#joking tone but i mean it this genuinely does feel so cowardly and genuinely ignorant to me

[tyrannuspitch]

on the topic of fantasy dialect though, i absolutely hate how the mcu has stopped making asgardian dialogue distinctive. like i didn't know it was possible for the mcu to get MORE culturally homogenised, but those mad lads at marvel studios have done it! they're actually erasing the cultures they made up now! not one of the asgardians in thor: ragnarok could get away with saying "i know not". in avengers: endgame, thor calls frigga allmother, queen of asgard, his... mum. his MUM. shakespeare economy in fucking SHAMBLES!!!

[ilonga]

new chapter of coppertop is out!

ao3

"The Clone Wars are over!" 

"For good."

* * * * *

The cheers are overwhelming. The Senate floor shakes with the strength of them, vibrating on its very foundations as Senators, Representatives, and aides shout and grin and laugh and cry. Palpatine, for his part, looks on from above, a cooly satisfied expression on his face. 

Anakin, for his part, grips the side of the Senate pod a little tighter instead of cheering. Or crying. This. . . this is everything he's hoped for. Isn't it?

He can't believe it. The war is over. The war is over.

He locks eyes with Padme, on the other side of the Senate. He can't tell how she's reacting.

"At long last," Palpatine continues, voice booming out through the building. The Senators quiet quickly. "Our years of hard work, of courage, of battles have come to fruition! Senators, representatives, citizens of the Republic, today we have reunited our great Galactic Republic. Today all of the people of our galaxy live under one flag. Today, everything is right with our galaxy."

"Of course," he continues, tone suddenly softer, "With this beautiful victory comes a new era, and all its necessary changes. It is with great humility and gratitude that I announce that from this moment forth, the office of the Chancellor relinquishes all emergency powers given during wartime. There is no need for them any longer. We are in an era of peace, prosperity, and. . . democracy."

He pauses and leans forward. "Let today be known as the first day of Galactic Reunification." The cheers, if possible, have returned even louder than before. "And may our children's children still celebrate it for years to come."

* * * * *

This time, it's Padme excusing herself from Bail and running at him full force. 

"Anakin," she says breathlessly, wrapping her arms around him and bringing him into a kiss. They pull apart, and words seem to fail her. They fail him, too.

They walk back to her apartment in silence, Padme smiling all the way with her arm in his. 

"It's over," she says finally, once they come to a stop in front of the door. "The war. . . the war is over."

"I can't believe it." he says honestly. Numbly. What does his life even look like without a war? Without constant deployments, a rapidly shrinking battalion, a damn near weekly electrocution session?

Huh. Wait. Do Jedi in peacetime. . . even have deadly encounters on the daily? What do they even do? Sit in the Temple? Negotiate trade deals? He tries to imagine it and finds that he can't. What does a Jedi's life look like if they're not fighting for it? What does the galaxy look like if it's not rapidly falling apart?

Padme looks up at him in confusion and he realizes he's frowning. "You're acting so strange," she says. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It was—it is what I wanted." he rushes to say. "I'm just—surprised. That's all. It's all happening so fast."

"Should have happened faster if you ask me." she grumbles. "It's about damn time." 

He laughs as they enter, taking care not to hit his head on the doorframe. If he squints, he imagines he can see a difference between the apartment now that it's peacetime versus before.  A little brighter, he'd like to think. Cleaner. Happier. "It still feels too good to be true."

Padme rolls her eyes at him in a rare display of playfulness. "My husband, ever the pessimist." she says, ignoring Anakin's snort of protest. "It's been less than a day of peace, Anakin. We've been fighting the war for three years. Of course it feels strange."

"So," she continues pulling him towards the couch, where they collapse in a giddy heap, "how long do I have you for, this time?"

When do you need to rush back to the Temple through a side door, is what she's really asking, and he's already cataloguing—Ahsoka's not back from Mandalore, yet, and Obi-wan should be in his quarters, resting, if he knows what's good for him, but this—this is huge. The war is officially, finally, over for good. Maybe he should be at the Temple for this. Will the Council need him? Sure, his position on the Council is a joke at best and a political tug-of-war at worst, but maybe they'll need a report of the Chancellor's actions. 

He dismisses the thought with a sharp huff. If they want to know what the Chancellor said, they can just watch the broadcast from the official channels, like everyone else. No need to bring treason into it. 

The Council. . . the war is over. The war is over. Which means. . . his glance lands on Padme's hands, resting gently on her abdomen. 

"Maybe I should just get it over with today," he says, realisation dawning on him slowly.

"What?"

Anakin turns to look her in the eyes. "Leave the Order." He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "The war is over. I can just—just go now. I'll tell the Council about us, turn in my saber, and then we can . . . I can just bring my stuff over." He doesn't even have all that much to carry—just a trinket or two, spare clothes, he doesn't even need the droid parts—He's giddy, all of a sudden. They've been talking about this, daydreaming about this, for years, and now the day is here and it's so much simpler than he could have ever imagined—Padme's due any day now— "We'll get you set up with a medcenter, and then we can go to Naboo, just like you wanted, and—"

"Anakin," Padme says, brow furrowed, "Anakin, slow down."

He stops. She doesn't sound nearly as excited at the prospect as he is. 

"You want to," she blinks rapidly, "leave the Jedi? Obi-wan? Ahsoka? Just like that?"

She sounds surprised. Why does she sound so surprised?

"You're due any day now. I don't want to leave them, of course I don't, but—we're going to be parents, Padme. A family. I've made my choice."

He half laughs. "It's not like we can keep it secret for much longer."

Padme bites her lip and looks down. "Anakin, you killed Dooku. You're half the reason this war is over. I hardly think they'll just—throw you away. Like you're nothing."

Anakin flinches at that. It's not like that, he wants to say. We knew what we were doing. We knew we were breaking the rules. "The rules—" he starts to speak.

"—are outdated." Padme cuts him off. "And we both know it."

