Beyond - Legends Counting Stars (Post-FOTJ, K/J) Completed 8/19/16

Sweet kind upbeat message from Thelia. Ow, the whole tone of this musing of Kyp's is resigned and full of pathos. I just wanna give him a hug. You've made me remember all the nummy whys of my Kyp-fascination. Thanks oodles for that!

 

You're welcome! Kyp's been my favourite for as long as I can remember. I hate that he got reduced to a background character.

 

--Glass--

She's never understood why some people insist on making things out of glass when transparisteel is available. It looks exactly the same to her eye, and it's a million times stronger.

But she understands completely when someone refers to a "heart of glass".

Kyp Durron isn't someone she would have ever figured to have one. Jaina's always thought his to be made of cortosis. She hadn't given a thought to how he must have been feeling the day of her wedding. She'd been in orbit, so to speak, so happy to be marrying Jag that she hadn't noticed anything else.

Sitting in the Masters' Council, as they discuss the latest reports from the Knights they sent out--looking for Kesh, the planet of the Sith, or for the Mortis Monolith--Jaina doesn't pay attention to the current speaker. Oh, she's looking at him, pretending to listen, but all her attention is on the Jedi Master just to her right.

Kyp sits with a slight frown as he listens. They've lost contact with another of the Knights, and his concern is visible on his face when Jaina glances his way.

She wonders why she didn't notice how upset he'd been. Why her father hadn't said anything. Then she chides herself. Of course he wouldn't tell her. It was none of her business.

She looks a little too long. Sensing her gaze on him, Kyp turns her way, one brow cocked in a silent question. Jaina shakes her head, and looks back to the hologram of the speaker projected in the middle of the circle.

You can repair glass, she thinks, but it's never the same afterwards. She should know; her own shattered when Jacen died. It's harder now, but it still chipped when she walked away from Jag.

She looks at Kyp out of the corner of her eye, finds he's still looking at her, much the same way she's looking at him.

She doesn't want her heart to break again.

She doesn't want to break his again, either.

Troubled, she makes herself focus on the report. Her love life can wait.

 

Nyota's Heart, I updated! Just so you know I didn't die.

 

Hi, hope you're feeling somewhat better.

A beautiful and thought-provoking use of "Glass." Very very true about literal and figurative fragile things. They mend but they're never the same afterwards.

Yup, Jaina is caught between now what do I do with not wanting to hurt Kyp or be hurt herself.

 

--Crimson--

They're on the planet all of half an hour when the riot starts. They were sent specifically in case this happened: Sword of the Jedi and Destroyer of Worlds, there to deal with a potentially catastrophic revolution.

Worlds all through the galaxy have been shoving off the chains of slavery for close to two years now, everywhere the Galactic Alliance hasn't been able--or willing--to reach. Kyp's past as a slave makes him particularly interested in this cause. Jaina's there because they're partners, and she's the Jedi's deadliest weapon.

Sometimes, even peacekeepers need to bring out the big guns.

Someone's hired Mandalorians again. Jaina lived with the Mandos once, trained with them. No one knows how they fight better than she does. And the hired soldiers are on the wrong side.

Standing back to back in the middle of the street, Kyp says, "We haven't done this in a while."

"Done what?"

"Fought together."

Jaina deflects a blaster bolt back to its source, knocking the Mando off his feet. "I can't actually recall the last time."

Tired of dealing with one of the armoured men hiding behind an overturned hovervan, Kyp grabs the vehicle with the Force and shoves it back into the crowd of soldiers. They yell and scatter.

One of them gets in a lucky shot, and the blast hits Kyp in the upper arm. Blood spills in a crimson streak down the sleeve of his robes. Jaina snaps, "Get down!" and he drops to a knee, pressing his unhurt hand to the wound to stem the flow. In the meantime, Jaina pulls her own blaster, shooting under the cover of her amethyst blade.

"I'm fine," Kyp tells her. "It's just a graze."

He stands, and Jaina quickly checks him for any other wounds. There are none, for which she's very relieved.

The fight is over in minutes, the Mandalorians routed for the time being. Jaina drags Kyp into the local infirmary and forceably strips off the outer layer of his robes. His arm is smeared with blood.

"I haven't seen you hurt in years," she says. "Getting old, are we?"

"It was a lucky shot," he insists.

Since the staff is shorthanded, Jaina cleans his wound herself. She's unsettled that he was hurt. She's used to injuries herself, but the thought of something happening to Kyp makes her stomach ache.

Something must show on her face, because Kyp catches her chin in his hand as she's smoothing the bacta patch over his bicep.

"Hey," he says. "I've had worse. This is nothing."

