#aitahea

[shimmersing]

Constellation [Masterpost]

Masterpost: Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy

Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear. Part One [AO3 | Tumblr] Part Two [AO3 | Tumblr] Interlude [AO3 | Tumblr] Part Three [AO3 | Tumblr]

AN: This story follows shortly after the events in Best Intentions and closes out Chapter One of the Consular storyline for Aitahea (and Erithon, peripherally). The one-shot, first-person piece Impending occurs in the interim between Parts 2 and 3. Thank you and enjoy!

Bonus! Soundtrack at Spotify

[claudela]

Commission for @shimmersing of her OCs Aitahea & Erithon. Don’t judge the background I never draw buildings lmfao. Yay more lighting practice too.

[the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond]

Reward of the art giveaway, first part! ~

The sweet sithy, Jela Bril of @dottiechan​! I have already draw her a while ago, here! :p It was a nice challenge to do, thanks you! ~

Aitahea and Erithon, the cutest couple who belong to @shimmersing!! I already wants to draw something for you since a long time who I was happy that your name had been pick up! ~ I like them a lot :p

And the awesome and badass Razi'lziveri from the legacy of @melissagt!! One of my favorite jedi! :p

I’m still working on the other gift, don’t worry, I have forget nobody!! :)

[dottiechan]

Realistic portrait of @shimmersing ‘s OC Aitahea Daviin (face claim: Lily James)

You probably didn’t expect me to be done with this portrait so soon, but I was really feeling it today. I hope it can at least bring a smile to your face! <3 Oh, and I just had to draw her with her hair let down!

(Click for better resolution)

Ko-fi

[vihola]

If you were to have Merkara and Relu to meet your mutual's ocs, who would they like to meet?

Oh, that’s a tough one!

They already get to meet @sunsetofdoom‘s Thirteen and @underestimated-power‘s Aen’aya and Honurr. And Merkara knows @balaurvestic‘s Lumis, @wilvarin-chan‘s Viveka, @underestimated-power‘s Maravate, and @hundredofuniverses‘s Eliyaz.

But Merkara would also like to meet your Aris, @sith-shenanigans‘s Kel’aari, @vespertine-legacy‘s Sija and Mena, @mimabeann‘s Er’yne and her entire family, @highexarchs‘s Yevari, @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond‘s Cassilda, @rainofaugustsith‘s Viri, @kunoichi-ume‘s Rugama, @cinlat‘s Ma’at, @palepinkycat‘s Mara, @actualanxiousswampwitch‘s Nadolig, @greencrusader13‘s Eonur, @nusaran‘s Edenye, @theanaideialegacy‘s Asmodaeus, @frozenabattoir‘s Luzia

And it would be cool for Relu to meet your Jazzeira, @shimmersing‘s Aitahea, @starknstarwars‘s Morff Praxis, @kaosstar‘s Naya, @pauletta-00‘s Airistan, @opalxempress‘s Sindijah, @sassheliosazuras‘s Selena, @resol-nare‘s Reyerranne, @greyias‘s Grey, @villainship‘s Arameis, @jay-falco‘s Jayne, @pineaberry‘s Vaakot, @anchanted-one‘s Arro, @miss-spooky-eyes‘s Ellezhi, @reflectionslegacy‘s Natirru, @thestarcabal‘s Lunakalla, @delavairesslegacy‘s Caia

[villainship]

Diggin’ in my screenshots the other day~ Here’s some from “two DPS + two healers take on Hammer Station”. . . with my clumsy, unpracticed healing skills no less. lol. The other sage was @shimmersing‘s main girl Aitahea, while @secretfeanorian​, on Ari, was “tanking” for us in non-tank spec (and is lucky to have survived).

Oh and I guess there was some smelly alley cat smuggler too. X) HEH HEH. <3 @claudela (actually that last picture is Arameis thanking him for the heals. Tysyc was nothing but a gentleman the whole excursion. A Good Cat. Roguish, charming boi)

[shimmersing]

Jedi Consular Aitahea Daviin (also starring Erithon & Lucent) artwork <3 Please make sure you visit & follow all these incredibly talented artists!