"That doesn't mean they'll just throw them away for one person." In truth, he's not so sure how he feels about the Code and its rules. He's always felt. . . conflicted, for lack of a better word. But he's at peace with his decision to leave, to devote himself to Padme and their new family. Or. Well. He was. Now Padme's gone and dug up all his old insecurities again. 

"Fine." Padme finally says, albeit unhappily. "Fine, you go and tell them, and if they decide to kick you out, that's their prerogative, I suppose. But for goodness sakes', stop acting as if you want to get kicked out! You're a fine Jedi, Anakin. You can be both, you know. You don't need to—you don't need to martyr yourself for my sake."

"I'm not—that's not—" He cuts himself off, frustrated. "Fine."

"Good." She settles backwards, leaning against him again. Then— "Oh!" Padme says, hand flying to her abdomen. She turns, grinning, and grabs Anakin's hand—the flesh hand, that is—to press it against her belly. "Did you feel that? He kicked!"

"She," he banters back absentmindedly. Leia, he remembers them discussing a few days ago. Luke if it's a boy, Leia if it's a girl. He closes his eyes to try and sense the baby's presence, feeling a slight lurch under his palm.

It's. . . strange. Reaching for the force is strange. Like pushing aside a heavy curtain. He strains for a few seconds before finally—there. The presences are distant, far more distant than they should be, and he has a momentary lurch of panic but they're there, light and joyful and alive in a way—

Wait.

Presences?

"Padme," he says numbly, reaching again and—Yes. He's right. "There are two."

Padme pales rapidly. "What?"

"I—twins. There are two."

She gapes at him, blinking rapidly, then glances down at herself then back up again. "The med droid—oh, force, when I told it to keep it a surprise I didn't mean the number of babies!"

"We'll manage," he says, pushing past the shock. Two—two babies. Will they have Padme's eyes or his? Blond hair or dark? And two—sithspit, this makes the force-sensitivity question even more complicated than it already was. They'll have to adjust the nursery, for sure.

"I didn't—I didn't know." she says with a slightly bitter edge. "I should have known."

"Padme, you're the strongest person I know." Anakin says firmly. "And this is on the med droid, not you." 

"Really," she says wryly, changing tone. "Even Obi-wan? Yoda? Ahsoka? Your men?"

 "The strongest," he promises, biting back his grin. 

Padme takes a breath. "If it's two boys, I'd like the other after my father. But if it's two girls. . . what do you think of naming her Shmi?"

Oh.

"That's—wonderful." He blinks back sudden tears. "Thank you."

Padme pulls him into another kiss. Lighter, this time.

"You should probably go now." she says softly.

"Yeah," he says, swiping at his eyes with the palms of his hand. "Yeah, I will. Love you."

He hears her murmur it back as he turns to leave.

* * * * *

The Council Chamber is silent.

He'd waited for the end of the meeting to make his confession—a bit cowardly, he knows, but he's already rocked the boat enough as is. The meeting itself had been shorter than usual, with an air of relief permeating the room. They'd watched the broadcast from one of Master Ti's holos, once, twice, before Master Windu confirmed what they already knew—yes, it was completely genuine. Then, plans to demilitarise. Then—

He'd spoken up.

Now there's silence.

His comm beeps. He startles then determinedly ignores it, waiting for a reaction.

"To be completely honest," Obi-wan speaks first. "I can't exactly say I'm surprised." He looks around, making eye contact with the others. "Well, surely I can't be the only one."

To Anakin's surprise, there are a few light giggles. Master Ti is even smiling.

"Subtle, you have not been." Yoda agrees. "Subtle the Senator has not been, either."

"Like a pair of star speckled Alderaanian love wrens," Shaak Ti agrees.

He gapes.

To be fair, it was probably easy enough to guess that he'd harbored feelings for Padme—and maybe even that she felt the same for him. But for force's sake, they'd expected the marriage too? The children?

That's a bit. . . much. 

His comm beeps again.

"Should you wish to leave the Jedi Order," Mace says, looking as amused as the rest of them, "that is, of course, your decision. But—" He looks around and seems to find the agreement he's looking for. "I believe this discussion can be tabled for now. The war is over, after all. You have fulfilled the prophecy."

 Okay, this is definitely not what he was expecting. What had happened to "You will be expelled from the Jedi Order, Anakin,"? "Attachments are forbidden,"?

He's relieved. Incredibly relieved. But also. . . 

Unsatisfied.

And he remembers—he hasn't fulfilled the prophecy, actually. There's a Sith—a dark side user—in the Senate, leading the Senate, and he's just let him be. He hasn't even told the Council. And sure, nothing bad seems to have come of it—it's Chancellor Palpatine for force's sake, the man could hardly hurt a fly—but still.

He closes his eyes and tries to find some equilibrium.

But—

Something in the force is recoiling, echoing, empty and vacant and cold.

He frowns.

"Master Windu, are you. . . feeling alright?"

Master Windu glances up in confusion. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The force feels. . . strange. Around you." He struggles to find more words to explain it and finds that he can't. It's just. . . an ache. A devastating ache. With a strange twist to it.

Master Windu frowns at him. "I don't feel it." He pauses. "Are you absolutely certain this. . . feeling of yours is centered around me?"

He closes his eyes. No, he realizes, it's not just Mace. This strange thread of—of wrongness echoes throughout the Chamber, curling around various Council members with an icy chill.

Reaching for the babies' force presence had also been strange, Anakin remembers, trying and failing to squash his panic. They'd felt—so far away. Or maybe it was he himself that felt removed. This is the second time that reaching for the force has felt off—what's happening to him? What the hell is going on?

His comm beeps yet again.

"Answer that, you may, young Skywalker." Master Yoda says from his seat. A few others hum in affirmation.

He switches it on.

"Anakin," comes Padme's panicked voice, strange and staticky through the receiver.

"Anakin, I think the babies are coming."