"I know," she says, quickly avoiding his gaze, and he drops his hand. "I've just never liked seeing you hurt. If anyone's going to hurt you, Durron, it's going to be me."

He laughs. The knot in her belly eases at the sound. "Spar with me sometime, then, and you can try."

She gives him a half smile and picks up the torn, bloody robe. It's warm from his body, soft from years of wear. "You want to try to repair this, or chuck it?"

"Repair it," he says. "We aren't made of money anymore."

Jaina hands it back, catching a whiff of the cologne he wears as she does. "We'll go through stuff faster if you insist on bleeding on everything."

He smirks.

"Okay, you're patched up. Let's get back to work."

 

Love the concern and the teasing and the little notices Jaina has about his cologne etc. !! I've missed these, truly.

 

Wow, that was fast! Yeah, I haven't done much writing this week, between the headache, my sinus infection, and my general upset over that nasty reviewer. Realised I hadn't updated in a few days and decided the best way to say "screw you" to that jerk was to keep posting.

 

--Twilight--

She's sitting in the garden again, watching little fireflies flit around, when a lithe blonde figure emerges from the falling darkness and drops to sit next to her on the bench. Tahiri is barefoot, as usual, which makes Jaina smile.

"You're not the usual type for quiet contemplation," Tahiri says. "Your meditation technique usually involves punching things into submission."

Jaina laughs. "I did that earlier. Decided to take a walk, got distracted by the glowy bugs."

Tahiri watches the lights blink and flicker as the insects zoom around the garden. "They didn't have these on Tatooine, or on Yavin."

"I know there are a bunch of places that have them, but I've never really gotten a good look at them before," Jaina says. "They look so magical."

"Even when you know they're a bunch of glowing butts," Tahiri quips, and the two women laugh.

Tahiri's officially been back in the Order a little under two years. Her life has been as convoluted and heartbreaking as Jaina's, just in different ways. Around the same people, though.

Jaina's only a little resentful when Tahiri brings up one of them.

"So. When were you gonna tell me you and Jag got divorced?"

"Eventually. I just haven't . . . Announcing it seems like admitting failure." She looks over at her friend. "Who told you?"

"Jag."

Jaina nods.

"We still talk," Tahiri says. "We became friends when I was his Hand. But I'm surprised to learn it from him and not you."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you when it happened, I just . . . couldn't. I still haven't told most of the Council."

"But you told Kyp."

"It's a little difficult to keep secrets from Kyp Durron."

Tahiri laughs. "That is very true."

Then she asks, "Why? I mean, why did you and Jag split up?"

"What did Jag say about it?"

"That you chose the Jedi over him."

Jaina shrugs. "The way I see it, he chose the Empire over me. It's always been the source of our problems."

Tahiri nods. "And you're not suited to the Empire."

Jaina's laugh is explosive. "Me? Not in the slightest. You're more suited to that than I am."

The other woman tenses. "Why, because I worked as Jag's Hand, or because I was an apprentice to a Sith Lord?"

Sighing, Jaina shakes her head. "It's definitely not because of Jacen, Tahiri. Don't do that. I know who and what my brother was and I know what he was doing to you. I just meant . . . You think more like an Imperial than I do. Jag had nothing but praise for you after you helped him with Daala and the election and Abeloth."

Mollified, Tahiri relaxes. "Sorry. It's still . . . touchy."

"Understandable."

The blonde clears her throat. "So, speaking of the Empire, Jag had some news."

Jaina suddenly has a bad feeling about this.

 

Wonderful conversation - full of laughter and then honesty. I like that they can share and confide. I am struck that Jaina's and Jag's version are opposites as to what broke them apart but the common factor is a choice of something important that excluded the other.

I can totally understand Jaina's reluctance to tell it around that they split.

I enjoyed the setting too - it's peaceful - just what is needed, glowy bug butts and all

 

In the comics, post-Fate of the Jedi, Jag was Emperor Fel I, which didn't fit with his leaving the Empire to marry Jaina in the books, or with who *Jaina* is. I really don't think Jaina would ever willingly be the Empress to Jag's Emperor. It isn't who she is as a person. So, to me, especially given their horrendous track record of breaking up constantly, she wouldn't stay. Ergo... Which plays very much into the next bit, that I'll probably post later today.

 

I have really been enjoying this story so please keep at it. Every time I see a new post I feel a flutter of excitement! You write the best Kyp and Jaina. Must admit I have been routinely refreshing your page at A2O3 way too often just in case there is new content!

Despite my happiness at getting new star wars movies, I was sad that new stories involving Kyp and Jaina would fade away with the new cannon. Please know you are bringing me great happiness at keeping them alive and having adventures.

