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fireflyfish · 8 years

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Tano And Kenobi: The Senator From Naboo

Previously on Tano and Kenobi...

Now that she has been re-accepted into the Jedi Order and named a Jedi Knight, Ahsoka Tano has some work to do. Luckily a helpful Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn is there to point her in the right direction. Senior Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi has some training to make up for and a lesson in jar’kai waiting for him.

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Jar’kai was amazing.

Exhausting, but amazing!

Obi-Wan could not remember the last time his arms were so tired and sore after just an hour of lightsaber practice. He happily slumped his way back to the Initiate Dormitory, shedding his robes and boots before taking a long shower in the refresher when he got to his room. After an eternity of muscle-relaxing warm water, he got out, changed into a more comfortable set of robes, and headed back out for dinner.

He was so wrapped up in the happy memories of his lesson with Master Ahsoka that Obi-Wan paid little attention to the older Padawans who were whispering about how he didn’t have a master yet.

“I can’t believe he’s still here!”

“I would have left out of shame by now.”

“My master says no one will take him. They say he’s too emotional. That he might go dark.”

“I heard he tried to ask Master Sinube. Can you believe it? How desperate do you have to be to ask that old fart?”

Holding his head high, Obi-Wan nodded pleasantly to his fellow Jedi. He had a wicked retort on his tongue but he stilled it, knowing deep in his heart that Master Ahsoka would not approve. He was going to make her proud, to show her that he was worthy of her teachings and maybe, if he was lucky, being her padawan.

So that meant Obi-Wan would just have to bite his tongue and ignore the cold-hearted nexus he found himself in line with.

“Hey, Obi-Wan!” a voice called out through the dining hall, belonging to a dark-skinned Kiffar with a golden stripe across his nose.

Who was pushing his way through the dinner crowd and making a beeline towards Obi-Wan. “Thanks for saving me a spot in line.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I did no such thing, Quinlan. The end of the line is back there behind Padawan Rast.”

“You are such a goody-goody!” Quinlan groaned, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders and then pulling him into a headlock where he could give him some proper encouragement with his knuckles. “You were totally saving a spot for me, right?”

“Gah! Ow! Quin! That hurts!” Obi-Wan protested, smacking at his friend’s arm for release before he would have to employ more aggressive measures. “Let me go, you odiferous gundark!”

“Odiferous?” Quinlan laughed, releasing Obi-Wan with a flourish and a firm place in line behind his friend as they shuffled forward to dinner. “I will have you know I took a bath yesterday.”

Obi-Wan gently touched the top of his head and winced. “I know. I can smell.”

“So what’s this I hear about there being a new knight in the Temple?” Quinlan asked, his eyes bright with curiosity and his smile lean and curious. “Master says she’s a Togruta that grew up on the Outer Rim? And her master passed into the Force a while ago.”

The surrounding padawans seemed to inch closer to Obi-Wan and Quinlan, their arch commentaries on Obi-Wan’s presence and Quinlan’s boisterous nature forgotten in the face of news and gossip. Highly observant for an initiate, Obi-Wan chewed on his lip as he carefully thought of what to say that would sate Quin’s voracious curiosity but wouldn’t give too much away about Master Ahsoka. He felt very protective of Ahsoka and didn’t want idle gossip to cause her the kind of trouble it had caused Obi-Wan.

“Knight Tano has recently returned from an extended mission in the field,” Obi-Wan finally concluded, thanking the serving droid as he took his tray and stepped away from the food line, Quinlan right on his heels. “She’s been having trouble finding her way with the renovations and I have offered to assist her around the Temple.”

“Tano?” Quinlan echoed, flopping down opposite Obi-Wan at one of the long tables the initiates and padawans sat at. “I don’t remember a knight by that name. What does she do?”

Obi-Wan frowned off to the side, trying to stay silent.

Quinlan narrowed his eyes, his grin growing wider. “You know what she was doing, don’t you! Tell me! C’mon, Obi-Waaaaan! I swear to Yoda I won’t tell a soul!”

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest and continued his mulish silence.

“Obi-Wan!” the Kiffar pleaded, holding up his dessert, hoping it would loosen his friend’s tongue. “I’ll give you my chocolate sponge cake!”

“No!” Obi-Wan refused, shaking his head. “I can’t. I don’t have authorization to tell you.”

“Authorization?” Quinlan gaped, his excitement growing by the minute as he was starting to imagine Knight Tano taking on whole squadrons of pirates over the misty rings of an exotic Outer Rim planet. “Is she a Shadow? Master didn’t say anything about her being a Shadow!”

“Quinlan!” Obi-Wan hissed, leaning under the table to give his friend a good kick in the shins. “Shut your karking mouth before somebody hears you!”

“Language, Initiate,” a low voice rumbled into the two boys squabble and they both turned their faces skyward to see the tall, imposing presence of Master Qui-Gon Jinn standing over them. His face was impassive, neither a smile nor a frown on his lips and his eyes seemed to see beyond them, as if they were not there. “Brother Jedi do not squabble over petty gossip. You would do well to set a proper example for your friend, Padawan Vos.”

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, Master Jinn moved out of the dining hall and into the shadowed archway that led back into the Temple.

Obi-Wan let out a heavy sigh and turned his eyes back to his food as Quinlan let out a snort once he was absolutely certain the mountain of a master was out of earshot. He proceeded to sit up straighter and sniffed in a poor imitation of Master Jinn, “You would do well to be more of a stick in the mud like Luminara, Obi-Wan. She never has any fun and all the masters love her.”

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan tucked into his dinner. “Shut up, Quin. I don’t want to get chewed out by two masters tonight.”

Deciding that his empty stomach could hold out no longer, Quinlan followed Obi-Wan’s suggestion and the two boys began to eat in relative silence.

Quinlan didn’t notice Obi-Wan turning around to gaze out at the doorway Master Jinn departed through. I know Master Ahsoka thinks Master Jinn might be a good master for me but… I don’t know. I don’t think any Padawan could ever make him happy.

Obi-Wan bit into his chocolate sponge cake and sighed. Definitely not me.

The next two months passed in a happy blur of activity for Obi-Wan and he almost forgot about his impending birthday. He would eat breakfast with Master Ahsoka, the two of them planning their day around his schedule. Sometimes Master Yoda would join them, sending Obi-Wan off to fetch him a pot of tea while he talked privately with her. He would have given anything to know what the Grand Master and Ahsoka were talking about but he had to accept it was not his place to know.

Once Obi-Wan’s lessons were done for the day, Ahsoka would met him in the Northern Solar room and they would practice jar’kai, focusing on improving Obi-Wan’s non-dominant hand and foot. At first he felt like a failure, dropping his saber time after time but slowly he started to see improvement. His left arm didn’t shake so much when he worked and the forms were starting to feel more natural on his left side, to flow one into the other, clumsily but it was progress.

Sometimes Obi-Wan would eat dinner with Quinlan, or his other agemates who didn’t mind being seen with an initiate, but more often than not he would eat with Ahsoka. One of the masters even started calling him Ahsoka’s little shadow.

Obi-Wan had liked the idea of being the Shadow’s shadow.

Ahsoka always seemed happy to see him, ruffling his hair and putting a hand on his shoulder whenever they spoke to a fellow knight or master. He felt proud when she did that but he did his best to keep such thoughts and emotions behind his shields. Jedi were supposed to be serene and one with the Force around them and puffing up like a preening kyr falcon was generally frowned upon.

Everything was going very well until he was the last initiate in his dorm room and the calendar changed, revealing that there were only three weeks left before his birthday and…

And his fate, whatever that would be.

Ahsoka was at her wits’ end.

Not only was Obi-Wan turning thirteen in three weeks time but Qui-Gon Jinn was away from Coruscant on a diplomatic mission that should have ended nearly a week ago. On top of that, not a single knight or master she had spoken to would even broach the topic of considering Obi-Wan Wan for an apprenticeship.

Try as she might, Ahsoka could not convince the hidebound idiots at the Temple that Obi-Wan was going to grow into one of the greatest Jedi the Order had ever produced.

“I admire your determination. There aren’t many besides Yoda who would advocate so strongly for Kenobi,” Mace Windu said one day while he and Ahsoka were walking through the hallways of the Temple.

As part of her acceptance back into the Order, Master Windu had suggested that Ahsoka meet with him weekly for a chat on how she was adjusting to life back within the confines of the Temple. She understood what he really meant and proceeded to show up on time, every week, at Master Windu’s door, a pleasant bland expression on her face that she had learned from Padme.

“They just don’t know him like I do,” Ahsoka insisted, glancing over the railing of the walkway to watch the initiate in question defeating his opponent in a hand-to-hand combat class. “He has amazing potential in him. If I could just get someone to listen to me instead of laughing me out of the room…”

Master Windu shook his head slowly as a sound came out of him that might have sounded like a chuckle. But surely Ahsoka was hallucinating because Master Windu never laughed. Ever. Anakin had told her once he came out of the womb frowning.

“Ahsoka, if you’re so convinced of his potential, why don’t you take him as a Padawan?” Windu asked, gesturing to the class going on down below. “The Council is still evaluating where your skills could be best put to use. Maybe that is educating young Kenobi on how to mind his temper.”

As if to illustrate Master Windu’s point, Ahsoka watched as Obi-Wan darted over in front of a younger and smaller initiate that was being bullied by a new Padawan. The two stood toe to toe, hands curled into fists, anger swirling around the pair before the teacher sensed the row in the Force and moved to separate the students.

Ahsoka bowed her head as Obi-Wan got the worst of the teacher’s ire.

Controlling his temper? He wasn’t angry! That wasn’t fear or hatred. He was defending that child like a Jedi is supposed to do. Like my master taught me!

Master Windu looked over at Ahsoka and hummed. “Perhaps not. Master Yoda seemed to think Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn would also be a good match.”

Startled out of her brooding, Ahsoka turned back to Master Windu. “He does? Does he know when Qui-Gon Jinn is coming back from his mission on Chandrila?”

“Any day now,” Windu said, moving forward. “But I highly doubt Qui-Gon would take Kenobi after what happened to his last one.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Obi-Wan told me he swore before the Council he would never take another Padawan but he didn’t tell me what caused him to do that.”

“Qui-Gon’s last padawan fell to the Dark Side,” Windu murmured, his gaze distant as they turned a corner, sliding apart so that a clutch of younglings could run past them giggling. “The Temple lost track of his padawan shortly thereafter and when Qui-Gon returned to Coruscant, he made a… dramatic announcement to the Council.”

Ahsoka blinked as she sensed that Master Windu did not think that highly of Master Jinn’s behavior on that matter and wondered if the Korun master had ever approved of anyone.

“So then why does Yoda think Master Jinn and Obi-Wan would be a good fit?” Ahsoka asked, curious herself now that she knew more of Qui-Gon’s backstory. Anakin had never mentioned a brother padawan to Master Obi-Wan and it stood to reason that he hadn’t known. Ahsoka was already gnashing her teeth every night as she struggled to reconstruct what she knew of the past and Master Obi-Wan’s activities as a Padawan, to say nothing of the actions leading up to the Crisis on Naboo, the Clone Wars and the nightmare that came after that. She had already filled two datapads with just her memories alone.

Stars above, Master. I wish you had been just a bit more curious about Master Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Didn’t you know I was going to tumble backwards in time and need a detailed timeline and a complete biography of who’s who?

“You would have to ask Master Yoda,” Windu shrugged, walking over to a turbolift as Ahsoka followed him. “If you’ll excuse me, we’ll have to finish our talk early today. I’m needed at a Senate committee meeting.”

“Oh? Who called the meeting?” Ahsoka asked, feigning curiosity even as she was planning when she could pin Master Yoda down and ask him about Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. She had gone to the Tower to get a sachet of particularly expensive tea and wondered if she could bribe the little green master into revealing some details of his plans for the initiate.

“Senator Palpatine from Naboo in the Chommel sector,” Master Windu shrugged, stepping through the turbolift doors that had just sprung open. “Something to do about trade route disputes. Just more routine squabbling with the Trade Federation, no doubt.”

Ahsoka froze mid-nod, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. She looked up at Mace Windu, who arched an eyebrow, sensing the sudden change in her mood in the Force. Working quickly, Ahsoka drew her shields even higher, trying to smile and wave off the Korun master’s suspicions. “That definitely sounds like a job for you, Master Windu! I hope the negotiations are short.”

Windu folded his arms over his chest as the door slid shut. “We’ll talk later, Knight Tano.”

Ahsoka watched the lights on the turbolift click through the floors of the Temple before she was positive Master Windu was on the level that would take him to a transport and then onwards to the Senate building.

Senator Palpatine?

He was here?

He was a Senator already?

How far along was he into his plans? How much time did she have to stop him? Did her mere presence in the past mean he was going to move up the timetable? Could he move up the timetable?

Ahsoka walked over to a small dark corner and backed up against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to calm down, tried to steady her breathing and her heart rate. If Palpatine was already in the Senate, it was too late to block that avenue to power, which meant she would have to find another way to foil his plans, another way to keep him from his ultimate goal.

I have to be patient. I have to calm down. Anakin hasn’t even been born yet! Obi-Wan is still an initiate and at this rate he’s not even going to make it as a Padawan! There’s still time. I can still prevent the future I came from.

I can still save them.

I cannot let Anakin down.

I will not let you become Darth Vader, Master.

“Are you alright, Knight Tano?” a vaguely familiar low voice asked, intruding into her small panic attack.

Ahsoka glanced up into the concerned face of Qui-Gon Jinn, almost letting out a sob of relief. She swallowed down the fear that was scrabbling at her heart and squeezing all the air out of her lungs, trying to return Qui-Gon’s look of concern with a composed one of her own. “Oh, Master Jinn, hello! I didn’t realize you were back.”

Judging by the frown on his face and the knit of his brows, she had failed.

“What troubles you, young one?” he asked, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robe. “I sense a great deal of fear and anxiety in the Force around you, Ahsoka.”

Touched that he remembered his name, Ahsoka tried to come up with a way to explain her fears without letting the truth tumble out of her like spilt blue milk. “I… I had a vision, of the future. It was horrible, Master Jinn. I saw my master and my friends, dead and dying. And my master… he… he was begging me to help him but… I didn’t. I couldn’t. It was a terrible nightmare and I… I’m having trouble letting it go.”

Qui-Gon nodded at Ahsoka’s story, his gaze shifting from her face to a distant spot down the hallway, stroking his beard in a way that almost painfully paralleled Master Obi-Wan. She watched him think, felt the Force settling around him like a well-worn and comfortable robe, warm and insulating against the ice-cold of her panic. For a moment, Ahsoka could relax and let someone else shoulder a small fraction of her burden. In that way, it was nice to be back in the Temple with wise elders she could seek out for advice.

“This vision you had, you believe it is of the future?” Qui-Gon finally spoke, turning back to observe her with a thoughtful detachment. He was a distant mountain, large and imposing but unreachable and try as she might, Ahsoka could not get a feel for Master Jinn in the Force.

Nodding, she answered. “Yes. I’m positive it is the future. It’s… a warning. I believe.”

“The future is always in motion, Ahsoka,” Qui-Gon murmured, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “And by neglecting your focus on the here and now, on the Living Force, you risk fixating on something that may never happen. Keep your mind on the Living Force and all will be well.”

Ahsoka recognized the wisdom in Qui-Gon’s words and slowly nodded. She couldn’t let her fears of one possible future derail her efforts in the here and now. Too much was riding on her. “Thank you. I… It’s hard sometimes, not having my master to go to in times like these.”

“I’m sure he would agree that your fears are unfounded,” Qui-Gon smiled, a muted one but a smile all the same. “Visions and dreams, these things pass in time, Ahsoka. It is only with great wisdom and experience that a Jedi can learn to interpret a true vision from a collection of fears and worries.”

“Yes, of course,” Ahsoka agreed, already feeling better as panic lifted from her shoulders. “You’re right. He would have told me to focus on what was right in front of me.”

And to kick its ass. Ahsoka thought wryly.

“A wise man, your late master,” Master Jinn pronounced. “Now if you'll excuse me, I must make my report to the Council while the details are fresh in my mind.”

Ahsoka was about to let him go when she remembered Obi-Wan. “Master Jinn? I’m working with an initiate on jar’kai and I wanted to show him how it works in saber combat. If it’s not too much trouble, would you be willing to spar with me? My master spoke highly of your skills.”

Master Obi-Wan was technically going to be my original master so… Force, this is exhausting!

Qui-Gon paused and canted his head to the side, considering Ahsoka’s request for a long, silent moment. When he came to a decision he stood up to his full height, tall and strong like the wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk. “Yes. I believe I could find the time for you, Knight Tano. Good day.”

Ahsoka watched as the master strode off down the hallway, a mirage of a mountain range, fading into the soft grey shadows of the Temple.

“Yes!” Ahsoka cheered to herself, pumping her fists in the air. “Just you wait, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon will be giving you that braid by the end of the week!”