Rows 1 & 2: @claudela Row 3: @koric & @foreverfornever Row 4: @carterashsart & @berriku Row 5: @claudela & @mara-lune Row 6: @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond Row 7: @foreverfornever Row 8: @moonlitalien

Luminous Masterpost | Aitahea Daviin’s Profile | Image References

[shimmersing]

OMG thank you @foreverfornever for these charming drawings of Aitahea! You have my heart!

[shimmersing]

Flirty OC Giffy Meme

Thanks for the tags @dottiechan & @kunoichi-ume! 

Smuggler Tember Daviin

Sith Inquisitor Isme

Trooper Erithon Zale

Jedi Consular Aitahea Daviin

Jedi Knight Erianthe Tihomir

I tag.... @taraum & @mara-lune (COME ON I NEED THIS)

BONUS: Lana & Theron

[shimmersing]

Jedi Consular Aitahea Daviin screencaps & references!

Luminous Masterpost | Aitahea Daviin’s Profile | AND ART

[shimmersing]

Aitahea & Padawan Nadia are having none of your nonsense.

[shimmersing]

Mom face.

[shimmersing]

OC Questions time :D! How would Aitahea fare when taking care of a plant? What boosts their confidence the most? Describe them in three words.

Haha! Thanks @chivalin

Aitahea has no trouble caring for plants, though since she’s gone for long periods they remain more under See-Too’s care. She tells herself she’d have more if she had the time to dedicate to them properly.

Positive results! If she can see her work making a change, she’s very motivated to continue.

Aitahea is earnest, responsive, optimistic.

[shimmersing]

[shimmersing]

Something Better

[Tumblr Masterpost] [AO3 Link] [Soundtrack] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Chapter 1: The Unaccounted-For Child

“Younglings, this way! Hurry!” Jedi Master Faron called, sweeping the children past him into a small classroom. His five – no, four - young charges scampered through the open door and darted into the shadows, feeling their minder’s urgency. Master Faron glanced down the hallway before silently closing the door behind him. Children scrambled under tables and behind benches as the Jedi Temple quaked around them.

“M-m-master Faron?” a wavering voice called.

“Hush now, younglings. We must be silent,” Faron shushed, reaching out in the Force to brush each young mind reassuringly. In return he felt fear, confusion, and anxiety, though it calmed minutely at his touch. Beyond their tiny study room, there was even worse: pain, anguish, and… death.

“Little ones. Listen to me,” the minder whispered, “Search your memories. Find the very happiest one you know and meditate on it. Live in that memory.” Faron closed his eyes, an instant of regret, an instant of concern. Then he detached his lightsaber from his belt.

Master Faron hadn’t powered on the weapon in more than twenty years. He carried it as the symbol it was: to demonstrate that he was a member of the Jedi Order. He’d never had to kill, only rarely had to defend himself even at the worst of times. The empath had spent much of his time as a Jedi training initiates like himself, some of the most vulnerable of Force-sensitive children.

He continued to observe his young students, settling into peaceful meditations as he’d asked. He projected one last soothing aura and then left the room in silence, lightsaber gripped in his hand. They were coming.

Sith.

Master Faron ignited his lightsaber: green, traditional for a consular. He gazed into the blade’s bright glow for a moment, and then the attackers swept around the corner. The sage found himself recoiling from the aura of dark side energy surrounding the three Sith who approached.

“Well, well, well, my friends. What is this now?” The closest – human, barely more than a girl - sneered, whipping the ruby blade of her lightsaber around in a lazy circle. Master Faron shifted to a defensive stance and remained silent.

A Zabrak female, her horns tipped in black, sniggered. “A minder? Like a nursemaid?” She edged up behind the leader, leering. “Obviously he’s protecting some little innocent Jedi younglings around here.”

Master Faron stiffened, a shock of panic racing up his spine. He felt one of his students falter in his blissful meditation, surprised and curious. The final Sith, a rangy human, lightsaber unlit, pushed past the other two and stood face to face with the consular.

“We aren’t here to play games, you two nitwits,” he hissed, circling to Faron’s left side, away from the classroom door. The Jedi followed his movements closely, keeping his lightsaber as a ward between himself and the Sith, between his charges and the darkness.