 

Despite my happiness at getting new star wars movies, I was sad that new stories involving Kyp and Jaina would fade away with the new cannon. Please know you are bringing me great happiness at keeping them alive and having adventures. Seconded and thirded!

 

K/J is my life. (Not entirely, but close!) I honestly forgot how much I love writing them because I got sucked into other things. But I love writing them. I posted a new one over there last night cause I can't post it here. *cough* Not sure if you've seen it.

Aw, thanks!

 

--Hands--

He’s working on his datapad when she pauses in his office doorway. It's late, the students and others retired, but Kyp Durron is still awake, going over a report or something.

Jaina taps at the doorframe and he looks up, face bleached of colour by the datapad’s display. He blinks, as if just realising it's gotten dark.

“You're working late,” she says as she enters.

Kyp leans over and taps the lamp on his desk, turning it on. It spills warm, golden light through the room. “Luke wanted me to look over some things.”

She perches on the edge of the desk. “I just had some news.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“The Imperial Remnant has joined with the Empire of the Hand under one banner.”

His brow furrows. “You hear this from Jag?”

She shakes her head. “No. Tahiri.”

Kyp sets down the datapad. “Tahiri,” he repeats. “Why…?”

She shrugs. “She worked for him. They keep in better contact.”

Leaning back in his chair, Kyp frowns. “Okay. So they're regrouping.”

“It gets better. They're renaming themselves, and are considering declaring themselves hostile to the Galactic Alliance. They've named an Emperor.”

They both consider that in silence.

“Do I want to know?” he asks finally.

She looks down at her ringless fingers. “As of this morning, the Imperial Remnant is now the Galactic Empire, under the rule of Emperor Jagged Fel.”

For once, Kyp doesn't have a single smart remark. He stares at her, mouth hanging open.

“Looks like I really dodged a thud bug there, huh?” she asks, and her voice is bleak. “I don't know if he wanted me to be his Empress, or if this is retaliation for my divorcing him.”

Kyp stands and guides her over to the sofa that takes up part of one wall, beside a mini-fridge and a small food prep unit. He fetches a bottle of Corellian whiskey from the cupboard and pours her a small amount in a tumbler, handing it over before he pours himself a glass.

She could remark on his penchant for alcohol, given what she learned from Allana, but this isn't the time, and she'd only be doing it to lash out. Kyp doesn't deserve that.

Jaina wraps her fingers around the glass, staring into the liquid. She's still a little numb from Tahiri’s report. Her ex-husband is an emperor. If Jacen were alive, he'd be ribbing her mercilessly.

But he's not. She killed him almost four years ago.

She takes a large gulp of the liquor, managing not to wince as it burns its way down. She does cough a little.

“You're supposed to sip it,” Kyp says, “not inhale it.”

“Kyp, please don't be facetious right now.”

He toasts her silently and takes a drink.

Jaina rolls the glass between her hands, back and forth, while she tries to think of words. They both know this was never what she wanted, what she never would have wanted. And though she divorced him months before, she still loves him.

Wisely, Kyp offers no disparaging remarks, no wise cracks. As he did the day she told him her marriage was over, he merely sits in silent support while she gathers her thoughts.

“Did I do this?” she asks finally. “Did I make him become this?”

He drains his glass and sets it on the low table in front of the sofa.

“No,” Kyp tells her. “Unless you held a blaster to his head or possessed him or something, you didn't make Jag do anything. I suspect he got a taste of power when he was Head of State and he liked it. He wanted more, but he also wanted you. Since he risked losing you, he stepped down, got you to marry him, then planned to gradually introduce you to the idea. This is speculation, mind you. I've never trawled through his brain or anything.”

She snorts.

“So,” he continues, “you leave him because he's pushing you, yet again, to leave the Jedi, your family, and everything you've worked for your whole life, to move to the Unknown Regions. He figures, what the hell, he's got nothing to lose now, so he steps up and takes the throne.”

She nods. Everything he says makes perfect sense. “The things I let him do…”

Kyp arches a brow. Jaina reaches over and smacks his leg, where it's bent up on the sofa, since he's sitting sideways, facing her.

“Not like that, you nerf,” she grumps, flushing, and he snickers.

“If ‘not like that’, do elaborate. I don't want details on ‘that’, I should add.”

She rolls her eyes. “I loved him. I think part of me always will. But there were just so many little things. I never did things the way he thought I should. I was too reckless for his tastes. I was never polished enough. He didn't want me to be a Jedi.”

“Which shows a fundamental lack of understanding about who you are,” Kyp points out.