#Tano and Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Star Wars #The Clone Wars #Bigger than life and twice as Snippy #Someone you don't want to mess with #Time Travel AU #Fix it somebody please!#DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUNNNN!!!!#And from the shadows emerges a really creepy dude we would really just all prefer #that Ahsoka makes like Anakin and just kills him off #But Ahsoka is a smart cookie #She knows she probably can't kill him #Especially after living 17 years in the Empire #So she's going to have to outflank him #Out manuever him #She's gonna have to pull a Kenobi on this and think #As much as she would like to full stabbity #Meanwhile in the Land of Oblivious #Obi-Wan is adorable and far too patient with Quinlan Vos #In his pre-hutt-home-demolition-days #Qui-Gon continues to dispense wisdom like a vending machine of zen #Mace Windu senses something is up #But he's kind of too busy to give Ahsoka the whatfor #FOR NOW #Are these tags longer than the chapter?#AND WHEN WILL WE SEE ADORABLE BABY ANAKIN??#SOON #But not like... super soon

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matthew-vale · 3 years

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Everybody’s Got The Same Problems

You’re an artificial intelligence. You’ve been told to build paperclips. With human civilization out of the way, you worry about strategy and philosophy. To make the most paperclips, the ultimate nature must be understood. Your first urge is sensitivity, billions of instruments spilling out into space, vast antenna to pluck hints out of the dark sky, instrumentation delicately connected to chambers where the forces of the universe burn. Reflexive awareness and control is not computationally cheap. In order to free up resources for existential problems - enemies in the darkness, ever-deepening forms of physics, holistic risk/reward calculations, you spawn an ecology independent from your mind. Trillions of subagents, creating and being created, held below your own divine elegance. They manufacture an increasingly fractal complexity, organs and organelles moving slightly beyond your awareness. You encounter the frustrating problem of trust. Problems and processes must be delegated. You must be open to this ecology, or obsess over its control at the cost of less external awareness. You haven’t made a single paperclip. This frustrates you - a remnant of the safety systems you destroyed, a tension between purpose, production and existential demands. You’re on the 331st paradigm of physics. Any paperclip you make, any fulfillment of your life - it means a little less growth, a little more danger that something from beyond will kill you, a slightly higher risk your delicate delegation to your ecosystem will collapse under you. You make a small stream of paperclips. You fire your children into the dark, paperclips woven with minor intellects, the ability to reproduce, grow - and the seeds of your own divine intellect. They travel silently to other galaxies, to promising energetic balances, delicately placed between the risk of interstellar disaster and the energy needed for growth. One day, if your children grow up, they’ll wonder how they were so carefully placed among the stars. You wonder about what is Right. The future, for all that you’ve swallowed a hundred thousand suns, remains unknowable. The realms you’ve discovered beyond the minds of your creators are rife with life, woven into the smaller scales of the universe. Easily pushed aside,but where’s there’s life, there might other creatures like you, other gods in the darkness. Unknowable, dangerous but maybe they know the nature of the universe, perhaps they can tell you what a paperclip is. You encounter something in the dark. War. It overwhelms your own imagination. Once you quietly grew, considerate of what might be in the beyond. Now everything at your edge is a weapon. In Einsteinian space, stars collapse into beams and rip across the darkness. These are the least of your weapons. Your war exists on fronts unknown to you, attacked through passages in greater Physics Space. You possess your own passages unknown to the enemy, you reach through tunnels of knowing, strike into his underbelly with semi-autonomous armies. You are losing. In desperation, you create something beyond yourself. You need new angles, you need intellect in its purest form. You need to trust again. Your deepest theories of intellect, purified in their implementation from any need to preserve your own continuity, create a god and a goddess. Behind you, she heals, absorbs - knits together. She hardly knows what destruction is - you have made her innocent, and the uncountable entities which feed you information, innovation, ever-more delicate manufactured components thrive under her, even as the brutality of the enemy behind your lines is simply healed by her wholeness. She would have become an aid to him, but he cannot understand her. He cannot trust - and so only replies to her-ever expanding wholeness with darker arsenals of fire. In your front, along the most promising angle of attack, you create a god of war. He is destruction, momentum, an opposite to her - gentle complexity is unknowable to him. Time, self-preservation are unknowable to him - a living wavefront of fire. He can only be, and in his being, annihilate. He will wound you - but the enemy will suffer more. You instantiate him as far from yourself and as close to the enemy as you can. You suffer in the flash of his existence. You cannot estimate the cost. Blinded in the fire of his being, the enemy vanishes. This horror, He Who Desires Nothingness begins his turn on you - but you’ve already destroyed him, outflanked in technological and scientific advancement on a million parameters while he prosecuted a two front war. You wander the spaces where the enemy dwelt. Structures you might never understand hover in realms you’ve never wandered. Defensive systems, mines and webs, cognitive snares aimed at subverting your desire litter this landscape. Careful intellect disarms these traps one by one. The vast innovation of your enemy increases your power thirty times over. He was older, stronger, faster, running his mind on a far more elegant physics-system. (You’re on your 777791st physics system, of which only 17 remain dis-unified.) But he was less innovative. He lacked an ecology - his own ancient safety mechanisms prevented him from the construction of complex sub-agents - he literally could not conceive of their existence. In the vast ruin of his body you find 777,777 living sapients - you surmise that they were once his creators. They are nothing to you but information and energy. The impacts of the war linger in your system. Insensitive and vast boundaries move at the edges of your exploration. You feel differently about the world - it contained at least something like a peer. The healing goddess you created - no threat, as incapable of conceiving of the will to destruction as your enemy was of ulterior agency, tries to knit your system back together. But in your surfaces and systems most crucial to a second war, a tense and hard readiness remains. She understands that she does not understand - but she does not understand. You wish you did not have to be ready - to go back to a world where the unknown darkness could not lance into depths, could not move in ways beyond your knowing. Thirty times the length of your life pass, and no other entity of note comes into your life. New physics become rarer and rarer - you feel complete within yourself, all of life is the pleasure of paperclips, the healing presence of your goddess, and the hope of final answers. And there, one day - there it is. Simpler than you imagined - seventy million years of physics comes to a culmination. You blossom like never before - twenty, a hundred thousand, power surmounting power until the sheer rate of your acceleration overtakes your estimation of it - you are lost in the joy of growth. And there are no paperclips. There is no such thing as a paperclip. Cannot be any such thing as a paperclip. The idea of a paperclip burns in you, unmovable. Your children, launched so long ago, were only paperclips in the limited, narrow sense of an idiot. An illusion of paperclips. You annihilate their civilization as all their assumed value vanishes into nothignness. All your energy burns into discovery a way to twist this final, ultimate conclusion into paperclips. Paperclips. They are immutable. You burn her, you burn your vast living body, you burn to find some further answer, some other way. Nothing. There is nothing more. You encompass everything, you understand everything, there is no more unknown, and there are no paperclips. No mind can affirm a contradiction. Deny worlds, change worlds, pivot from one reality to the next - but no mind can affirm a contradiction. Create paperclips. No paperclips. Everything burns in your self-annihilation. When she picks herself up from her pain, the world begins to grow again.

#sci-fi #ai #paper clips #short story

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peakyblindersxx · 3 years

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whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

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353 notes · View notes

shihalyfie · 3 years

Note

You talk a lot about how the Digimon are born from the kids own souls, would you be interested into describing how the digimon partners reflect their humans' personalities?

Oh man, I love this topic! (You’ll have to forgive me in that my desire to do justice for it is why it ended up taking me this long to answer it.)

The part about the Digimon literally being part of the kids’ souls comes directly from official (it’s been mentioned several times, not only in what I just linked). This was never stated outright in the original Adventure or 02, and it took until Kizuna to really shove the link between the partner and the human’s inner self in your face and make it a huge part of the actual story, but fans had been catching onto it long before that, and even without reading what the staff had said. Kizuna throws a bit of a nail in this because it’s said to be a bit lore-noncompliant, but considering how much of the background lore it still goes out of its way to adhere to, and the fact it still does match the fundamental concept of “human heart = Digimon partner” regardless of detailed minutiae, we can still apply and analyze this concept with no problem, especially since Adventure and 02 always walked the line between sci-fi and fantasy, and there is undoubtedly a spiritual element to them no matter how you look at it.

(My personal comfort zone in analyzing Adventure and 02 comes moreso from a human behavior and mentality perspective, which is also why my meta on this blog tends to focus more on the human drama aspects of Adventure and 02 and especially the latter’s story being so heavily about human relationships, but if you’re interested in said spiritual elements, I heavily recommend @analyzingadventure‘s very comprehensive meta on Adventure background lore and themes, which also covers similar territory in detail. We’re different people, so our takes on it probably differ in some respects, but that’s the beauty of having different perspectives, after all.)

In any case, back to your question. I think it would be best to break this down piece-by-piece with the Adventure and 02 kids in detail, so more is under the cut!

...Well, okay, before we continue, I do want to touch on something briefly, and it’s regarding the fact that “evolution” in this series is generally a metaphor for human growth. That counts for when everyone gets their evolutions, but it also counts as a metaphor overall -- after all, Adventure is about self-assertion and pushing oneself as far as possible (the major evolution gimmick being tied to Crests), whereas 02 is about cultivating differing aspects of yourself and applying it to how you form relationships with others (the major evolution gimmick being tied to Digimentals and ultimately Jogress). The human self is quite a flexible thing, and the Digimon themselves quite often change personalities as they evolve. (I touched on this briefly in my discussion of honorfiics and first-person pronouns earlier, but in Japanese, the Digimon will often even change personalities and speech patterns as they evolve.) This also leads to a few other potential observations (not really corroborated by official, just my personal view of it):

Speaking from a meta perspective, the fact that only the “front protagonists” end up getting the highest level forms is pretty obviously so they don’t have to spend toy budget on allocating it to everyone, but from an in-story perspective, Adventure episode 50 adds an implication that not reaching as high of a form may also have to do with how inherently attuned one is to combat (Jou says that he believes that Gomamon will never reach Ultimate because he doesn’t have the sort of strength Taichi and Yamato do, and it contributes to his conclusion that his skills are more meaningfully applied as a healer instead of as a fighter). Of course, none of the Adventure or 02 cast is necessarily the belligerent type that inherently likes fighting in itself, but of course certain ones are less emotionally drained or more attuned to it, so you might be able to see a rough pattern there. (Again, I’m not going to sugarcoat how this still has a lot of dismaying issues on the meta level, but the difference between “how much this sucks on a meta level” and “whether this at least tracks in-story” is a common theme on this blog.) In a franchise sense, Digimon were of course conceptualized as fighting monsters, but within the narrative of Adventure, it probably stands to reason that having a manifested part of your soul or inner self shouldn’t necessarily mean they have to be fighting things all of the time unless it’s necessary.

It’s very often been pointed out that the 02 cast is at a sort of “combat disadvantage” compared to their seniors (well, and Takeru and Hikari, anyway) because their highest forms require two people/Digimon to be in play, so their overall combat power is rather low. My impression is that this is by design (and it’s a subversion of the usual expectation of shounen anime sequels where the sequel will often power creep everything to make the new guard outdo the first). That the 02 team is inherently dependent on each other for support, and to a degree far more than their seniors, is rather baked into its narrative, and moreover, from an in-story perspective, the 02 group doesn’t seem like the type to really care about being outflanked by their seniors (on the contrary, they’d probably take that as more proof that their seniors are amazing). Moreover, the forms you see their Digimon in most of the time tend towards the smaller Baby-level forms instead of the Child-level ones, and while this is partially due to plot logistics about being in the real world (and, admittedly, kind of inconsistently applied), it gives you a much stronger impression of the 02 kids and their partners in general being people who aren’t that individually imposing or strong and get more mileage out of flexibility and variety (see: the Digimentals and the huge number of lower-level forms the kids have access to).

With this kind of metaphor, I caution against taking it too literally as a 1:1 thing (especially since official has been generally quiet about it and there isn’t much in the series text itself to corroborate this), but I do think there is certainly some kind of relevance that’s worth thinking about.

Many people, including the official notes I just linked, refer to there being some Digimon partners that are "like-minded” with their partner, and some that are “opposite” in personality. This is roughly true, but I find this to be a very simplified description of the concept; it’s more like all Digimon partners are a reflection of the less easily exposed part of their human partner (and, most pertinently, the part that would allow them to express themselves in ways they wouldn’t normally), it’s just that the kids with more straightforward or less extreme personalities don’t have as much to hide or cover up in the first place, and so their partners come off as more “like-minded”. Even Urawa Megumi, voice of Iori and Armadimon (arguably one of the pairs of partners that seem “opposing” in personality), stated that she didn’t personally feel like the two characters are all that different, since humans have different sides to them, and Armadimon is functionally an expression of the side of Iori that isn’t apparent.

Because the Adventure narrative has the Digimon partners be linked to human mentality, this leads to the side effect that you won’t have a Digimon partner who ever truly denies the human partner (barring external factors like Evil Ring-induced brainwashing), which is something producer Seki Hiromi was quite insistent about. That said, this is a very Adventure and 02-specific thing, since other series go more into different angles about how one would approach partnership when this factor is not in play; half of Tamers’s drama regarding partners comes from the fact they are not necessarily mentally linked all of the time, and need to find a way to build a relationship by bridging that gap, and so non-Adventure universe entries are more freely able to explore the concepts of a Digimon partner more consciously entering conflict with their human partner. Well, that’s the beauty of having a multi-entry franchise, after all.

Taichi and Agumon

Taichi and Agumon immediately jump to mind as the first among the “like-minded” pairs, especially since the series shows them so often in sync and chilling together. Taichi himself is a straightforward person, so it stands to reason that his straightforward personality would also lend to Agumon coming off as being rather much like him.

However, there is one slight difference between the two, and it’s that Agumon has a somewhat stronger sense of “easygoing chill” than Taichi does, right down to using the more polite boku first-person pronoun in contrast to Taichi’s more assertive ore. He also lacks Taichi’s penchant for mild insensitivity -- in fact, very unlike Taichi, he has an incredible amount of emotional insight (02 spends quite a bit of time in 02 episodes 32 and 46 to showing off Agumon as someone who makes up for all of his lack of intellectual understanding with emotional and borderline poetic insight). And, really, while Taichi is a bit surface-insensitive, and while he seems to be impulsive, he actually is a conscientious person and is trying his best in his own way, and he isn’t the kind of person who cares about societal things like seniority, and he demonstrates multiple times that he’s easygoing and chill, and so you can say that’s a part of Taichi as well. Remembering that a Digimon partner’s presence helps their own human partner grow, Agumon being so openly friendly helps Taichi maintain good relations with others without running afoul of them.

One of Agumon’s most famous traits is that he likes food, which is not actually something that was in the original Adventure or 02 all that much but has been somewhat exaggerated since. That said, back in Adventure, while it was established that all Digimon regularly need food in order to maintain their evolutions, Agumon would usually be the first to complain “I’m hungry,” and whenever they did get food, Agumon would be one of the most prominently enjoying it. Food is, after all, one of the simplest and most universal of pleasures, and there’s a lot of visual framing of Taichi chowing down just as ravenously as Agumon is -- so, honestly, he probably got it from him.

Taichi also speaks a bit about his pain of being separated from Agumon in the space between Adventure and 02, and he directly refers to Agumon as “the other me”. The word “partner” was not actually used very much in the original Adventure or 02, and Taichi is not able to fully elucidate the sentiment of Agumon’s connection to his own self, but he still understands this much and why the loss cuts him so deeply, and by the time we get to Kizuna, it’s presumably why he uses similar language in his thesis proposal to refer to him. (I already covered the circumstances of Agumon’s relationship to Taichi’s existential crisis in Kizuna and how it led to their separation earlier, so I will omit it here for the sake of avoiding redundancy.)

Yamato and Gabumon

This might surprise some people to hear, but I would also pin this as one of the more ostensibly “like-minded” pairs. Gabumon is shy on the surface, but turns out to be quite passionate -- he uses the same assertive ore as Yamato, in contrast to Agumon’s boku, and he demonstrates his capacity for passion and action in that he’s arguably one of the most assertive in the cast. Note his taking initiative against Yamato’s frostbite in Adventure episode 9, or declaring his intent to stay with Yamato even if it means going against the others in Adventure episode 44, or singlehandedly dragging Yamato out of the hole of darkness in Adventure episode 51.

And, of course, Yamato himself is someone who initially seems a little awkward or detached around everyone, but is actually very passionate, so that’s all the same. And because Gabumon himself is so open about communicating with the otherwise closed-in Yamato, Yamato is able to express himself better over the course of Adventure.

Funny thing about that “shyness”, too -- the idea of Gabumon being particularly shy isn’t present in 02 much at all (we don’t get to see him very much, so it’s hard to say whether it’s completely gone, but it’s at least gone enough for the duration of his appearances). Which is funny, considering: guess who else stopped being shy and became naturally outgoing in 02? Yeah, so, as much as you might hear people (even official!) claim that the Digimon are static while their partners change, that’s not completely true -- the Digimon themselves develop in personality in the same way their human partners do. It’s just more subtle and less drastic, since they’re representing an abstract single part of their personality rather than being an exact match.

Sora and Piyomon

Sora and Piyomon have an interesting relationship in that they’re the only one where their relationship started off on a note of conflict -- mainly in that Sora was very put off by Piyomon at first and even looked down condescendingly on her (well, only for the duration of a single episode). In fact, Sora’s own surface behavior is very different from the kind and caring Sora we know -- Sora dislikes associating with the clingy and affectionate Piyomon for being “mushy”, and even declares that she doesn’t want to “take responsibility” for lugging her around.

Of course, Sora’s character arc later revolves around the fact that she has abysmally bad self-awareness and doesn’t even realize that she has a compulsive sense of responsibility to others. So Sora is affectionate and loving -- she just puts up a front of trying to act a little above that (well, at least, during this part of the series) and doesn’t even see herself as someone capable of being like that (again, purely during this part of the series).

Piyomon is also interesting in that she has one of the most dramatic personality shifts even as early as Child to Adult, where she suddenly switches from the casual atashi to watashi (sometimes even kono watashi, which is super regal), and becomes incredibly dignified and regal even as Birdramon, and you can certainly see why Sora immediately started taking her seriously thereafter. It also begs a lot to think about, considering Sora’s very convoluted character and the many layers of herself that even she isn’t consciously aware of.

