#you made a deal and now it seems you have to offer up! /lyr

[uniquezombiedestiny]

I look around, but I can't find you (raise it up) If only I could see your face (raise it up) Instead of rushing towards the skyline (raise it up) I wish that I could just be brave

(artfight attack for @simikae again <3 ft. archer!)

[live-the-fangirl-life]

The One After Rowan Says Aelin

The Court - Throne of Glass x FRIENDS - Fic Series

S5, E1 : The court deals with the aftermath of a catastrophic slip-up.

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Sex

7038 words

*******

“Repeat after me,” instructed the minister, standing before the bride and groom. “I, Rowan…”

“I, Rowan,” the silver-haired man repeated.

“Take thee, Lyria…”

“Take thee, Aelin…”

Shocked gasps spread through the chapel as it took Rowan a moment to realize his mistake. Eyes flying wide, he gripped Lyria’s hand tighter who was staring at him in disbelief.

“Lyria. Lyria.” Rowan emphasized with a forced chuckle.

Stunned, the minister leaned toward Lyria before asking hesitantly, “Shall I go on?”

From her seat a few aisles back, Aelin gaped as she listened to Rowan. He said her name. Her name.

It had to mean something, right? A groom doesn’t just same the wrong name during his wedding for no reason, right? Did he still want her? Love her? Like she loved him?

“He,” Aelin stuttered, leaning forward to whispering the ear of the woman sitting in front of her, “he said Aelin, right? Do you think I should go up there?” The woman didn’t pay her any attention, focused on the scene at the head of the chapel.

The minister was still waiting on Lyria to respond as she tried not to meet the eyes of people looking on with surprise and pity.

“Yes, yes, do go on.” She decided, forcing a calm expression over her humiliation and anger.

The minister nodded and announced, “I think we’d better start again. Rowan, repeat after me. I, Rowan…”

Rowan cleared his throat and said, “I, Rowan,”

“Take thee, Ly-ri-a” the minister dragged out the woman’s name as if speaking to a child.

Rowan shot an exasperated glare at the officiant but looked down at the brunette and repeated, “Take thee, Lyria.” She glared at him and forced another chuckle from his lips as he turned towards the guests and joked, “Like there’d be anybody else.”

Even Aelin cringed at the horrible attempt at humor, but it was no match for the way Lyria was glaring daggers at him.

“As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.” The minister continued.

“As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, until death parts us.” Rowan leaned in closer, “Really, I do. Lyria.”

People were still muttering as the minister asked for the rings.

“Lyria, place this ring on Rowan’s finger as a symbol of your bond everlasting.”

Rowan flinched as she jammed the ring forcefully onto his finger.

“Rowan, place this ring in Lyria’s hand as a symbol of the love that encircles you forever.”

“Happy to.” He chirped and gave her the ring.

Aelin, and everyone else, watched what seemed to be a train wreck unfolding as the minister declared, “Rowan and Lyria have made their declarations and it gives me great pleasure to declare them husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

People visibly winced as Rowan bent to kiss Lyria and she turned away from him only allowing him to brush his lips against her cheek. She escaped down the aisle, refusing to grab Rowan’s outstretched hand.

Aelin thought she heard Lyria mutter Just keep smiling to Rowan as they passed by.

Fenrys was standing next to Lorcan near the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. He nudged the taller man in the ribs and quipped, “Well, that went well.”

Lorcan glared down at the blond and rolled his eyes, “It could’ve been worse,” he suggested sarcastically, “he could’ve stabbed her.”

***

Aelin stood with Elide, Lorcan, and Fenrys in the lobby of the reception hall as they watched Rowan try to coax Lyria out of the bathroom she’d locked herself in. They could hear her shouting at him through the door.

“You’ve ruined everything!” she called out, furiously, “This is a nightmare! My friends and family are out there! How can I face them? How can you do this me?”

The group cringed as other guests look toward the scene.

Fenrys watched them a moment before asking, “No matter what happens with Rowan and Lyria, we still get cake right?”

Lorcan snorted as Rowan tried to open the door again, “All right Lyr, you take your time sweetie. I’ll be right out here.” He plastered a fake cheerful smile on as he noticed his friends watching him with pity, “She just fixing her makeup.”

“I hate you!” Lyria screamed through the door.

“And, I love you!” he called.

Rowan walked back towards his friends. Fenrys, trying to lighten the mood, teased “Man, bad time to say the wrong name, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows even as Rowan fixed him with an incredulous glare.

“Thanks, Fen,” Rowan muttered as he clipped Fenrys on the back of the head. Then Rowan sighed and looked around at the depressing reception hall and tried to put on a happy face that came across as more of a grimace. “People should be dancing; this is a party!” Rowan whirled back towards Fenrys and urged, “Come on Fen, dance!”

Fenrys looked around at the empty dancefloor and his friends waiting patiently as he tried to dance in the music-less space for a moment before giving up and walking away.

***

Across the room, Lyria’s mother answered her ringing phone.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“Uh, hello, this is Rowan Whitethorn’s personal physician, Dr. Shifter.”

In New York, Lysandra cringed at the obviously fake accent she was attempting but pushed forward. After making Fenrys keep his phone on during the wedding ceremony and hearing Rowan’s horrible fumble, she was trying to help them fix the situation. To her and Aedion’s disappointment, they couldn’t attend the wedding due to Lysandra’s pregnancy; she was due any day now and was instructed not to fly. So, she’d have to help with damage control from across the pond.

“Who?” the older woman asked.

“Yes,” Lysandra insisted, deepening the ridiculous accent, “I’ve discovered Rowan forgot to take his…” she trailed off and Aedion prompted brain medicine, “brain medicine.” She winced at how horrible of an excuse that was, “uh, now without it, uh, in the brain of Rowan, uh women’s names are interchangeable, through…through no fault of his own.”

Lyria’s mother sighed, exasperated, “Oh my Gods, Lysandra.”

Lysandra winced again, her fake accent was as horrible as she thought.

“No, not Lysandra, Dr. Shifter.” Lysandra insisted and then exclaimed, “Oh no! You have it, too!”

The next thing Lysandra heard was the dial tone as the woman hung up.

***

Elide stood by the buffet table, filling her plate when she felt Lorcan come up next to her.

“Hey,” He said in a low voice.

She glanced up at him to find him already looking at her, “Hi.”

He looked apologetic, almost nervous, in a way he normally wasn’t, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow, uh, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but, I know we had plans to meet up tonight and,” he stumbled over his words again as they both flashed back to the night before.

Lorcan opened the door to his hotel room to see Elide standing there.

“Hey, El, what’s up?” he stepped aside to let her in. Lorcan watched as she looked around the room, identical to her own, he was sure, and turn to face him.

He blamed it on the jetlag and the craziness of the day, but he couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. She was beautiful, and intelligent, and funny. She was also one of his best friends. Normally, he pushed down any feelings that weren’t ‘best friend’ feelings—feelings that made him want to throw caution to the wind and kiss her.

“Hey,” she said, looking at him through her lashes. “Is Fenrys here?”

Lorcan shook his head and saw relief flash across her face as he said, “Last time I saw him, he was heading out the door with that one bride’s maid and a bucket of strawberries.”

Elide raised a brow and snorted. “Sounds about right.”