“Fine, then, if you’re going to be that way about it. He looks too soft for me, anyway,” the first replied, shrugging and deactivating her lightsaber with a snap. The Zabrak giggled again, no mirth in the sound at all.

“You can’t protect them, you know,” the man said. The gaze of the Sith was tinged with red, just the slightest glow marring otherwise perfectly normal human eyes. Faron shook his head.

“It is not whether I can or cannot, Sith. It is what is determined by the Force. You cannot understand.”

The Sith smiled maliciously, his eyes blazing brighter for a moment. “It’s not that I cannot, poor Jedi. It’s that I simply don’t care.”

And then he attacked. Master Faron blocked the first two blows, but a third seared deep into his shoulder, a jolt of fiery agony that left his weapon hand numb. His lightsaber dropped from nerveless fingers, the blade sizzling out instantly. A vast roar sounded, the rumble of stone and mortar breaking apart. Dust fell between the two opponents as they glared into each other’s eyes. One of the younglings in the classroom screamed.

“See, Master Jedi? There is nothing you can do. We will tear this temple down atop you; it will be your tomb. The Jedi are finished.”

Jedi Master Faron straightened boldly, facing the Sith. “Our work is never finished, young man. The Jedi live on. The galaxy will see peace again.” He paused, reaching out to his initiates, a final touch of calm and… love. “You cannot win.”

The Sith smiled bleakly, shook his head, and raised his lightsaber. “On the contrary.” His blade struck-

Aitahea shot upright, grasping the sheets to her throat. A cry was trapped in her chest, binding her heart into a knot, painful and tight. Where am I?

The room was shadowed and unfamiliar. The viewport across from her opened onto star shine. Ah, yes. She was on the Luminous, the ship entrusted to her by the Council upon her departure from Coruscant. They were en route to Taris, fearing that a Jedi studying the planet was suffering the same malady as Master Yuon. With a heavy sigh, Aitahea touched a hand to her brow, feeling the weight of Yuon’s shielding in her mind. The burden was worth it.

She looked to her left in the faint light, eyes drawn to the metallic cylinder of her lightsaber hilt on the bedside stand. It lay there solid and real, and she reached out with a trembling hand to touch it, to feel the reassurance of cool metal and crystal. Her fingers curled around the weapon and she pulled it into her lap, the comfortable weight soothing.

More than ten years later and the Sacking of Coruscant still haunted her. She had been only a child, an initiate, when the tenuous peace began in the wake of the Sith Empire’s attack – Aitahea now held the power and prestige that could have saved them all. Her fellow younglings and Master Faron, all gone, and only she remained.

Wakeful but now calm, Aitahea considered the vision, taking it to pieces and examining each part without emotion. Part dream, part memories that were not her own, shared through the Force. She hadn’t been in the Jedi Temple when was attacked and couldn’t know of this specific event. Saved by a twist of fate, a simple scheduling occurrence that had placed her safely elsewhere on Coruscant as the temple was razed. She was the fifth youngling, the unaccounted-for child.

An exceptional empath, young Aitahea hadn’t needed to be near the temple to feel the suffering of her friends and teachers. Aitahea and her younger sister sat on either side of their father, gleefully watching as their mother was honored for her work as an educator. Aitahea had gone rigid and white as snow when the Sith attack on the Temple began. The young initiate had gasped like one drowning, and moments later the doors crashed in. Imperial soldiers had flooded into the academy, weapons aimed and ready.

Though they weren’t Jedi, it was Aitahea’s parents who saved everyone that day. After calming the audience, Aitahea’s mother negotiated a detainment period for the faculty and attendees of the academy in attendance that evening. Rather than the devastation that could have occurred, the Daviin family kept their precious community calm, and two days later when the Treaty of Coruscant was passed, all the captives had been released unharmed… including Aitahea, her Force-sensitivity and Jedi training carefully hidden.

And she knew she owed everything to them. Her parents, who continued to teach. The remaining Jedi who whisked her off Courscant and continued her training. Her master, her friends, and those who had perished at the hands of the Sith.

When Aitahea dreamed of the Jedi Temple, all her trials, all her knowledge, all her triumphs against the Sith felt small next to the sacrifices of those who had come before her.