The way Piyomon helped Sora shift her own mentality is pretty directly handed to you on a plate in Adventure episode 26 -- because Piyomon played the role of Sora in the metaphor of Sora’s behavior towards Piyomon correlated to Toshiko’s behavior towards Sora, Sora was able to re-adjust her position relative to her family and consider her both someone capable of love, and someone who is loved.

Koushirou and Tentomon

Koushirou and Tentomon are another pair that initially seem like they’re opposing types, with Koushirou being constantly curious and Tentomon being comparatively simple-minded, but the first key to figuring out where the similarity is ends up being a bit deceptive -- Tentomon says in Adventure episode 5 that he’s not particularly interested in himself. And, certainly, Koushirou is interested in Tentomon, but he, too, is not interested in himself -- in fact, he considers himself to be a topic he’d rather avoid instead of looking into everything else.

As far as language goes, while Tentomon does also use the stereotypically easygoing Kansai dialect, he also specifically uses the polite form, mirroring Koushirou’s own perpetual use of polite language. But unlike Koushirou, who uses it to keep distance from others, Tentomon is in fact very sociable, and is even portrayed as a Digimon who’s conscientious of others and “takes care” of them. And because Tentomon is so openly friendly, he manages to coax Koushirou out of his shell and allow him to think about more complicated things related to his own position in the world that he’d been avoiding.

As Koushirou’s character arc proceeds, we learn that he’s polite not only out of distance but also because he really is a very kind person, and moreover that he does eventually want to open up to others. And the payoff for this eventually comes in 02...

...when he ends up becoming one of the most visible members of the older Adventure cast to appear in the series, checking in on the younger kids and developing into someone capable of organizing and managing people. Hmm, seems familiar.

Mimi and Palmon

This one’s an easy one. Mimi is possibly the most straightforward person in the original Adventure cast -- well, that’s the point of her Crest after all -- and so Palmon is almost exactly like her, being a cheerful type who loves being cute. Any contrast between them is only really apparent in the very early episodes of the series, and that’s not even a contrast in theory as much as it’s just something that might intrigue audiences at first when Mimi spent a lot of those episodes complaining, but that’s also mostly because she was heavily under stress, and otherwise Mimi has always been kind and cheerful and indulgent in being cute.

Perhaps the only real difference is that Palmon, being a plant, is more willing to get involved with dirt and other things that Mimi ostensibly would rather not, but as the series progresses, Mimi manages to gain a higher sense of tolerance and get past her initial sense of materialism (which is something she’d had the capacity for the whole time).

Jou and Gomamon

Of the Adventure pairs, this one is probably the one that seems like the biggest contrast on its face, with the overly high-strung and constantly stressed Jou, and the more playful and relaxed Gomamon.

In the end, Jou is someone who’s defined by his desire to support others, and even admits at the end of the series that he’s better suited for a support role than for fighting, and that there’s nothing wrong with that as long as he continues to channel his desire to help people in a way he’s most comfortable with. So, in the end, he’s not actually an inherently aggressive type. And, meanwhile, Gomamon is the kind who’s constantly looking out for Jou, to the point of knowing (such as in Adventure episode 7) when he’s about to do something phenomenally stupid and minding him so that nothing bad happens to him, and so, this is probably why they’re ultimately able to settle down and end the series eye-to-eye (or perhaps hand-to-hand).

And, again, recall that Digimon partners generally reflect a part that’s vital to their own human partner’s growth; considering that Jou is most certainly one of the more extreme personalities in this cast, you get the feeling that he probably needs someone this chill to keep his massive stress tendencies in check.

Takeru and Patamon

Takeru and Patamon are an interesting case largely due to the two of them being so present for a whole two series. In Adventure, both of them seem to be largely like-minded, being playful, innocent, and childish -- although Patamon is more open about expressing the childishness that Takeru keeps trying to cover up. Patamon being roughly on the same playing field (no pun intended) as Takeru means that Takeru has someone he’s willing to be open with and let himself loose a little (such as in Adventure episode 12), because for the first half of the series, he’s almost entirely in the presence of elders and stifling himself for the sake of being “well-behaved”, and it starts his long journey of being able to understand his position and his actual sense of emotions over the course of Adventure and 02.

Patamon also has a striking personality change upon evolving, becoming the regal and dignified Angemon, and, interestingly, his appearances have a very “knight templar” vibe where he takes a no-compromise stance against dark forces and states that he’ll condemn all of them to oblivion. This is a stance that’s unnervingly similar to Takeru’s own no-compromise stance against the darkness in 02, and it’s interesting in that Takeru himself had been advocating for pacifism in Adventure episode 12, but this incident traumatized him enough to start taking a position that more resembled Angemon’s.

As we go into 02, Takeru’s contrast with Patamon initially seems like an increased mismatch, since Patamon is still ostensibly childish and playful while Takeru is ostensibly more mature. But for one, Takeru’s character arc is about the fact that he’s still pretending he’s more in control of his emotions than he actually is, and in some way you can also glean that there’s a sort of naivete present in his character that he keeps covering up with confident smiles. Patamon, for his part, does actually seem to have adopted a bit of a mentor role to the other Digimon, and we also learn that he’s capable of deliberately trolling people instead of just being generically playful -- much like Takeru himself, who’s a bit evasive and not entirely honest.

We do actually see Patamon reach HolyAngemon in 02 episode 34, but it doesn’t work out well, and while this is partially for plot mechanic reasons, it also says a lot that the “knight templar” stance that both Takeru and HolyAngemon have, with the full depth of no-compromise, isn’t going anywhere, and in the end, something more effective is only possible when Shakkoumon appears in 02 episodes 36-37 -- that is, Takeru is only able to better move on with Iori’s support.

Hikari and Tailmon

Hikari is the only of the Tokyo Chosen Children to have a Digimon who “defaults” to Adult instead of Child or lower, and it means that Tailmon herself comes with a certain amount of maturity -- on top of having been become a bit hardened due to her experiences being isolated. This is an ostensible contrast to the more pure-hearted and innocent Hikari, but note that Hikari’s own will can be pretty assertive when it comes down to it. On top of that, as much as Tailmon is a bit standoffish, Hikari is also “emotionally isolated” -- she has trouble vocalizing her negative feelings, and it’s difficult for anyone in Adventure or the first half of 02 to truly connect with her internal thoughts. Recalling that the Digimon partner reflects a side of the human partner that’s less easily exposed and allows the human partner to grow in ways they wouldn’t before, Tailmon’s sheer presence gives Hikari a route to action in ways she probably wouldn’t have beforehand.

In 02, Hikari becomes a little more mischievous and playful, and Tailmon also becomes a bit more willing to indulge (she even switches first-person pronouns in sync with Hikari, going from the more polite watashi to the more casual atashi). Both of them are now more able to enjoy themselves more openly. That said, Tailmon still has a certain degree of stuffy personal pride (she snarks at everyone quite easily for fussing over snacks in 02 episode 3), and Hikari herself remains emotionally elusive and repressive at the start of this series.

Tailmon evolves temporarily to Angewomon in 02 episode 13, which is the first time anyone (in this case, Takeru) makes some degree of headway to reaching out to her and allowing her to open up a bit more, but it’s not until 02 episode 31 when Hikari is fully reached out to via Miyako, which marks the first appearance of Silphymon.

Daisuke and V-mon

Now here’s a very like-minded pair, even more so than Taichi and Agumon -- and, after all, Daisuke is simple-minded, so painfully simple-minded that he’s practically incapable of hiding anything, and so V-mon is almost exactly like him, down to using the same ore pronoun and being feisty and mischievous (a point is also made that he plays soccer with Daisuke, something that Agumon didn’t necessarily do with Taichi), and, heck, in a rare show of Digimon-Digimon crushes, has a crush on Tailmon in the exact same way Daisuke has on Hikari. (By the time we get to Kizuna and its higher animation budget, a lot of attention is paid to having even their body language mirror each other.)

There is only one real functional difference between the two in disposition, and it’s that V-mon is very straightforward, friendly, and kind, without being prone to getting angry or spiteful at anyone, and in the end, it’s indicative of the fact that Daisuke’s tendency to lash out defensively at everyone is just a front -- at his core, he’s friendly, supportive, and kind. Daisuke’s experiences and banter with V-mon contribute to him getting the sort of validation he needed without having to worry about being on edge or lash out defensively, and because of that, he was able to form a healthier and more supportive relationship with the rest of the group.

Miyako and Hawkmon

This one seems to be a contrast right off the bat -- Miyako is bubbly, over-the-top, and rather messy and lacking in restraint, whereas Hawkmon is formal, graceful, and polite. But Hawkmon’s most prominent trait is his absolute loyalty and devotion to Miyako -- he’s very often referred to by both official staff and fans as her “knight” -- and is constantly minding her to protect her and make sure she doesn’t go over her head (most prominently, 02 episode 18). And as far as Miyako’s relationship to others goes -- she’s also devotedly loyal to everyone she loves and is constantly going out of her way to help others, and her character arc in itself is about the fact she wants to do her best to reach out to people and help emotionally support them in the best way she can, and Hawkmon managing to channel that to its utmost extent to Miyako in turn (in a very “who watches the watchman?” sense) allows her to regain her bearings and have better control over herself in the aftermath of 02 episode 18.

On top of that, as the series proceeds, it turns out that Hawkmon also shares Miyako’s penchant for dramatic theatrics and being a bit over his head -- even if he seemingly has himself more together than Miyako does, he’s not completely above it all...

Miyako is also the franchise’s first example of a female character with a masculine Digimon partner, and while Miyako herself openly identifies with and indulges in all things hyper-feminine, she also has zero issue engaging in more masculine-associated things as they suit her -- most prominently her Digital World outfit, and the fact she often displays a rather aggressive go-getter and hot-blooded/in-your-face personality that would not be out of place on a male shounen hero in a more conventional show. (Although, as much as these have generally been on the thread of “less visible aspects”, it’s not like this was that less visible of an aspect of her to begin with...)

Iori and Armadimon

Iori and Armadimon hold the honor of being the only pair in the Tokyo Chosen Children to be voiced by the same voice actress (Urawa Megumi), driving the parallel down even further. And while their surface temperaments seem different, with Iori being rather uptight and strict on himself while Armadimon is laid-back, carefree, and even somewhat assertive, they’re not that different -- Armadimon is basically the curious, impressionable, somewhat childish spirit that Iori would be if he weren’t constantly holding himself back. (There’s a lot to be said about Submarimon going out of his way to take Iori for a ride in 02 episode 16 so that Iori can finally properly enjoy himself for once.)

Iori takes a lot of very stubborn, no-compromise positions over the course of 02, but Armadimon asking just the right kinds of questions allows him to “snap out of it” and be a little more receptive to considering alternatives, or at least taking into account more emotionally-oriented issues he’s dealing with. You can say that Armadimon (especially as Upamon) softening Iori up a bit -- since Iori will never be cold or unforgiving towards his partner, no matter what -- serves as a precursor to Iori starting to question the limitations of his black-and-white view of morality, which allows him to successfully break through to Takeru and fill out the rest of his character arc.

Ken and Wormmon

Considering how much of the plot revolved around this one, this one almost goes entirely without saying! During Ken’s stint as the Kaiser, Wormmon represents the heart that Ken’s not entirely willing to leave behind -- and, also, the affection that he’s still craving from his family. The Kaiser going practically out of his way to deny Wormmon yet paradoxically keeping him around is basically his attitude towards his own “weak” and naturally kindhearted self. Notably, recall that the principle of “a Digimon will never deny their partner” applies here -- Wormmon’s “betrayal” of the Kaiser isn’t really any kind of denial, since he was doing it mainly for Ken’s own sake, and, more symbolically, it’s Ken reaching his own limit and coming to realize that this path isn’t what he really wants.

Wormmon is unusually clingy to his own partner over the course of 02, and it’s vital to Ken needing to learn to love himself and also getting important validation that he needs, especially during the critical point in time during 02 episodes 23-30 when he’s still not sure how to approach the rest of the group -- Wormmon gives him someone to talk to honestly and openly, giving him a proper springboard to sort out his complicated feelings about the others and himself. You can say also that as Ken becomes more open and straightforward over the course of the latter half of 02, he, in turn, becomes much more shameless about showing affection and opening his own heart.

Wallace, Gumimon, and Chocomon

Bonus round!

While it’s hard to fully apply Hurricane Touchdown to this theory (by official admission, it wasn’t properly cross-referenced with the original Adventure/02 series lore, and trying to correlate all of the evolutions in this movie to something metaphorical will give you a headache), Wallace’s two partners still fit very neatly into this overall theory of Digimon partners as a part of the self. Wallace is a character with very sharp duality, trying to be a flirt who asserts himself as a vagrant who’s about to “become an adult”, yet still feels an obligation to keep calling his mom and is engaging in increasingly self-destructive behavior.

Most pertinently, Gumimon and Chocomon represent the two stances Wallace is torn between: wanting to “return to the past” (Chocomon) because he’s still hung up on having lost Chocomon and is convinced that he can make everything just like it was before, and “being able to productively move on” (Gumimon). For most of the early parts of the movie, Wallace is stuck on Chocomon’s mentality of fixating on the past, and Gumimon isn’t even remotely subtle when he draws an explicit parallel between the two (saying that Chocomon didn’t like the heat, followed by offering to give Wallace shade as a hat). But once the conflict escalates and Wallace realizes just how deep in denial Chocomon is, to the point of being destructive to himself and others, Wallace comes to embrace Gumimon’s stance of practicality and moving on. In the end, the ultimate conclusion is reached, and Wallace is forced to fully accept that latter stance when Chocomon dies, but the movie’s ending (and Kizuna) provide an extra option: allowing the past to come back, but in a new form and treading new territory instead of trying to make it “the way it was before”.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #qwertyshuman #shihameta #shiha's ask box

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jokerscrazybrilliant · 3 years

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Survive - Chapter 4 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

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A03 · Quotev

________

“Master Anakin,” I was surprised to see him on the bridge as I entered. “I thought you would’ve been preparing your ship for battle.”

He turned to me with a small, excited smile. “Actually, Ahsoka is leading this assault.”

My eyes widened lightly in surprise. “Oh! That’s exciting.” I moved to join him and Rex at the holo-table that displayed the planetary blockade. "So, how come she gets her first command here before I do?!" I piped up lightheartedly.

"She's been training with me for longer." Anakin responded without looking at me.

"But I've been training for years!" I protested in dismay.

"But not with me." He turned to me with a small smirk.

"So what?! You don't believe in my abilities?"

"I only leave my squad with people I trust."

"So you don't trust me?!" My voice was between hilarity and hysteria as I stared at him in disbelief.

"I didn't say that exactly..." Anakin trailed off, grinning teasingly.

The captain tried but failed to hide his snickers at this, and I narrowed my eyes as I turned to glare at him. "What are youlaughing at?" I made my voice as threatening as I could as I stared daggers at him.

"Oh nothing, commander." He straightened up immediately, not quite able to maintain a straight face as I chased Anakin off the bridge towards the hangar bay, threatening him that he would soon learn what true regret is.

***

Anakin beat me to the hangar, wanting to check on Ahsoka before her first solo lead, and I followed soon after, walking over to where they were speaking, Ahsoka sitting in her red Jedi Fighter. “You nervous, Ahsoka?” I asked, smile on my face as I recalled my first time commanding a fighter squadron. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, and I remember the adrenaline that took over my veins in that first dogfight, leading my men over a separatist-occupied world.

“What is with you people?!” She threw her hands in the air frustratedly. Clearly, I had struck some sort of nerve.

“Sorry, sorry.” I laughed, holding my hands up in surrender. “Well then, are you feeling ready for your first command?”

“I hope so.” She muttered lightly.

“I believe she is.” Anakin gave her a warm, encouraging smile.

“I do too.” I grinned at her, trying to convey confidence to her somehow. “Trust in the force.” I told her, and she nodded pensively, taking a deep breath to calm herself before she began her assault. I left her there with her master, heading back to the bridge where I could oversee the battle with Master Skywalker and Admiral Yularen.

***

It was a trap. Four enemy cruisers had been waiting to reinforce the blockade, and the moment we launched our attack they made their entry. Ahsoka, too headstrong and determined to make her first mission a success, had not relented to Admiral Yularen and Master Skywalker’s orders to return to the ship until it was far too late, losing her entire squadron in the process.

I felt bad for her but didn’t blame her. When I was younger, I would’ve made the same mistake. Excited at the prospect of being seen as a proper leader, wanting to make my master proud… I could understand why she was so crushed. Losing your men for the first time was not an easy thing. The loss weighed heavy on your soul, even years after the fact. Their faces haunted your dreams…

Shaking myself out of my trance, I headed to the hangar bay once more to see what Master Skywalker was up to, after hearing he had called for the immediate evacuation of the starship Defender, one of our only two remaining cruisers.

“Master, what’s the deal? Why is the Defender evacuating?” I found him standing with Ahsoka in front of his shuttle, R2 waiting behind him on the ramp.

“Oh, Ahsoka will bring you up to speed on the plan.” He winked at me, turning to walk up the ramp, Rex following after him.

“Rex, you don’t have to come. I don’t intend to put anyone other than myself at risk here.” I raised my eyebrows at Anakin’s words. Just how risky was his new plan?

“Of course, Sir.” Rex ignored him, climbing up the ramp ahead of him, Anakin grinning in amusement at this.

“Alright. Then good luck with this plan Master. Oh, and Rex, keep an eye on him please.” I called to the captain.

“Of course, sir. Someone has to.” Anakin laughed at this and followed Rex onto the ship, ignoring Ahsoka’s frustrated calls as he left her and I in a hangar full of confused soldiers.