[xwing-baby]

Ascent of The Emissary: The Golden Star

Word Count: 4k (whoops)

Series Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...The FIRST ORDER have announced themselves to the galaxy and are set on destroying the Galactic Alliance. A young woman, born and raised in the rich Order sympathising society, on the planet RAELA, meets her supposed sworn enemy in a crowded marketplace and comes to a crossroads in her life. Does she follow the path laid out to her by her FAMILY or does she carve her own, JOIN THE FIGHT against the Order and BETRAY everything she’s ever known.

Chapter Summary: Kyla has decided to go to the Golden Star to find Rafan. Will the mysterious stranger help her make her decision or will this be the end of her?

<- Previous chapter    //     Introduction    //    Next Chapter ->

The chauffeur dropped us all back at home, my father and brother relaxed on the couch whilst my mother ordered the droids to get dinner ready. 

“I’m going out this evening,” I announced, having not moved from the doorway, “I said I would meet a friend for dinner,” 

“But we’ve already eaten,” My father said plainly as he sat down in his armchair. 

“It’s more of a catch-up,” I explained, lying through my back teeth to try and find a way out of the house, “Just some snacks, I haven’t seen her for a while and-”

“It’s fine, darling,” My mother swanned into the room, handing my father a drink. “Go enjoy yourself, be back before dark,” She smiled kindly. My father grumbled but I ignored him already making my way to the door.

“Of course. Love you,” I called before shutting the door behind me. It was the end of the work day, everyone in the city was moving about. I managed to find my way, asking a few people along the way directions to the Golden Star. 

I was apprehensive. Not really sure why I was going to an unknown location directed by a man I did not know. This could be a trap. There was a high likelihood that it was and that I was going to get there and he would rob me, or that the Golden Star was completely made up. 

I’d never been this far from the city centre on my own before. The bustling streets gave way to quieter but tighter ones, weaving in and out of old stone buildings from before the old Republic. The cobbled stone on the floor was uneven and even missing in places. It was clear that no one from central had been here in a long time. 

I finally came upon the right place. The stranger I had asked for directions said it was opposite a blue wooden shed. The blue wooden shed was there, but there were no signs for the Golden Star. I had assumed there would be, like any other bar in the city. I walked along the narrow street, past houses and some suspicious children who stopped playing their game to watch me. I hadn’t realised how out of place I must have looked, still in my gown from the presentation earlier in the day

Eventually I came to a small red door. The red paint was chipped and scorch marks littered the panel. A yellow star was painted at the top. This had to be the place, right? It did fit the description I suppose, and for a secret Resistance meetup this was a pretty good place. I looked back at the children, who were still staring, and cautiously tapped on the door. 

I could hear music inside, and some chatter though dampened by the large walls encasing the bar inside. I knocked again before deciding just to go in. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

As I opened the door, light poured into the small room and the chatter stopped immediately. The patrons, all of many different species and races, all turned to look at me. Their many eyes flicked over me then landed on the pin on my chest. 

“Get her out of here!”  A man yelled, grabbing everyone’s attention further.  “Imperial scum!” 

“What is she doing?” A scandalized Rodian called. More people stood up now, coming closer to me. I immediately regretted my decision, clutching at the pin on my chest in an attempt to hide it. I stepped backwards to find the door away but realised I had walked too far in and instead of a wall, my hand found the front of a very angry looking man. I whimpered and jumped out of his way. The man growled.

“Kill her!” 

“He-hey I-I’m not,” I started, shrinking back towards the door as the people crowded around me. I was terrified, and gripped the pin tight trying to stop them pulling it off me. Tears welled up in my eyes and I pressed my back to the door as they came closer. This was a very very bad idea. “I’m sorry!” 

“Hey!” Rafan jumped out of nowhere, put his arm over my shoulder. I looked up at him, my heart still rattling against my chest but I was thankful. “Whoa! whoa it’s fine she’s with me,” 

“You know the rules, Raf,” The barman called over. 

“She’ll take it off, she’s okay I promise,” Rafan turned to me and looked at the pin on my chest. “Give me that and they won’t threaten to kill you, okay?” 

“Promise you’ll give it back?” I whispered, “My mother will notice if I lose it,” 

“Sure, just not in here,” He nodded. I unclipped the badge and hesitantly handed it to him. My stomach tied itself into knots at the thought of him losing. He took it and flipped in his hand before slotting it in his back pocket, “You all can back off, she’s with me,” 

The crowd backed off, returning to their seats. One grumbled something in a language I didn’t understand, from the tone I could tell it wasn’t pleasant, Rafan replied with similar venom. I gave a questioning look to Rafan, who just rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Rafan took me over to a table at the side of the catina. Two people sat at the table, a man and a woman. The woman had dark hair and sharp features with a menacingly stern look on her face as she watched Rafan and I approach. She wore all black, with a coat zipped up to her neck. The man next to her looked a little nicer. He was tall and broad with dark blonde hair that hung just around his ears, he had the shadow of a beard around his jaw and lips, which turned to a smile when he looked up and saw his friend. Rafan sat down with them, next to the man and offered the chair next to him. I sat down obediently, trying my best not to look as scared as I felt. 

“Ben, Kal, this is Kyla,” Rafan introduced the people at the table as he sat down.

“Stars above, Raf you do have awful taste in women,” The woman, Kal, sniggered. 

“She’s just a friend,” Rafan rolled his eyes.

“Why have you got friends with the Order?” Ben asked, looking me up and down disapprovingly. 

“I’m not with the Order,” I said as a sudden wave of confidence coming over me. “I am neutral,” 

“If you grew up on Raela, you can’t be neutral,”Kal sneered. “I mean look at you, you’re terrified just talking to us,” 

“Leave her alone, Kal. She can’t help it. Her father is Ren Olen, of course she’s going to be scared of us,” 

“What do you mean of course I’m scared. I’m not scared,” I protested. The trio laughed at me. “And how’d you know who my father is?” 