“Exactly. He criticised and pushed and harassed when I was trying to figure out how to fight Jacen. He got me so angry once that I pushed him into a tree. And then there was the time he assaulted me in my quarters, in the dark, and kissed me.”

Kyp goes dangerously still. “When was this?” he asks, and his voice is carefully controlled.

She waves a hand. It's long in the past, and she doesn't want him storming off to pound Jag into blorash jelly. "Please don't go start a war. I haven't fully recovered from the last three. Anyway, it was back during the Vong war, before we went after the Peace Brigade on Ylesia. Right after Jacen came back.”

He's clearly bothered by her confession, and she reflects that, technically speaking, it could be considered sexual assault. And his desire to avenge it this long after is really sweet. “Jay, I'm going to be very blunt here. Did you lose your vaping mind?! Why the hell did you keep seeing that pile of bantha droppings, let alone marry him?”

She sets her glass down and pressed the heels of both hands to her forehead, propping her elbows on her knees. “Because I loved him, and because Uncle Luke said I was going to be alone, and I latched onto Jag because I was terrified he was right and I wanted to prove him wrong.”

Kyp makes a derisive sound. “You married an emotionally abusive megalomaniac to spite your uncle.”

To their mutual surprise, she laughs. It’s a little bitter, and not pretty, but it still holds amusement. Self-deprecating amusement, but amusement nonetheless.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“And people think I’m masochistic,” he mutters darkly, and rises to pour himself another drink.

When he comes back, it's with the bottle. He sets it on the table and reclaims his seat.

“You didn't just dodge a thud bug, Jaina, you dodged kriffing worldship.”

“I should tell Uncle Luke. My parents.”

“You haven't?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

“No. I… wanted to talk it out with you first, before I said anything. I mean, what am I gonna say?”

“Same thing you told me. Jag's gone crazy and declared himself emperor.”

She sighs and lifts her head, eyes closed as she leans back on the sofa. “They'll want to do something about him.”

“That's not our arena anymore,” he reminds her. “At least until he does something stupid, like attack the Alliance. Then they need to submit a formal, notarised request in triplicate. Even then, I'm done with politics. I never wanted to be involved, I only did it as a favour to Luke.”

“I miss when things were pretty simple, before the invasion. All I had planned was to be a Jedi and have my own ship.”

“Things don't have to be that complicated now. You're a Jedi, a Jedi Master, and I'm sure your sister-in-law would give you any ship you wanted.”

Jaina shakes her head. “She's not my sister-in-law.”

“She's the mother of your niece. And I'm sure that if Jacen hadn't turned, they'd be married now. That's close enough for me.”

Jaina doesn't like thinking about Jacen, or what might have been if he hadn't become a Sith Lord and tried to take over the galaxy. “Ugh,” she groans. “First my grandfather, then my brother, and then my ex-husband. What is it about my family that attracts this need to dominate the universe?”

“Just lucky, I guess. For the record, I have never attempted galactic domination, nor do I want to.” His smile is wry. “For one, it's too much work.”

“You weren't a very good Sith, either. You lasted, what, a week?” Jaina knows she's the only one who can tease him about that, just as he's the only one who dares bring up her own downward slide.

“You're one to talk. All you managed was some questionable behaviour. ‘I'm such a Dark Jedi! I mind-wiped a morally corrupt scientist and I used Force lightning once on some bad guys!’”

She laughs out loud at his bad falsetto imitation. Only they, two survivors of the dark, dare joke about such things. It's one of the reasons they get along so well. At least when she's not feeling prickly over his… attraction.

Jaina eyes him, glass in hand. He's mellowed a lot since she was briefly his apprentice, the cocky and antagonistic side fading like the grey in his hair. She remembers when he was bold and dashing and dangerous. He's still dangerous, but more honed now. Dangerous in different ways.

He smirks, and something in her stomach tingles, and she thinks, “No, still dangerous the same ways.”

The day he sat with her while she cried for the end of the marriage she'd pinned all her hopes on, they'd had a moment, one she had pushed away into a little box with all the other moments over the years. He's loved her nearly two decades, and she's known it that long. He flirted before Jag, teasing her, making her feel things she was too young to handle. He's only spoken of his feelings once, and then only in passing.

They've never brought it up, but he'd ended a fairly serious relationship with a woman who had wanted to marry him, because he'd known it was a choice between his girlfriend or her. He'd never said it, but when the stupid yellow airspeeder never made a return appearance, and the woman hadn't evacuated Coruscant with them, Jaina knew.

Sitting here, knowing she has his complete support, his love, no longer seems scary. One unfortunate incident when she was eighteen aside--one that had ended up being for the greater good, no matter her anger at the time--Kyp had never pushed her too far, never tried to force her hand and change her into something she wasn't.