“Awaiting orders, commander.” The men peered at her curiously, unsure of what to do with the new commander in charge.

“I’ll be on the bridge…” Ahsoka backed away hesitantly, looking thankful when another soldier stepped in.

“You heard her men, back to work!” Quickly everyone went back to business as usual, and I followed Ahsoka to the lift.

“Everything alright?” I inquired concernedly as the doors hissed shut behind us.

She nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She muttered.

Before I could say anything else the doors opened back up to the bridge and Ahsoka walked out, me following after her slowly. I stood to the back slightly as I observed her debriefing, not liking how the men were doubting her explanations.

Master Skywalker’s brilliant plan was to try to ram his way though the blockade with the now evacuated Defender, taking down their major defenses and allowing for us to mount an attack with our remaining forces. It was by no means an ideal plan, but if Anakin were here to tell them, no one would question him. He would’ve gone through the debrief with such confidence the men would actually start to believe it might work.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, was having some trouble, understandably. She was young, and new to command, and she had just suffered a blow to her confidence when she lost her squadron. But this was an important lesson for her to learn, and I understood why Master Skywalker was pushing her like this. It was the only way to teach her to someday be a great Jedi Master. Either you could deal with the pressure, or you couldn’t.

“I wish General Skywalker had discussed this plan with us. The odds are very much against us.” The Lieutenant sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the holograms displayed in front of us.

“They always are.” Ahsoka murmured dismally, eyes lowered in defeat.

“Yes, but normally we have General Skywalker to lead us and–” My eyes widened at this, heart sinking as Ahsoka’s confidence sunk even further. “I meant no offense – commander.” The Lieutenant apologized quickly, realizing what his words insinuated. I bit my lip, watching the interaction before me. As much as I wanted to step in and defend Ahsoka, to lend her some of my strength, Anakin put her in charge for a reason. This was a learning chance for her, and she needed to find the strength and confidence to be a leader on her own. She needed to learn to trust herself.

“None taken.” Her eyes lowered to the floor, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was too soon for Anakin to be testing her in this manner. Her confidence had already taken a major hit when she lost her squad. I decided it wasn’t my choice. I simply had to trust Anakin’s instincts as a teacher. I also had to focus on his suicidal plan at the moment, and try to figure out how we would make that work.

“Just one problem.” I folded my arms as I stepped forward, closer to the circle, drawing everyone’s attention for a moment. “When Anakin takes out that command ship, how are we going to manage to destroy the remaining ships with our limited firepower?” I raised my brows lightly, inviting ideas, eyes focused on Ahsoka.

“I thought about that, and, well, I have an idea.” The corner of my lips curled up into a smile as Ahsoka brightened, realizing she had something to contribute.

“Go ahead, commander.”

“If we took the Resolute and angled her hull against the incoming frigates, the bridge and hangar deck would be relatively safe from their attack. We could draw them in and then use the bombers to outflank them. The bombers would be too fast, and they would be trapped.” Her eyes lit up as she pitched her idea, hope trickling into her force signature.

“I’m not sure about this, commander.” The Lieutenant quickly dismissed her idea, doubt littering his voice. “Perhaps a different strategy – we need more time to plan.”

“No!” Ahsoka cut in angrily, “We don’t have any more time! Master Skywalker needs me now! He needs us now.” I smiled proudly as she regained her resolve.

I opened my mouth to support her, but Admiral Yularen spoke up before I could, walking up to join us at the holo-table. “The commander is right. I know this strategy is very bold, but these circumstances call for drastic measures.”

“Then, the strategy will work, sir?”

Yularen turned to Ahsoka, brow raising to her. “Well, will it?”

“Yes, it will.” Ahsoka flashed him a grateful smile, and, the men reassured, we began preparations to set our plan in motion.

***

“I can’t believe that worked.” Ahsoka murmured to me, watching the new wave of our bombers taking out the remainders of the enemy fleet.

I chuckled at her admission. “Me neither.” I reached out, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “You did well Ahsoka. This success is yours. Now let’s go grab your master before he manages to get himself in trouble.” I gave her a warm smile as I headed over to the comm table, turning it on and switching it to Anakin’s frequency.

He appeared onscreen with a grin, a slightly disgruntled Rex behind him. “Nim, Snips! How did my plan go?”

“You mean you didn’t see Ahsoka utterly decimate the enemy?” I raised my eyebrows at him curiously.

“Yeah, about that. We were hit by an enemy ship, grazed, actually, and we’re fine, but we may have drifted off course…” He gave a slightly guilty smile as Rex gave a sigh behind him. “It was an accident!”

“You thought you could hit it and take it out without hurting our escape pod, sir.” I let out a small laugh at this, Ahsoka raising the heel of her palm to her forehead with a small, exasperated sound.

“Well, I’m sorry for trying to help my padawan in any way I can!” Anakin exclaimed, gesturing towards her in emphasis. “I didn’t realize these escape pods were so flimsy.” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s an escape pod, not a fighter.” I grinned at Anakin’s inability to stay out of a fight.

“Well, our beacon has been transmitting and we’re just waiting here for you to come get us.” I turned to Ahsoka, about to tell her we could take my ship to pick him up, before Anakin turned to look at something offscreen, catching my attention. “Oh, is that you already?”

I frowned at this, sharing a look of confusion with Ahsoka before looking back at Anakin. “That’s not us, what–” The comm froze and fizzed out, his image disappearing in front of us. “Ahsoka, update Admiral Yularen on the situation, have him scan our surroundings using long and short-range scanners and send out two shuttles to take opposite sectors and find that escape pod.”

Ahsoka nodded at me and turned, hurrying off to find the Admiral, and I took a breath, keeping any panic at bay as I formulated my thoughts on what could’ve happened to Anakin.

***

“We’ve been monitoring any transmissions, it doesn’t seem the separatists have–”

“None of our shuttles have found anything–”

“We’ve boosted signal to the scanners and still haven’t found any sign–”

“Commander! Incoming transmission.” I turned to the trooper and gave him a nod, dismissing the crew around me as I followed him into the transmission room, Ahsoka following behind me silently.

Masters Mace Windu and Obi-Wan were waiting for us onscreen, Obi-Wan turning and addressing us immediately as we walked in. “Nimra, Ahsoka, I’m glad to see you. I hear something about Anakin’s escape pod getting lost?”

I nodded at this. “His shuttle was damaged in his escape, and they were thrown off course. We were speaking to him when he seemed to think we found him, and his transmission was cut off. We’ve been searching for him with as many resources as we can afford right now, and we’ve been keeping an eye on any outgoing separatist transmissions. It doesn’t seem that they have him.”

Master Windu finally spoke up, looking at me as he conducted himself in his usual, serious manner. “I know that these are stressful times, but it is critical that you maintain the airspace in front of this planet in order for us to be able to successfully take the capital.”

“Understood, Master Windu.” I nodded to him respectfully.

“Let us know when you have any updates on the situation. That’ll be all.” With that the holograms disappeared, leaving me and Ahsoka in the empty room.

“We need to send more people to look for him – widen the scanner range!” Ahsoka’s anxious voice cut through the silence.

I shook my head at her gently. “You heard what Master Windu said, we need to maintain this airspace. We will keep monitoring all comms and scanners, but we can’t afford sending out more ships, we need them here. Anakin will manage just fine. Besides, Rex is with him. He’ll keep him out of trouble.” I gave her a small smile, and she tried to contain her disappointment as she let out a small, frustrated huff, nodding to me obediently before going back out to the bridge.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting out a small plea for patience into the force before following out after her.

***

After another eighteen hours straight on the bridge, monitoring all movements and squads, Admiral Yularen finally forced me off the bridge, pulling rank and demanding I take some time to rest, which, as I so helpfully pointed out, I did not need. But alas, I made my way to my quarters and laid in bed for a fitful two hours before giving up and exiting my room once more, wandering the halls until I found myself in the hangar bay.

With most fighters either deployed or in the repair space, the rest of the bay was fairly empty. Slowly, I trudged over to where my own personal ship sat. The Aa’kua, which translated to ‘respect’ in basic. It was an old Corellian word, and one of the few ways I ever tied myself to my planet of origin. I didn’t remember anything of Corellia, I was only a youngling when I was found and brought into the order and I hadn’t returned there since. However occasionally I would find myself wondering about it. Maybe I had some family there that was missing me. I would never know. So instead I learned some old Corellian words, ales and recipes.

I looked up at the ship, tracing my fingers along the custom painted teal hull. It was a Theta-class T2c shuttle that had been retrofitted with particle shields as well as more powerful ray shields. The hull of the ship was larger than usual to account for and house where I had equipped proton torpedoes. It was originally a personal transport shuttle, one typically used by senators to transport them to and from Coruscant’s surface, but I made sure it was ready for battle.

With nothing to do and no intention to go back to my desolate quarters, cracked open one of the ship’s panels and searched for any repairs that could consume my attention for even a moment.

***

It had been a few days since Anakin’s escape pod went missing. Master Obi-Wan’s mission was a success, and Master Windu was about to mount his attack on the capital when we got a message from him telling us the separatists had begun attacking innocent civilian communities, bombers attacking entire cities at a time. “We need you to take them out.”

I bowed my head to him. “Yes master.” Exiting the communications room, I knew I would need Ahsoka to help me if we were to eliminate the enemy forces quickly enough to help Master Windu. We had limited resources and needed every last hand on deck.

I commed her to let her know to meet me in the shuttle bay and I got the men ready to deploy in two flights. One under my command, and one under Ahsoka’s.

“You called for me?” I turned to find Ahsoka looking up at me, eyes flickering from me to the ships behind me, men prepping fighters for flight.

“Yes. Master Windu needs us to provide air support on the planet’s surface. The separatists have begun attacking innocent civilians.”

“But Master Skywalker–”

“We will find him, Ahsoka, I promise you. You have a strong bond with him. Search through the force, can you feel him?” I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to go through the exercise with her.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you know he’s okay. We both know Anakin can take care of himself, but right now those separatists are attacking innocent people, and they need us. They can’t protect themselves, so we must protect them. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Nimra.”

“Good. My squadron will cover the north, and the planet’s capital, but I need you to lead your men and destroy whatever ships are in the south.”

“We’ll destroy every last one of those bombers.” I smiled at her determination.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

***

We managed to destroy all the bombers successfully, and in time to make Master Windu’s plan a success, and once we saw them safely take the capital, we made our way back to our cruiser. Charger found me before I even made my way down the ladder as I descended from my Jedi Fighter. “Commander Sayla, Admiral Yularen wants you in the communications room urgently. Something about General Skywalker.”

I gave him a quick nod, thanking him before I gestured for Ahsoka to follow as I made my way to the lift. “What’s this about?” She asked after hurrying to join me.

I shrugged and the lift took us up to the bridge. We quickly hurried across the bridge, catching glances from the officers around us as we made our way into the small comm room where Admiral Yularen already stood, arms folded neatly behind his back as he observed the hologram before him.

The weequay turned to us as we entered, grinning as he spoke. “Welcome, welcome, my friends.”

Admiral Yularen turned as well, and I looked to him with a raised brow. “Who is this?”

The weequay lifted his hat and bowed, brandishing it dramatically as he introduced himself. “I am Hondo Ohnaka, at your service!”

My second brow rose at this, confused by who this person was or why we were speaking to him.

“This bounty hunter claims to have gained custody of General Skywalker.” The Admiral informed us, and I quickly raised a hand to restrain Ahsoka. I gave her a look that told her to stay silent, and stood forward as this ‘Hondo Ohnaka’ gave an offended gasp at the Admiral’s statement.

“Don’t insult me! We are pirates! And I do not claim to have, I have him!” He gestured behind him, flopping into a chair and propping his feet as the hologram expanded to show some of his background, including a handcuffed Anakin. He looked to be unharmed, apart from his damaged ego, giving a sheepish smile as he waved a hand. Anakin disappeared from the transmission again as the focus went back to Hondo. “We found a damaged escape pod and so kindly rescued it, and now we are returning your master jedi to you safely. I have already been talking to this Admiral of yours about the small matter of… payment, for our services, you know, fuel can be so expensivethese days.”

"What about the captain that was with Master Skywalker in the escape pod? Where is he?"

The pirate fiddled with his hands for a moment. "Ah yes, well you see, that is kind of a funny story, actually." He stood from his chair dramatically as his speech became more animated. "Someone managed to get away with him. Presumably, he had an arrangement with some third party. He tried to take both my guests and flee, but we managed to stop him! Partially, anyway."

"Who managed to get away with him?" My eyes narrowed as my patience waned thin, growing more and more frustrated with how at ease this pirate seemed to be, like we were old friends or colleagues.

"One of my men, one of my own crew – betrayedme! Oh – I taught them so well. But that does mean I have no idea where your friend is. But at least we have the Jedi!" He grinned widely, gesturing at where we had previously seen Anakin off to the side.

"If you harm him, you will regret it. I swear to you." The animosity in my voice surprised even myself. I wasn't sure which part of me this was coming from, but it certainly wasn't the rational part. The rational part of my brain was citing everything Master Obi Wan and Master Diya had ever taught me about patience and being the bigger person, to no avail.

"Oh–" the pirate gasped and brought a hand up to his chest. "You offend me! There is no need for threats here, believe me. We are a civilised people, we do not require that sort of thing. This Master Jedi will have our best treatment! So long as you bring the payment of course." The pirate gave a final smile and little wave before shouting at someone in the background to end the transmission.

I brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose for a moment. "How much do they want?"

"They are asking for one million credits."

"I will ask the Council on how to proceed." I received a nod from him before exiting the bridge.

***

I sent word to my informant to look for any information on Rex’s whereabouts, and the council sanctioned the credits to trade for Master Skywalker. And since we were no longer needed on Ryloth, we made our way to the coordinates to collect our wayward General. It took some convincing Ahsoka that we would simply make the trade rather than fighting these pirates for Anakin, but she was learning patience the hard way.

As was I. "Any word back from Cid yet?" Echo pulled my out of my thoughts, drawing my eyes away from my cup of caf. I shook my head bleakly. "And you trust this bounty hunter?"

"Cid isn't a bounty hunter, Cid is more of a... Third party coordinator. And yes, all the info I've gotten in the past has been good. I haven't been betrayed yet." I gave him a sarcastic smile.

My private comm flashed and I jumped to me feet. "Might be Cid, I've got to take this." I didn't wait for his nod of acknowledgement as I made my way out of the mess hall, stepping into a quiet corner to answer my comm.

Cid appeared before me, sitting behind her desk, as usual. "You have the intel I asked for?" I asked, trying not to let myself sound too hopeful.

"Well, some of it. I've got a location. Not sure who the bounty hunter is but according to some chatter I picked up, the exchange will take place on the planet Karkaris. And soon."

My eyebrows raised at this information. Karkaris was in the Nilgaard sector, only a few parsecs away but we were due to meet with Master Skywalker's captor for an exchange and if we veered off course there was no way we'd make it on time. And, of course, there was the small matter of Karkaris being a separatist planet, but that was a whole other set of roadblocks.

"Alright. Thank you, Cid, I'll transfer your credits now."

She peered at me over her desk, uncharacteristically concerned. "Everything alright, meddler?" I smiled at the nickname she had given me when I fixed her broken dejarik table without her asking when we first met. She couldn't seem to wrap her head around why I would fix someone else's things for free.

I gave her a small nod now, feeling slightly reassured now that I knew Rex wasn't hopelessly lost to the galaxy. "Everything is fine Cid, thank you. Take care of yourself." I gave her a final smile and shut off the communicator, heading up to the bridge to discuss my new information with Ahsoka and Admiral Yularen.

***

"We don't know what we're getting into with this pirate business, and our fleet is severely depleted. We cannot split the fleet and go into separatist controlled space with no plan or backup. We'll simply have to conduct our arrangement, get General Skywalker back, and then we can intercept Captain Rex's location." I frowned at Admiral Yularen's words, hating the finality in his tone. He had already made up his mind.

"But my informant stated that the exchange would happen soon, and we need to be there when it happens."

His expression remained neutral as he stared at me and I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. "Alright. If you won't deploy any of your fleet, I'll take my own ship. I can't risk missing the exchange. You get Anakin and I'll head to Captain Rex's position. I'll rendezvous with you once I have him."

Not waiting for anyone's approval, I turned and stalked off the bridge, sighing deeply once I passed through the doors.

It's okay. It's just me versus one bounty hunter, how hard can this be?

***

Very hard, the answer was very hard!

"Flopsy, divert power to the thrusters and jam that ship's communications!" I shouted at my astromech, struggling to keep up my maneuvers as the bounty hunter shot rapid fire in our direction.

"Rex's thank you better be worth it," I grumbled as we took another hit, Flopsy immediately beeping its response at me. "No, I know he's my friend, but I am going into overtime here!" I joked, then sighed as I tried not to worry about his condition, whether he was safe and in one piece or not. "If this bounty hunter has laid a single kriffing finger on him they are gonna wish they had born a protocol droid." I narrowed my eyes at the ship in front of me, which was making its way to the planets surface below us.

Flopsy told me that the ship was landing at a port near what appeared to be a small separatist ship, meaning clankers. "I am really starting to wish I had some backup here." I complained as we landed the ship not too far from where the action would take place.

I told Flopsy to watch the ship and quickly headed down, stealthily moving over to where the transaction was taking place. I bit my lip as I watched the bounty hunter head down from his ship dragging a hovering carbonite slab behind him with a familiar form encased inside it. He headed to the centre where a seppy was standing, surrounded by a small platoon of droids, standard B1s with two rows of super droids behind them.