“Remember where you are kid, we know everything about everyone in Raela City- especially your father,”

“Why would the resistance care about my father? He’s nothing to do with you,” 

“Well you should tell that to my brother, or most people in this room really,” 

“Kal, come on,” 

“My father is not a murderer,” I 

“I- just ignore her,” Rafan tried to cover for himself, but anger bubbled up in my stomach.

“No. What did you mean? Tell me,” I said sternly. The trio looked between each other, then down at their drinks, “Maybe my father was right about the resistance afterall, weak and cowardly,” I spat, pushing my chair back and standing up quickly.

“Kyla!” Rafan protested, grabbing my arm to stop me leaving. I pulled away from his reach, stepping away from the table. 

“No. I came here because I genuinely thought you might have been the better way. But you’re worse than them. I am risking everything to be here and you make jokes about my father like that! I’m leaving,” I rushed outside, ignoring the chatter and jeers of the patrons as I left, slamming the door behind me as I stepped outside.

A few moments later, Rafan followed me outside. “Kyla, Kyla wait come on,”I span around to yell at him.

“What? Good job humiliating me,” I exclaimed, ”I feel like an idiot! Why did I even come here?”

“Look I’m sorry, Kyla. Just come back inside. I’m sorry,” Rafan pointed back into the Golden Star, holding my hand again. 

“Get off me,” I ripped my hand out of his and stumbled backwards. “I should never have come. It’s all a joke. My mother was right, I should join the First Order, or marry an officer,” 

“Wait what?” Rafan 

“Yeah, that’s why I came here tonight. I thought you could help me make the decision and you did, so good job.” I said sarcastically.

“Kyla you can’t-,” 

“Why not? You don’t know me. What is it to you?” 

“Come with me, I’ll tell you about anything you want to know. We don’t have to go in there, They’re not usually such assholes, it’s just been a tough few weeks for us all,” 

I thought about it for a moment. Rafan seemed so sincere, and he seemed genuinely sorry for what was said. I sighed, and uncrossed my arms.

“Fine, where are we going to go?” 

“You’ll see,” 

Tentatively, I followed Rafan until we came to a small stone house. He opened the door and showed me inside. It was dark inside so I couldn’t see much and followed Rafan blindly through one room and up some tight twisted stairs. Two flights later, we climbed out onto the roof. The view was stunning. 

I could see for miles around the city, as the houses disappeared out into fields of green and yellow crops. The sun was setting, casting the sky a beautiful pink colour. Three moons were barely visible, but would soon become brighter as the light faded and darkness came. I was speechless for a moment, it had been so long since I’d seen the sunset so fully, the view from my home was disrupted by the large buildings of the central city I could barely see the sky. I felt so closed in, but here I felt so free. The world was bigger than the walls of the city. 

Rafan and I sat on the edge of the roof and were silent for a moment, enjoying the peace that came with the early evening. 

“Ask me anything, anything at all. I know you must have some questions,” Rafan said, still looking out at the view. I smiled wide, happy that I wasn’t being dragged here to be pushed off the roof.

“When did you join the resistance?” I asked tentatively.

“I was seven years old, maybe,” 

“That’s so young? What happened?” 

“Oh you know, the usual. Parents died, had nowhere else to go and were picked up by a fighter,” He said nonchalantly, I gasped.

“That’s horrible!” I exclaimed, Rafan shrugged, “How did they die?” 

“My father was killed by a bounty hunter, my mum killed herself about a year after,” 

“I am sorry,” I said sincerely.

“Why? It was nothing to do with you,” Rafan said with a laugh. I frowned. 

“And what do you do for the Resistance?” 

“I want to be a pilot,” He said, turning to face me. His eyes lit up with excitement, “I’ve been training for a while now and I think I’ll be able to soon. Once I’m back on base,” 

“So you don’t live here, on Raela, all the time?” 

“No, I’ve been here for about two months now. I’m technically on a mission,” 

“Really? What’s the mission?” I said excitedly.

“Classified,” He said seriously, turning to face me now.

“Oh, oh of course,” I slunk back, a little embarrassed. We were silent again.

“Why do you want to know all of this?” Rafan spoke after a moment, “Why did you come to see me? I could have killed you,”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I settled back on my hands, looking up at the deepening colours of the sky. “I think all my life I’ve been taught that the Republic is wrong and the worst thing to ever happen to the Galaxy, and I don’t know, everything that happened today has made me question that a little. It’s one thing reading about planets being destroyed in the outer rim but hearing people talk about the destruction of the republic and even core worlds who don’t comply. I guess it just made it all a bit more real,” I said, a little embarrassed I looked back out to the countryside, “You must think I’m an idiot,” 

“I think you’re a product of your environment,” He turned back to me, looking me directly in the eyes, the intensity of his stare made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t look away, “The fact that you’re questioning it is very admirable,” 

“I am risking everything to be here,” I said honestly, “If my father saw me out here…,” I trialled off not even wanting to think about what would happen.

“What? I’m that bad?” Rafan smiled, nudging my arm to bring me back to reality.

“Today, I was introduced to Armatige Hux. He’s on course to be general for the first order.” I said, changing the subject,  “My mother is in love with him, she’s desperately trying to get me to marry him,” I shivered at the thought of actually marrying the man

“I’ve heard about him,” 

“Awful man, he will make a brilliant General though,” 

“Well I look forward to the wedding invite,” Rafan joked. I laughed, and kissed my teeth. The sun was going down now, the orange haze barely visible above the horizon. The lights of the city were turning on, I knew I had to leave. If I didn’t, no doubt my mother would start to panic. 

“I have one more question,” 

“Yeah?,” 

“Do you think what you are doing with the resistance is worth it? Do you believe you can win?” 

“Yes. We have to,” 

---

The next day I was back at Rafan’s house on the edge of the city. We had agreed on the rooftop the evening before that Rafan would help me join the resistance. It would have to remain a secret, only a few people could know. People on both sides would be outraged if they found out what we were doing. 

