about the past and a funny childhood story. Who knows, I just like how both the expressions came out.

[etainturmukan]

Darman is on the enclosed section of the balcony cursing at his UV light set up (which I would have given up on by now, but the man likes his garden, and more importantly his food source contingencies).

Koa has fallen asleep on top of Mird, who doesn't seem to mind being used as a pillow by a toddler.

Scout is watching a limmie game in real time on one of Jaing's illegal signal splices and arguing with him about it via the comm. Possibly with all the Nulls, if voices are anything to go by.

Rhedian is in the kitchen with Kad'ika "sneaking" cookies from the jar, as if I'm not perfectly well aware what they're both up to.

I'm curled up under a quilt listening to the speeder traffic and drinking Concordian shig.

I never would have thought of Nar Shaddaa as any measure of "peaceful" back when I was a Jedi... and yet here were are.

(Though if Rye and Dar don't sort out the plants and the ad'ike soon and come cuddle, I will be highly annoyed.)

@1136-darman @rhetoast

[etainlives]

OC's? Or other characters that are close to Etain? I always hated the idea of her being the "female damsel gets only validation of her male person in her life". I liked the design of this one drawing with the two aliens with her, maybe elaborate on that?

So I do typically play Etain as very lonely within the Jedi Order until at least The Clone Wars. She has one close friend from her childhood in the Jedi Order creche (clingy-ghost’s Rhedian, who doesn’t have an RP blog at the moment but whom I love dearly and is one of my ships for Etain actually). 

But largely her outsider status in the Order and her negative self-concept stops her from making a lot of friends. She’s pretty incredibly isolated, even if she has surface level pleasant relationships with some of the younglings-turned-Jedi she grew up with.

That said, I totally took Besany’s idle lines about “wishing Etain was here” and “Etain being out of contact” in ImpCom and True Colors respectively (despite them never being on screen speaking to one another!!!) to head canon that Etain eventually sends Besany a very, very awkward letter apologizing for shooting her via a mortified Ordo. Eventually it becomes a pen pal situation, though Etain’s cagey enough it doesn’t become a friendship until after Kad is born.

It’s similar for Laseema; Etain is generally too guilty about “forcing” Laseema to raise Kad to become easy friends with her until after the war, but they do eventually get there.

She gets kind of a mentor relationship with Rav Bralor in my headcanon, as Rav is one of the few people Etain feels like she can be entirely open with and is there at a very tumultuous time in Etain’s pregnancy.

From that connection comes Kyrvhe Bralor who isn’t necessarily a friend because she’s also treating Etain as a patient, but who does provide a very necessary support and who would bully Rav into looking after Etain if Rav wasn’t already inclined to do it.

Callista Masana doesn’t end up in Luke’s students body in my headcanons, but Etain rescues her instead and the two form a friendship that picks up from Etain needing Force healing from the Altisians shortly after Order 66. (I forgot that one in my canon divergent post!)

Post- Clone Wars, some of my OCs who Etain’s befriended are a grumpy old Nar Shaddaa tea shop owner who I really need to give a name,  and Seresk Artemm and Thaysil (two Rebel fighters who are eventually part of Etain’s cell).

I also think Etain has a pretty central and enduring friendship with Mereel Skirata.

That said, I’m always collecting friendships for Etain. She’s just awkward enough it may take her a while to form them or to believe the other person truly values or respects her as a person.

(If anyone wants to plot a friedsnhip specifically, IM me!)

[generalgraceless]

// For the Halloween thing: Rhedian/Etain. :D //

Choses the pumpkin:

Rhedian picks up two medium sized, almost perfect pumpkins and surprises Etain with them  and some carving tools one afternoon. Etain has been having a sour morning, but it’s enough to put a smile on her face

Carves the pumpkin:

Etain likes the knife part well enough, and she actually is fairly dextrous, so she helps Rye some with the design. But Rye has to clean the pumpkins out.

Gets scared and clings the other in a haunted house:

This is both of them, jumping and screaming and grabbing reflexively at each other for support the same way they did when they were little kids and the older apprentices would tell them about terentateks that came out into the lake level at night to eat naughty Jedi younglings

Matching costume idea:

Etain is perfectly willing to just go with the flow on this one, although she is putting a limit on any potential glitter, make up, or glittery face paint. Her Padawan is bad enough, thank you.