He'd been the only one who cared for her when Anakin died. And when Jacen was lost, when she had, as Sword of the Jedi, been forced to kill her twin, he'd been there for her. Weeks in the medcenter, recovering from a shattered hand and a lightsaber slice across her abdomen, but more from the broken heart she'd suffered, and Kyp had come to visit her nearly every day. To talk, to listen, to tell lousy jokes or to sit with her while she screamed over the injustice of it all.

And he'd never once made that move, knowing she was unready, unwilling, unable to reciprocate.

His smirk slowly dies the longer she looks at him, replaced with concern, then unease. “What?” he demands finally.

“I mess things up,” she says. “Friendships, relationships. Everything with Zekk was a disaster, and then Jag was even worse. Tahiri barely speaks to me. You and Tenel Ka are just about my only close friends left. She can't leave because she's family now. I'm kind of terrified that I'll do something to make you run screaming.”

He shakes his head. “That is the most groundless fear you could have.”

“Is it? What if you meet someone and she doesn't like you hanging out with me?”

“That already happened.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. You said her speeder was ugly.”

He stretches his arm along the back of the sofa, towards her. His fingers are almost as battered as hers, and she notices, not for the first time, that the digits are a little misshapen. From what, she doesn't know. The scars on his arms are from surgery when he was just shy of seventeen. They'd had to cut him open nearly everywhere, because the Sun Crusher hadn't had an escape pod and he'd had to break most of the bones in his body to fit into a message cylinder instead. It had nearly killed him.

She traces one faded, white line that runs the length of his forearm. Her fingers, too, will never be the same as they were before Caedus pulverised her hand under his boot heel in an attempt to keep her from wielding her lightsaber against him.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asks, his voice low.

“Crucibles,” she murmurs. “Or… how they make blades the really old way, tempering steel by folding it and pounding it, over and over. I feel very tempered right now.”

He catches her hand, the one Caedus had crushed, and presses their hands together, palm to palm. “Well, you're certainly battle scarred.”

“So are you. How do you keep it from crippling you?”

“Same way you do for the physical wounds. Keep moving. Use the muscles so they don't atrophy. Break up the scar tissue. Keep the blood moving.” He's rueful as he adds, “I had months of physical therapy after they reset my bones.”

She flexes her hand against his. “I thought I was going to lose the use of my hand. But I didn't.”

Kyp leans over, taps a finger just below her collarbone. “Same principle here.”

“Yeah?

“Yeah.” Then he settles back on his end of the sofa. “Zekk’s taken, but I'm sure you'll find someone else in time.”

"I haven't been interested in Zekk that way since I was seventeen. It just took him way too long to realise that." She bites the inside of her cheek. The same could potentially be said of Kyp, and yet... It could be the whiskey, or just emotional fatigue, but she says, “You said I couldn't scare you away.”

“Right.”

“Well. There might be someone.”

He's good, but not quite good enough to hide the dismay as fast as he'd probably like. The flicker of hurt that goes through his eyes makes something in her chest sting, for just a moment. “That was fast. You haven't even been divorced six months.”

“No,” she says slowly. “It's actually been a really long time.”

Kyp's green eyes reflect confusion. He cocks his head, an unspoken question on his handsome features. “Anyone I know?” he queries when the curiosity gets the better of him.

She's better at a sabacc face than he is. She's had practise, and he's always been too open to her. “Mm. That's a distinct possibility.”

He looks up and slightly to her left, black brows drawing together as he visibly thinks over who she could possibly know “a long time” that's still alive after three very brutal wars in twenty years.

“Someone from Rogue Squadron?” Kyp guesses.

“Someone I flew with,” she allows.

He's clearly drawing a blank. Jaina considers lengthening the torment just a bit, but she's not that sadistic. She huffs out a laugh and says, “Stang, you can be dense as duracrete sometimes, Durron.”

He starts to take offence, then he notices she's smiling smugly. It's clear the moment he realises, because he fumbles his glass and spills expensive whiskey on his robes.

“You could have just said-” he begins irritably, then stops, as it fully hits him.

“Messing with you is much more entertaining.” She takes a last sip of her second glass and put the tumbler down, pushing it with her fingertips so that it's out of reach. “I think I've had enough of that, even if my inclination right now is to drink myself into a stupor.”

Kyp's still looking at her with an expression somewhere between shock and distrust. “When you said you're messing with me…”

She sighs. “I don't want to screw up our friendship on a chance. I'm scared that … things would go the way everything else has. But…”

He sets his glass down with a thunk. “But.”