There was no point in lingering on the sadness of the past; that way lay the dark side. With a sigh, the consular set her lightsaber down again and rose from her bed, smoothing back the soft coverlet before tapping the control pad to brighten the room. Her quarters on the Luminous were austere but comfortable in typical Jedi aesthetic.  It was even starting to feel a little like home.

She plaited her ashen hair into a neatly woven braid coiled around her head, then dressed in the earthtone robes of the Order. She wore almost no armor, relying instead on more peaceful methods of interaction. When diplomacy failed to diffuse a dangerous situation, the light tunic and robes allowed for the agility and speed she preferred. She’d just slipped into the subtly-patterned chestnut cloak when the comm in her room pinged.

“Master, are you awake?” A robotic voice called across the connection. It was the ship’s droid, fretfulness pitching his vocalizations higher than expected. “I’m deeply sorry to disturb your rest, Master, but we’re coming up on Taris.”

“Thank you, See-Two, I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Of course, Master.”

Aitahea smiled at the earnest voice, then ran a hand lightly over her hair one last time, smoothing a few strands back into the coronet. She left the hood of her cloak down and clipped her lightsaber to her belt before exiting her quarters. The Luminous hosted not only herself and the fretful protocol droid, but her friend and pilot, Prelsiava Tern. Sia, as the Mirialan liked to be called, had joined Aitahea during her visit to Coruscant as she quested for a cure for her Master, Yuon Par.

Fortunately, Yuon’s cure had indeed been found. Aitahea had sought out the Noetikons scattered throughout the capital world and brought them together, making a dangerous journey to the demolished Jedi Temple to learn their secrets.

The visit to her childhood home would have been unsettling enough but having to set foot in the shattered Jedi Temple after so many years stirred emotions in her that she’d thought resolved. Perhaps that had been the source of her lurid vision… of course. It was only an ordinary dream, her unconscious mind simply sorting out her feelings as she slept.

In the main room, Aitahea shook her head before activating the holocomm, stepping back to see Syo Bakarn. “Master,” she acknowledged and offered a respectful bow.

“Aitahea, it’s good to hear from you. The Council has sensed your arrival on Taris. An intriguing world.”

“It is, Master. I reviewed the history while we traveled. This is the site of Bastila Shan’s escape from the Empire, if I’m recalling correctly.”

“That, as well as being a world much like Coruscant, before Darth Malak caused the destruction that reduced them to poisoned swamplands.” Master Syo continued, giving Aitahea the details of her mission on Taris while she made notes on her datapad.

“I’ll do everything I can for Master Tykan, and I’ll be watching for evidence regarding the creator of this plague.”

“Thank you, Aitahea. It may be possible that your skills will be required for other tasks on Taris. Assist where you can, but do not tarry. We will be waiting on your word. Good luck.”

“The Force will be with us, Master.”

[Tumblr Masterpost] [AO3 Link] [Soundtrack] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[shimmersing]

Something Better

[Tumblr Masterpost] [AO3 Link] [Soundtrack] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Chapter 3: Unexpected Peace

Travel through Taris was hazardous at the best of times, deadly at the worst, and annoying at all other times. The planet was overrun with not only rakghouls, but other dangerous species that had flourished in the polluted environment. Aitahea and Erithon’s progress was slower than either of them would have liked, finding it necessary to dispatch a number of aggressive creatures in their path.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Aitahea found herself smiling as they traversed the recklessly beautiful landscape. Erithon’s interest and concern about her history had been genuine, and his chagrin at unsettling her just as real. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have shared the details of her traumatic childhood, brushing any concerns aside and refocusing on their goal. But his sympathy felt like a warm embrace, unfamiliar yet irresistible. Her thoughts had lingered on that feeling for far too long, and she pulled her concentration back to their shared task.

As darkness drew close, they determined that making camp would be a necessity. The rest would be necessary to restore their strength, and nighttime travel was even more hazardous than daytime.

Though it was hazy and humid the temperature was comfortable enough, and the pair settled adjacent to each other to share some of the bland Republic rations as night fell. Aitahea felt an unexpected peace as they rested, only the echoes of wildlife interrupting the stillness. She could sense a quiet curiosity behind Erithon’s contented mood, his silence laced with an expectant hush that waited for her to fill it. She found herself suddenly grateful for the gathering darkness.