Makes a cozy bed-fort to cuddle in:

Etain makes it and pretty much drags Rhedian into it. The more pillows the better, and there’s popcorn and apples and a scary holofilm on the projector to throw the snacks at. But mostly pillows, because Etain likes cuddly. Eventually Etain even drifts off with her head on Rye’s shoulder and spills her popcorn everywhere, like she’s actually still eight

Steals the other’s candy:

Etain trades Rhedian all her candy for the season for an extra slice of Corellian apple pie and a semi sweet ale. But she has a feeling Rye was going to offer those to her anyway.

Accidentally gets lost in a corn maze:

Somebody decides to make it an extra challenge, so they both try to navigate blindfolded just by the Force and each other’s voices. Rhedian trips over Etain, they run into one another, and Etain falls into the corn.

Tells spooky stories to scare the other:

They take turns collaboratively telling the same scary story, the way they used to as kids when one of them couldn’t sleep, taking turns adding bizarre twists and characters to throw the other off. It ends up being less scary than hillarious.

Collects cool-looking leaves:

Rhedian makes pretty pressed art out of them.

[thesummerstorms]

This started out supposed to be a cute/fluffy oneshot with Rye and Dar both giving Etain “I missed you” kisses. It instead turned into 2,940 words of Etain not really dealing with multiple compounded traumas, including a close call that triggers memories of her death, plus some very tentative early days polyamory. 

I’m not at all sure I actually like this piece. It didn’t do anything I wanted. Iit probably needs at lead 300 words cut and some tight editing, But after the number of hours I spent on this, at this point it’s getting posted, terrible and awkward or not. I apologize in advance for the wordiness. Low key inspired by some of Izzy's recent Force fic stuff in small parts, but they do it much better and are not affiliated with this mess.

Fandom: Republic Commando 

Ships: Darman/Etain, Rhedian/Etain, the beginnings of some Rhedian/Darman and Rhedian/Etain/Dar (they either go off to make out together for the first time at the end or…)

Rating: PG? PG-13? I mean…

Characters: Etain Tur-Mukan, @clingy-ghost ‘s Rhedian, and Darman Skirata.

—

It’s zero dark thirty, local time, when Etain finally stumbles off the transport and drags herself three further blocks downlevel to their current hidey-hole. The sky in this district is aching with neon, the city pulsing with flashes of speeder lights and dingy bar signs enough to blot out the skies overhead with its own false twilight. Drunks leer occasionally in her direction, reeling out of cantinas papered with dingy, scandalous adverts. The blaster beneath her vest feels unusually heavy in the holster against her ribs.

She walks faster, knowing it would be sensible to be afraid, but this place is nothing compared to Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa, and she has spent the last hour of her shuttle ride here scrubbing the blood from her hands. The background promise of threat, threat, threat still pricks occasionally at the back of her mind, noticeable and unspecific and still-

She meets it not so much as an old friend but as some familiar noise pollution. After all, where isn’t there a threat these days? She’s never uncautious, or at least she would never admit to it, but at the moment the Force-given-knowledge is more annoyance than true concern, just one more trip to the adrenaline rush that has become semipermanent in her brain. The risk of walking through the streets this time of night is still present, but she has mostly lost the capacity to feel it. She has too many bigger things to feel afraid of.

Still, Etain is careful. She promised them she would be, after all. She sticks to the lit paths, doubles back on herself the prerequisite number of times, keeps the blaster within easy reach. This planet may be too much of a shithole for the Empire to bother with directly, filled with too many vagrants and not enough resources, but she’d never forgive herself if her lack of care lead more of her danger back to her family.

It takes another twenty minutes before she’s satisfied and finally creeps up to their motel door, several more after that to disarm and rearm their security measures. As she bolts the night away on the other side of the door, she finds herself selfishly grateful that this excursion, like all their others, has proved a failure, struck early from Darman’s list. She will be glad to see the last of this planet, to feel its atmosphere burn away to the nothingness of space, even if it further narrows their options.

Rhedian is still insisting that maybe they’d be better off in the ship, or she was at least when Etain left for her… side venture. Etain considers this as she unlaces her boots in the dark hallway, thinking of the pinched look in Rhedian’s face, the stony blankness of Dar’s.

They’re running out of places to go, of places even worth looking, the list dwindling and dwindling with every disguised excursion. The lines around Darman’s eyes get tighter every time they return beneath the earth into Kyrimorut, met by Kal’s kindly smile. Rhedian uses the extra days, the ones meant to look as if they aren’t traveling in tandem, to reach out to her old smuggling contacts. But a smuggler’s hold is no place to raise a baby, especially in this strange new galaxy of theirs. Besides, they can’t afford it. Even the ship isn’t really theirs.