“I have feelings for you that are not platonic,” Jaina says, measuring every word. She's not ready for a full declaration of anything yet. “And I suppose never have been.”

He's cautious, understandably so. “Okay. Are you thinking about… exploring these feelings?” He's casual, but there's a tremour of hope there, one he's obviously leery of letting grow. It's been a very long time, she knows. This isn't anything she says lightly. Not for this.

“I am.”

Kyp releases a breath and then doesn't seem to know how to react.

Jaina rolls her eyes. “Dammit, Kyp, it's been seventeen years. For once, just… Stop treating me like I'm going to shatter if you make a move.”

He stands, leans over, grabs her by the arm, and hauls her to her feet. She has a moment of surprise and confusion, and then he's holding her tight, his mouth covering hers.

She melts into him, her body moulding to his. She forgets her anxiety, her fears and regrets, as he kisses her. His hand cradles the back of her head, and his kiss takes her breath. It's firm but gentle, hinting at power and passion but not pushing. It's everything she hoped kissing him would be, and somehow more.

They separate by degrees, breath mingling as they pull apart. She feels a little unsteady, and holds him to keep her balance. There's no cockiness in him, just wonder and suffuse joy, and he smiles. It sends flutters clear to her toes.

“It's late,” she breathes. “And I need to go wake the old people to let them know what's happening before they hear it from anyone else.”

“I'll go roust Luke,” he volunteers, laughing a little at her description of her parents and uncle as “old people”. “You get Han and Leia.”

Kyp kisses her again, lightly. She hugs him for a long moment.

“I don't want to hide this. I don't care who knows or what they think,” she tells him. “I don't want secrets and lies and decoys. But just for now, just a few days, I want you to myself. I need to take this slow.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “We can do that.”

 

Love the progression! the what did I do? I don't wanna mess up thing to the teasing to the let's try. to this reader's SQUEEEEEE! Yuuuum! It's a glorious fantastic thing when the person who's loved you and consoled you through so much is the one you feel the same way about. That mutual realization and readiness is a nice thing for both of them. A sigh of relief. Kyp's thinking about time and I almost thought it wouldn't.

Terrific insights he had about how to move on and not get crippled, literally and otherwise.

 

The moment Kyp realises that she's talking about being interested in him romantically was one of my favourite to write so far. I can just see the look on his face as it hits him that, after seventeen years, she's saying "I like you back, and I want to do this".

 

--Sacrifice--

News breaks before they've even gotten to bed that Jagged Fel, former Imperial Head of State, is now Emperor Fel, and half the broadcasts demand to know where his wife, famed Jedi Master Jaina Solo Fel, is in all of this. Surely the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo would never be an empress!

She's honestly surprised that news of her divorce stayed under wraps this long. She watches the holonews wearily for a while, then flips it off and crashes into bed.

Jaina forgets to turn off her commlink, and it begins going off incessantly. She stares at it, too muddled to move, and then the door opens, Kyp lets himself in. She's somehow not surprised he has the keycode to her quarters.

Without a word, he picks it up, turns it off, and shoves it in his pocket. Then he leaves. When she wakes in the morning, she finds him asleep on her sofa.

Han and Leia drop by soon after, while Jaina is taking a long, hot sonic shower. When Kyp answers the door, Han merely raises a brow. Leia is a little more direct.

“You're here early,” she says.

Kyp scratches a hand through still-mostly-dark curls. “I've been keeping an eye on her communicator and pondering damage control.”

They've already discussed what to do about Emperor Fel, and decided, for the moment, to do nothing. But Jaina needs to make a statement, and Leia is there to help her come up with one. Allana is in class at this hour, and won't join them until later.

Jaina emerges from the refresher. Kyp has gone, though his commlink and datapad still lay on her dining table. Han is in her kitchen area, making breakfast. Leia sits on the sofa, drafting a statement on her own datapad.

Standing in bare feet, a tunic and leggings, Jaina asks, “Is this really happening? Or am I just having a particularly strange bad dream?”

Han has made scrambled eggs, with cheese made from blue milk, and he brings a platter to the table. He sets out four plates. Leia doesn't comment on that, and when Kyp comes in, showered and in fresh robes, not a word is said about it.

“I've got a basic statement,” Leia tells her daughter. “It says that you and Jag separated earlier this year, that you remain dedicated to the Jedi and the Galactic Alliance, and that you have, at this time, no involvement in, knowledge of, or comment on these events.”

Jaina pokes her eggs with a fork. “That sounds good to me. Can I just… Never leave here and hide for the rest of my life? I don't want reporters following me around again.”