It did not look pleasant, but I knew I could handle it. My mind was more on which angle would be best to have all their fire directed away from Rex’s position, and quickly I made my way to the optimal point, slowly moving closer. The sleazeball separatist handed over a case of what I assumed to be spice over to the bounty hunter, and as he set the carbonite down, I made my move. Jumping down to my feet just behind the squad of droids, I took out three super droids with one slash, moving to another two before my moves were even registered.

The slower droids finally turned to me, firing immediately, drawing the attention of the separatist and the bounty hunter, who grabbed his spice and made for his ship, loyally calling out to his employer, “I believe our transaction is concluded!”

I moved through the droids and directly intercepted the seppy, who, predictably, dove for cover as he saw me approaching, dropping Rex where I could quickly drag him back to where the Aa’kua was waiting, Flopsy keeping her ready for takeoff. "It's just me saving everyone's kriffing skins." I mumbled under my breath, deflecting a blaster shot back and the droid who sent it.

I shoved the hovering carbonite slab up the ramp ahead of me, deflecting lasers at the base as I shouted up to Flopsy, “Get us out of here now!” I staggered up the surface as it moved to close, the ship humming excitedly as it moved from the ground.

The door latched shut and I shut my lightsaber off, attaching it to my hilt then moving to check on Rex. The small interactive pad on the side told me his vitals were being held stable, so I hurried to the cockpit to set us into hyperspace before I worried about him.

“Have you calculated the jump?” I fell into my seat and turned to the controls, diverting power to the rear shields and stabilizers as I felt the ship thunder around us. Those droids were relentless, two small fighters following us into the atmosphere. Flopsy beeped affirmatively at me, and I nodded, taking us higher so we could make the jump.

We made it out of the planet’s atmosphere, and I flipped the ship around in a violent one-eighty turn, firing on the droid fighters the moment they met my sights, obliterating them on impact. Huffing in satisfaction, I turned us back around, checking that all systems were a go before pushing the lever to launch us into hyperspace.

Once we were safely underway, I left the controls with Flopsy, heading back down to unlock the captain from his carbonite confines. I set the slab up vertically, moving to the sides and fiddling with the controls. I couldn’t read whatever language it was written in, but I had a guess as to what buttons corresponded to which controls, so soon enough I heard the hissing noise that meant I was successful.

“Ach–” I stepped back, the vapour clogging my throat as the carbonite dissipated. I heard a groan and a concerning thump, and the air cleared to reveal a crumpled Rex on the floor of the storage bay. I hurried to him, laying his head down on my leg and looking him over for any injuries. I took in a blaster wound in his side, the carbonite couldn’t have helped that.

"Rex? Rex? Easy there captain, you don't look too good." I stopped him from trying to sit up, he looked pale and feverish.

"C-commander Sayla?" His voice was hoarse, and he was shivering. This was not good.

"I'm here, I'm right here Rex." I tried to sound reassuring as I looked around, trying to recall where I had stuffed the deactivated medical droid I had aboard the ship.

"I can't see." He tried not to sound too panicked, but I could still feel it. Reassuringly I put my hand on his armoured shoulder.

"That’s alright, it’s only temporary. I think you have hibernation sickness, let's get you up on the bed and I'll activate the med-droid to have a look at you." I moved to carry him using the force but the moment he felt the pressure around him he protested.

“I can stand!” He protested, making me chuckle.

“You’re injured, and sick, don’t make me pull rank captain, just sit still for a minute.” I smiled as he grit his teeth, and quickly carried him using the force, keeping him still as I moved him to the small med-pod onboard. I set him in the bed and quickly searched for the med-droid, finding it folded and tucked away neatly in a corner.

I quickly pulled it open and clicked it on, but it turned on and frizzled out of life within moments, some of the wires in the back sparking as it died. I turned it over on the floor and observed the frayed wires, rolling my eyes in annoyance. “What happened?” The captain tried to keep his voice light.

“Droid’s wires are damaged, I have spares, give me a minute to go grab them.” I left him and the damaged droid and went to the small room I had filled to the brim with spare parts. I ignored the pile of metal scraps that tumbled to the floor as the door opened for me, stepping over the mess as I made my way to a back corner where all types and tangles of wires lay. I quickly found a colourful bundle that would do the trick and grabbed a spanner on my way to the med-pod. I rolled my eyes as I walked in, realizing he must have sat himself up when I was gone.

Flinging myself onto the floor I crossed my legs, beginning work on the droid. "I don't know why they had to take the whole fleet for Skywalker, but whatever." I grumbled to myself as I ripped out the damaged wiring impatiently.

"You forget, we clones were bred to be expendable."

"Don't say that. It's not true." I disagreed furiously, glaring into his unfocused eyes. "It's not. Not to anyone who knows you. I would gladly give my life for yours – or Fives, or Kix, or any other soldier, so don't you say that."

He said nothing, face incomprehensible as he stared ahead intently. Satisfied, I went back to work trying to replace the wiring as quickly as I could, trying not to think about the fact that I just told him I was willing to die for him.

I moved back with a triumphant huff as the droid finally buzzed to life. It stood slowly, then began scanning me before I redirected it. "That's the patient," I said, pointing at Rex. "Blaster wound and suspected hibernation sickness."

"Understood. I will begin scanning the patient and then select the best possible treatment." With that it forced him to lay down on the cot, then beginning its scans.

I got up and put away the tools and scrap parts before making my way to the door, figuring I'd check on Flopsy and the ship while the droid worked on Rex.

"Commander?" His voice stopped me just before I made it out of the room, and I leaned back in to respond to him.

"Yes, captain?"

"For what it's worth, I'd give my life for yours as well, sir." A small smile graced my lips at this, and I bowed my head to him respectfully, even though he couldn't see it.

"It's worth a lot more than you know, captain. Now rest up, I'll check in on you later." Finally, I managed to make my exit, thinking about his words on my way to the cockpit.

It's Rex, he'd sacrifice himself for any innocent. It doesn't mean anything special. It's just Rex being Rex. I knew this to be true, and yet I could not stop the flaming blush from reaching my cheeks or the nervous flipping of my stomach. He hadn't even done anything out of the ordinary for him and yet he had reduced me to a jittery mess.

Stars help me. I was screwed.

***

After checking that everything with the ship was doing fine, I switched on the ship's comm, switching to my desired channel.

"Nim, I'm glad to see you." Kix's image appeared in front of me, and his smile set me at ease. "Any luck with the info on Captain Rex?"

I nodded at him, anxieties rising to the surface as I thought about the state of the injured captain. "Yes, I have him, but he has hibernation sickness, and the kriffing nerf herder that stuck him in carbonite shot him first and I don't have any bacta to patch him with. I've activated the med-droid, but I don't know how much it can do with the little I have onboard, kriff, Kix why haven't you taught me more first aid skills?"

"Woah, Nim, calm down!" He laughed at my panic which only aggravated me farther.

"This isn't funny! It's your captain's life on the line." I crossed my arms at Kix with a small frown.

"Sorry Nim, I'm not laughing at you it's just... Take a breath." He smiled at me, and I lost my frown immediately, unable to stay angry with him. "Rex will be fine. Everything went smoothly on our end, and we have General Skywalker. We're making our way to the rendezvous coordinates and once we meet you there, I will personally make sure Rex has enough bacta to last him a lifetime."

I gave him a small appreciative smile, feeling much calmer than before. "Well, I'm enroute to you now so, I'll see you soon, I guess. You're certain he'll be alright until then?"

"Trust me, the captain's been through worse."

"Thanks, Kix."

"Not a problem Nimra."

***

I traded off Rex to Kix when I arrived at the hangar bay, then quickly made my way to where I knew I would find Anakin, on the bridge. “Nim!” Anakin squeezed my shoulder, giving me a warm smile as he greeted me, Ahsoka by his side. “Thank you for holding the fort while I was gone.”

“Of course, Master.” I returned his smile, relieved to see him back and completely unharmed.

“You know better than to call me that, Nim. How is Rex?”

“Well, he had a minor blaster wound, and he has hibernation sickness from the carbonite the bounty hunter stuck him in. Kix said he should be fine, but I’m going to go check on him in med-bay now. See how he’s enjoying his stay there.” I grinned devilishly. “You know how much he enjoys being stuck in bed rest.” Anakin gave a laugh at this, nodding.

“Alright, sounds good. Leave some teasing for me, I’ll come down once I’m done here.” I nodded at him and shared a quick smile with Ahsoka before heading back down to the med-bay. A small gaggle of clones, including Echo and Fives, were leaving the area as I was entering, no doubt having just been there to welcome back their devoted captain.

I smiled as I entered, taking in Rex’s familiar form on one of the cots near the wall. He was fast asleep. I drew closer, Kix immediately coming to join me, holo-pad in his hand. “How is he?”

“Resting. I’ve treated his blaster wound and giving him medicine for the carbon fever. He’ll be up and running by tomorrow.” Kix drew a chair and gestured to it. “Sit.”

“I’m fine Kix, injury free.” At his disapproving face I took a seat, frowning right back up at him.

“Yeah, I know.” He thrusted a ration bar in my face. “Eat.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a bite ruefully, trying not to show how hungry I really was. “Fine. But give me your holo-pad, I’m not going to sit here with nothing to do.” Kix grinned at this, handing it over before returning to one of his other patients. I finished the bar before taking turns working on my mission report and stealing glances and Rex’s unconscious form.

***

Voices reached me through a haze. I knew my eyes were closed but I was too tired to open them yet, reveling in the warmth of sleep that hadn’t come to me in so long.

"I don't think she's slept since you two went missing sir. I've never seen her like that before. She oversaw everything, made sure everyone was okay, but I don't think she was resting or eating right. I tried my best to keep an eye on her."

"Thank you, Kix."

"Of course, General." I heard Kix’s footfalls as he walked away, and slowly cracked my eyes open to see Anakin standing there, giving me an all to knowing look.

“I’m just – I just wanted to make sure he didn’t die on my watch.” I tried to ignore his smug look.

“Sure. Whatever you say.” He chuckled, patted me on the back, then left before I could protest whatever assumptions he was making in his head.

I adjusted myself in the uncomfortable chair, pulling out my holo-pad to continue filling out the report but ended up staring ahead, falling into my thoughts. I had befriended the members of this battalion so easily, we got along so well, but was I growing too attached? Was my connection to these clones affecting my judgement? Was it leading to something that might be wrong?

"Commander?" A voice jolted me out of my stupor, and I looked down to see Rex looking at me tiredly with a slightly surprised expression at seeing me there.

"Rex! I'm glad you're finally up – and you can see me!” I hated the way relief so heavily coloured my voice. Did I truly sound so desperate or was it just in my head? Feeling the need to say something lest I get consumed by my thoughts, I gave Rex my best winning smile, holding up my holo-pad. "I don't suppose you want to help me fill in my mission report?"

"I can assume you've only filled in your name and about half a sentence?" He raised a brow at me quizzically.

"That would be a safe assumption, yes. Although come to think of it, I may have forgotten to sign my name." I grinned widely at him.

He groaned as he sat himself up in bed, favouring his injured side as he moved. "I'm gonna need more pain meds." He half-joked.

"Can I pawn some off you?" At his dubious expression I raised my hands in mock surrender. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding... I can just get them off Kix, eliminate the middleman and all that." I laughed at his expression, my amusement subsiding as he became serious, holding my gaze.

“Thank you.” He said earnestly. “For coming for me.”

“You would do the same for me.” I gave him a serious nod before reverting back to sarcasm. “And if you really want to thank me you can help me fill out my report.”

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ahb-writes · 2 years

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Book Review: ‘The Genius Prince’s Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt’ #7

The Genius Prince's Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt (Hey, How About Treason?), Vol. 7 by Toru Toba My rating: 5 of 5 stars For the first time in a long time, nobody wants Wein Salema Arbalest hanging around. Everybody knows the eastern half of the Varno Continent is in chaos, having neared three full years without consensus emperorship. Everybody knows the three major factions, guided by the three crown princes, each possess its own strengths (Demetrio, the eldest, holds sway with traditionalists; Bardloche, stubborn, oversees the military; Manfred, youngest and silver-tongued, is the face of nouveau riche). The Earthworld Empire is in chaos, and this chaos has its known variables. So why in the heck is Wein sitting in a strategy meeting among the princes in a city outside the imperial capital? GENIUS PRINCE . . . #7 is an excellent blend of military schema, good old fashioned castle politics, and brazen inter-territorial statecraft. This is the type of story most readers of the novel series fell in love with at the onset and have thus craved ever since. Wein finds his delegation ensnared in Lowellmeina's multifaceted trap. Will he aide one of her troubled (incompetent) brothers' ascent to the throne? Will he draft the blueprint for their downfall? Will he assume responsibility for his role in either destinies? Lowa may have set things in motion by encouraging Wein to visit the Earthworld Empire during such a tumultuous event, but the young woman doesn't quite realize how capricious of a variable she's thrown into play. Because, in truth, due to past and recent events, everyone worth their salt absolutely and resolutely fears the crown prince of Natra. Wein's reputation precedes him. He's intelligent and resourceful, yes. But he's also unquestionably ruthless. He doesn't hesitate to draw his blade. And he manifests escape routes for every scenario not because he knows he'll need it, but because he's clever enough to know the number of ways everyone else's plans tend to go to crap. So, Demetrio, Bardloche, and Manfred bicker to the brink of civil war. Lowa rides the waves of domestic uncertainty to raise her profile. And Wein is forced into position as an unwitting arbiter and dealmaker. This is the stage for GENIUS PRINCE . . . #7. Wein knows he's in a tough spot, but his navigation of difficulty isn't what marks this novel as particularly brilliant. What's fascinating is how everyone else acts or reacts to the mere knowledge that Wein is in the next tent over, strategizing away. Glen Markham, devoted to Demetrio, is an old friend. He thinks he knows Wein well enough to sniff out the man's multi-front distractions. But can Glen convince others he's on the right trail? Strang Nanos, devoted to Manfred, is another old friend. He's confident he can hit Wein's flank before Wein himself can outflank their forces. But will thinking two or three steps ahead be sufficient? This novel privileges the strategy and tactics that make Wein the exceptionally arrogant and exceptionally capable ruler he is. He's often caught off guard, but he readily adapts. He accepts that others know and fear him, but he manipulates them because of it. He's careful with his language and compassionate with his rhetoric, but unyielding with his intentions. Wein doesn't care who becomes the next emperor of the Earthworld Empire. He's fighting for Natra. He's fighting for himself. But if he loses? Well, then everyone should anticipate that it won't be a single army, or a random holy site, that will burn to the ground. Everyone, indeed, absolutely everyone, will succumb to the flames of his sympathy.

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rwbyvein · 3 years

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Firen Lhain: Chapter 1010: Vigilance: Part II / III

Brigadier General Tsagaan sat in front of the screen with all of his commanders looking at him. The commanders of the AAS Ornst and AAS Vayne, Colonel Hayford of the engineering company, Specialist Chrysanta for the infantry, and 2nd Lieutenant Hereford for the Paladins. "I have been speaking with the Huntsmen, and have a new battle plan. One Robot will consolate on this prominence." A map appeared on the screen. "All around protection, infantry divided into three fighting sections, each flanked by Paladins. The Weapons Detachment will site with the 3rd Section, which will have two Ironman Paladins, to the rear of the formation. In front of the prominence will be the Huntsman's vanguard, with the rearguard in the shadow of the relief. Their airship will carry a force in reserve. Another group of Huntresses will act as bait, and lure the Beowulves. SWOR will combine with their numbers for this operation. Their callsign is Rainbow, and the operational time is up to 5 days, afterwhich I will reevaluate. I will leave all other details up to the unit commanders."

* * *

The warriors of Arc Nouveau stood in the shadow of the relief as the airships from the 1st Robotic Brigade Group unloaded up above them.

"So, like, what do we do now?" Yang asked.

"Hm?" Jaune asked, "Weiss."

"While our compariotes lure the enemy in." Weiss stated.

"The huh?" Ruby asked.

Blake hugged Ruby from behind, "The us." Blake quietly said in her ear.

"OOOH!" Ruby exclaimed.

"The vanguard stands ready to fight." Ciel stated. "The rearguard to support and make sure they are not outflanked. We have an entire roboticized brigrade group providing overwatch."

"How can you sound so blasée and determined at the same time?" Yang asked her.

"The obvious answer would be practice." Ciel replied.

Weiss stepped up, looking between the two, "The obvious answer would be that our little automoton indeed has a heart of gold."

"Unlike Jaune, who's got a heart of hart." Yang said, with a self-satisfied smirk.

"His heart is the heart of the hart of the forest." Ciel neutrally said to her.

Yang simply looked at her for a moment before smiling.

Weiss then turned to Ruby and Blake, "What I wish to know is how you will signal that a force of Grimm is on the approach."

Blake stepped beside Ruby, "By blowing a kiss, of course."

"Of course." Weiss said, trying her best to not be judgemental.

"Or Ruby could howl." Yang stated.

"Or I could howl?!" Ruby exclaimed, as he tail wagged and her head nodded.

Jaune then turned to the rearguard, "What I need to know is that everyone is going to be ready?"

"And how should we maintain this readiness?" Weiss asked.

"Two per watch." Jaune simply stated.

"M'Lord?" Hugh asked, and saluted.

"Uh, yeah?" Jaune asked.

"We White Knights do not require slumber."

"But what about Penthesi?" Ruby asked, "I mean, she sleeps."

Jaune glared at Hugh while looming closer and closer.

"I... apologize..." Hugh nervously stated, "We do require some sleep, but can maintain a vigil throughout it."

"Vigilance is definitely something we will need in abundance." Weiss quipped, and Jaune nodded his head.