Another spike of adrenaline floods her already aching body at that thought, but Etain does her best to wrestle it into submission. It isn’t a problem she can fix in the middle of the night, trapped in this grungy hallway. So she focuses instead on the stinging of her muscles as she strips out of her armored vest and boots, tossing both thoughtlessly to the floor. The holster is hung with a little more care, and then she pads barefoot into the tiny suite.

Her eyes take their time adjusting, but after a moment she can make out Darman’s door, closed, no light underneath, and Rhedian’s, slightly cracked but silent. She leans against the kitchenette, waiting, but neither of them emerges. After a moment she wonders if she should shower again. She washed her hair twice before she made the trip back and scoured her hands a dozen more times on the way, but there are still tiny flecks of blood on her tunic, lingering around the edges of the sleeves.

Etain fills a glass from the cabinet with water, frowns, and sets it down without drinking. She shrugs her way out of the tunic and kicks it somewhere under the table where, at least in the dark, she can no longer see it. For a moment the shadows seem to lurch around her, cold down her bruised spine, but she shoves that away too. She shouldn’t focus on things she can’t fix. She can’t fix what’s already happened.

Maybe she should go ahead and find the datapad she was working on before her rendezvous. Rhedian and Darman’s doors are both shut, or close enough to, and she can’t find it in her to risk disturbing them. For all that she’s exhausted, she knows her mind is still too full to sleep.

I should meditate. The next automatic conclusion, one built by years of training. But she knows she won’t. Whatever is waiting for her in the depths and eddies of the Force tonight, it isn’t something to bring her the emptiness she was taught to look for.

Still not a problem I can solve. 

Instead, she rocks forward onto her toes, fingers pressed into the pitted countertop, legs burning, paralyzed by her narrow choices. She focuses on her breathing, the way Kyrvhe taught her after she woke up, and leans her head against the cabinet. When she closes her eyes, the blood and the darkness are waiting.

When was the last time she felt like this?

But she can’t pretend she doesn’t know why.

Not a problem she can fix, maybe not a problem that can ever be fixed, after everything that has happened to her. She flexes and releases each ligament in her shaking hands, counts the pill bottles lined by the sink, some hers and some Darman’s, and tries not to hyperventilate as she feels the Force looking back at her.

She considers taking a sedative; Mij has prescribed her plenty, at a loss for what else to do. But the last thing she wants is to sink back into the nothingness, even as sharp as her racing thoughts feel against the corner of her mind.

“Tychon, Arelles, Nar Shaddaa,” she mutters, names of the planets they still have to investigate recited like a litany, as short as that list has gotten, “Taris. Amaranthine Station.”

Taris and Tychon are both unlikely- too many reports of Imperial interest lately, but they stay on her list anyway, the same six names, over and over. The last they’d heard from Mereel, brief as it had been, he’d cautioned them against the station, something about its population being too easy to track.  That was over a month ago. She isn’t surprised not to have heard from him since, but it hurts, as much as she understands. Darman wants to investigate anyway. Arelles, Nar Shaddaa, Taris, Amaranthine Station. Tychon, Arelles, Nar Shaddaa, Taris-

The walls are too close, but maybe one of these is a thing she can fix if she finds the right way into the Arelles port, if they find the right aliases to sneak into Tychon, if-

“Hey… were you planning to drink this?”

A hand presses against her shoulder. Etain opens her eyes again to see Rye, sleep mussed hair and a too-short sleep shirt, smiling with studied lightness.

“What?” Etain asks.

“The water. Are you going to drink it? I’m thirsty.”

Etain waves her wordless surrender of the glass, and Rhedian sips, still carefully nonchalant, but Etain can tell she’s worried.  Rye’s eyes are fixed just a little too intensely, and Etain has known her too long to be fooled.

Rye’s thumb strokes a casual circle between her shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t,” Rhedian lies, like Etain’s frantic mind wouldn’t have been a beacon in these close quarters. Rye’s hand dips a little lower down Etain’s bare back, but the moment her fingers brush against the brutal, jagged scar that stretches from hip to just below her shoulder, Etain flinches away. Rhedian can’t hide her frown then, though she tries as she pulls respectfully away. “You are back early, though.”

From the look in Rye’s face, Etain’s surge of emotion is answer enough, but she grits her teeth through an answer anyway.

“It was a setup. Things got a little close. I had to kill a guard.”