"Why are you here?" she asked softly, pushing back her hood.

Erithon considered before answering, gaze still fixed on the landscape. “On Taris? Hunting traitors."

Aitahea’s brows rose. “High enough in rank to require the intervention of Republic special forces? That seems unusual.”

“Well,” he drew out, expression grim, “since the traitors were also Havoc, it kind of leaves the burden on me, I guess.”

The Jedi frowned. Erithon’s tangled emotions seemed as baffling to him as they did to her. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Not sure I do, either, Master Jedi.” Erithon shifted and leaned back, his pack pillowed behind his head. “I’d only just arrived on Ord Mantell when it all fell apart. Doesn’t leave a man feeling very confident when an assignment goes sideways like that.”

Aitahea was quiet for a generous moment before swiveling around to face him. “What happened?”

“Typical mission, nothing out of the ordinary, especially not for Havoc.” He glanced sideways and gave her a crooked smile. “I guess you know about the mess with the Separatists on Ord Mantell.” Aitahea nodded. “They’d shot down a ship with a ZR-57 orbital strike bomb, capable of vaporizing a city, you know how it is. Havoc was supposed to retrieve it. At least it looked that way to the new guy.” His smirk turned to an unhappy frown. “Turns out they were taking the bomb along with them, to the Empire.”

Aitahea’s intake of breath was harsh in the silence. “They didn’t include you in their plans?”

“Not exactly. When we first lost contact we thought they’d been killed, which was bad enough. SpecOps are always high risk, but Havoc is – was – the best. When I discovered their true intentions, Tavus – the commander – asked if I’d join them. I’m sure you can guess my answer given where we are now.” He coughed a harsh laugh. “I don’t know what offended me more: asking me to turn traitor or trying to kill me.”

The weight of his frustration felt as heavy as beskar. Aitahea brushed away the desire to reach over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It must have shaken you to the core.”

He frowned for a long moment, then rolled to the side so he could face her, propped up on an elbow. “For a minute, maybe. But then I realized, what they chose didn’t change me.” Erithon met Aitahea’s gaze, his blue eyes earnest. “The people of the Republic have my loyalty. I chose to protect them. Like those settler kids you sorted out at the base.”

“You know about that?” Aitahea blinked, freshly thankful for the concealing darkness.

“It was practically all Private Sakal could talk about.” Erithon gave her a cheeky grin before continuing. “The way you convinced the property owners and the settlers to work together, that’s what we work for. Tavus walked away from that, and I don’t even know why.” He grimaced again and raked a hand through his hair, the motion revealing his confusion. “I guess… things aren’t as black and white as they look.”

Aitahea smiled ruefully. “They do seem less and less so, don’t they?”

Erithon arched a brow at her. “That’s funny coming from you. I thought light and dark were what Jedi specialized in.” Despite the unease his words sent through her, she sensed his intention was candid, not caustic.

Her gaze lingered on her hands, clasped on her lap, before she answered. “So did I.”

The stream was a reasonable distance from the Republic camp, but Master Satele had said it was still close enough to be safe. Aitahea liked to steal away as often as she could manage. She could almost feel Master Faron and her friends here. Almost. It reminded her of the gardens in the Jedi Temple, though everyone said her former home was little more than a pile of rubble now. She was glad she hadn’t seen it. She wanted to remember Coruscant the way it had been.

The camp was getting bigger. There was supposed to be a treaty in place now, but no one was any more relaxed. There was a hush of uneasiness among the soldiers. Their restlessness made Aitahea herself feel unsteady and irritable. More and more Jedi initiates, even some younger Padawans, had been slowly trickling in, and now there were almost a dozen of them. Safe on Brentaal, waiting while the masters found safe places for them. The girl tried hard to make sense of this. If the Jedi Temple on Coruscant hadn’t been safe, where in the galaxy would be?

The sound of bubbling water diverted her unhappy thoughts. Meditation was easy here, unlike in the camp – though Master Satele would tell her that focus under pressure was the sign of a good Jedi – and Aitahea had no trouble quieting her mind and settling into the embrace of the Force. The little brook had become a place of comfort, isolation, and peace.