He hummed in agreement, “You okay? You’re not still thinking about what that idiot told you, are you?”

That idiot being the stumbling, drunk man who’d bumped into Elide, spilled half his drink on her, looked at her and then her dress that she adored, and declared the stain an improvement, before walking away and leaving her to replay the insult in her head.

She snorted again, but it lacked any amusement. “What? You mean the jibe about how I looked better covered in scotch?” she sighed and looked away, “Whatever. I was obviously wrong about this dress.”

She looked down, but he grunted his disagreement, making her glance back up.

“What?” She questioned, confused at the look he was giving her.

“Ignore him,” Lorcan insisted, “I mean, you were the most beautiful person in the room tonight.” He told her, immediately wishing he hadn’t said that because that didn’t sound like a ‘best friend’ feeling.

But, instead of looking at him weirdly, she stepped closer and her eyes were…hopeful?

“Really?”

He cleared his throat but closed the distance between them, “Are you kidding? You’re the most beautiful woman in most rooms.”

Elide surged forward and kissed him.

It was perfect, it was Elide, it was—

“Whoa,” Lorcan pulled back and stared at her in disbelief, “What’s going on? You and I just kissed! You and I are kissing?” his brain couldn’t catch up.

“Well, not anymore.” She mumbled.

He searched her face, “How drunk are you?”

She offered him a smile, “Drunk enough to know that I want to do this. Not so drunk that you should feel guilty about taking advantage.”

Even through her quip, he could see the sincerity, and something else, something he couldn’t pinpoint, in her eyes.

“That’s the perfect amount!”

Then their lips connected again, and hands were moving, and suddenly they were on the bed.

Elide leaned back and Lorcan hovered over her as she broke away and said, “You know what’s weird?”

“What?” Lorcan trailed kisses down her neck and she shivered.

“This doesn’t feel weird.” She breathed.

He removed his mouth from her skin and looked into her face. She was right, this didn’t feel weird. It felt right.

Grinning, they both leaned back in and enjoyed a very satisfying night.

The next morning, Elide woke up in a hotel room with a large, warm body pressed against her. She smiled, thinking about what she and Lorcan did. And did. And did. Turning in his arms, she found he was already awake and watching her.

“Good morning” she yawned

He smirked, “G’morning.”

They spent who-knows-how-long lazily kissing until a loud knock sounded at the door.

Panicking, Elide’s wide eyes met Lorcan’s and she ducked beneath the covers just as Rowan barged into the room.

“I’m getting married today!” she heard from her position tucked into Lorcan’s side, the blankets soon becoming suffocating.

Lorcan’s hand snuck under the cover to rest in her hair as he slumped down in the bed, trying to make it less obvious that Elide was there. “Morning, Whitethorn.”

Elide heard Rowan close the door as he left and she popped back up, her hair in complete disarray, as she glanced at a now smirking Lorcan “Do you think he knew I was here?”

She’d left to get ready for the ceremony soon after that. Just before she needed to get to her seat, Lorcan casually found her and pulled her aside. Clearing this throat, he said, “What we did last night was...” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Stupid.” She offered.

“Totally stupid.” He agreed, nodding.

“What were we thinking?” She asked, fixing the sleeve of her dress.

They lapsed into silence a moment, neither looking at the other, before Lorcan asked, “I’m coming over tonight though, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Elide confirmed and subtly winked as she walked to her seat.

Lorcan kept talking, drawing them both back into the present, “I’m kind of worried about what it might do to our friendship.”

Elide sighed, “I know,” She glanced around and asked him worriedly, “How could we have let this happen?”

She didn’t regret the previous night, if anything, it was the fact that she didn’t regret it that alarmed her. She valued her friendship with Lorcan so much and hoped that whatever this was didn’t mess that up. Even though they both seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, a fact she was reminded of as he added, “Seven times.”

She allowed a smirk and she saw it mirrored on his own mouth.

“Well, you know, we were away…” She tried to justify.

Lorcan nodded eagerly, “In a foreign, romantic country…”

Elide hummed in agreement, “I blame London.”

“London,” Lorcan grunted disapprovingly.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Elide said, “So um, while we’re still in London,” Elide watched as Lorcan raised a brow, waiting for her to continue, “I mean, we can keep doing it right?”

Lorcan suppressed a grin. “Well, I don’t see that we have a choice. But, when we’re back home, we don’t do it.”

Elide nodded, though part of her didn’t want to think that far ahead, “Only here.”

Lorcan stepped closer to her, towering over her shorter frame, “You know, I saw a wine cellar downstairs—”

“I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”

Elide didn’t miss the wide smirk he flashed her before he disappeared around the corner.

She counted to one hundred and was just about to follow Lorcan out when Aelin rushed up to her side.

“El, I have to ask you something,” Aelin said desperately.

As much as Elide loved Aelin and wanted to help her, she knew Lorcan would be in the wine cellar now waiting for her to join him.

“Now?”

Aelin didn’t catch the impatience in Elide’s question. “El, Rowan said my name up there. I mean, come on, I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen, can I?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” This was definitely a conversation she wished they were having any other time.

Aelin urged Elide for advice, “Elide, what should I do?”

“Just, uh, do the right thing.”

“What?” Aelin asked, clearly upset Elide wasn’t giving her her full attention.

Normally, Elide would be offering advice and suggestions, making sure Aelin didn’t do something too insane, but at the moment she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to the night before and the feel of Lorcan’s hands on her, as she babbled, “Toe the line, thread the needle, Think outside the box!”

Elide tried slipping away but Aelin stopped her again, “Whoa, wait,” Aelin sighed, “I think I’m just going to talk to Rowan about what he thinks it meant.”

Elide halted and turned back towards her friend. “Aelin, wait” the blonde met her eyes, and Elide said regretfully, “No, he’s married. Married. If you don’t realize that, I can’t help you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and nodded, “Okay, you’re right,” as Aelin opened her eyes Elide offered a small, sad smile. Her smile dropped as Aelin whipped around and finished, “You’re right, you can’t help me.”

Elide rolled her eyes but finally left to find the wine cellar. She wandered for a little while before she found the cellar, but no Lorcan.

Making her way back to the reception hall, she saw him back at the refreshment table.

“Where were you?” she hissed, “We were supposed to meet in the cellar.”

“Forget it, that’s off.” He told her under his breath.

“Why?” Elide asked incredulously

Almost as if he heard her question, Lyria’s very drunk father wandered into the hall and slurred loudly, “The next tour of the wine cellar will plan in two…in two minutes.”

Elide cringed and shared a nod with Lorcan as Fenrys walked up to them with a large steak on his plate.

“Fen,” Elide demanded, “what are you doing? You promised Lysandra you wouldn’t eat meat until she had the baby!”

Lysandra, ever the animal lover, had been a vegetarian for as long as Elide had known the woman. To Lysandra’s horror, one of her pregnancy cravings was meat, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t help but give in. After an almost meltdown, Fenrys offered to abstain from eating meat for the duration of her pregnancy so that she could and, as Lysandra’s argument, no additional animals would be harmed. When Elide tried to question why Fenrys was doing this and not, say, Aedion, Aedion cut her off before Lysandra could hear the suggestion.

Fenrys looked between Elide and his steak, “Well, I figured we’re in another country, so it doesn’t count.”