She knows she isn’t imagining Rye’s small intake of breath, but Etain keeps her eyes trained on the counter and not on Rhedian’s face. She can feel the other woman’s gaze, definitely studious this time, concerned, looking for any obvious hurt. Etain does her best to show nothing back but stillness.

Rhedian is smarter than that, though. Since they were children, Rhedian was always the one Etain had the hardest time hiding from. After a moment, Rye cups her fingers underneath Etain’s chin, gentle but firm. Their eyes meet.

“Are you okay?” Rhedian asks.

It’s Etain’s turn to smile, however weakly. After all, even if they both can tell the answer, Etain isn’t about to give it. Rhedian doesn’t sleep much better than she or Dar do, and besides, it would be hard to explain. “Of course. Just a little bruised. Maybe a little shaken up, but it’s nothing a hot shower won’t solve.”

She leans her chin further into Rhedian’s hand, green eyes tilted almost shyly upwards, won’t-you-please-trust-me? She takes Rhedian’s free hand in her own, and if it’s meant to be a distraction, it isn’t one that’s primarily meant for Rye. Etain laces their fingers together and squeezes.

Rhedian looks very much as if she wants nothing better to call Etain on her shit anyway. Her brow furrows; her grip tightens ever so slightly. Liar, exclaims the downward curl of her lip. Then she glances downwards, at their joined hands, and her expression softens.

“Are you okay?” she again, just this side of tender. Etain pitches forward in response, tucking her face against Rye’s collar bone, her head just beneath Rhedian’s chin. Rhedian shifts to hold her, and this time when Rye’s fingers brush the scar, Etain manages not to flinch.

“Of course,” she lies again, “But tell me what I missed. Did we make any progress here?”

Of course they didn’t; her husband would have commed her, and he had been certain from the moment they landed that this place was a dud of a fallback plan. If Etain hadn’t had her other business to attend, they might not have stayed at all.  But Rhedian hesitates before answering all the same.

“Nothing yet. This place is… less than suitable. Especially for the little one.” Rhedian’s embrace tightens a little more, pulling Etain closer to her chest. Comfortable. “But we will find somewhere to go, Etain. Eventually.”

Etain hums agreement into her old friend’s neck. Whatever doubts she’s beginning to have that the three of them- the five of them, really, counting the baby and Scout- could ever find somewhere both safe from the Empire and out of Kal’s long shadow, she doesn’t want to admit them yet. She wants this situation to still be salvageable. She wants Rhedian to keep holding her. She wants to forget the shadows that wait for her to close her eyes.

“What are we thinking then? The station next?”

“No.” The voice that answers her is low and gruff with sleep, not Rhedian’s at all. “Mereel was right. It’s big enough but too remote. Not much inbound traffic. Too easy to track us coming and going.”

Dar. Etain is a little surprised she didn’t feel him approach. She peels her eyes back upwards for a moment, taking in the dark shadows under his eyes and his mussed hair. He’s been tossing and turning since he came back home from Coruscant, waking suddenly in the night. She isn’t surprised to see him now, just guilty.

Still, she doesn’t regret it when he comes up behind her and presses himself tight against her back. Rhedian lets go of Etain’s hand to grab Darman’s, some wordless communication passing between them. As new and awkward as this is between all three of them, the constant negotiation and testing of boundaries between each kiss, Etain thinks Darman and Rhedian have gotten good at that. Better, at least.

Not perfect, yet, though, because Dar still asks. “What happened?”

And, oh, Etain doesn’t want to answer that just now. Bracketed by their warmth, she had only just started to feel the memory, the sense of being watched recede. But Darman is tensing up, and the edge in his voice is back, of course it is, because she knows he is remembering her screaming on Coruscant, remembering his grief for her.

And then she can’t help but remember either, in jumbled flashes of near and distant past- the trap sprung, a knife glinting at her throat as her head slammed the permacrete, as she scrambled for her blaster, but the knife wasn’t a knife, it was a lightsaber dragged across her flesh, glancing across her spine, and the agony and then the darkness waiting, even as she pulls the trigger- and it’s a delicate thing to hide from Darman, who no longer takes kindly to secrets, but if she speaks, she will feel it all again.

Why is she like this? She should be better than this by now.

Rhedian saves her by answering, still so close Etain can feel her heartbeat. “Things went poorly.”

Rye volunteers no other information, but her tone speaks volumes. Darman bristles, his anger a brief spike in the Force lanced through with his fear, but Rhedian is still holding his hand. After a moment, he takes a deep breath, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. She feels rather than sees him looking up at Rye.