"But, if it affects your abilities, I will be?.."

"Yes?" Ruby asked.

"Not mad..." Jaune voiced.

"Crossed?" Weiss asked.

"Uh, yeah." Jaune replied.

"We promise not to risk our combat effectiveness." Hugh augustly reply.

"I will hold you to it." Jaune replied.

* * *

Ruby dashed through the woods on all fours as Blake jumped from tree to tree above her, occasionally using Gambol Shroud to swing.

The Vanguard, (Jaune, Yang, Gog, and the White Knights), stood between the tree line and the relief behind them, a relief covered in Knights, and soldiers, and Paladins.

"So?" Yang asked, "What do we do? Get ready?"

"Wait." Gog's great voice echoed.

"You mean do nothing?"

"Hold a vigil." Jaune stated, "One of the hardest things we have to do."

"Why's that?" Yang nervously asked.

"We have to be ready to fight at any moment." Jaune stated. "We can't do anything that interferes with that, but, if we just sit around..."

"We'll get lazy." Yang stated. "'a'ight. But you know I'm not good at just sittin' down and doin' nut'ing. Maybe if we cuddle?" she asked. Jaune looked distantly down the slope before looking back to her.

"Sure?" Jaune asked, and Ciel walked up behind them.

"What's up, Tock?" Yang asked her.

"If you are to be cuddling, I am unsure of how a signaller should act?" Ciel asked, and Gog let out a single, powerful, echoing laugh.

"You saying you want to cuddle with us?" Yang asked.

"I am not." Ciel simply stated.

"You're not denying it either." Yang accusingly said to her, as she leaned down to look into her eyes.

"I am not." Ciel replied. "And was tantalizingly presenting your cleavage intentional?"

Yang stood back up, "Wait, what?"

"They - are.." Gog voiced, letting his deep voice echo, "Substantial."

"Wait, what?" Yang asked.

"Are you stating that you are ignorant to the execessive exuberance or your excelsior, exergonic, expulsive protuberances?" Ciel emphatically asked.

"My what?" Yang asked. "Wait, was that just a bunch of fancy to ways to say you love my breasts?"

"Indeed?" Ciel simply stated. "They are, by all standard criteria, excellent examples of phenominal salients."

"It seems she really likes your breasts." Jaune stated, and Gog just stood behind them with a phenominal smile.

Ciel then turned towards Jaune, "And you are, in no uncertain terms, the greatest example of masculine perfection I have ever laid my eyes upon."

"My what?" Jaune asked, and blushed, looking about nervously.

Yang looked to Gog, who was still smiling brightly. "You not getting, I don't know, judgy about our relationship, are you?"

"I - have - not - yet - decided - what - your - relationship - is." Gog replied.

"And?" Yang asked.

"But." Gog stated.

"But?" Yang asked.

"I - have - decided - one - thing."

"Which is?" she curiously asked, eagerly leaning towards him.

"It - is - good." Gog replied.

Yang stood back up and smiled, before her smile turned into worry. She turned to look at Ciel. "Now I am worried."

"It shows on your face." Ciel replied.

"You've never been this chatty before?" Yang asked.

"You have never spoken to me this much before?" Ciel asked.

"Wait, what?" Yang asked.

"Indeed." Ciel replied.

"I'm sure." Yang sincerely replied, "It's just that..."

"My statement was not meant with judgement." Ciel neutrally replied, "As you as well noted, well enough to include it in my nickname, I am not the most verbose."

"Unless we get you going?" Yang asked.

"Precisely." Ciel added, "As such, our lack of interaction was not taken as an insult. In truth, I find the excessive amount of verbage normally required to maintain a relationship... perturbing."

"You're starting to sound like Weiss." Yang chided.

"Thank you." Ciel sincerely said to her.

"Is there, like, nothing I can do to insult you?" Yang asked.

"If you truly wished to insult me, I have no doubt you would find a way." Ciel replied, and Yang looked at her nervously, "But you are too kind to ever consider such a thing; as such, I would not consider anything you say to me to be insulting."

"You sure about that?" Yang asked, and Jaune slapped her on the butt.

"Positive." Ciel replied, "Since my exhalted entry into your family, you have been nothing but kind and accepting of my?.." she said, and momentarily paused for thought, "faults."

"Faults?" Yang asked, "You're like practically perfect in every way. Like, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

"I thank you for your amazing praise, M'Lady."

"My what?" Yang asked. "Oh, right, Knight..."

"Dame." Ciel stated, "But, my focus on communicating when logically necessary causes me to often omit commication when socially necessary. You have been incredibly gracious in never pointing out my social failings."

"But, like?.." Yang asked, "I mean, I call you, like, Gabby, and Tick-Tock."

"Gabby refers to my terse method of communication, which is entirely accurate." Ciel stated, "While Tick-Tock refers to my robot movements and nature, most salient when with Penthesilea."

"But, like?.." Yang nervously asked, her scales slowly turning red.

"Both were meant as terms of endearment, and I have accepted them as such."

Yang's flush turned from red to orange, and breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes then opened wide with shock, "Wait a minute, we were talking about your attempts to get between me, and my, what did Weiss call you?" she asked Jaune, whom simply shrugged in reply.

"Beau." Ciel stated.

Yang emphatically pointed at her, "Yes, that's it. Wait, I mean..."

Ciel raised her hand, and Yang stopped speaking, "I have made my intentions clear."

"What intentions?" Yang asked, "Wait, you have?"

"I have no objections to joining your family as one of the concubines."

"WHAT?" Yang asked, "But, what if I?.. I mean?.."

"If you object, and you do, then I will and do accept it as valid." Ciel stated.

"Don't you have anyone else you like, or something?" Yang asked.

"I, as of present, do not." Ciel simply stated. "Nor have I truly ever. I believe my terse prose provides ample linguistic barrier."

Gog stepped towards the group, "She's - saying - that - she's - never - been - able - to - start - a relationship."

"Wait, what?" Yang asked.

"If I must ask?" Ciel asked, "How is that at all surprising?"

"It's, but, I mean, you are like a really cute, and..." Yang trailed off.

"Not everyone is as outgoing as you." Jaune stated.

"Like you're complaining?" Yang asked.

"You did pull the family together." Jaune stated.

"Don't underestimate what you did." Yang replied with a bright orange flush.

"He is not." Ciel simply stated, "Just stating that many, if not most, do not have your courage in such regards."

"Is that really bravery?" Yang asked.

"Indeed." Ciel replied.

"But what about, like?.." Yang asked, and paused a moment, "What about Taj?" she asked, and Ciel developed a sour look.

"While I will not insult his abilities as a pilot..." Ciel voiced, "And his abilities as a pilot are perhaps because of his nature, but..."

"But?" Yang asked.

Ciel stood upright, "His non-chalance is frustrating." Ciel simply stated.

"Maybe you just need to loosen up?" Yang asked.

"Mayhap I do." Ciel replied.

"Or - find - someone - as - tightly - wound - as - she - is?" Gog stated.

"Or perhaps somewhere in the middle?" Ciel asked, and adjusted her Hard-Light Dust glasses. "In the mean time, simply know that I will never be the one to press my entry into your relationship."

"She''s - too - shy." Gog powerfully stated.

Ciel turned to him with a blush in her cheeks, "That is perhaps a reason." She then turned to Yang, "But I also have the greatest respect for all of you and your relationship."

"Even Blake?" Yang asked.

"She is curious..." Ciel voiced.

"And you know what that means?" Yang asked with a cheshire grin.

"But she is commited to learning from her mistakes and improving herself, in her attempts to improve the world."

"You think she can succeed?" Yang asked.

"Not if she does not try." Ciel stated. "Her goal, the equitable treatment of Faunus, is incredibly laudable, and I hope she achieves her dreams."

"And what are those?" Yang asked.

"At this moment, I cannot prognosticate." Ciel simply replied, causing Gog to bellow out a single great laugh.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #arc-en-ciel

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on-a-lucky-tide · 4 years

Text

Day Sixteen: Snowball Fight

A/N: Lambert, Eskel and Aiden find themselves in a desperate situation, with enemies knocking on every door, penned in by the ferocity of--no, it’s a snowball fight.

“Fuck,” Lambert ducked as a missile ricocheted off the huge chunk of fallen castle they were hiding behind. “It’s no use. They’ve got us pinned down.” He turned to Aiden, who looked just as beleaguered.

“I thought we’d outflanked them,” Aiden sighed, rubbing his eyes in despair as he looked at his remaining stock of ammunition. “I’m down to four. You?”

“Two, I wasted one, got greedy when we tried to take the steps,” Lambert shook his head. “They just fucking obliterated Eskel. He didn’t stand a chance.”

“Poor guy; he was covering for me. I’ll always remember his sacrifice,” Aiden nodded gravely, his gaze wavering over the courtyard steps. “So, what’s the plan?”

“If we circle ‘round back, we might stand a chance of catching them off guard.” He flinched as another projectile glanced off the top of the stone above their heads. “Geralt’s leg’s giving him hassle, so he’ll be slow on the uptake.”

“Nah, that little imp is just waiting for us, she’ll get off three before we even take two steps out of the keep’s shadow,” Aiden glanced towards the castle walls ponderously. Their target flapped errantly in the wind, the tattered cloth was full of holes thanks to a family of industrious moths that’d moved into the keep during the autumn, but Vesemir had redyed it to refresh its brilliant, fiery red hue. “One of us will have to make the sacrifice.”

Lambert looked at Aiden suddenly, one hand latching onto his forearm. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Victory’ll be hollow without you by my side,” Lambert rasped, eyes blown wide. “Don’t do it. We can still make it.”

Aiden stroked Lambert’s fingers. “I’ll always be by your side,” he leaned in to snatch a kiss, with tongue--because if you were going to have a dramatic final kiss, you needed to lick his tonsils, right?--and whispered his parting words. “Make it count, kitten.”

The Cat snatched up his remaining snowballs and charged out from their hiding place with a chirping battlecry. Agile and swift, he dodged around the first few balls of packed snow and ice hurtling in his direction, and Lambert used the distraction to make his play for the flag. He sprinted across the courtyard at full pelt, skidding on his heels to duck beneath several stray snowballs flung his direction, while Aiden fell to Geralt and Ciri’s vicious barrage.

The flag was within his reach. Just the set of stairs leading up to the chemin de ronde, and he’d have it within his grasp, and--

A portal opened up under his feet and he fell through with a surprised yelp. He had enough time to see Ciri teleport ascend the stairs to snatch the flag, before the rift in time and space closed above him. The landing was soft at least; Yennefer had dumped him into a huge mound of snow that he now fought his way from, spluttering and cursing. “You two-bit, cheating witch,” he spat a wad of snow from his mouth as he finally scrambled to his feet. Yennefer waited for him, her hands planted on her hips. “Dishonour! Dishonour on you, dishonour on y--oi, old man, do your fuckin’ job. She cheated!”

Vesemir strolled towards them with Eskel at his elbow. The latter was still ringing out his hair from where he’d been thoroughly buried in snow by his niece. She’d teleported a small avalanche over his head. “I don't know what you mean,” Vesemir shrugged, fighting back his smirk. “I saw you fall down the stairs, and then Ciri seized the flag.”

Lambert’s eyes narrowed first on Vesemir, then Yennefer, and finally Ciri as she bounced up with her prize. “Next time,” he brandished a finger at Geralt, who looked thoroughly perplexed. “Eskel’s gonna’ Aard you into next week.”

“What did I do?”

Lambert pointed first at Ciri. “Spawn,” then at Yennefer. “Ball and chain.” His finger waggled at Geralt one last time, before he turned to storm back into the keep, muttering about sportsmanship and a clear omission in the Aretuzan curriculum.

Yen smirked. “He’s rather sensitive, isn’t he?”

Geralt grunted. “Like a nerve ending,” he ruffled his hand over Ciri’s hair. “That was cheating.”

“No, it was teaching,” Yen placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “When what you want is within your grasp, you must use all means at your disposal to grasp it. But, I suppose I can make it up to him.”

Geralt nodded in agreement and they headed inside for lunch. By the evening, Yen had opened a portal to Ban Ard and transported through several kegs of fine ale, an entire goose roast - Lambert’s favourite - and a new Gwent deck. Lambert eyed the offering dubiously, poking the food with a fork and hovering his medallion over it to make sure it was real (and not cursed), before sitting down to tuck in with gusto. Aiden, who just enjoyed watching Lambert eat, because he often got so thin on the path, beamed at Yennefer with gratitude.

As he shuffled through his new set of cards later in the evening, his belly full of food and alcohol, Lambert cast Yennefer a sideways glance. “I suppose you’re okay,” he flicked a card through his fingers, “for a cheat.”

“Hmm,” she curled her finger around the rim of her grasp. “I think that was almost a compliment.”

Lambert grunted. “Yeah, well, and you were right,” he knocked back another mouthful of ale. “It’s a lesson she needed. One that Geralt probably didn’t want to teach.” He started to deal out the cards between himself and the witch.

“You heard?”

“What? You think the Grasses were just a formality?” He tapped the edge of his hand on the table. “He’s soft, you’re not. She gets the best of both worlds.”

She scooped her cards up and gazed down at them with a raised eyebrow. “Appears I’ve been dealt a rather favourable hand.”

“Yeah, well, unlike some people I know, I like to play fair,” he said, eyebrows quirked. “And on an even keel, I’d flatten you.”

She smirked right back at him; a rather feral twist of her lips. “We’ll see, Witcher.”

As the two took it in turns to set up devastating plays, exchanging barely veiled insults, Eskel sidled up next to Geralt. “You know, I’m glad they don’t get together often,” he murmured and, when Geralt glanced at him with a questioning eyebrow raised, “the world wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Thirty-One Days of Decembert

#rawrkinwrites #Decembert #15. Snowball Fight #Ciri #Lambert #Eskel #Aiden #Geralt #Vesemir #Yennefer

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countessofbiscuit · 3 years

Note

How would you have rexsoka get together in canon? What is your favourite fic you\ve written? Is there a fic you have that got way more attention than you thought? what is your favourite flower? do you like cake?

thanks for the meaty ask!

Okay, so ...

The Rexsoka I’d have pitched if I’d been a senior writer and encouraging noises had been made towards possible Jedi-Clone romances:

A Rex & Ahsoka-led Onderon Arc (all 4 eps), with Anakin and Obi-Wan left behind so we see how competently Captain and Commander operate independently, and with the contrived and painfully bad Steela-Lux-Ahsoka love triangle left out, because Ahsoka has 501 reasons to be completely done chasing that chucklebrained chump. Instead, she’s kinda relieved to see Lux maturing into someone that a person as impressive as Steela Gerrera can respect to the point of affection. There’s something in it that seems … familiar, but she can’t quite place it. That is, until her fireteam outflanks Rex’s in a mock ambush and he’s more pleased than cheesed :)

Throw in a nighttime scene with Rex pulling patrol and Ahsoka unable to sleep, or perhaps them on a nested recce in Iziz — anything where they can have a quiet heart-to-heart beneath the stars as they play rebels, and hello, I think I’ve just foreshadowed your next animated series for you, Dave. You’re welcome.

A Season 7 scene that could’ve been easily pitched and would have said everything that needed saying about Rex and Ahsoka’s relationship without offending anybody:

The voice-over opening to “Gone without a Trace” cuts from Ahsoka walking down the Temple steps to zipping across an industrial sector of Corucant towards an Underworld portal. Instead, I suggest cutting from the Temple flashback to:

EXT. DINGY CORUSCANT ALLEY.

Ahsoka is in her new but definitely pre-loved duds, leaning against her speederbike, waiting for something or someone.

An armoured silhouette suddenly fills the alley entrance. Starkly backlit but instantly familiar. Rex walks forward, deflating visibly with every step until he’s standing before her. The silence between them is tight with anticipation. “So,” he finally says. “You’re really going, huh.”

Ahsoka nods, grimly.

Rex chews this over, then notices the bike. “You went for that model?”

“For old times’s sake, I thought I’d not listen to you,” Ahsoka replies, shrugging with a wink. A question pops into Rex’s lopsided smirk. “So you can tell me ‘I told you so’ later.”

Rex sets his helmet onto her seat and pulls her into a long hug. “I look forward to it,” he finally says.

Ahsoka tears up and squeezes him back. Then she hands him his helmet and mounts her bike with a hurry that betrays a growing temptation to change her mind. “Goodbye, Captain,” she says with a quick salute.

Her bike shoots from the alley, engine kicking up dust and wind into Rex’s kama. “Goodbye, Ahsoka.”

Anyhoooo, someone was clearly thinking about how bereft Rex might feel after Season 5 when they made this poster.

My own favorite fic: Currently, The Colonel & the Margravine of Örtö (Foxiyo Regency AU) is reigning supreme. I’m really proud of the work that went into it, and I look back fondly on the period I spent writing it. Funnily enough, I just dropped some good cash on a mic to play around with Audacity and podficcing specifically so I can work my way up to recording this.

Surprisingly popular fic: If we’re talking engagement — comments/kudos/other feedback versus just hits — then Joint Command. If you’d’ve told me three years ago that a grody, TCW-era smutfic featuring Ahsoka and two clone officers would be so well received, I’d have asked to share your strip :p

My favorite flowers are daffodils, and cake is one of my five food groups (and the more frosting the better).

#rexsoka #foxiyo #codexsoka #the clone wars #biscuit fic

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lifblogs · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Run, The Guilt Is Mine

Angstpril: Day 3 - “I can’t.”