Elide met Lorcan’s eyes and they shared a secret grin

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“The man’s got a point,” Lorcan agreed.

***

Aelin found Rowan hovering outside the bathroom door.

“Hey,” she said gently.

He startled but offered her a small, strained smile, “Hi.”

“Sorry things aren’t working out so well.” Aelin winced, unable to think of anything better to say.

Rowan shook his head and forced a laugh, “Oh no! It could be better,” he nodded and then looked towards her anxiously and asked, “but’s going to be okay, right?”

Aelin hated this. She hated having to stand here with the man she was desperately in love with and reassure him that his marriage to another woman would be alright. And as much as she honestly doubted it—because what woman wants to hear her fiancé say another woman’s name at the alter—Rowan was first, and foremost, her friend.

“Oh yeah!” She said as cheerfully as she could manage, “Of course, I mean, she’d gonna get over this, you know?” Aelin hoped not but refrained from saying that given Rowan’s dejected face. “I mean, so you said my name, you probably just said it because you saw me there. If you’d have seen a hawk in the window, you would’ve said, ‘I take thee, hawk.’

She internally cringed but Rowan nodded, reassuring himself.

Aelin went on, “You know it didn’t mean anything, it was just a mistake.” She pressed closer and allowed a sliver of hope to show in her eyes as she asked again, hoping he would disagree with her, “It didn’t mean anything, right?”

After a second’s hesitation that she may have just imagined, Rowan’s brows furrowed and he insisted, “No! No, of course, it didn’t mean anything.” He glanced towards the door then back to Aelin. “I mean, I can understand why Lyria would think it meant something, you know, because…because it’s you…” he trailed off and Aelin briefly saw highlights of their relationship flash before her eyes.

The museum dates, the love confessions, the times with their friends. She saw them break apart and mend back together. She saw a new friendship bloom, and her own feelings of love resurface even as he found happiness somewhere else.

She cleared her throat, bringing herself back to the moment, “Right.”

Stepping closer to the closed door, Rowan yelled “It didn’t! It didn’t mean anything!”

Aelin was prevented from saying something stupid as Fenrys approached and told Rowan, “Rowan, hey man, the band’s ready outside for your first dance with Lyria,” Fen trailed off as Rowan glared at him.

“Oh, oh, the band’s ready?” Rowan asked with fake interest. “Well, I—we have to do what the band says,” he whirled on Fenrys and shouted, “I don’t care about the stupid band!”

Fenrys shot Rowan an annoyed glace and wiped his face, “You spit on me, man.”

Rowan muttered a sorry before Fenrys asked, “Lyria is kind of taking a long time, huh?”

A memory surfaced in Aelin’s mind and she laughed, “You know, when I locked myself in the bathroom at my wedding,” she paused as the horrid image of Arobynn appeared but faded away as she looked back at Rowan, “it was because I was trying to pop the window out of its frame.”

The guys chuckled at the thought of Aelin maneuvering an outrageous wedding dress through a window.

“Had to get the hell out of there, you know?” she chuckled, too, before all three of them abruptly stopped and whipped their heads around to the bathroom door.

Oh shit.

“Lyria!” Rowan banged on the door, “Lyria, I’m coming in.”

Rowan threw the door open and he, Fenrys, and Aelin took in the empty bathroom, open window, and curtain flying in the wind.

“Well, look at that,” Aelin observed, “same thing.”

***

Elide and Lorcan escaped the reception hall amidst the chaos of a missing Lyria. They hastily made it to Elide’s room, hands clasped the entire way as Lorcan pulled her down the hall.

Laughing, she opened the door, fully ready to haul Lorcan towards the bed, but froze as she caught sight of Aelin sitting on her bed.

“Oh my Gods, Aelin! Hi.” Elide yelped, feeling Lorcan stumble into her as he froze, too.

He cleared his throat, “Oh, hey Aelin.” The fake calm tone he used to mask his irritation sounded too high for his ears, enough so that Aelin raised a brow at him before shaking her head and dismissing him.

Aelin didn’t wait for either of them to say another word as she exclaimed, “Rowan said my name. Okay?” She moved to sit on the edge of the bed with a slightly frantic look in her eye. “My name. Rowan said my name up there, that obviously means that he still loves me!”

Aelin looked back and forth between Elide and Lorcan desperately hoping one of them would validate what she said, but they stared at her in silence. She rolled her eyes and huffed a breath, “Fine, don’t believe me. I know I’m right.” She pointed a finger at the pair before running a hand through her hair, “Do you guys want to go downstairs and get a drink?”

At her inquisitive stare Lorcan said, “Yes, we do,” and as Elide shot him a look, he added, “But, we have to change first.”

Elide nodded vigorously, “Yes, I want to change. Why don’t you go down and get us a table?”

Aelin looked at her weirdly, but nodded as Elide told her, “We’ll be down in ten minutes.”

Lorcan subtly squeezed her shoulders and corrected, “twenty minutes.”

Lorcan didn’t miss the quick, approving look Elide shot him, or the subtle wink that Aelin was too preoccupied to notice.

The blonde hummed in agreement and grabbed her bag, “Okay, sure.”

Just as Aelin was about to leave, the phone at the bedside table started ringing. Answering, she asked, “Hello?”

Lorcan stifled an irritated groan.

“Oh Lys!” Aelin faced Elide and Lorcan as she settled down into the bed, “It’s Lysandra.”

“Great,” Elide mumbled and forced a smile as Lorcan didn’t hold back his next annoyed grunt.

Ignoring Aelin’s conversation and taking advantage of her distraction, Lorcan leaned down to say into Elide’s ear, “Hey, why don’t we go change in my room?”

She turned towards him with her brows furrowed, “But my clothes are—” her brows shot up as she caught the dark gleam in his eye, “Oh.”

At her answering smirk, he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.

***

Once Lorcan made sure Fenrys wasn’t in their shared room, he pulled Elide inside and locked the door.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her towards him as her hand found its place in the collar of his shirt before wrapping around his neck and pulling him for a searing kiss.

Lorcan wound a hand in her hair and pulled back enough to look at her in her dress, “El, you look—”

She smirked, but said, “No time for that,” and went back to trying to get his shirt off. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies hungrily until a loud knock sounded at the door.

They pulled away as Fenrys’ voice called out, “Hey, dude,” Lorcan closed his eyes and released a slow breath, trying to reign in his fraying temper, “let me in. I’ve got a girl out here!”

Lorcan swore as he heard giggling from the hallway, and glanced at Elide whose hair was now fluffed from where his hands had run through it, and her dress that was scrunched at her hip.

“Well, I’ve got a girl in here.”

Fenrys scoffed, “No you don’t, I just saw you go in there with Elide.”

Elide huffed and Lorcan said through gritted teeth, “Well, we’re…we’re hanging out in here.”

“Look,” Fenrys insisted again, “Which one of us is gonna be having sex in there, me or you?”

It took all of Lorcan’s willpower not to reach through the door at throttle Fenrys as he growled menacingly, “I guess I’d have to say you.”

***

Realizing that neither of their rooms were going to grant them any privacy, Elide and Lorcan went to the one place they knew wouldn’t be occupied tonight.

The honeymoon suite.