“Et’ika…”

“You look terrible,” Rhedian supplies, pulling Dar by his hand until they are all standing almost on top of one another, “Like you need to rest.”

Darman snorts at that, but puts his free hand against her hip, just shy of Rhedian’s on her back. His stubble tickles her scalp. “You look like osik. Rye’s right. You should come to bed.” Etain shakes her head, but he presses on, a little less certain. “Did you need, ah, -”

“I don’t want to take a sedative. I don’t care what Mij says.” That, at least, she’s certain of. Her skin crawls at the thought of being trapped. “I’m too worked up to sleep, anyway. ”

Something in Rhedian’s expression changes again, and Etain winces. This isn’t fair to them, to be held hostage in the middle of the night by her paranoia and restlessness. She can find some way to distract herself. Go through the Arelles data, maybe. Make herself useful instead of burdening the people she loves.

Tychon, Arelles, Nar Shaddaa. She rocks suddenly forward onto her toes again, the impulse translated automatically to movement but Rhedian holds her tighter, and Darman makes a discontented grunt. She hastens to reassure them both. “It’s fine. I’ll just find the datapad and make some shig and-”

“Or…” Rhedian cuts her off, then hesitates. Rye was never one to hesitate when they were children, or even as adults when the feelings between them finally crashed into the open. But something is different here. She leans in and brushes her lips against Etain’s cheek. Etain wants to tell her, to remind her that this isn’t necessary, that she doesn’t need to waste her time and precious sleep, but then Rye looks up and her gaze isn’t for Etain at all.

Whatever the silent cue is, Etain feels Darman freeze, considering, then nod ever so slightly. His bare chest is still warm against her back. He squeezes her hip. “… Or you could let us help?”

It comes out a question, uncertain, but Rhedian smiles and stands on her tiptoes. This time, she kisses Dar’s cheek. Etain bites her lip, turning her neck further than is comfortable as she tries unsuccessfully to look at them both. Darman is flushed, that much she can tell, but something in the way he’s eyeing Rhedian makes her think they’ve talked about …whatever this is before. At the very least, he seems reassured.

“I-”

This is not something Etain wants to just take. Not with everything still so tremulous and new. Not with the mess she fears she’s already made tonight. She doesn’t want Darman or Rhedian to feel obligated.

But fierfek, if she doesn’t feel better between them. Anchored.

Rye’s smile turns teasing, but her voice is still gentle. “We could just kiss if you like. Kisses are excellent diversions for adrenaline.”

“Cyar’ika,” Dar says, his voice suddenly husky. “Let us help you feel safe.”

She isn’t, of course. None of them really are, and tonight was just a reminder. This whole trip is a reminder. But in that moment Etain wants to pretend they are. It that moment, if she pretends not to remember, she almost feels like they are.

Besides, she loves them.

She leans forward and kisses Rhedian on the mouth. Lets Darman start to pull them both in the direction of one of the sofa.

She loves them, and they want her to be safe. That has to be enough for now.

[thesummerstorms]

“I’ve missed you” kiss for dar/etain or rhy/etain?

Rhedian/Etain; 864 words

Rebellion era or Separatist Sympathizer AU; it’s open to interpretation.

They are standing in the alley way in the dusk and the dirt,both bruised, both gasping, neither touching.

Rhedian isn’t even looking her direction. She’s got one handon her lightsaber, glancing backwards to see if they’ve been followed. Theother hand braces against the brick wall, steady, unshaken. In that moment,Etain thinks, Rhedian’s face is a stranger’s, so much older than either oftheir years, enough for Etain to wonder what it is Rye’s gone through since theywere separated all those years ago.

The silence stretches thin, and Etain should probably behelping. Using her own tenuous connection to the Force to try and sense theirpursuers. She should be helping.

Instead, Etain stares up into Rye’s face.

If Rye notices, she apparently doesn’t mind. After a momentRhedian flashes her a grin. It’s forced, Etain knows; neither of them are trulyat ease just yet. They aren’t safeyet. But Rhedian is trying anyway, attempting to set her at ease. Reckless.Brave. For a moment, Etain thinks she can almost see the girl who used to tempther out of her bed in the creche to search for sweets, who held her hand afterone failed class after another.

“I don’t think they pursued us,” Rye whispers, leaning soclose Etain can feel her breath against her cheek, “but we should still becautious.”

Etain nods as if she’s listening- and really some part ofher agrees; better to wait this out rather than risk their enemy following themback to camp- but really her focus is on Rhedian’s eyes, which are somehowbright even in the darkness.