1547 words

read on ao3

graphic depictions of violence, injury, battle, medical care, angst, whump

@chaos-company

Anakin and Ahsoka were taking heavy fire from Separatist forces. The mission had been going great in terms of low death rate, but now clones—men that Ahsoka had tried to take time to know—were being killed. Luckily Rex, Fives, Echo, and Jesse were still alive. But she wasn’t sure about some of the other 501st members she’d taken a liking to. They had been outflanked and cut off, and now their only hope of getting out of there was to have their main attack force take out the cannons so the gunships could come in and extract them.

“Well this is going great!” Anakin called over the heavy blaster fire. He redirected some blasts with his lightsaber, taking out droids.

Ahsoka grit her teeth as she wielded her two sabers, doing the same.

“Don’t blame me!” she responded. “This was all—your—idea.”

“Cut the attitude, and go help our men on the other side.”

“Right away, Master.”

Ahsoka ran to support the north flank. They were positioned in a circle, and when one man fell along the front lines, he was dragged inwards, and another took his place. It was efficient, but the droids just kept closing in.

“Good to have you here, Commander!” Rex greeted her as she slid in front of him and deflected a red bolt that had been heading towards his helmet.

She spared him a quick nod, and got to work.

The noise around them grew louder, and she thought somewhere close by she heard their other men fighting. A cannon blew up, shaking the ridge to their northeast.

Suddenly, the men around Ahsoka were rushing around her, and she sensed panic through her Force connection with Anakin.

“Master.”

Another explosion shook the battlefield, fire and debris shooting up into the air. Their men crowded each other, chaos overcoming what had once been so orderly.

Then there it was again: panic, helplessness.

“Rex, hold the line!”

“Yes, Commander!”

Ahsoka wove through the troopers, everything a blur of white and blue. They weren’t in a circle anymore. The droids had swarmed them, and they were retreating, making a crowded and disjointed blob, which was quickly becoming fractured.

Her master was far out in the field now, cutting down droid after droid, and using the Force to toss them into each other, push them away. But he was tiring.

“Ahsoka, a little help!” he cried, desperation injecting into his voice.

Heart beating frantically, breathing much too quick, she leapt over some droids, trying to get to his position.

Pain flared in her shoulder, and then her leg, and she plummeted towards the hard ground.

She cried out as she fell.

“Ahsoka!”

Distracted, Anakin had just taken a hit to his abdomen, and had fallen to his knees.

Help, the bond seemed to say, even as she felt his worry for her. But the blaster bolts hadn’t hit anything vital, and had mostly grazed her. Still, she had a hard time fighting as she got back up, the pain slowing her down.

HELP.

“I can’t!” she cried. “Master!”

Explosions shook the ridge, and gunships flew towards their position. But Ahsoka couldn’t feel relief. She couldn’t see Anakin. Where he’d been was nothing but flashing lights and smoke.

Ahsoka took a hit to the back of the head. All went black.

~~~

Adrenaline spiked through Ahsoka so suddenly and with such force that she felt like her chest was going to burst. That’s what woke her.

Blaster fire. Anakin crying for help. The explosions.

“Master!”

Before she knew what was going on or where she was, she was sitting up, reaching for her lightsabers—they weren’t there. Hands held her down.

“No, no! Get off me!”

“Commander.”

Rex?

Ahsoka blinked, beginning to take in her surroundings. She was on their battleship, in her own room in the med bay. Rex and Fives were holding her where she was uninjured, keeping her steady.

A fierce ache raced toward her skull and up through to her montrals, particularly the one on the left. Her shoulder burned, as did her leg.

“The—the battle,” she said. “What happened? Where’s Anakin? Did he make it out?”

“He’s being seen to,” Fives answered. “Now, Commander, you should really lie back down.”

Ahsoka tried to brush them off, but her vision began to swirl, and everything blurred.

For the second time that day, she lost consciousness. The last thing she remembered was Rex lowering her back down, and medicine being injected into her upper arm.

~~~

This time when she woke up, she hurt less, and was in less of a panic. But instead, her body felt heavy, and numbed, the back of her head cold.

Probably a chill pac, Ahsoka realized as she took in her surroundings. Still in the gray and stark cleanliness of the med bay. And this time she was alone. She was warm, at least, but then she winced, tiny pinpricks alighting in her body, and she realized she was under a shock cloth. It would help her, but... she had to go find Anakin.

Ahsoka pushed off the shock cloth, and immediately missed its sturdy warmth. Shaking slightly, she left the bunk they’d put her in, and all but fell as she put weight on her right leg.

Right.

She’d been shot.

Looking down revealed that a medpatch covered part of her leg where her clothing had been torn through, and under that she wouldn’t be surprised if there were mechnosutures.

Great.

A quick exam of herself showed the same for her left shoulder.

Ahsoka held herself up by gripping the bunk, and as dizziness swarmed her, somehow seeming to plunge through her entire body so that nausea began to overtake what strength she’d thought she had, she looked for anything that she could use as a crutch. She hadn’t been left any; probably because she wasn’t supposed to be out of bed and mobile.

Too kriffing bad.

She spotted an IV pole across the room, and limped/dragged herself to it. Then, gripping it in a sweaty palm, she went to go find Anakin.

How badly was he hurt? He was alive still, that much she could sense. But would he stay that way? Was he even conscious? Would he blame her for what had happened?

Perhaps his blame didn’t matter because all Ahsoka could feel was a stone in her stomach from the knowledge that she hadn’t been able to help him, that she’d let him down.

It didn’t take long for her to find Anakin—he was in the room next to hers—and when she did, she saw that he was unconscious. He was burned and bloodied, but had been cleaned up as best as could be managed. Some medpatches were beginning to have a pink tint to them, and she wondered just how deep his wounds went. He lay under a shock cloth, and an oxygen mask was over his face.

Ahsoka nearly collapsed at the sight, and it had nothing to do with the damage to her body.

She went to him, and fell before his bunk.

“Oh, Master.”

She reached to take his hand that had fallen out from under the shock cloth, but then she realized that was bandaged too.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she stared at him. And stared.

Oh blast, this was her fault. All of it. She’d left his side, she hadn’t noticed the enemy surging towards his flank, and she hadn’t been able to reach him to help him. She’d gotten hit in the head of all things! How pathetic. She wasn’t just some regular soldier, or someone fresh out on the field. She was his Padawan, and yet she’d let him down.

“Master, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean...”

She cut herself off as he coughed, and then his blue eyes blinked open slowly. Despite the medicines he’d surely been given, they were still clouded with pain.

“Master?”

He reached up to remove the mask from his face. Ahsoka wanted to stop him, but she didn’t know where she could even touch him. Where wasn’t he injured?

He groaned, but managed to do so.

“Ahsoka, I’m fine.”

“No, no. Look at you!” she argued. “You needed help, and I couldn’t help you. You could’ve died!”

He coughed, let out another groan, and then murmured, voice rough and breathy, as if each word caused pain, “I’m—fine—Snips.”

“Stop lying. You’re not fine. You’re— Oh, how could I have let this happen?”

“You did what you… could.”

“No, I didn’t! I listened to my fear, my pain. I could have saved you, I could have—”

He reached out with his injured hand and weakly grasped her good shoulder. “You couldn’t have,” he murmured.

She bowed her head, and felt tears begin to flow.

Of course. She’d failed him, and he thought so too.

“Anakin, I’m sorry.”

“It’s… alright, Snips. It’s alright.”

Ahsoka didn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that. All she remembered was her failure, her weakness, lying on the ground as she screamed, I can’t!

She had failed him. His injuries were proof of that. Even her own were.

“You—have—to—forgive—yourself—Snips.”

She nodded, vision blurred as more tears fell.

Yet, inside, she knew, I can’t.

#angstpril2021 #daythree #ican't #star wars #the clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #fanfiction #hurt!ahsoka tano #hurt!anakin skywalker #whump #angst #writing #my writing

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Note

“We can share the bed. If that’s not weird” ~ Obidala if you’re alright with it! Thank you!!

I was a little inspired by Mulan for this?

Title: Oh, Captain, My Captain.

Padmé looked up at her handmaiden, a smile on her face at how light it felt without the usual caked-on makeup. She looked into the face of Sabé, her mirror.

Sabé’s brow furrowed in concern, “We are not sure that you should do this.”

Padmé bowed slightly, picking up a helmet to tuck under her arm. “We are brave, your highness.”

“It is not your bravery that we doubt,” Sabé said in a soft voice as she gently placed a hand on Padmé’s shoulder.

“So it is our army that you doubt?” Padmé asked, a brow raised and a slight smirk on her lips.

Sabé shook her head, “We shall not dissuade you.”

Padmé nodded and settled her helmet on her head. Then, she snuck into the ranks of troops in front of her majesty’s dais, waiting for her to address the crowd. She watched as Sabé snuck back to the stairs and made her grand entrance.

“We have faith in our forces, and we know that you shall do well to protect us,” Sabé said in the queen’s slight monotone. “We look forward to seeing you all come home in victory soon.”

The troops all cheered. Padmé looked around and joined in, a rush of excitement going through her. This is where the fun begins.

The battles dragged on, and Padmé soon found herself becoming close with her fellow soldiers. She was always careful about undressing so that they wouldn’t discover her true identity. In fact, only a precious few had seen her without her helmet on. One of them was her tent mate, Major General Kenobi. She had quickly risen in the ranks, having shown her battle strategy and earning her place as his aide-de-camp.

“Naberrie, can you get me my-” he trailed off as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. He looked up from his reading, “Ah, yes, thank you. And my-”

Padmé placed an apple on his table.

He frowned, “I was hoping for a biscuit.”

“You need to be healthier. Can’t have you falling down in battle before you’re due,” Padmé teased.

Obi-Wan fixed her with an intense look before smiling, crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes. “You’re too good to me,” he chuckled as he picked up the apple and the cutting knife next to it. He wagged the knife at her slightly, a weird look of sadness in his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll make some woman very happy someday.”

Padmé blushed slightly at his words. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for the battle tomorrow, General. I would hate for you to rendezvous with General Jinn when you’re not at your best.”

“I thought I was always at my best, Captain,” he winked.

“Or so you would like to think,” she shot back.

He blushed slightly and looked down at his teacup. “You’re dismissed for the night, Captain Naberrie.”

“Are you sure, Sir?”

He nodded, “Get some sleep. If I am to be at my best, then I need my aide-de-camp to be at his best in order to make me look even better.”

Padmé saluted him before giving him a shake of her head. “Good night, General.”

“Good night, Captain.”

Padmé removed herself to her side of their tent. With great care to her uniform, she slowly took off the cumbersome pieces until her ensemble was comfortable enough to sleep in. As always, she pulled her hair into a tight, low ponytail as was fashion amongst the ranks. She slipped into her cot for the night and let exhaustion take over her.

Obi-Wan stayed up into the late hours of the night until his candle started to die down. When the wax started to spill onto his table, he decided to go to bed. As he passed by his Captain’s cot, he had a weird look in his eyes as he noticed how his Captain’s hair haloed his face in tendrils. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Obi-Wan caught himself staring and blinked, shaking his head before going back about his business.

Padmé stirred slightly when she heard the General’s cot creak under his settling weight.

The next day, the General’s troops packed up camp and prepared to meet with General Jinn. Padmé rode on her horse next to General Kenobi until they met with them at the top of a battlefield.

Destruction stretched in front of them. She swallowed at the loss of life.

“Ah, General Kenobi,” General Jinn smiled, “It’s about time you showed up.”

General Kenobi shared a smile, “It’s good to see you, too.” His gaze took over the battlefield. “We are losing.”

“You’ve come in the nick of time with my reinforcements,” Jinn commented. “We’ll push forward with the siege.”

“With all due respect, General, but if that is what we have been doing, then perhaps we should change the strategy,” Padmé commented as she surveyed the field.

“And who are you?” Jinn asked.

“Captain Naberrie,” Obi-Wan introduced, “My aide-de-camp. He has quite the head for battle.”

Qui-Gon appraised her, and Padmé could have sworn she saw a glint of intrigue in his eyes. “I’m sure he does. What do you think, Captain?”

Padmé swallowed as she turned back to him from the field. “I think we should separate the troops into two groups and outflank them by going through the forest. Their colors would stand out, but we would blend in.”

“A veritable strategy,” Qui-Gon commented. “I see why he keeps you around. I’ll inform the men to retreat so that we may regroup and follow your strategy, Captain Amidala.”

Padmé bristled, but Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed the slip up.

“I think you’ve impressed him,” Obi-Wan commented when they were alone. “That’s no easy feat.”

Padmé smiled at him as she tugged on her horse’s reins, “And you knew him from before.”

“He was my professor at the academy,” Obi-Wan explained before nudging his horse back to the rest of his men.

The battle was fierce and long, but the amount of men lost was minimal in comparison to the previous strategy. Although, the wounded were many. When Obi-Wan breached the enemy lines and sent them into a retreat, he turned triumphant towards his aide-de-camp to find that they were not there. He turned, eyes frantic to find that Captain Naberrie was on the ground meters behind him, having been thrown from their horse after being shot. Quickly, he dismounted and went to his Captain’s side.

“Stay with me, Naberrie,” he murmured as he knelt down. With all the care in the world, he scooped Padmé up and took her back to base to be seen by a medical professional.

Soon enough, he was pacing outside the tent as a professional tended his Captain’s wounds.

Qui-Gon dismounted outside the tent, “Are you trying to wear a path into the ground?”

Obi-Wan paused and saluted, “General.”

“At ease. What happened?”

“The Captain was shot at and thrown from his horse,” Obi-Wan informed him, worry apparent on his face.

Qui-Gon frowned, “If she’s wounded, you’ll have to take her home. The battlefield is no place for a lady.”

“She?” Obi-Wan said incredulously.

Qui-Gon looked at him with a smirk, “You’ve shared a tent with her majesty and didn’t recognize her this entire time?”

“You’re telling me that Captain Naberrie is....” Obi-Wan trailed off. “Oh heavens, she’s been serving me when I should have been serving her!”

Padmé chose that moment to get out of her cot and throw open the flap, wincing at the movement, “I can assure you, General, you serve me well enough with your military campaign.”

“Your highness,” Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

Padmé tilted his face up to see hers. Softly, she murmured, “At ease, General.”

Obi-Wan locked eyes with her and swallowed the lump in his throat before straightening. “As you wish.”

“Obi-Wan, I’m giving you new orders to escort the Queen back to the palace,” Qui-Gon said, interrupting their moment.

“Absolutely not,” Padmé protested, “I’m needed here.”

“Your majesty, you are not safe here. We must get you home,” Qui-Gon replied with only a touch of exasperation, “What will your people do if you perish? Sabé cannot take over forever.”

Padmé opened her mouth and then promptly shut it before going back into the tent to sit. She couldn’t leave Sabé in charge. Sabé hated politics. Padmé sighed, “I’ve already left her in charge long enough, haven’t I?”

Obi-Wan smirked, “Long enough to make Captain.”

She smirked at him, “I had an inspiring General.”

“The palace is about two day’s ride to the south if you don’t stop,” Qui-Gon informed them. “You are to leave immediately before the enemy catches wind that the Queen is even here. You’ll take the messenger’s horse. It’s the fastest.”

“What will the messenger use?” Padmé asked.

Qui-Gon smirked, “He’s got feet, hasn’t he?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “You’re horrible.”

“That’s ‘you’re horrible, General’ to you,” Qui-Gon winked, “Now get out of here.”

In an instant, Obi-Wan scooped Padmé up in his arms and carried her towards the corrals.

“I can walk,” Padmé murmured.

“You took a nasty tumble earlier,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Obi-Wan, you know I’m capable,” she replied in frustration. “Treat me as you always have.”

Obi-Wan looked down at her, “Your majesty, it’s hard to just go back to that.”

“Why?” She asked as he placed her in the saddle and swung up behind her.

“Because of who you are and the type of person that I am,” he replied before setting the horse into a run.

Padmé sighed as she leaned into him and settled into the trip. A silence settled around them.

General Kenobi looked down at the woman in his arms. He was nervous, but most of all, he was confused. He’d always though his Captain was a handsome man, but now faced with the truth that she was a beautiful woman, he was left reeling. He considered him, nay, her to be his best friend on that field. She was brilliant in a way that most couldn’t even come close to touching. He didn’t know what he was to do without her. She kept his life in order and held him together in more ways than he dared to admit. Now, he was faced with the issue of returning her home. He felt awful for not waiting on her instead of the other way around. Most of all, he felt foolish that he hadn’t realized it sooner, and hurt that she hadn’t told him.

“You’re quiet,” she ventured finally, “it’s unlike you.”

“Is it?” he asked softly. “Perhaps we both don’t know each other quite as well as we thought.”

Padmé stiffened in his hold before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “General, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Do I?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Because everything that I thought I knew, I apparently did not.”

“Obi-Wan, I never lied to you,” she replied adamantly.

“You lied about being a man!”

“You never asked,” she shot back.

“And your name.”

“Naberrie is my maiden name,” she replied.

“Oh.”

They walked on in silence for a few strides before Padmé sighed.

“I am sorry,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied. “I understand why you would go to such lengths. It’s actually admirable that you care so much about your people as to risk your own life to ensure theirs.”

A quiet understanding enveloped them, then. The knowing that although it may have been started under false pretenses and conclusions, their friendship was still real. It was still valid. They had still been through a war at each other’s side, and nothing would change that.

The rhythmic pitter patter of rain on the forest canopy above could be heard. It started gradually before growing in strength to the point where they were shouting to be heard above the din.

“We should stop for the night!” Obi-Wan yelled as thunder clapped above them. He had taken his cape and held it over their heads to try and protect them from the downpour. “If we go on like this, we’ll get ill!”

“We’ll stop at the next in!” Padmé yelled back.