“Do you really think this is okay?” Elide asked. As much as she wanted to rip Lorcan’s clothes off and climb on top of him, she suddenly felt guilty about using Rowan and Lyria’s suite. Not that they would be using it.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lorcan muttered, “Well, Rowan and Lyria aren’t gonna use it.”

“I know, I just—” she bit her lip and looked around, “I don’t know if I feel right about this.”

Lorcan stopped trying to remove the excruciating number of throw pillows and walked towards elide. “El, El, El,” he murmured, grabbing her face in his hands, “this is the honeymoon suite.”

“Exactly.” She retorted.

He rolled his eyes, “This room expects sex.” He chuckled at her raised brow but said, “The room would be disappointed if it didn’t get sex. All of the other honeymoon suites would think it was a loser.”

She snorted, “You’re an idiot.” The insult did have any of her usually bite.

He grinned, “Maybe, but I’m an idiot you want to fuck. And now we have an unoccupied room.”

Elide rolled her eyes but grinned back, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They’d just reached the bed when the door flew open and Lorcan barely contained a long string of curses.

“Lyria?” Rowan called, his eyes scanning the room.

Elide shot Lorcan a look and asked Rowan, “You haven’t found her?”

Rowan groaned, “No, I’ve looked everywhere!”

Lorcan, very helpfully, responded, “Well, you couldn’t have looked everywhere or else you would’ve found her!”

Elide almost pitied Lorcan for being on the end of Rowan’s glare.

“I think you should keep looking,” she suggested, drawing Rowan’s attention back.

“Yeah,” Lorcan nodded, “for about thirty minutes.”

“Or forty-five,” she quickly suggested.

Lorcan’s eyes flashed to hers and a wicked gleam shown there as he said to Rowan, without taking his eyes off her, “in forty-five minutes you could find her a few times.”

Elide grinned but quickly schooled her features as Rowan turned back in her direction.

“No,” Rowan insisted, sitting down heavily on the bed, “For all I know, she’s trying to find me but couldn’t because I kept moving around. No, from now on, I’m staying in one place. Right here.”

Elide nodded, “Well, it’s getting late.” She shot a look at Lorcan and he quickly followed her to the door.

“Yeah,” he added, “we’re gonna go.”

“Actually, do you guys mind staying here for a while?” Rowan asked, looking pitiful and so unlike his usual self.

“We have to get up early and catch that plane for New York,” Lorcan argued.

Rowan sighed, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Elide stared at Rowan a moment and had an internal battle with herself. Should she be a good friend and support Rowan when he’s upset and hurting…or should she escape and have the best sex of her life.

Groaning at her apparent conscious, she glanced at Lorcan and tried to convey that they weren’t about to skip out now. He sighed heavily but nodded almost imperceptibly.

“But,” he said through gritted teeth, “we’ll stay here with you.”

Rowan visibly brightened. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this.”

***

They stayed like that for hours, Rowan eventually falling asleep across both Lorcan and Elide, keeping them in place and awake despite their exhaustion, desire, and exasperation.

Lorcan groaned and dragged a hand down his face, “We have to leave for New York in an hour.”

Elide sighed, “I know,” she glanced at Lorcan and then at the doors to the suite. “I’ve been eyeing those doors; they look pretty soundproof, don’t you think?” she asked hopefully.

Lorcan winced, “We can’t do that that’s insane. I mean ‘A’ he could wake up,” his eyes flicked down to Rowan who was totally passed out, then back to her, “and ‘B’ you know, let’s go for it.”

She grinned and they both tried to carefully remove themselves from Rowan until a knock pounded and Rowan shot up and stumbled off them.

“Lyr? Lyria?” He asked, still half asleep, “Lyria?” Rowan ran out of the room and through the suite to fling the door open. It wasn’t Lyria, just her parents.

Her mother leveled a look at Rowan, “No, You can forget about Lyria, she’s not with us. We’ve come to get her things”

“Wait,” Rowan stammered, “where—where is she?”

“She in hiding,” her father answered, “She’s utterly humiliated. She doesn’t want to see you ever again.”

“Hey, you guys, check this out, a whole cart was just left—" Aelin sauntered in with tiny bottles of hair products in her hands but froze as she looked between Rowan, Lyria’s parents, Elide, and Lorcan.

“Goodbye, Whitethorn.” Lyria’s father said

“Hold on!” Rowan insisted, stopping the parents from leaving, “Look, your daughter and I are supposed to leave tonight for our honeymoon, now you,” he took another breath, “you tell her that I’m gonna be at that airport and I hope that she’ll be there too.”

Rowan ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making the ends stick up, and explained, “Yeah, I said Aelin’s name, but it didn’t mean anything, okay?”

Aelin tried her best not to let her shattering heart show on her face as she slumped into a seat at the back of the room.

He continued, “She’s just a friend and that’s all!”

She knew Rowan wasn’t trying to hurt her, Hellas, he had no idea that she was still in love with him—he was just trying to get his wife back. Gods. His wife. How could Aelin be so stupid?

She felt Elide and Lorcan sink into the chairs next to her and Elide’s subtle, comforting hand on her back.

“She’s just afraid,” Rowan kept saying, “Now just tell Lyria that I love her and that I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Please, promise me that you’ll tell her that.”

Aelin blocked out any other conversation.

***

Elide was tired. She was exhausted from staying up all night having to deal with distressed grooms, interrupting friends, and runaway brides—if she was being honest, Elide wasn’t all that upset over the last one. She kind of hated that Rowan married Lyria, she’d never gotten a good vibe from the woman, not to mention everything that was still between Rowan and Aelin…

Sitting next to Lorcan on their flight home, she leaned in close to rest her shoulder against his arm and smiled a bit as he turned towards her.

“You know,” she said, “maybe it’s best that we never got to do it again.”

He made a noise of agreement even if she could’ve sworn she saw disappointment in his eyes.

“Yeah, it makes that one ti—night special, I guess” He almost said time but corrected himself because they did it way more times than just fucking once. A smirk played at his lips as realized, “Technically, El, we are still over international waters.”

Her eyes lit up and she grinned as she maneuvered out of her seat and told him, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, maybe I’ll see you there?” She asked coyly. Elide had taken half a step before turning back with a worried glance at him, “Airplane bathrooms are tiny, are you going to fit?”

Lorcan leaned back and smirked fully, “I’ll fit.”

She scoffed at the way his eyes darkened—it was obvious he wasn’t talking about the bathroom—but walked back there anyway.

He leaned over to watch her walk away and caught her sly wink as she slipped into the bathroom, before facing forward and coming face to face with Fenrys who’d taken Elide’s seat the moment she was gone.

“Gods,” Lorcan jumped, “what?”

“Can I ask you something?” Fenrys asked, oblivious to the growing anger emanating for Lorcan at another instance of being interrupted from his time with Elide.

“No,” Lorcan grunted and was about to get up when Fenrys grabbed his arm and dove into a conversation that Lorcan entirely blocked out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there desperately wanting to meet Elide but being trapped in a mindless one-sided conversation, his only reprieve being the small liquor bottles he’d charged to Fenrys’ ticket.

Fenrys suddenly stopped talking as he glanced over Lorcan’s shoulder. Turning, Lorcan winced as he met the livid eyes of Elide

“Elide,” Fenrys commented, “wow, you’ve been in the bathroom for like a half-hour.”