How is it, after all this time, after all the galaxy hasdone to separate them, how is it that she can be this close?

And Etain is proud, more proud than anyone who has failed somiserably and so often has any right to be. She is proud enough to havepretended all these years, and proud enough to have fought this long.

What she isn’t, she finds, is proud enough to keep fighting now.One way or another, she’s too tired to hide anymore. And if this changes thingsbetween them, if this is just one more in a long string of failures, well-

That hurts more than she wants to admit, so she swallows thethought like little shards of glass and pushes past it.

There is blood in her hair and on her clothes and on herface, and this isn’t the moment but oh, she can’t help it. Something hasfinally, finally fallen into place and she’s worried. Worried that if shehesitates, she might lose it forever.

“Rhedian?” Her voice shakes, but Rye doesn’t seem to notice.Only looks at her, concerned. Brushes a bit of Etain’s hair away from thebloody cut on her cheek with concern behind her patient smile.

The touch is gentle.It’s been so long since anything has felt gentle.

Etain lets herself reach back, puts a hand on Rhedian’s waistand bunches it in the cloth of her friend’s shirt. Rhedian doesn’t resist.

“Etain, are you-“

Etain leans forward in answer, before Rye can even finishvoicing her concern. Breaks the question softly, her lips pressing to Rhedian’s,soft, and sweet, and almost chaste.

And then Rhedian is holding her, is kissing her back.

Every stolen glance in the soft afternoon sun of thearchives, every longing sigh when she was sure no one could hear, every guiltyheartbeat sitting together in the Room of a Thousand Fountains- she relivesthem all in the space of a heartbeat.

Only this time she isjustified. This time, Rhedian knows. And Rhedian isn’t asking her to leave, isn’tdisgusted, or worse, pitying. Isn’t reminding her of their Oath.

Rhedian is kissing herback.

She looses track of the next several moments in a blur ofmemory and longing and the echo of emotions in the Force. Eventually, though,they are forced to pull apart, breathless and awkward and still, so, so close. Etain rocks forward back onto theedge of her toes and rests her forehead against Rye’s.

“I missed you, you know. All that time.  All those years. The rest of it didn’t matterin the end. Not the Order or the Code or, or… or any of it. But I never stoppedmissing you.”

And maybe that’s a foolish confession to make, to someonewho was always a better Jedi than Etain had any hope of being, who must onlyjust now be realizing how badly Etain has always failed to live up to their oldpromises.

But Rhedian doesn’t make her feel foolish. Etain findsherself pushed backward against the brick wall, Rhedian’s hands planted oneither side of her shoulders. Etain keeps her face tilted upwards, ready forthe next kiss.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, Rhedian is staring into herface. When she takes Etain’s hand, Etain can feel in the Force the weight of whatall those years must have meant to Rye, realizes how foolish she was to thinkherself the only one lost in them.

All Rhedian says is, “I missed you, too.”

[thesummerstorms]

24. tender

@clingy-ghost

Written vaguely with the Separatist AU in mind, but I didn’t want to decide was left the setting purposefully vague, as well as the circumstances. Also apologize that apparently I can’t do “micro”.

She wakes, warm and disoriented, in a tangle of limbs.

At first Etain is too tired to care, and the bed, if not soft, is still cradling her in a way that promises the comfort of further sleep. Gradually, though, she becomes more and more aware of the grating noise of shouting and speeder traffic through the thin insulation of the safehouse walls. It pokes away at her muzzy contentment until, eyes still closed, she huffs an irritated sigh and nuzzles her face further away from the light.

Something- someone- shifts against her in response. She freezes, suddenly aware of the awkward bent weight of her arm, of warmth against her nose and cheek, a pressure against her hip that’s pushing her against the rough wall.

Eyes flash open, and she sees the fraying collar of an old shirt dipping low over the curve of a shoulder, a tangled mess of brown hair.

Rhedian.  

Rhedian is asleep in the bed with her, no different than how they used to curl together as children, intent on gossip or chasing away nightmares.

Except this time she and Rye are grown, and pressed together on a bunk that even Etain finds narrow at the best of times. Somehow, somehow she has managed to bury her face against the taller woman’s sleeping back, and she feels smooth skin beneath the fingertips curled at Rye’s waist. Now  she’s awake enough to realize that one of her legs is going numb where it’s trapped beneath Rye’s weight. 