Kyp, who has been quiet until now, says, “I can fry their cameras or something, from the inside.”

Jaina grins briefly. “That would be fun. But only as a last resort.”

When they're finished eating, Kyp clears the table. Han leans back in his chair and asks, “How long you two been seeing each other?”

Jaina pauses with her mug of caf almost to her mouth. Her eyes dart to Kyp, who has set the dishes down and is leaning with his back to the sink, hands braced on the counter, looking back at her. His face says it's up to her.

“Uh. What makes you ask?” she inquires, and Kyp makes a face at her obvious stall.

Han gives her his best “don't try that with me, I'm not an idiot” look.

Jaina doesn't take her eyes off Kyp as she asks, “Officially or unofficially?”

Han makes a noise in the back of his throat that's hard to describe. “Officially, Jaina. You two have been ‘unofficial’ for as long as Ben’s been alive.”

It's an echo of her conversation with Kyp on the day she told him she was divorced as she says, “Officially, yesterday.”

Leia looks between them, sighs, and takes a sip of her caf. Han looks smug.

Kyp relaxes and turns back to the dishes.

“We weren't going to say anything for a bit,” Jaina admits. “Wait to let the … drama blow over. I don't want anyone thinking Kyp had anything to do with my leaving Jag.”

"Which I definitely didn't," he says. "Part of me wishes I had."

"More specifically, I don't want Jag thinking Kyp had a hand in it, because he just might call for his head," Jaina continues. "He pretended he wasn't serious about getting Daala to extradite Kyp to Bastion for Carida, but . . . He's always been jealous. I don't know what he'd do if . . ."

Kyp comes back to the table and when he does, he shifts his chair a little closer to her. He takes her hand, and Leia watches him do it. She is clearly trying to decide if this development is good or bad. Then again, in recent years her only objection has been their age difference, and really, at this point, Kyp is a better choice for her daughter than a man who just declared himself emperor.

Jaina looks up at him, suddenly no longer guilty that he broke Thelia Brandt's heart for her. She can't imagine what it would be like if Kyp had married the woman, if she left Jag and found that this man she has loved in one way or another since the age of eighteen couldn't be here.

The thought turns her stomach as much as learning of Jag's new role.

Leia drags her eyes from their clasped hands and says, "I know that you don't want to hide your relationship, especially after the lengths you had to go to for a while with Jag, but I think that keeping it private for now would be best. You don't want the attention, and this would be . . . what's that phrase Ackbar used, Han, about bait?"

"Chumming the waters," her husband says. "Tossing bloody meat into the water to attract sharks."

Jaina searches Kyp's face. "I'm not ashamed," she assures him. "But I don't want being with you to cause problems. We don't need the press stalking us, especially right now, and we also don't need the new emperor getting it into his head that he needs to come after you."

"I'm not thrilled, but I agree," he says.

“So, for now, only the four of us know,” Jaina sighs.

“And Luke,” Han says.

Kyp raises a brow.

“As much as you think so, Kyp, Luke ain't an idiot.”

“I don't think he's an idiot. I just don't agree with him on a few things. Whether we have the same views or not, I have nothing but respect for Master Skywalker.”

Jaina stands, suddenly needing to move, and she trails her fingers over Kyp's shoulders as she goes by. It's the most natural thing in the universe, and she wonders why it took her so long to see it.

“They're going to blame this on the Jedi,” she says. “Everything is always our fault.”

Kyp reaches out, grabs her wrist. He draws her back. "Not if he doesn't find out until he's . . . calmed down."

She looks at their hands, her small one in his large one. "I don't want to keep it secret. I'm so kriffing tired of that. But we have to, and it's not fair."

"Just for a little while, Goddess," he says. "I'm okay with that."

His gaze is steady on hers, full of the love neither of them have declared. This isn't how she wanted things to start between them. But for the moment, they have no choice.

 

I approve of this scene.

 

Awesome and very plausible Very much an unwanted but thankfully temporary necessity.

 

Thanks!

Yeah, let's not tell the emperor that the guy he hates is now dating his ex. That would be *bad*.

 

--Listen--

After the council meeting, Kyp goes back to his quarters. He still has the reports Luke wanted him to read, and he figures it would be best if he not distract Jaina while she gives her statement.

It irritates him that this mess with Jag has happened, but he knows deep down that Emperor Fel would never have gone away quietly. Kyp hates how upset Jaina is over it. Her pain was supposed to stop when she left the guy, but her ex still manages to make her life difficult.

He's trying not to think about how his relationship with Jaina has changed. It doesn't seem real, and he's afraid that he's going to wake any moment, find himself asleep with his head on his desk, and it will have been a very strange dream.