I had snuck out early in the morning, just as the sun was coming up and took a taxi to get there. Adrenaline was pumping through me a mile a minute, I was not one to sneak out and especially not to see a resistance fighter. We’d had breakfast together, and talked for a while before Rafan decided to start my initiation.

“Okay so if you really want to do this, you’re going to have to learn to fight,” Rafan said. I groaned but stood up from the table and followed him to the centre of the room. Rafan pushed some boxes out the way, and the make-shift couch made of old sacks and clothes scarps to the side of the room. 

“Isn’t there something else I could do?” I whined. Rafan frowned and crossed his arms, I didn’t have a choice. “Fine, just promise you won’t hurt me,” 

“I won’t hurt you, princess. Don’t worry,” He teased. 

“Any more of that and I will punch you in the face,” I snapped as I scowled at him. Raf laughed. 

“What? Don’t like being called Princess, Princess?” He teased, a shit eating grin on his face as he stalked around me. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Rafan come on, I don’t want to,” I complained again, turning on the spot to follow him as he paced around. 

“Fine I’ll stand still. Just punch me! Go on Princess, you won’t hurt me,” I took a deep breath and nodded then balled my hand up and punched the top of his muscular arm.

“Ow!” I cried, instantly recoiling and cradling my fist. “What are you, made of metal? Stars above!” 

“Don’t hold your fist like that, hold it like this,” He showed me the proper position. “And stand like this,” He stood on his toes, with his legs spread one infront of the other stepping towards me. I copied. “Good, now go again,” 

“But-,”

“Come on Princess, go!” I punched his palm again. It worked! I squealed as I hit him and quickly stepped back again. Rafan laughed. “Less squealing this time. This is a fight, concentrate,” 

“Concentrate,” I muttered, getting back into the stance once again, hitting him again. This time Rafan grabbed my fist. I stopped. 

“No! Don’t stop! Go for my body, get free!” 

With my free arm, I tried again. I hit him in the stomach, making him let me go and step back. Encouraged, I tried again. Raf wasn’t fighting back which helped but it was encouraging. Eventually we reset and Rafan started to fight back, forcing me to dodge and make a few defensive moves. I wasn’t good but I at least was starting to enjoy myself. 

I threw another punch harder than before, determined to throw him off. However, Rafan blocked it and I stumbled backwards. My knees buckled and I fell backwards, and before I could stop myself hit the floor with my shoulder. Pain shot through me and I cried out, clutching it quickly with my opposite arm. 

“Shit! Are you alright?” Rafan got down on the ground and helped me to sit up. I winced and nodded. 

“I’m fine,” I mumbled through gritted teeth. 

“Let me see,” He pulled the collar of my shirt back to look at my shoulder. He carefully ran a finger over it making me shiver. He touched a sensitive part making me hiss. “Sorry,” He whispered.

Being so close to him made my heart race. I watched his face carefully as he looked at my injury. His brow was furrowed, running his fingers over the bruised skin carefully to assess the damage. I could see every detail on his face, noticing for the first time the white scar that ran along his jaw and the bump on the bridge of his nose where it had been broken once before. He carefully pushed my shoulder, making me yelp again. Then he caught me staring. 

His dark brown eyes looked directly into my soul. I wanted to look away but I just couldn’t. I could barely breathe as I saw his eyes flick to my lips for a second then back up. A few seconds felt like an eternity. He leant back on his heels, breaking the eye contact and smiled.

“I think you’ll be okay, Princess. I think we’ll leave the fighting for now,” He said as he pushed himself back to standing. He held his hand out for me to pull myself up with. I took a shaking breath, still not sure what had just happened, or nearly happened. 

“Hey Raf are you-,” Ben appeared in the room, he stopped still when he saw me there. He looked at me suspiciously, looking between me and Rafan. “What’s she doing here?” 

“Don’t start that again Ben,” Rafan chastised, “We were just training, Kyla’s joining the resistance,” 

“Well can you stop? We’ve got work to do,” Ben said sternly. 

“Y-yeah of course,” 

“I should go and ice my shoulder,” I said quickly, gathering my things from the table. “Thanks for helping Raf,” 

“Sure. It’s no problem. See you tomorrow?” 

“Of course,” I smiled. Ben rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Raf. I stepped around him and left the house.

“You’re insane, Raf. Truly,” 

I walked back home, deciding to take advantage of the fine weather. I tried to force Ben’s words out of my head, but his attitude towards me was well founded, to his credit. What was I doing there, really? I had no doubt in my mind that Ben thought I was a spy, and Rafan probably believed that too. Yet, he still wanted to help me. Then, I thought of that moment. The look in his eyes, I was so close to kissing him the idea of it made butterflies swarm in my stomach. I shook my head, I wasn’t there for him. He could look like a Hutt and I would still be there. I wanted to join the resistance! I wanted to make a difference! The fact that Rafan was so nice to me, and so handsome was merely a bonus.

Eventually, I made it home. I’d made a quick stop at a bakery on the way, if my mother had noticed I’d been gone all morning fresh bread would soothe her. I opened the door and was met by the usual silence of the house. I walked through the house, dropping the bread onto the kitchen counter and picked up the datapad on the table to read anything that had happened since I’d left this morning.

“Where have you been today?” My mother’s voice interrupted my reading, making me jump. She was uncharacteristically stern, making me look up immediately.

“Huh?” 

“We were meant to be going to the senate today? Remember?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot!” 

“And I asked Sam where you were and she didn’t know either,” She put her hands on her hips, “I thought we agreed that if you want a little more freedom around here, you have to tell the droids where you’re going,” 

“Yes Mother I’m sorry,” I sighed. She walked around the counter and inspected the package of bread then sighed and smiled at me. She was never cross for long. Then a curious look came across her face and she came closer.

“What?”

“Is that a bruise?” She pulled the neck of my shirt back, revealing the blue bruise on my shoulder. “How did you get that?” 