Elide’s eyes narrowed further and Lorcan tried to look apologetic as she bit out, “I. Know.”

***

When Elide, Lorcan, and Fenrys arrived back at their building Lysandra and Aedion were waiting for them in Elide’s apartment.

After the hellos and hugs, Lysandra stepped back and narrowed her at Fenrys.

“You ate meat!” She accused.

Then she turned towards Lorcan and Elide who watched her with wide eyes, “You had sex!”

They sputtered, “No we didn’t!”

Lysandra scoffed at Lorcan, “I know you didn’t, you have the personality of a shoe, who would want to hook up with you?” She gestured at Elide, “I was talking about Elide.”

Elide forced a laugh, “What? Lysandra, I did not have sex.” Elide brushed off the claim as Aedion gave her a funny look.

Lysandra shook her head and sighed, “This pregnancy is throwing me all off.”

Lysandra and Aedion said their goodbyes, and then Fenrys walked across the hall to his own apartment, leaving Lorcan and Elide standing in Elide’s kitchen.

“Well, we certainly are alone.” Elide said, unnecessarily.

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, uh, good thing we have that, ‘Not in New York’ rule.”

She hummed noncommittally.

“Listen, I uh,” Elide tried to put her scrambling thoughts into words, “I just—that night meant a lot to me, I guess I’m just trying to say thanks.”

Lorcan cleared his throat and stepped closer to her, “Oh, yeah, you know,” She looked up as he stumbled over his words, “that night meant a lot to me too.”

They stared at each other for another long moment before Lorcan nodded at the door and said, “All right, I gotta go unpack.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” She watched him leave and waited to hear the door across the hall open, but the click of the door handle never came.

Lorcan stalked back in and slammed her door behind him.

“I’m still on London time, does that count?” He asked wildly

Elide was already flinging herself at him, “That counts!”

Then she wrapped her legs around his hips as he lifted her and carried her into her bedroom.

***

Aelin was making another lap around the airport, hoping to hear some updates about her flight. In her mad dash to show up at Rowan and Lyria’s wedding, she had bought the first ticket she could to London and hadn’t worried about her return flight. She didn’t think it would be such a struggle to fly home.

“Aelin!” A deep, familiar voice called out.

She stopped and turned to see Rowan sitting alone in an almost deserted waiting area.

“Rowan, hi.”

He stood up and met her halfway, his face scrunched in confusion “What are you, uh what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well,” she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and flashed him a smile, “I’ve been on standby for a flight home for hours. I’ve become very familiar with the airline staff.”

He nodded

“So,” she glanced around, “no sign of Lyria, huh?

“Not yet.” Rowan shook his head.

“What time are you supposed to leave?”

As if on cue, the speakers crackled as an announcement called, “This is the last call for Flight 1066 to Athens. The last call.”

Rowan made a face and answered her, “Pretty soon I guess.”

Despite her feelings about Lyria, the very last thing Aelin wanted was to see Rowan so dejected and heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” she said as gently as she could.

He sighed and sat back down as Aelin took the seat across from him

“I just, I don’t understand,” He scrubbed his face with his hands, “I mean, how can she do this? You know, am I… am I like a complete idiot for thinking that she’d actually show up?”

“No, you’re not an idiot, Rowan. You’re a guy very much in love.” Aelin sighed.

He snorted, “Same difference”

She cracked a smile and he matched it.

The voice over the speaker rang out again, “All ticketed passengers for Flight 1066 to Athens should now be on board.”

“I get it!” Rowan snapped at the invisible voice, then sighed again, “Well, that’s that.”

Aelin couldn’t watch this anymore. “No, you know what, I think you should go.”

“What?”

His face snapped up and Aelin looked into his earnest, pine green eyes as she told him, “Yeah,” she nodded, “I think you should go, by yourself, get some distance, clear your head, I think it’d be really good.”

He looked skeptical but Aelin thought she saw an ounce of relief. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

He looked at the gate attendant still at the check-in desk and Aelin knew he wanted to.

“Come on Rowan, I think it would be really good for you,” She urged, hoping the trip would make him feel better and he would come back seeming more like himself—like the Rowan she knew.

He was nodding, trying to convince himself, “Yeah,” he eventually said, “I can do that.”

“Yeah!” Aelin agreed, trying to hype him up.

Rowan grabbed his bag and looked back at her, still frustrated, “I can’t even believe her,” he chanced another glance around the terminal as if Lyria would materialize in front of him, “No, you know what, I am, I’m going to go.”

“Good!”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Right!”

“Right.” Rowan took another step before turning to face her once more, “Thanks, Aelin.”

She smiled at him, glad that he was getting some of his happiness back that had abandoned him the previous day.

“Okay,” she said again and opened her arms to give him a hug he enthusiastically returned. “I’ll see you back at home if I ever get a flight out of here,” she huffed and began to turn away.

“Well...no, never mind.” Rowan shook his head, dismissing whatever he was about to say.

Aelin tilted her head, she scrunched her brows in confusion as he gave her a sheepish grin, “What?”

Rowan looked between her and the gate attendant, “Why don’t you come?” at her shocked silence he plowed on, “I—I have two tickets,” he waved them in front of him, still wearing that boyish smile she loved so much, “Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she trailed off. Aelin wanted nothing more than to say yes, but Rowan was offering her the second ticket on his honeymoon trip for gods’ sake. But as she kept looking into his hopeful face, she felt her resolve and guilt crumbling. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be great,” he insisted, handing her one of the tickets. “You can lay on the beach and read, and I can cry over my failed marriage,” he chuckled, “See? Already making jokes.” the smile he forced was more of a grimace.

“Rowan, I—”

“No, really,” Rowan stepped up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried not to lose focus as she felt his warmth sink into her. “Please, Aelin,” he said, looking more vulnerable than she’d seen him all weekend. “Gods, I could use a friend right now, and you’re one of the best.”

“Wow,” Aelin took a breath. She could accept. She could go to Greece with Rowan for a week and support him and enjoy herself. “Okay. Uh, yeah, yes! Yes, I can do that.”

“Really?” his smile widened and so did hers.

“Really.”

They walked to the gate attendant and handed her their tickets. After a disapproving glare for their timing, she opened the door and waved them through.

Rowan readjusted his bag and paused, “Oh, wait, I forgot my jacket. You go on, I’ll be right there.”

Aelin flashed him a happy smile and nodded, walking onto the plane.

Rowan quickly jogged back where he’d been sitting, picked up his jacket, straightened, and met the eyes of his runaway bride.

“Lyria.” he breathed.

She looked between him and the gate looking distraught and Rowan realized that she must have seen Aelin go onto the plane. His eyes flared, understanding that Lyria must have thought everything with he and Aelin had been intentional. And it wasn’t. It wasn’t...right?

She scoffed and made to turn away, but he stammered, “Oh no, no, no, no! No!, Lyria!” He frantically looked between Lyria’s retreating figure and the gate that Aelin had walked through to the plane where she was waiting for him.

Cursing every god he knew, he chased through the airport after his wife.

***

Aelin enjoyed first class. She didn’t fly it often, but when she really wanted to treat herself, she would. This flight was no different than she remembered. She settled into the seat, keeping the window spot open for Rowan, and ordered them both a drink from the flight attendant. She figured they could both use one after this insane weekend.

