The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail […] and I would follow, even into death. (insp.)
i have loved the stars too fondly (jyn/cassian, rogue one)
Summary: During the award ceremony and celebrations after all their hard work comes to fruition and the Death Star is destroyed, Jyn is confronted by her partner, Cassian, over a few frivolous things that have managed to unsettle her nonetheless. (In which everyone survived to see the end of “A New Hope”, Jyn is forced out of her comfort zone, and Cassian perhaps isn’t as smooth as he thinks he is.) Who said peacetime would be easy and comfortable?
“though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect life; i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night” – sarah williams, “twelve hours: a legacy of verse”
Jyn pulled at the neck of her dress. The thin band around her neck wasn’t tight, but she was unaccustomed to the feel of such soft clothing. The material of the dress itself was light and thankfully didn’t cling to her small frame, the lavender dress drifting down to her ankles, touching her so that it only suggested the hint of any curves that she might have. It covered her back and chest, leaving no unseemly view of her cleavage, and the slits at the bottom were modest, going only up to her knees.
It was a beautiful dress - even she could grudgingly admit that - but it wasn’t her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress and she didn’t think that she had ever worn anything remotely close to this lovely. There had never been an occasion and it would’ve only hindered her besides. Dirt, oil, blood, and sweat had become as much a part of her clothing as pants and shirts. Now she was so clean that she felt like a layer of her own persona had been scrubbed away.
She may have been a part of a particularly dirty group of Rebels, but even she couldn’t look like a dirty scoundrel during the celebration of the Death Star’s destruction.
Summary: In which Han Solo’s attempt to make a certain princess jealous affects the wrong target, K-2’s statistics are not helpful to the situation, and Cassian has an understanding.
It had been three days since he had seen Jyn.
Not that he was counting them or anything. It merely occurred to Cassian as he was walking to the mess hall to get something to eat for breakfast. He had almost voiced this thought aloud, but then caught himself at the last minute. He didn’t know exactly what K-2 would say, except that it would be something that was far too…K-2 for him to deal with so early in the morning, so he kept his mouth shut and forced it out of his mind. Cassian was good at shoving thoughts away, filing them to be handled later or ignored completely.
It just happened that, like she was in person, thoughts of Jyn were difficult and hard to ignore.
He wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, so he only grabbed a strange-looking piece of fruit and then left the room. K-2 followed him, strangely silent except for the clanking of his metal footsteps, and Cassian considered himself lucky. It was hard to deal with K-2 talking his ear off some days this early. Luckily, nothing had really happened in a while. Or perhaps it was suspicious. Cassian couldn’t be sure; he had trouble deciphering between the two these days.
All he knew was that he hadn’t seen Jyn because she was off on a mission. She would have told him or he would have been with her. She was around here somewhere; he just didn’t know where and that bothered him. But then he didn’t have a say in what she did in her spare time. He didn’t give her orders. As if she would fully listen to him anyways. She’d just tilt her head to the side and give him a quirk of her lips, call him “Captain” in a melodramatic voice. No, she was free to do whatever she wanted when she wasn’t under orders.