“Hit it on the shelf,” I lied quickly. My mother tutted and let it go. 

“Well, you’re lucky it’s not visible,” She sighed,  “You’ve got an important dinner coming up soon you can’t be looking so rough,” 

“What do you mean about an important dinner?” 

“I set up dinner with Armitage,” She said matter of factly. My jaw dropped. 

“W-why would you do that? I said I wasn’t sure about-”

“Well I think you’d make a great pair, darling and frankly I think you just need to get out there! You can’t live here forever you know. You need a husband, I think Armitage would make you very happy,” 

“When is it?” 

“Tomorrow,” 

“Why didn’t you ask me first? I’ve got plans for tomorrow,” 

“Well how am I meant to know if you won’t tell me anything!” She exclaimed. “I’ve barely spoken to you in the past few weeks!” 

“Can’t you reschedule it?” 

”What are you even doing?” She continued, ignoring my question, “You haven’t left the house in months then suddenly you’re going out all day?” 

“I-I’m just with some friends,” 

“How come I’ve never met these friends?” 

“They’re new friends,” I lied, quickly trying to think of something that she would like. “I- uh I met them at the Order presentation,” 

“Oh!” Her concerned look instantly dropped to a smile, “That’s wonderful darling. For a moment there I was worried you were off with some nasty rebellion kids! You know I heard on the holo-net that there’s a large rebel group settling on Raela now. How they got here I’ll never know,” 

“Don’t be silly, mother. I’d never,” I laughed. 

“Well just tell your new friends that you have to reschedule. I’m sure they will be fine with it! Especially if you say who it is,” She grinned and kissed my cheek as she walked past me. I grimaced but forced a smile for her.

“Sure,” 

“Oh I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. If I was your age I’d be all over that man!” 

“I’m sure Father would love to hear that,” I called after her, laughing a little myself now. My mother barked a laugh, shrugging it off as she left the room.

Once she was gone, I relaxed. What had I got myself into now? 

--- 

A/N: I could write Rafan forever, I love him so much!! What do you guys think?? Let me know!!

tagging:

@dracos-jedi-marvel @buckysbeloved @cajunquandary @brujademente @waatermelon-sugaar @anstarwar @this-cat-is-dea @seafrost-fangirl @grincheveryday @dindjarinsleftvambrace @girlreadsfanfic

[queenmuzz]

Deep Blue Sea: Chapter XI

Father Knows Best

Read the full story on Ao3 Here

WARNING: WHILE THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN OUTRIGHT ABUSE, BE WARNED THAT PARENTAL EMOTIONAL CONFLICT IS INVOLVED. THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR FOR PARENTS, NOR SHOULD YOU BE FORCED TO ACCEPT IT, IF IT IS HAPPENING TO YOU.

The young man opened the door for you as you slowed to a stop under the alcove.  He was impeccably dressed, and smiled professionally as he took your keys from you.

While he got in the driver's seat, you straightened your dress, your purse, and stiffened your posture.  You’d gone so long without makeup, that by just putting it on this afternoon, you felt that old shot of confidence you felt when you first tried it as a teenager.  And today, you’d need all the confidence you could muster.

Vergil that evening had seen you just before you headed out, and a couple of weeks ago, you’d have not batted an eyelash at his reaction.  But now?  With the knowledge that you’d gained?

“You look lovely,” he had said as you approached the glass.  He’d been swimming lazy laps around, and stopped dead in his tracks, (or was it in mid stroke?) when he’d seen you, and you instantly flushed.  Ever since your meeting with Vergil’s rambunctious sibling, every word, action, and smile was now interpreted under a filter of the feelings he felt for you. 

Or was it now all unfiltered?

“Thank you Vergil,” you smiled as you put on your heels, (ugh, how you detested the things) and checked your makeup in the mirror one more time.

“What is the occasion?”

“Well, my father,” you could swear you saw him tense up, “has finally come home from his business venture, and has invited me out for dinner, so I have to dress up a bit, to keep up appearances.”

“You don’t seem to be looking forward to this”

Drat, the merman was far too observant for his own good. “Well, meetings with my father tend to have the added pressure of him mixing his business in everything, so I always kind of feel tense at these gatherings.”

“Will your future bondmate be there? Perhaps he will be able to smooth things out for you.”

You glanced down at the engagement ring that fit snugly around your finger.  Was it just you, or did it feel heavier nowadays?  And had the pink diamonds lost their sparkle? “Unfortunately, he’ll be gone for another week,”

“But isn’t your bonding ceremony very soon?” “Yeah, he’s gonna cut  it real close…” you chuckled without any sort of happiness as you placed your handbag strap over your shoulder.

“Sifa?”

That damnable name.  You should have asked him to stop, he would have acquiesced, if reluctantly.  But you’d been selfish, and you liked the meaning behind it, so you let the tragic charade play out.  But it wouldn’t be much longer now…

You summoned all your acting skills and pasted on a smile.  “It’s just the stress of planning this whole thing, I’m glad it’s almost over.”  You looked up at the clock, “Shoot, looks like I’m cutting it close now too, gotta go!  Seeya  later Vergil!”  And you practically ran out the door, as fast as the wobbly shoes could take you.

“Ah, good to see you miss,” the maitre’d smiled graciously at you as you walked in, before grabbing a menu, “Your father is waiting for you,  this way please.”  You followed him to one of the private rooms.  Thank God, you thought.  You needed the much needed privacy for your conversation this evening.

“SWEETHEART!” Your father bellowed as he got out of his chair, and threw his arms around you in an embrace that you honestly had to admit you really missed. “How is my wonderful daughter doing?  It feels like ages since I saw you last,” he sat down as a waiter refilled his glass of water, and then filled yours.  He had a bowl of clam chowder in front of him, and at your place, there was an appetizer sized bowl of chicken caesar salad, “I took the liberty of ordering it for you, it’s always been your favourite. Now,” he said as he placed his spoon into the creamy concoction, “let’s enjoy this long overdue father-daughter date!”