Glancing out the window, Aelin noticed that the airport appeared to be moving.

She jolted in her seat. The airport wasn’t moving. She was. The plane was.

The plane was leaving, and Rowan wasn’t on it.

“Oh, my Gods,” Aelin muttered in disbelief as she sat on a plane departing for what should’ve been Rowan and Lyria’s honeymoon. “Oh, my Gods.”

*****

Taglist:

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[anghraine]

“per ardua ad astra” - chapter eight

I’m also sure everyone is reading for Space Wikipedia.

last chapter:

“That’s what we were talking about,” added Zekheret. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear. Darth Vader is on the Death Star, right now. He captured the princess and brought her here.”

Efrah dismissed this with a wave of her hand. “Oh, that was hours ago. I’m sure he’s already questioned her.”

this chapter:

Princess Leia might be held elsewhere, and of course, they might be completely untrustworthy. But their information coincided with Bodhi’s, and certainly with the level of chaos around the princess. It seemed most probable by far that she was here, in this very quadrant.

Being tortured.

I can’t do anything about that, Jyn told herself, even her mental voice thin. I can’t do anything.

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven

The comlink went so utterly silent that Bodhi worried he’d lost the connection. Several seconds passed. Then:

“Yes,” Cassian said. “This is Captain Willix of robotic research and development. Identify yourself.”

His voice was subtly different than usual. A little in the accent, mostly in tone. Colder, Bodhi thought, yet not as cold as he could sometimes get.

“RK-1301,” he replied.

“RK?” said Cassian. Something that might be amusement bled through the altered voice. “Very well. State your purpose.”

“I had a message for Sergeant Lyr. I … er, I’m not sure what happened that it went to your com, instead.”

“This is hers.” Now he definitely seemed amused. “She appears to have forgotten it. What message?”

Bodhi’s brain caught up with his relief. The last time he talked to Jyn, Cassian had just woken up. She said he was coherent, but exhausted. He didn’t sound it—well, of course coherent, but also clear and strong and careful, not tired. Then again, he could probably sound like anything if he felt like it. And if he was still recovering, he shouldn’t hear bad news.

“Trooper?” Cassian prompted him.

“Uh,” he said. “I—I’m in the fresher. I don’t think anyone else is here.”

It was so bald a tangent that even Bodhi winced. And with Cassian, of all people? He remembered the sabacc games during their long hours in hyperspace; the only time they managed to drag Cassian into one, he’d crushed them all. Even Jyn, who cheated.

“That does not matter,” said Cassian, which genuinely startled him.

Bodhi blinked at his wrist. “It doesn’t? Are all transmissions …?”

“Unlikely,” Cassian said. “But if you constantly switch between one way of thinking and another, it is more difficult to hold to what you must be. Do you understand?”

Now he sounded like a cross between Bodhi’s strictest Academy instructor and his favourite uncle.

“Yes, sir.”

It made for a very strange cross, Bodhi decided. But Cassian seemed to fall into it naturally. This must be how he talked to his other recruits, his real ones.

Though it didn’t get much more real than this.

After another pause, Cassian said patiently, “Lyr’s message?”

“Oh … well, I …” He knew he was babbling. “Where is she?”

“The mess hall,” said Cassian. “I take it Lord Vader has arrived with his prisoners.”

Relief whipped through him. His knees might have buckled with it, had he been standing. As it was, Bodhi leaned against the nearest wall.

“That’s what they’re saying down here.” He gulped. “It’s Princess Leia and her crew. I don’t know if you heard—”

“I have,” Cassian replied. He didn’t sound dismayed. He didn’t sound anything, really. Somehow, that cold, even tone comforted him more than open sympathy could have. “Are you familiar with Lord Vader?”

“I don’t think anyone is,” said Bodhi. “I know about him. In a general way.”

“He is a Jedi,” Cassian said.

“What?” Bodhi’s mind flew back to Jedha, to the temple, the old stories. Chirrut and Baze, everything. “That’s … that’s illegal. Isn’t it?”

“Nothing is illegal for the Emperor’s agents,” Cassian told him. “Stay away from him. Do not take risks.”

Distantly, Bodhi felt his nails digging into his wrist. He was so useless, really. If not for Jyn, they’d all have died, or been imprisoned—he’d be questioned all over again, worse than Gerrera by far. But he had saved Jyn and Cassian, Bodhi reminded himself. All their brains and nerve wouldn’t have protected them if they’d been on the surface when the Death Star razed Scarif. He’d done his part in the mission and he’d saved them and … and even now, he could do something. He just didn’t know what.

It occurred to him that he might be making things too complicated. His sister always said that he did. Probably the veteran intelligence officer on the other end of the call would say the same thing.

Bodhi asked, “What should I do?”

He half-expected to hear nothing.

“Note everything that you can,” said Cassian. “Learn the routines, and pay attention to any changes. Listen to what the other troopers say, particularly those higher up the ranks, but remember that rumours are not always reliable.”

“Don’t get excited and don’t panic?” he said, his heart still thudding.

“Yes.” There was a pause, and then an odd sound, a sort of shallow hiss he wouldn’t have thought possible from Cassian.

“Is something wrong?”

“Ribs,” Cassian said succinctly. “Remember, also, that nothing is worth endangering your position. If you must choose between information and your safety, choose safety. Every time.”

That did not sound very much like him.

“Really?”

“We cannot achieve anything from the grave,” said Cassian. “For now, our work is to learn and to wait for opportunity.”

Okay, that sounded like him.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” said Bodhi.

“Good.” Cassian’s voice shifted again, to something that wasn’t so much Captain Willix or Captain Andor as the fellow prisoner in Gerrera’s cells. The man who’d freed him when he couldn’t do much more than gibber, and in a peculiar way, seemed teammate as much as leader afterwards. “Do not forget. Be careful.”

Despite the dread and fear that clung to him, for himself and the others, despite the memories of battle and the nightmare of the Death Star, the horror that nearly swallowed him when he had to leave Jyn and Cassian in Imperial hands, the one worn and the other bleeding to death—despite it all, Bodhi felt something like hope. And courage, too. He mustered up his nerve.

“You, too.”

Jyn thought she would finally be free once they left the mess hall. Instead, Efrah hesitated as they walked into the corridor, locking her hands behind her back.

“Have you been given any sort of orientation?” she asked.

“No,” said Jyn, already bracing herself. “Captain Willix went straight into bacta, and I’ve been dealing with requisitions and the doctors and—all of that. I don’t think he’s even been assigned a commander yet.”

Efrah said, “Can he walk?”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s the ribs. They’re broken and he had a punctured lung, so he’s on strict bed rest. It was all I could do to get him discharged to his quarters, last night.” Jyn saw another chance, and seized it. With her best attempt at a wry look, she said, “Perhaps you could tell me which hoop I should jump through next.”

“Certainly,” said Efrah. “In fact, I can show you. I have two hours until my next shift, and I’m in logistics.”

Jyn felt immediately suspicious. The great Imperial sisterhood, or—? But she couldn’t see an easy way to refuse, or a particular reason to do so.

“Thank you,” she said, her bare wrist itching. “I need to check on my captain before I leave the floor, though. We’re in F1813, but I’d be grateful,  unless that’s too much trouble.”