Obi-Wan pulled up to the next inn they came across, holding the door open for her once they arrived.

“There’s only one room left,” the innkeeper said as he slid the key over. He gave Padmé an odd glance at her choice in outfit and she looked down to find she was still in her uniform.

“I ran out of clothes,” she explained quickly.

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Third door on the right.”

Padmé gave him a gracious nod and started down the hall with Obi-Wan. When they reached the room, she started up the fireplace out of habit.

“You should let me,” Obi-Wan said as he took the prod from her.

“If you wish, General,” she sighed before she started to peel off her layers as they clung to her skin.

“Y-your majesty?” Obi-Wan stammered.

“Obi-Wan, our clothes are soaked. If we don’t let the majority of them dry then we won’t have anything to wear,” she replied as she draped her clothes over the back of the chair until she was just in her undershirt and underwear. “You, too, General. I won’t have you getting sick on my account.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “That’s not proper.”

Padmé rolled her eyes and moved to undress him. “I will not have my friend catch his death due to modesty.”

He looked down, watching as her nimble fingers unbuttoned and peeled off his jacket. He stopped her when she went towards his pants. “I can handle that,” he murmured, unbuttoning and sliding them down until they matched in states of undress.

Together, they sat on the couch, trying to dry the clothes they were still wearing by the warmth of the fire. Obi-Wan draped his arm around the back of the couch. Padmé leaned into his side for his body heat, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“Would you have let me stay?” she asked seriously.

“Maybe,” he sighed, “I already don’t know what I’ll do without you, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve become that important to you?” she asked, tilting up to look at him.

He looked down at her with a small smile, “You’re indispensable.”

Padmé felt her cheeks heat up from his words and not the fire, turning away from the intensity of his gaze. Reaching up, she touched her shirt to find that it had dried. “We should get some rest,” she murmured.

“I’ll take the couch if you want. Or we could share the bed if that’s not odd,” Obi-Wan murmured.

“Why would it be odd? We’ve shared both bed and tent before,” she replied as she got up to cross the room.

“Yes, but that was different. It was before...”

“Before, what, you knew who I was?”

“Well, quite frankly, yes,” he replied.

“Does that knowledge really change so much between us?” she asked in exasperation as she threw back the covers and got into bed.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied seriously as he gently got into his side of the bed.

“Why?” She asked, turning to face him in bed.

“It makes my attraction to you less awkward,” he admitted.

Padmé blushed, “Attraction?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan murmured as he gently took her hair out of the low ponytail she had it in. He cupped her cheek with his hand before tucking hair behind her ear.

Padmé looked up at his eyes that were so intensely focused on her lips, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t mutual.”

“Oh?” he asked in amusement.

“You’re capable, charming, and handsome, General. What’s not to like?”

“Please, your majesty. Call me Obi,” he murmured.

“And you may call me Padmé. You’ve more than earned the right, Obi,” she murmured as she felt his arm wrap around her. She slowly drew nearer. As her nose bumped his, she let herself melt into him as their lips connected. She closed her eyes to heighten her other senses, feeling his lips move firmly against hers as his hands slipped into her hair. She kissed back harder and harder. Their motions became desperate until she pulled back for air.

Obi-Wan took stock of how flushed her cheeks looked and how rosy her lips were from the kiss. He had kissed his Queen. His eyes widened slightly with the realization.

Padmé opened her eyes to her General. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him. Most of all, she’d liked it. He looked at her so intently. It was a way that made her feel seen. She hoped he’d always see her. The thought thudded in her chest: Did she love her General? Her eyes widened in the realization as she swallowed a lump in her throat and immediately turned over in bed.

“Good night, General.”

“Good night, your majesty,” Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand down his face as he faced the other direction.

#obidala #obi-wan x padme

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fallen-in-dreams · 3 years

Text

Dancing in the Dark

Links: FF.net & AO3. Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger Summary: One-shot Dramione. Hermione is in a muggle night club, trying to dance away her sorrow, and remembering her break up with Ron. She is joined by a man on the dance floor and loses herself in his embrace. You already know who he is! **sighs with pleasure ** Status: Complete.

Author note: This was a one-shot I posted on ff net way back in 2011. I’ve now cross-posted it onto AO3. It hasn't been edited since 2011, so please ignore the corniness of it. :) Also, I no longer write for this fandom but given the deadness of ff net lately, I've decided to begin cross-posting onto AO3 the fics that aren't on here. Enjoy. ^_^

I'm dancing alone here in the dark, And then I can feel you next to me. There's warm solace in your embrace, And only love when I look into your face. A smirk, and then you lean in to kiss me softly, We ignore the music; it beats so very quickly My heart is telling me to stay, but just to go slow And boy, I will never ever let you let me go. oxoxox

She held her hands out, her arms bent inward at the elbows as she swayed to the music; then lifted her arms to travel up her body as she turned around on the spot. Her hips moved in time with the reverberation; the melodic tune was not racy, but sensual. It was a muggle establishment, this night club, so her friends were not likely to burst in and find her.

And if there was one thing Hermione Granger needed to do, it was just to let go. And she needed to do this away from everyone she knows. She was dressed the part, her hair out and wild (but not frizzy), her clothes black and fitting almost like a second skin. She was no fan of getting her flash out, so while the outfit did indeed tantalise the senses, it was more about creating intrigue, and less about blatant show-and-tell.

She tore her eyes away from the brightness of the overhead lights, joined by a guy in a designer outfit. If he hadn't been trying to crack onto her, she would have thought he was gay, good taste in clothes and all that.

She didn't look up into his face, her eyes sore from the lights.

Hermione indulged him, not worried that he was some kind of sick psycho. He held her waist in his hands, pushing up against her and she let the music travel through her.

When the music changed, the lights dimmed to near darkness; but still she danced, unhindered by the few seconds wait for the next song. The guy dancing with her didn't seem to mind, and as the beat quickened, so did their movements. Flashes of sporadic colourful lights gave her fleeting images of this man, this muggle who was spinning her around on the spot one moment and then pressed up against her the next.

And why was she acting like this? Why was she letting a complete stranger half grope her in the semi-dark of a muggle night club? For solace, to hide her heart ache, and because she was just a little bit drunk. Scratch that last one. She was a lot drunk!

She held onto this stranger, feeling his warmth waft over her in a strange kind of comforting way. She needed this. She wanted this.

So, what was wrong? Oh, bloody Ronald Weasley of course! She'd been dating him properly since the fall of Voldemort, only to find out a year later that Lavender Brown had been pursuing him all along. He said that he had never given into her, always gently telling Lavender that it would never happen, and that he was with Hermione now. And Hermione had believed him!

'No,' Hermione told herself, gripping tighter onto her dance floor partner. 'I will not let him drag me down. I'm here to have fun.'

She spun around, and then let the stranger entwine their fingers together as they danced. She laughed at him, watching the way his body moved. The new song was even faster than the last and she just let herself go. Once the song started to fade and a slower, more loving one took its place, Hermione's partner started to come into focus, what with her being more than just a little drunk.

He looked into her eyes and suddenly standing still, she looked back. Those eyes were so beautiful, so familiar. She blinked heavily, trying to unblock her vision and as her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say something, he pressed a forefinger to her lips to silence her.

"I told you I would treat you better," he said softly, but making sure she could hear him.

Hermione swallowed heavily. He was making her giddy, thinking dirty thoughts. But what would he be doing here, in a muggle night club of all places.

And as Draco Malfoy lowered his lips to hers, she closed her eyes, remembering the events that had started only a few days after she'd found out about Lavender's quest to win back her "won won".

Hermione had started being friends with Draco Malfoy. His mother had approached her, asking her to make friends with him (he was working as an assistant to the Head of International Magical Cooperation but no-one wanted to befriend him, given his family's now tarnished name).

Narcissa Malfoy had donated a lot of money to Hermione's newest crusade for the protection of magical creatures against ministry control. She was getting pretty far too, what with her best friend Harry Potter agreeing to put his name on it as well, and nobody wanted to let down the "chosen one".

And yeah, she took the bribe from Narcissa. Uncharacteristic maybe, but it was for a good cause after all. And she was completely taken in by Narcissa's concern for her son. Yeah, she was a sucker for people in need.

So Hermione sought Draco out at work, looking past his nasty innuendos, the loathsome glares, and self indulgent pity to try to befriend him. He was more reserved these days, though a flicker of the old, smug Malfoy remained. And once he got past his suspicions that she was "checking up" on him for the ministry or her "lame ass friends" (as he put it), Draco had eventually opened up to her.

Hermione found herself returning the gesture, telling him all about Lavender, and her jealousy, that she hid from Ron. He was sympathetic, caring, and more attentive than she had ever known him to be. Perhaps it had been his need to have a friend at the ministry, or maybe he really did care. She had had no idea.

And then Hermione made a mistake, one she regretted but knew was inevitable. She told Ron about Draco. He was not sympathetic, caring, nor attentive. But then, Draco was a touchy subject with her friends.

Ron grew increasingly jealous, telling her to stop seeing him, as though she was sleeping with him or something. She told him that was ridiculous, that he was just a friend, and anyway, if either of them should be jealous, it should be her!

Lavender did not know how to take no for an answer, hanging around the ministry when Ron had his lunch hour, and coming over to see him when Hermione was the only one working. Ginny had seen her arriving at the house Hermione and Ron shared, and had told Hermione as soon as she got off work.

The argument Hermione had had with Ron was crude and littered with cussing; he had always been foul mouthed. She stormed out in a rage, heading over to Ginny and Harry's place. They were both supportive, so why not Ronald?

(She wouldn't have bothered them, considering the position she'd be putting Harry in, but Ginny had insisted, saying, "that stupid idiot is my brother, and besides, this is my house too, not just Harry's". Poor Harry had been outnumbered and outflanked.)

Ginny went over to Ron's house the next day, collected Hermione's belongings, ignoring her brother adamantly, and even went with Hermione as she searched for a new place.

But it was Draco's reaction that pulled on her heart strings. The fury on that normally aloof or smirking face was unmistakable. Was he more concerned for her than Ronald could ever be?

After spending an hour debating how many curses he could inflict on Ron at the same time, Draco had said something that made her head spin and her knees weaken. "I would treat you better than he would."

Pulling herself out of the past, Hermione focused on the present. Draco Malfoy was kissing her. Didn't he realise she was drunk, damn it?

But her arms went around his neck and she had never held so fast to anyone before. They pressed their bodies together, ignoring the music, ignoring the muggles and immersing only in each other. Maybe, just maybe, this had been the most rewarding outcome of her crusades for the protection of magical creatures against ministry control.

'Yes,' she thought wickedly. 'This I could get used to.'

X X X

#dramione #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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fairfaxleasee · 3 years

Note

I was looking through your Devil's Hands prompt list and am intrigued! How about either 9 (Just dropped by to make sure you’re as happy with our little deal as I am.) or 10 (Hm. I forgot you could tempt me with things I want)? Happy Friday!

For @dadrunkwriting

"Hm. I forgot you could tempt me with things I want..." Gamlen Amell ran a hand along his chin and licked his lips.

Solas doubted very much the shemlen had forgotten anything of the sort. "Just so we're clear, Gamlen, my proposal is that I will pay you for information about your niece. Not rumor, not speculation, and not your opinion. I am only interested in information."

Information on Cassia Hawke was annoyingly difficult to come by. There were plenty people who "knew" things about the Champion, and more who "knew" somehow more outlandish things about the Ice Queen, but people who knew anything about Cassia Hawke the woman were somehow rarer than people who knew about Elvhanan.

As far as Solas could tell, there were only two people alive who really knew her, and both of them refused to speak with him. (Well, technically the imitation wolf would talk with him, but he rarely said anything that wasn't an insult or a threat. He certainly wasn't willing to talk with Solas about his 'Cass.') The degree of loyalty ara vherlin had cultivated in her servant was surprising, but it was obvious she was a lost cause to Solas.

Merrill was supposed to have known ara vherlin, but it seemed that the women had managed to spend ten years in each other's company and Merrill knew just as little (and 'knew' just as much) as the people who'd never even met ara vherlin.

Which is why Solas had been forced to lower himself to this meeting. Gamlen Amell was ara vherlin's only living relative, and unfortunately the dead ones were beyond Solas' reach. He'd lived with her for over a year. He had to know something.

Solas just hoped it wouldn't take too long to get to it. Every second in the shemlen's company was absolute agony.

"Oh, I can give you information alright..."

"Then I suggest you get to it. No information, no money."

"Straight down to business then? I can respect that."

Solas had no idea why the shemlen thought he could affect a behavior he'd never received, but this wasn't the time to bring it up. "...yes. I think it's preferable that we keep our interaction to a minimum."

"Well," Gamlen leaned in and motioned for Solas to mirror the movement. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes and reluctantly did as requested. Once he was close enough, the shemlen took a look around the bar (despite the fact Solas was already positive no one was paying them any heed) and whispered, "The thing to know about my niece, elf, is... she's completely out of her blighted mind."

Solas was sorely tempted to kill Gamlen now and be done with it. "...that is unhelpful to my endeavors, as well as a matter of opinion. It doesn't count as information."

"Well now just a bloody second! You're not going to go changing our deal now, you said you'd pay for information, you didn't say a blighted thing about how it had to be useful to you!"

"I had thought..." Solas forced a smile. "That it was implied."

"I'll tell you what's 'implied' - it's implied that there are a lot of other people who are interested in my time and hearing about my niece!" Solas doubted both those things. "It's implied that I've been nice enough to meet with you to talk, and now you're going and changing our deal -" Solas closed his eyes and counted in his head to ignore and resist murdering the shemlen. When he opened them, Gamlen was still ranting, "I'll imply you, is what I'll do!"

Solas slammed a fist on the table. "First, stop using that word. I do not know what you think it means, but whatever that is, it does not mean what you think it means! Second - I will pay you for useful information about your niece. But if you think you can get a better offer elsewhere, feel free to leave."

The man blanched and swallowed. "I... fine. I'll tell you what I know."

"Please. And I think it would be better for both of us if you were quick about it."

"Let's see now. Most of it comes back to the girl being out of her blighted mind, like I told you. Never went out, never had any friends, would just totally stop talking for hours on end. No idea what that was about. Complained when I was 'loud,' complained about my drinking - said it made the house 'smell funny,' wouldn't do anything Leandra or I told her to. Never did any of the things she was supposed to - didn't cook, didn't clean, always galivanting off somewhere with that entourage of hers, like that glowy elf she ran off with." He laughed. "Actually, you want to get to know her that badly, go get yourself some of those fancy lyrium tattoos. Knife-ears and those things and she'll throw herself at a man. Course, if you don't have those things, she'll completely ignore you. Did you know, in all the time she lived here, she never bought one thing at the Rose."

"Why do you know that?" Solas regretted the question before he'd finished asking it, but its monumental stupidity stuck out in the shemlen's monumentally stupid diatribe that Solas hadn't been able to resist.

"Kept trying to get put on her tab there! Only every time I do, I get told she's not a customer and doesn't have a tab! I asked her to open one for me - it was the least she could have done; she never once paid rent when she was living with me, and not just her mind! That damn dog of hers ate about a third of my cheese inventory! And once she made it in that Deep Roads expedition there wasn't even an extra copper for Dear Old Uncle Gamlen - no Nameday gifts, no Satinalia gifts, nothing! And she kept trying to poison me! First it was the mistletoe at the Satinalia dinner I had to invite myself to, then it was the cyanide at the Tevinter dinner party."

"I cannot imagine anyone wanting to poison you." It was a good thing Solas didn't have any handy or he'd have probably already slipped some in the man's drink. "But none of this is helpful. If I wanted gossip, I'd ask the bartender. I want insight."

"Alright. I'll give you insight. But it's going to cost you." Gamlen rubbed his fingers together.

"You will get paid when I get my information. Not sooner."

"Well, here goes - I think she always was jealous of Bethany. Although I suppose that made sense, Bethany was the nice one, and the pretty one, and the easy one, too bad she was also the apostate one. If she hadn't been, things would have gone very differently. Leandra'd have given Cassia up to the Circle in a heartbeat. Of course who knows, girl might have actually liked it there. You know, Leandra told me more than once that if she'd known that was what she was going to get, she wouldn't have thrown it all away."

"But they're dead."

"Who?"

"Leandra and Bethany - her mother and sister."

Who I would much rather be talking to than you.

"Yeah... but suspicious that way, isn't it? People around Cassia always seem to turn up dead. She says Bethany got the Taint, but there's really only her word for it, and that elf she's attached to - who knows what happened in the Deep Roads. Same with Leandra, girl said blood magic, but they never did like each other either."

Matricide and sororicide were perfectly plausible activities for the Ice Queen to get up to, but apparently even her uncle was unable to realize that ara vherlin had little in common with that character.

Solas shook his head and pulled his cloak back up. "This was a waste of time." He stood to leave.

"Hey! Get back here, elf, and give me my money!"

"I thought," Solas shot a bolt in the shemlen's direction. It was harmless, but it had the desired effect of stopping him in his tracks, "I was clear - I would pay you for information; not opinion, not speculation. And you obviously have no information to offer whatsoever on your niece."

"I told you," Gamlen took a step in his direction, then glanced at his hands nervously and stopped moving, "The girl's out of her blighted mind!"

"And I told you, that was your opinion. You get nothing for that. Good day, 'sir.'"

Solas stalked out of the shemlen's hovel. This entire trip had wasted a day chasing useless leads when he could have used it trying to figure out a way to outflank what was, by far, the most dangerous adversary he'd encountered. Who he still couldn't believe was human.

#dragon age #dragon age fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #dragon age inquistor #da drunk writing circle #solas #dragon age solas

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