A flush burns down Etain’s neck. Rye is still breathing evenly, and Etain considers extricating herself quietly before she manages to ruin everything. But as close as Rye is, trying to squeeze out of the bunk would surely wake her and-

(-and if there isn’t some part of her wanting simply to cuddle back down against Rhedian and pretend to still be asleep for as long as she can-)

Either thought is a lost cause, she realizes, as Rye shakes with a chuckle, awake after all. Etain is forced to pull back out of necessity as Rhedian turns awkwardly towards her, their bodies briefly clashing in the too-tight space until they are laying  mostly face to face.

 She must be frowning, because Rhedian laughs, seeming genuinely amused by whatever she’s seeing, the faint Force-echo of her happiness swaddling them both in a cocoon. “Still the morning person, then? I can see it in your face.”

There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, and Etain blushes more deeply as Rye puts a hand against her elbow, ever so gentle.

Etain should say something back, should pull away, should maybe apologize for the liberties, but she finds her eyes caught on the pleased curve of Rhedian’s mouth smiling back at her. Unthinkingly, Etain reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from the other woman’s face. 

Rye stills under the feather-light brush of Etain’s fingers, alert but not alarmed. Etain breathes deep, still staring at Rhedian’s face. She traces her thumb against the very corner of Rye’s mouth, still doubtful, still wondering, only for Rye to lean into the touch. Everything is suddenly so, so soft. Etain’s eyes start to close again as she leans forward and-

-and the comm buzzes and chimes loudly from the pocket of Etain’s vest on the footlocker. They both bolt upright, Rhedian cursing slightly as she knocks her head on headboard, and then Etain is scrambling physically over her in a stream of jumbled apologies, trying to get to the comm before she misses her contact’s signal.

Now it’s Rhedian’s turn to sign. Etain answers the comm and turns, trying to ignore Rhedian striding barefoot across the floor to the pile of crates where the rations and the instant caf might theoretically be.

Somehow she gets the feeling this might be a long morning.

[thesummerstorms]

Ⓐ

Rhedian & Etain, bold in a Rhedian x Etain verse,

Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours:

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend -espc during the Temple years ||

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them*** || I trust them*** || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

remeeting for the first time after being kids, Etain trusts Rye with her life but might be afraid of telling her the ways she failed as a Jedi. She gets over it though and then Rhedian was one of her People (tm) and not to be messed with

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed (in canon verse... but Etain has thought about it)

[thesummerstorms]

Know what? For funsies... Rhedian and Etain because I love them.

insists that they are an awesome dancer even though they’re terrible

Rhedian is very enthusiastic, so it doesn’t matter what Etain says, they’re going to be terrible dancers together

likes to watch reality tv

Rhedian likes the travel channel and singing competitions and was the one who secretly fueled Etain’s space!HGTV watching in the first place. Also, when one of them had a bad day during the Temple days, they used to sit in the same bunk and watch some sort of animal planet type show with stolen snacks to cheer up. Like, the puppy bowl type of stuff.

refuses to wear pants when they’re home alone

Etain again. What are giant shirts for if not to lay around pantless in your underwear. 

is the jealous / protective one

Etain is ridiculously, aggressively protective but Rye shows it in a more subtle, fix-the-problem type way

goes all out on the holidays

Rye, who I was believe I remember being described as “an over-excitable owl” is like a kid in the candy shop on any kind of holiday. Etain just kind of lets her go and stays out of the way, though it’s fun to watch

cries over books

Rhedian does so openly. If Etain ever cried over a book as a child, she hid it, but Rye would probably be the only one to know.

is terrible with kids

Neither. They both have an empathy that helps them out dealing with the littler ones a lot/

drinks too much caffeine

Etain has an entire corner in her kitchen devoted to it and dares anyone to try and challenge her for her title.

could sleep for twenty-four hours straight

Etain, provided it’s been enough time since her last cup of caf

never wears matching socks

Etain

punches a tree when they’re angry

Rhedian did this when they were kids and almost broke a finger before startling a nesting bird and Etain has never quite let her live it down.

gets scared by the toaster

Meanwhile, Etain has punched a toaster.

[cgarts]

Some Rhedian sketches of a redoing of her ‘robes’. 

a) i like to think there’s jedi that never trim/undo their padawan braids. That they just continue it their entire life. Adding ribbons and/or other little markers of accomplishment.

 b) it’s basically a big comfy sweater that’s actually exceptionally heavy. it’s multipurpose and most beloved by Rhedian next to the belt (which is just an intricately braided leather belt which was a gift from Orgus probably after a surprise growth spurt).

c) in her shadow/spy verse she wears more civilian clothes than robes. i wish i could make moodboards. it’s more cyberpunk influenced than comfy hippy/kindergarten teacher vibes.

d) i really like how her face turned out. looks bored and unpleased.