“F1813? That should be on the way,” said Efrah instantly.

Jyn, unsure whether she’d stumbled into a lucky break or a trap, just nodded. They walked the short distance—comparatively short distance—to Cassian’s quarters in near silence, for which Jyn could only feel grateful. She’d half-expected further interrogation. Then again, nobody talked much in the halls. Cassian hadn’t, either. Another regulation?

At the quarters, Efrah remained a few feet behind as Jyn typed in the code. Some other protocol, no doubt, but it might give her a moment to make sure Cassian didn’t give anything away. If he’d ever given anything away in his life.

When the door whooshed up, however, she found the room empty. Apart from its very cleanliness, it looked like Cassian had never been there at all. Jyn’s heart jolted.

“Captain?”

She didn’t hear anything, except Efrah moving towards her.

“Is there a problem, Lyr?”

A trap, Jyn thought wildly, yet when she turned around, Efrah betrayed nothing but bewilderment. Although she’d moved to the doorway, beside Jyn, she made no attempt to do anything but glance inside. Nothing like a formal inspection, but thank the Force for Cassian’s paranoia, anyway.

“It’s Captain Willix,” she said, only then remembering that she stood right where the door would normally crash down. Nothing happened. It must be some sort of sensor—but why the hell was she thinking about the wiring when ...

Cassian stalked into the room from the opposite direction. At the sight of them, he came to an immediate halt.

The fresher. Jyn almost laughed, all the more as his blank face somehow went blanker. She just remembered to salute.

“Captain.”

“Sir!” said Efrah, all but vibrating with deference.

Cassian’s glance flicked from Jyn, to Efrah, to Jyn. Nothing about his face changed at all, but that meant nothing. For all she knew, he might find the whole situation entertaining. Her eyes narrowed.

“At ease, sergeants,” he said, walking over to them. “Is there an emergency?”

“No, sir,” said Jyn. “Sergeant Efrah, here, offered to help us navigate the bureaucracy. If I have your leave, sir, I will go with her.”

“You do,” he said, without a trace of gratitude. Or anything.

“And if you are well enough to manage on your own,” she pressed.

Cassian’s brows lifted, his expression transforming in some indistinct way from neutral to haughty. “As you see.”

He did look better, in fact. His posture was straight as ever but less stiff, his complexion completely back to usual, his face devoid of the strain she’d already grown accustomed to. Some of it would be the analgesics, but—

“Yes, sir,” muttered Efrah. Though her manner remained as professional as ever, colour crept up her neck.

Jyn rested her hand against her pocket and prayed for patience.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

“Yes,” he said. “Either you or the quartermaster missed some basic necessities. I have placed a full list of what I require in your datapad. Take it to Requisitions and do not leave without a satisfactory affirmation.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “It will be hours before I return, in that case.”

“Very well,” said Cassian indifferently. He moved aside and gestured at her dresser. “Your datapad is that way, Lyr.”

While Jyn felt reasonably sure he was running at maximum Imperial bastard for Efrah’s sake—nothing she hadn’t done with Esten, really—she couldn’t escape a sense of annoyance as she walked past. She also couldn’t escape a sense that something else was going on.

Walking over to the dresser, she risked a glance over her shoulder. Cassian had moved back into place, standing in the middle of the doorway and saying something in a quiet voice. She couldn’t make out the words, but she recognized the warm, easy tone from the elevator. He probably had that horrible smile plastered on, too.

Turning past the bed to her dresser did improve her mood, however. The datapad itself looked exactly as she’d left it; she wouldn’t have known he’d touched it. But her comlink, which she knew she'd left on the bed, sat neatly beside the datapad. Jyn dared another look at the door—Cassian had stepped closer to Efrah, effectively blotting her out. He was still talking to her, saying something that provoked a low laugh.

Hastily, Jyn bound the comlink around her wrist, just visible under the sleeve. She didn’t know how peculiar it would seem for an Imperial soldier to forget basic equipment, but she didn’t feel like finding out.

Datapad in hand, she headed back.

“—must have been extremely difficult, sir.”

“Anything for the Empire,” said Cassian.

Jyn cleared her throat.

“Ah, Lyr.” He moved again. “I’ll expect you to take note of everything. We have a great deal to learn.”

“Yes, captain,” she said, striding past. “Make sure you rest.”

Both women saluted him, and headed out together, Jyn doing her best to keep the grinding of her teeth inaudible. Even with her near-certainty of the game—if this could at all be termed a game—her hands itched to punch something.

“Captain Willix said Rebels shot him in the attack,” said Efrah, sounding impressed. Evidently the hall regulations only applied to the other halls. Or not at all. Hell if she knew.

“Yes,” said Jyn. “He dropped right off the archives and down to one of the platforms. Hit a few beams on the way down.”

“So that’s why you spent the battle looking for him. I wondered.”

She hadn’t asked. And Jyn hadn’t seen any trace of curiosity—nothing to dilute her relief as Efrah appeared to accept the explanation and return her attention to Zekheret. More suspicious than ever, she gave a short nod.

“He’s my captain.”

Efrah cast a quick glance at her, unreadable except a very slight, very knowing smile.

“Well, now I can see why you’d stick around that deathtrap for your captain.”

“Oh?” Her fingers tingled. Puzzled for a moment, Jyn realized she was gripping her datapad so tightly that she’d cut off blood from her fingertips. She forced herself to relax her grip.

Very solemnly, Efrah said, “His cheekbones would be a great loss to the galaxy. You’re a true hero, Lyr.”

Jyn snorted. “Just doing my part for the Empire.”

She didn’t even look at the requisition list until Efrah had led her through a labyrinth of departments and officials and questionnaires. At every other turn, Jyn expected it all to turn into some complex trap. After all, Lyr had no data trail, beyond what little her errands had grafted onto Willix’s. If anyone started digging around, they’d turn up that dangerous nothing. But nobody seemed to care about Lyr at all, except as proxy for an officer.

Maybe it helped that the officer in question had been a triple agent. Or quadruple—she lost count somewhere in there.

At any rate, she emerged an hour and a half later with a commanding officer for Cassian and a sketchy map of their quadrant in her head. Once Efrah headed off to her shift, borderline-friendly as ever, Jyn prayed she hadn’t signed any inadvertent death warrants and headed back to Requisitions. This time, at least, the lines didn’t look so miserably long.

Still, she had an hour’s wait, two hours after she left Cassian. And before that, Efrah had said that it’d been hours since Princess Leia’s arrival. By now, she must have been questioned. No, Jyn thought. Tortured. No point in polishing it up. She might have cracked, given up the plans or the base or the whole damn Rebellion. She might have held firm, even against a Jedi—Cassian believed she had it in her, and he certainly wasn’t one to overestimate people. Or she might be dead. They didn’t know, and they had no way of knowing.

Jyn checked her comlink. Nothing from either Cassian or Bodhi. Though it wouldn’t be safe here, anyway. She sighed, nevertheless, and switched on her datapad.

A message flashed over the screen.

Comlink: 36050682961 If sensitive location, replace audio: 975 (clear), 615 (uncertain), 248 (emergency)

Jyn instantly programmed Cassian’s comlink code into her own com, fixing the other three into memory. Sure enough, the message vanished before she’d finished typing.