Aitahea frowned and slowed to a stop, a stone’s throw from the running water. Someone was sitting in her spot. A boy, maybe a year or two older than her, right on the branch that arched over the water. He hunched over with his elbows on his knees, legs swinging listlessly.

It was like looking in a mirror.

Even with her defenses up, sheltering her from the influence of others’ emotions, his loss radiated like a flame. Her chest contracted with anguish, the unexpected mingling of emotion, setting her knees wobbling. She felt tears well up, the walls around her heart crumbling. Absently, she took another step forward, an unnoticed twig cracking under her foot.

She looked down in alarm and by the time she’d lifted her gaze again, the boy was already scrambling back across the branch, nearly slipping into the water at one point. He stopped at the opposite bank and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were red-rimmed and cheeks flushed. He’d been crying.

“Aitahea!” Master Satele’s voice came sailing over the rise, and the girl twisted around to look back towards camp. She took a deep breath to call back, thought better of it, and turned back to the brook. The boy was already disappearing swiftly in the opposite direction.

Reluctantly, Aitahea moved toward the summons, leaving behind her refuge and her questions.

Erithon had offered to take the first watch, and Aitahea had accepted readily. She was only a few steps away from him, curled up with her cheek on one hand, hood pulled back up over her hair. He watched her settle into dreaming, eyes flickering beneath her lids, and every so often her lips pursed. He indulged his wandering imagination, wondering what she dreamed, vaguely hoping he might be included in the unconscious cast.

It was the first time he’d spent any substantial time in close quarters with a Jedi. He guessed she was pretty typical, all her responses focused and composed. Being near her was comforting, soothing. But there was something else under all that formality, something earnest and endearing. He felt the usual anxiety of the mission fall away like a worn cloak.

And stars, she was beautiful.

He’d been genuinely surprised when she asked if they’d met, and despite his somewhat clumsy response, it was the truth. They’d apparently been on Coruscant at the same time; had they crossed paths and it didn’t register? It would have been hard to forget the curve of her cheek, bright eyes framed by dark lashes-

By the Core, he thought, exasperated. Are you a teenager? Stop that.

He rolled his eyes and pulled out his datapad, checking messages and progress. Jorgan had messaged with positive results on an ancillary task, and the ship’s droid had sent several nonsense communications about really nothing at all. No distractions there. As the hours passed, he alternated between walking the perimeter of their small camp and returning to sit near the Jedi, each time admonishing himself for staring at her, though his remorse was only ever halfhearted.

She’d drawn him out with practiced ease, asking about his mission, soft words that slipped beneath his armor as effortlessly as rain. He hadn’t discussed the defection with anyone other than Garza and Jorgan, and then only out of necessity. He still stung about it, beyond the more generalized fury that accompanied the whole scenario. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, and too few answers. He felt like he was playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with Garza handing out intelligence whenever it seemed to suit her. He felt less and less guilty each time he fudged orders, finding a smug gratification in noncompliance. There were regulations, and then there was integrity, and so far Garza had been leaning a little too hard to the former for his taste.

The alarm on his datapad beeped quietly; the night’s tedious hours had passed, and it was Aitahea’s turn to take watch. Erithon almost didn’t want to wake her. He couldn’t deny enjoying the freedom to observe her, but he’d need rest himself to be at all helpful as they continued.

Erithon smiled regretfully and knelt next to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. A deep breath preceded her eyes fluttering open to meet his. Erithon felt his heartbeat speed up and hurriedly offered a hand to help her rise. Once on her feet, her brows drew together, watching him with solemn wonder.

“Jedi? Something wrong?”

Her intense gaze lingered even as she shook her head. “I’m well, thank you,” she replied, looking like she might say something else. He held his breath, but the moment passed and Aitahea shook her head again with a polite smile. “I’m ready to take watch. You should rest.”

He glanced down to see their hands still joined and pulled away self-consciously. “Yeah,” Erithon said, retreating to where his pack lay, punching it a few times before determining that it was comfortable enough. He flopped down, turned away from the Jedi, and waited impatiently for sleep.

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