“So, your future father-in-law was so busy showing me his gun collection that he forgot to set the timer on the oven, so I says to him ‘Jerry, you smell something burning?’ and he starts cursing in both English AND Japanese as we both race to the oven.” Your father dug into the roast baby potatoes “mmm, I missed this… Rice is no substitute to the humble tuber.  Anyways, he and I open it up and it’s like the literal gates of hell with all the smoke pouring out.  Couldn’t get the smell of burning bread out for weeks!  And the poor loaf,” he looked genuinely mournful.  “Snatched away far too soon, before it could even fulfil its destiny”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his dramatic re-enactment as you chewed a biteful of tortellini. Your father was right, it had been far too long since you’d spent time with him.  His corny puns, his wacky stories, and his boasts. It made you almost forget why you were being tense around him.

“Ah yes,” he speared a cut of his steak, “almost forgot to pass along a message from Fredrick.  He’ll be here in about a week, says he’s really sorry he didn’t come home sooner.  Apparently there were some last minute certification delays with the government,  But,” he said as he chewed “I’m sure you’ve got nearly everything under control.  By the time he arrives, all he’ll need is a tux fitting, a low key bachelor party, and you’ll both be good to go!”

A waitress, dressed prim and proper poured both of you some wine.  It was hard to ignore the way your father stared just a touch too intently at her form fitting dress as she bent slightly to pour you a glass.  

When she had slipped out of sight, he chuckled, “there’s one thing I miss about Japan, it’s the ladies…” he stared into space for a little bit, before shaking his thoughts.  You definitely did not want to know what he had been thinking. “So, you’ve probably been a busy bee, for the past few months, you must be grateful that your big day is almost here, and that your mother is finally off your case.”

“Yes… about that.” you wiped your mouth politely with a napkin, before taking a deep breath.  It was time.  It should have been done a long time ago, but it was now or never.  Your father picked up on the change of tone and paused, his forkful of lobster halfway to his mouth.

“I… I don’t think I can go through with this.”

The only sound, aside from the distant murmurs of other diners outside your room, was a sharp CLINK as the seafood loaded fork clattered on the plate.

“Pardon?” he asked, unbelieving.

“I don’t think I can marry Fredrick.” you repeated.  This was the moment, the cat was out of the bag, and you forced yourself to continue, refusing to meet your father’s dumbfounded gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with him, he hasn’t hurt me, or cheated on me, but I can’t see him as the man I would spend the rest of my life with, let alone raise a family, or run a business.  I… I just don’t think we have what it takes…”

After a few moments of agonizing silence, and you grew the balls to look up at him.

He was just staring at you, before breaking out in laughter.  

Your hands, currently on your lap, balled up into fists as he just threw back his head in uproarious cackling.  Here you were, practically baring your soul to the man you trusted most in this world, and he had the fucking gall to laugh?

“Oh man,” he said, wiping up a stray tear, “Sweetheart, of all the jokes you could tell me, this is one of the more creative ones.”  He was on attempt number two for the forkful of lobster.

“It’s not a joke, dad!  I’ve never been so serious in my life!  I’ve been thinking all these past few months,” you tried to keep your voice down, but your emotions, once held back by a dam, were now breaking through, “and I really believe getting married, right now, to this man is the wrong thing for both me and him.”

“Sweetheart,” your father crooned like you were a tantruming toddler, which made it even more infuriating, “I know what you’re feeling.”

“Then you agree?” you asked hopefully.

“You’re getting cold feet.  It happens to a lot of newlyweds.  Hell, it happened to me and your mom.”

“Yeah, and now you guys can’t stand to be in the same room as each other, so” you spread out your hands in a ‘duh’ motion. “I think that proves my point.”

Your father’s face darkened.  “You have no idea what’s at stake here, how many connections will just be snapped in half if this wedding doesn’t go through.  I’ve made so many deals, so many business negotiations with Fredrick’s family.  All hinging on this one ceremony.  Do you want to take all the hard work I’ve done and throw it all away?” “But-”

“And think what it will do to our family’s reputation, your reputation!?” He slammed the fork down, jostling the dishes on the table, causing you to jerk in surprise.  It had been a long time since you had seen him angry, and frankly, it kinda scared you.  “Your mother is going to be heartbroken, she’s wanted this to be the perfect wedding for you.  And your bridesmaids!  They look to you for leadership.  Are you going to be the one to let them down, to have them think of you as the lady that was too cowardly to take that final step.  And Fredrick!  Are you willing to be remembered by him as the woman who broke his heart?”

“I-”  you couldn’t respond.  You had expected resistance to your decision, but not outright hostility.  And as much as you hated to admit it, your father was right.  This wedding, this marriage, it wasn’t just about you, it never had been.  And as much as you tried to fight it, the damage you would cause by breaking this off would be catastrophic.

“Look”, your father’s voice returned to its gentle tone, “Don’t think I don’t care about you, nothing further could be from the truth, it’s just that I’ve been in your shoes before, and I know what’s best for you…”

“Dad…” you whispered, your eyes blurry from unwept tears, as your father slowly got up and walked to your side of the table, before wiping your eyes delicately with his napkin.

“Now, now,” he murmured as he smiled, “this is supposed to be a happy time.  If it puts your mind at ease, I can have my lawyer draft you up an iron-clad prenup.  That way, if things go pear shaped, you’ll be covered.  But you said it yourself, Fredrick is a very nice man, and if I had the slightest inkling that he would hurt you, I would have never let him even meet you.” He knelt down, and placed both of his hands on your cheeks, “Just trust me...trust in yourself.  You can do this.”

And that was it, you broke down in tears, the months of stress making you crumble in your father’s arms.  He hugged you close as he murmured soft reasurances into your crown.  And you believed him.  You needed to go through with this.