She suppressed a burst of sheer excitement. Enigmatic messages with secret codes were much more her idea of spying than gossiping with a boyish flirt and pretending to bond with an inscrutable sergeant. Or—not her idea of it, not at all, but an idea, like something from a good holodrama.

She knew it was silly. No doubt he’d have just told her the codes directly if she’d come back alone. Unless he had fallen asleep, which was … a very real possibility, in fact, and probably the reason he left the message in the first place. He couldn’t know who’d be around when she read it. It made perfect sense to be cryptic.

Still.

The childish pleasure lasted no more than a few moments. Jyn’s mind returned to Princess Leia, the flawed but dauntless spy locked somewhere in this place. Maybe near, maybe distant, but—no, it had to be near, didn’t it? If she could trust Efrah and Zekheret that far, his reassignment to the prison was part of a general reshuffling to increase security, on account of the new captives. Of course, Princess Leia might be held elsewhere, and of course, they might be completely untrustworthy. But their information coincided with Bodhi’s, and certainly with the level of chaos around the princess. It seemed most probable by far that she was here, in this very quadrant.

Being tortured.

I can’t do anything about that, Jyn told herself, even her mental voice thin. I can’t do anything.

She’d help if she could do something—she would, now. But with only a vague guess at a location and no way to escape, anything they might do would only throw away what little advantage they had. Best case, it’d get Jyn and Bodhi killed, and Cassian left to fend for himself when he could hardly walk.

The thought only twisted the knives in her chest further. Cassein Willix could be as much of an ass as he liked; if anything happened to Cassian Andor because she took a pointless risk, she’d … Jyn didn’t know what she’d do. But abandoning her team for something not just dangerous, but utterly futile, that would be more than stupid. It’d be wrong. Lyra, Saw, the Rebel leaders, they all ran through her mind. You had to look after your own in this galaxy. Cassian was hers—Cassian and Bodhi were. She’d led them here and she’d get them out, if there was any way to do it.

Jyn understood Leia Organa’s value, she heartily pitied her, but she couldn’t help her, and she wasn’t about to risk Cassian for her. She didn’t even know what the woman looked like. Hell, she didn’t know what Alderaan looked like.

She considered the line still winding ahead of her and then her datapad. Well, she could fix one of those.

Jyn swiped the screen to the standard database and typed out A L D E R A A N. Immediately, a long page of statistics and descriptions appeared on her pad, alongside a picture of a vast, icy mountain range, its jagged peaks beautiful and terrifying. That wouldn't be the whole planet, of course, but she remembered Cassian saying my world was white. As she shuffled forward in the line, Jyn touched the picture.

A data entry scrolled down. The Anduçelos Mountains, a large mountain range surrounding the planetary capital of Aldera.

Cassian’s home. It felt unreal.

She flipped back to the main entry. Most of it didn’t much interest her—a radius of some four thousand miles, high water content, plenty of nitrogen and oxygen, an average temperature on the cold end of temperate. Population of seven billion. Five thousand known languages. One of seven planets in the larger system, but the only one to independently support life, and home to the vast bulk of the system’s residents.

Without much better to do, she kept skimming downwards, examining the pictures that flickered along the sides as she went. All right, now she knew what Alderaan looked like. She could read something more interesting. Or … talk to someone.

Jyn paused, and stifled the impulse to glance over her shoulder and to her sides, make sure nobody watched her. It wouldn’t mean anything to them if they did, but she still felt hunted. Ignoring the feeling, she selected Districts.

The list that rolled down, Aldera to Zyxei, was longer than she expected. It didn’t matter; she almost immediately saw the only one she cared about, towards the end. Not that she expected much accuracy from an Imperial database, but you never knew.

Vaes District showed no images except a smaller picture of the mountains, focused enough for her to make out a grey and unattractive town nestled into a crag. Even the description told her little that she hadn’t guessed from Cassian, except that the district had no unified government, but instead operated as a loose confederacy of small, independent cities. Each city used a different dialect of standard Alderaanian; unlike the people in the capital beneath them, few Vaes residents spoke Basic at all. They had a subarctic climate, scarce resources beyond the deposits of ilum, et cetera et cetera. Still not interesting, but rather to her surprise, the official list of settlements did include a Vaesda.

She hesitated again, longer, but pressed down a last time.

The entry for Vaesda contained no pictures at all, no statistics, no descriptions. It consisted of three sentences:

Vaesda was one of the principal sources of ilum during the Clone Wars. His Imperial Highness the Emperor Palpatine, then Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, sent a company of clonetroopers to Vaesda in order to defend the city and the mines from Separatist sympathizers, but to no avail. Though the troopers bravely defended Vaesda, either Separatists or Vaesdi collaborators ignited the mines, and the resulting blast reduced the city to rubble.

Biting her tongue, Jyn closed out the entire database. She didn’t know what had actually happened, but she’d seen plenty of Imperial propaganda in her time. Separatists raiding remote cities on Alderaan? Right, when nerfs flew. But she didn’t imagine Imperial propagandists would take the trouble to concoct an entirely fictitious story for a brief databank entry on an obscure mining town. Anyway, Cassian had mentioned clonetroopers. No doubt Palpatine really did send them there. No doubt the place really had been wiped off the map.

And, she thought, no doubt this was what Cassian meant when he said he’d lost everything at six. He was twenty-six now, so twenty years ago. The year before the Empire. Something must have happened that year, something to do with Alderaan, but she had no idea what it was. She’d never paid much attention to Republic history; she couldn’t even remember the Republic.

Jyn’s thoughts swerved back to Princess Leia. Born into the Rebellion, she remembered Cassian saying. She hadn’t put it together at the time, but—exactly how old was Leia Organa? Even with her father as a founder, she couldn’t be much over … what, seventeen or eighteen? All their hopes rested in the strength of an adolescent girl?

Older than she was when Saw left, Jyn reminded herself, and stepped up to the front of the line.

The quartermaster glared at her, though less ferociously than he did at everyone else.

“You again,” he grunted.

“You’re good with faces,” she said, doing her best to strip any overt flattery from her voice. Bringing up Cassian’s list on the datapad, she handed it over and sighed. “My captain woke up.”

“Happens to the best of us,” said Brakas. He scanned the datapad. “Kit 2X97NE4? What the hell is that?”

“I have no idea,” Jyn told him, and winced. “Captain Willix just said that either you or I don’t understand basic necessities.”

“Fucking officers.”

Jyn gave him a look of intense sympathy. “He’s usually not this bad. I think it’s the bed rest getting to him.”

Brakas, typing into his tech station, muttered something she didn’t recognize. Then he said, “Ah. Droid repair tools. Fine, I’m running it through. What’s the ID?”

Droid repair—she almost grinned as she rattled off the code. Cassian must have found Kaytoo.

“Right. Willix, here he is.” Brakas slid something on the screen. “There, all in. He’ll have his supplies by morning.”

“Thank you,” she said emphatically.

“If you dare, tell him he can cheer up now,” he added.

Jyn, more at ease with the rough quartermaster than any of the others, scoffed outright. “What for? The supplies?”

“The Star’s on the move again. He’s going home.”

All restraint dried in her mouth. “He’s what?”

“You haven’t heard?” Brakas handed the datapad back to her. “We’re headed to Alderaan.”