[cgarts]

Some Mandalorian Rhedian. I should put the ugly sketchy page about the details of her beskar/kit on this blog.

Since being a fairly accomplished saber dueler and kinda scary in hand to hand combat, staff fighting must come fairly easily. And, since it isn’t clear enough, the she’s mid-flourish and the staff is supposed to be resting precariously in the one palm.

Why is she getting ready to break someone’s jaw with that? Its a mystery~~~

[cgarts]

A progression. featuring: Rhedian and her fur collar.

[cgarts]

This is supposed to be a Rhedian pinup but tumblr’s sizing might be wonky.

She’s supposed to be wearing slippers. And, that isn’t her helm. >B)c

[thesummerstorms]

Okay, but, since my brain is all over the place:

Etain teasing/coaxing Scout into some Jedi children's game using Force powers because Scout is hurting and sad and needs to be distracted.

And Etain hasn't even played the game herself since she was very little, back before Rhedian became the only person who thought spending time with her was worthwhile. But she's trying so, so hard for Scout's sake, the two of them tussling and leaping around, throwing a limmie ball back and forth without laying a hand on it.

And even though she only meant to comfort Scout, Etain manages to rope Jusik in, and she's honest to goodness laughing. She has barely smiled since she woke up, but now she's laughing and teasing for this Padawan's sake.

Scout gives her a playful shove ("Foul!" Jusik yells, unheeded) and Etain just grabs her wrist, and pulls Scout to the ground with her, both of them swearing and giggling until Etain spontaneously pulls Scout's shoulders into a sideways hug. Kad'ika babbles excitedly from the sidelines.

And of course, Fi and Atin are watching, though they don't get involved; the game is not one a non-Jedi could have hope of participating in.

And Fi turns to Atin and asks,

"So who's telling Dar he has two kids now?"

[thesummerstorms]

@clingy-ghost

Okay, but, you know, influenced by things. And this is being typed stream of consciousness from my head into the Tumblr app so excuse the poor writing. But.

The image in my head is currently Rhedian and Etain being reunited while the latter is in full Mandalorian armor.

They're in the middle of an Imperial nest and whichever members of clan Skirata are with Etain are both frustrated and alarmed when she suddenly gasps over the comms and takes off running in the direction of a different firefight than the one they just desperately were fighting to end with no explanation.

And she's not just sprinting, she takes off with every inch of agility in her Jedi bones, so by the time they catch up with her, it's to see her ending one last pair of stormtroopers with even more aggression than normal, before turning to a woman they don't know (Rhedian) who is kneeling, maybe nursing an injury, maybe catching her breath.

And Etain is kneeling too and none of her companions have any idea what the hell is going on when she reaches one hand out, her voice audibly quivering in their helmets ("Rye-"), freezing just shy of touching the other woman's shoulder.

No one moves for a long second, as everyone grapples with their shock (or confusion, as the case may be). Then, still trembling, Etain pops the seal on her helmet and rests it on her knee.

"Rhedian it's-" Etain stumbles over herself, looking into Rye's blank, wide-eyed face. "I-"

And then, abruptly, Rhedian grabs her by the wrist, one thumb brushing just over where Etain's pulse should be beneath the armor, as if to check as if she's real. But the smile, the impossible, sudden hope is impossible to hide. Etain is white with shock, and Rhedian looks as if she's about to cry, but still, somehow Rhedian is smiling.

They haven't seen one another in years, and yet Rhedian says

"Of course it's you."

And then, with a laugh that verges on hysterical, "You didn't need to take your helmet off. I don't need to see your face to know you, Etain."

There's a noise- not quite a laugh and not quite a son and no one is sure who it comes from- and then Rhedian reaches up with her free hand and gently taps Etain's forehead.

"Don't get shot."

It takes several minutes for Etain to fully regain composure, and it takes an alarm to startle her back to herself.

But when she rises and offers Rhedian a hand, the rest of her family falls in protectively, trusting that this matters.

It isn't until Etain silently holds out her own lightsaber, the blade she so painstakingly crafted as a Padawan, until they see it snap easily to life in Rhedian's hands, until they see Etain automatically take a place back to back with this new stranger, Etain's saber alight in Rye's grip and Fulier's in Etain's that they start to understand how much.