After a few minutes, you felt emptied, like a wet towel that had been put through the wringer.  The emotional weight was gone, but instead of feeling relieved, you just felt...hollow.  Your father slowly let go of you and made his way back to his side of the table, almost as if nothing had even happened.  Your breathing had almost returned to normal, but there was still an ache in your chest, as if you had almost drowned.

“Now,” your father said, as he raised up his glass in a toast.  “To a promising future”

You raised up yours, and repeated numbly, 

“To a promising future.”

******

You’d returned home,  tossed your heels into the closet and went straight to the washroom to clean off the makeup, once immaculate, now smeared on your face.  The valet’s look of concern and pity was too much to bear, and you slipped him a hundred just for him to stop looking at you that way. 

It took several rinses to not only wash off the makeup, but to make your face look presentable to Vergil, to place that pleasant mask you had to wear for just a few more days.  Checking your calendar, you assured yourself that in three days time, the full moon would appear, and the weather forecast had predicted clear skies.  The stars...or in this case, the moon had aligned perfectly.  All you needed now was to locate the damn sword.  That would be easy though, the warehouse was the place Doctor Griffon kept his ‘research’, at the behest of your father, and there was a walk in safe there.  You’d have to access  security footage to make doubly sure, but if there was any place it could be, that would be it.  You’d have to do the break in on the very night, to avoid any suspicion that a prison break was about to take place, but you had keys and knew codes.  Just slip in, slip out, and drop Vergil off like he was a package.  Simple.

It was actually making you feel better, as you typed on your laptop, with an oblivious Vergil chowing down on some ramen and a plateful of bacon nearby.  The fact you had something that was 100 percent in your control, that you alone were responsible for, grounded you.  

You watched the security feed, as the Good Doctor got ready to leave for the day.  He was placing manilla folders in a filing cabinet located in the safe, its dim light making it hard to see-wait, there it was.   Leaning against it, there was the familiar long slender case, unmistakable due to its size and shape.  Doctor Griffon, obviously satisfied with his work for the day, looked to be whistling as he left.  It would be a cinch to do this.

You closed the laptop, and looked up at Vergil, who was watching you with interest.

“How was your dinner?” he asked as he slurped up the last of the noodles.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” you lied.  It was getting easier and easier to do.  “Fredrick should be showing up next week, so all I gotta do is finish up the final touches, and…” either the wine or the play acting was affecting you, because your head was starting to ache.

“Are you alright, Sifa?”  his voice seemed to take the pain away, slightly.

“Just tiredness, I suppose.  All this planning has been keeping me up at night.” “Would you like me to sing?” he offered, and you were disinclined to accept, before your tiredness changed your mind.

“That would be very kind of you to do so, your singing is very soothing to me.”

He almost looked as if he was beaming as he opened his mouth to sing, his voice taking an echoy quality in the open space.

Isil shem’ore

Isil lin’ore

Mira pharar, mira ofar, mira kanar,

D’rashana karif’ore

Isil dilshonin sa oplalim

Sa kintal o sa polim

Sa racarto shipal o sa whelik

Nekalin parand’ore fa pishim

Ah, mira sifa, mira sifa

Winik fa pishim lin’more.

And as your mind slowly became comfortably numb to the day’s events, you idly wondered to yourself, Strange, I thought this was an ode to the Sun?

******

You weren’t quite sure what was more painful, the driving rain that beat into your exposed body like hail, or your fingertips as they clung to the craggy rock, being cut to ribbons as you lost and regained your grip on sharp edges.  

Or maybe it was the gale-force winds screaming as they whipped around you, through you like knives of ice.  Strange, the winds did not howl or scream, as winds ought to do.  No that would have been preferable to what you heard.  Snatches of voices, reminding you of your failures, of your shortcomings…

“Will you now….make me the luckiest man in the world?”

“I understand you're eager to put all your knowledge to good use, but you deserve a break”

“It doesn't speak, they don't have the intelligence to”

“Never satisfied with their lot in life, they take, and take, and take…”

“Look, my father said that was usually the reserve of the ladies, and you're getting a top notch wedding planner, so how hard could it be?”

“But you do not love him.”

“This is YOUR day, you need to go all out!  With luck, this will be the most important day of your life.” 

 “This is supposed to be YOUR day, you shouldn’t be such a doormat”

“You don’t just call anyone Sifa, it's a fairly dedicated term, and Vergil wouldn’t just call you that if he didn’t mean it.” 

“Sifa”

Out of nowhere you felt a calming presence holding you, protecting you from the brunt of the storm, but it still didn’t block out everything.  But it was so comforting, so you relaxed for just a moment.  That was a mistake, as your bloody fingertips slipped off the rock, and you began sliding into the churning waters below.

“SIFA!”

You awoke, gasping for air, hands gripping on nothing before you realized it had just been a nightmare, no doubt caused by the day’s events.  You must have dozed off to Vergil’s singing, right there on the platform.  Speaking of which… the only thing that remained of the dream was the sensation of being held…. 

Clammy webbed hands held you, ever so gently, around your waist, and spreading wetness was at your back.  Usually, you’d find the coldness to be unpleasant, but instead, it felt… comforting. A stream of unintelligible soft words were being murmured into the back of your neck. “Vergil?” you hesitatingly asked.

“A nightmare, nothing more, Mira Sifa.” you felt his breath still momentarily, “it was the only way I could think of to calm you down, I will go, if you desire…”

What you SHOULD have done was to thank him graciously, but then get up, wish him goodnight and plod off to much needed sleep.  You SHOULD not encourage these feelings you had for him, nor his for you.  You SHOULD not endanger the new chapter of your life that was about to begin. But tonight….tonight, SHOULDS could go to hell.  Tonight, you would be selfish, and you snuggled into his arms, earning a soft intake of breath as he continued to hold you, to softly sing you back into sleep, into dreams as calm as the waters beside you.

Ah, Mira Sifa, Mira Sifa…..

Winik fa pishim lin’more?