There is a chime at his door, and he says, “Enter”. He's stared at the same chart for ten minutes now, making neither heads nor tails of it, and he realises he's more distracted than Jaina would be.

The door opens and Leia comes in. He'd been expecting Han, not his wife, and he has a second of fear. There is one person in the galaxy that intimidates him, and that is Leia Solo.

He sets the datapad down as she enters. Dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, both a dusty blue-purple, she takes the chair opposite him at his desk. For a moment, she doesn't speak, just looks around his office.

She's letting him sweat, and they both know it.

Since he knows better than to potentially mouth off to Leia, he waits.

When she speaks, it's with a tinge of amusement. She knows she scares him. “I'll get straight to the point. You and Jaina.”

“You told me on Hapes that if I hurt her, I'd be safer with the Vong,” he says softly.

Her brown eyes widen just a little. “You remember.”

“Of course I remember. I've lived my life by that ever since.” He rests his elbows on the desk, laces his fingers together.

“Well, there go all my prepared threats.”

They both smile, and Kyp realises that while Leia might not be fond of him, she no longer despises him.

He says, “As far as I'm concerned, Jaina is calling the shots right now, and I'm going to let her. I'd cut my own arm off with a spoon before I hurt her. I'm here to be what she needs when she needs it.”

“That's very selfless of you.”

“That's love.” There, he's admitted it aloud. He loves Jaina.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Then, “Why a spoon?”

“Because it's dull. It'd hurt more.”

Leia chuckles. After a moment, her expression turns serious. “I'm worried about her. That she'll do something rash and stupid.”

“What, like start dating me?”

“No. I don't know what, just… Something.”

Kyp nods. “I am, too. But Jaina is an adult and very headstrong. Best I can hope for is to try to direct the energy towards something more …”

“Productive?”

“That general direction, yeah.”

Leia says, “I never approved. But I admit that I am not perfect, and I am very protective of my daughter. I misjudged who you are, as if you're still sixteen.”

He rolls his shoulders. He knows what everyone thinks of him. He's spent over three decades trying to make up for Carida. “I love her, Leia. She will only get the best from me, for as long as I can manage that, because that's what she deserves.”

Her smile is wry. “I should have given the threatening mother speech to Jag, not you.”

“Or both of us. Realistically, he seemed like the more responsible, stable one,” he admits. “We couldn't have known this would happen.”

Leia rises. “I should go before Jaina catches me in here.”

“You're welcome to talk any time, Leia,” he says.

“You really have matured, haven't you?”

He smirks. “There's no need to be insulting.”

She laughs, and leaves without another word.

 

A wonderful accepting conversation. Candid and full of gentle teasing. You show a great grasp of Leia's character as well as Kyp's.

 

I actually usually have a difficult time writing Leia. So thank you!

 

--Secret--

Jaina spent years keeping her relationship with her ex-husband out of the public eye, even if it was fairly common knowledge.

Having to keep Kyp a complete secret chafes. He doesn't deserve that, and it's all because of Jag.

To help them out, give them an excuse to be together without anyone asking questions, Luke assigns them to be partners in charge of the Temple's StealthX wing. It's traditionally been under Kyp's oversight, but Jaina used to fly with him, used to fly with Rogue Squadron, and no one thinks anything of the change.

She's examining their contingent of StealthX fighters, looking for any repairs that need to be made, when he joins her.

"Master Solo," he says.

"Master Durron."

They grin at each other. Then her smile falters.

"Don't," he says gently. "It'll be okay."

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" she asks.

"I know you."

Jaina raps her knuckles on the plasteel hull of the fighter she's examining. She has to use a ladder because she's so short. Kyp can reach up and touch the bottom without any aid, and when he does so, she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Jaina," he says. "If it helps prevent Jag from starting a war, I'm willing to be your dirty little secret."

She gestures to her mechanic's jumpsuit, which is covered with grease, and says, "If anything, Durron, I'm your 'dirty little secret'."

Kyp laughs. "Point taken."

"I mean, really, you were thirty-two, hitting on an eighteen-year-old," she continues.

He makes a face. "Yeah, yeah, I know how questionable that was."

She hops down from the ladder. They're the only ones in the hangar except for a mouse droid. "Of course, I'm not eighteen anymore . . ."

Kyp backs her into the ladder, bracing one hand on it above her shoulder. "That is very true."

He leans in to kiss her.

His commlink goes off.

He thunks his head against the ladder, a particularly profane expletive on his lips.

She's laughing at him when hers goes off.

"Later," she promises.

"I'll hold you to that."

"You can hold me to anything you want."

"I will keep that in mind."