Beyond - Legends Saga There Is Nothing Lost (AU, Allana/OC, Chaos Twins, Sky/Solos, Kessel Run Challenge & other stories)

SO BEHIND

This is classic Allana, in that it's genuinely thoughtful and she means it, and that she uses that genuine thoughtfulness to try to fool herself

Meesa be fetchin' thosa mooie mooie bombad roses righten away, Miss 'lana

I feel like my focus should be Allana appreciating the view, but what catches my attention is that Han still dresses like this when he can

Silly girl

These two, smitten, I say

It's just weird how part of The Faerie Queen, of all things, parallels Dorian/Allana so well

Music is pretty great that way

I can't believe there's a specific word for this, I can't believe Mira included it in the prompt, and I can't believe you actually worked it in

I'm also reminded of the classic M*A*S*H quote: "A Winchester acknowledges only one 5:30 a day, and this is not it." Daybreak, bah

This is ridiculously Dorian Although I imagine rain in England is generally cold, which makes me side with Allana

Forget all the other 'ships, I'm only here for the Veeran-Briar friendship

That is indeed the hardest part...

You and Mira, I swear

I realize that especially on country estates, people were probably pretty matter of fact about this sort of thing, but it still feels like a dangerously improper subject for an unmarried young lady to be having with a young man, especially when they're of different social ranks like this

So basically, it's 100% in character for these two

Meewalh

Fanfic time! There's got to be Faerie Queen fanfic, right? brb, checking AO3

Dorian makes an entirely reasonable point!

Oh, come the heck on, you found a Wordsworth poem to trigger Dorian's vivisection PTSD in addition to the Faerie Queen parallels, what even is this

Veeran's completely right

This is so Han and Leia, I just can't even

And of course Winter would only select young gentlemen who were pleasant to look upon

So romantic

And foolish

I'm so torn here, Dorian makes another excellent point, and yet those parties sound like pure torture to me even before you get to the part where everyone's speculating about your potential marriage prospects

Luke and Mara! GIMME

That's right, Dorian, you be wary about this

All I can think of is The Little Mermaid, where Ariel's humming at her reflection and one of her sisters remarks, "She's got it bad"

Smart girl

How very dare you, Vi, how very dare you

This is a beautifully written passage, and Allana doesn't just have it bad, she's a completely lost cause

Hahaha, no, this is not done in Regency times, what are you even doing Dorian

Now, I realize she's not in the most logical of moods, but this is entirely unfair of Allana. She knows perfectly well that Dorian's right.

This is just chilling, very effective

I can see and hear and feel it

I mean, I'm not even a little bit shocked, but it's the best smiley we've got for this. Also, once again you write horrifying things so poetically

That last line...

And there's the tragedy of Veeran in almost every reality

lolol, you could almost pity him

She certainly is

lolololololol

As though there was ever going to be any other result

 

@earlybird-obi-wan

She's a worthy opponent in any reality!




@Mira_Jade

Well that reaction certainly made my day! (And take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere... except to post an acrostic sonnet... )




@Gabri_Jade

You and me both, babe.

My precious, thoughtful, self-deluding cinnamon roll.

Well, personally I'm glad your attention caught on the Han mention, because that's precisely why I put it in there.

If she only knew how important that book was to him during that whole time. (It just occurred to me that he would have had it on him when he and Veeran escaped the doctor, and now I'm picturing Veeran being all "for the love of God, just drop the stupid book before you fall and break your neck" and Dorian being like "please, you really think I'm going to let this kill me?" )

They aaaaaarrrrre.

I was honestly a bit dumbfounded the more and more I read of that particular section, I couldn't believe all the parallels. Mira was the one who recommended the poem, but I found the parts with Timias and Belphoebe on my own as I was searching for a good variety of quotes to possibly use. I guess it was meant to be.

Yeeup.

It really is, and I definitely enjoyed listening to a lot of emotional instrumental pieces, as well as classical piano, while writing this whole short story.

I'm telling you, I had the first garden scene and the piano scene in mind before writing this, and once I knew I wanted to begin and end with those, everything else - including the prompts - just started to slot in perfectly, and I don't even really know how I did it, my gosh that was a whirlwind.

Lolololllll (I don't know if I ever saw that particular episode, but I can still hear this )

Right??

Awwww I feel like I've reached some kind of important character milestone here, to make you feel that way about Veeran.

You love it

(Yes, it's probably what you think. )

Lol, these were basically my exact thoughts as I wrote this scene. Improper enough that it would be frowned upon, but commonplace enough that they can convince themselves that it's okay.

Dangerously improper does seem to be their default in any reality, doesn't it?

!!

Lol, when I looked I think I only found like three stories, and I can't remember what they were about, so probably not the conclusion of Timias and Belphoebe's story, alas. (And Mira pointed out that The Faerie Queene was itself fanfic of an earlier medieval piece, so that's cool. )

My snarky little bookworm.

Technically, Mira found it and sent it to me, and I was like "omigosh how? HOW?" and I knew I needed to find a way to include it. How did I go all this time without realizing how absolutely perfect my Enter!verse faves worked in a Regency AU, of all things??

He is, he really is. No-win scenarios for everyone...

This just made me so happy to hear. It's been so long since I've actually written Han and Leia, you know, alive, that I was a bit worried that I might not be able to do it anymore.

Of course!

Awww (And shhhh, let her have her romantic little daydream before it all comes crashing down. )

Yeah, as much as Dorian makes a valid point - especially from the point of view of one who has gone without for much of his life - I still have to side with Allana here. Being on display like that does not sound very enjoyable.

All in good time, Gabri.

He's not so hopeless that he doesn't see how inherently fraught this situation is. Although I guess he doesn't put up too much of a fight.

If Allana had sisters, there's no way everyone in the family wouldn't have known what was going on with her and Dorian.

lol

Seriously, though, tell me that isn't exactly what would have happened. I go where the story takes me, babe. *pats you on the head*

I'm glad you liked it! And she is, she's completely gone at this point, poor girl.

Come on now, Gabri, you know how reckless he gets when he's in an emotionally heightened state.

Very true, on all counts. Obviously Allana is hurt deeply by him backing off and she's not thinking clearly and is giving in to her impulsive side here. And even though it should be obvious that Dorian is just as deeply hurt by this, his reserve makes it harder for her to see in that moment. But he's not wrong; what they're doing would ruin her reputation, forever. It's just a sad mess all around.

I'm so mean to all of them.

I feel like maybe I shouldn't be pleased, but I am.

Definitely pleased to hear this! I always feel very accomplished whenever I have this effect.

*curtsies* Why, thank you.

Omigosh, you're right.

(I'm not okay.)

(Okay, that's a lie, I'm fine. But I definitely get way too emotional over this walking disaster in general. )

lol, "almost" being the keyword there.

As much as I love seeing Leia as Anakin's daughter, she definitely has a lot of Padmé in her, too.

(Not gonna lie, I was partially picturing the moment when Vader and Leia faced off for the first time in ANH when I wrote this scene. )

Lolol right?


Well, I actually managed to complete my Week 9 entry, so that'll be up shortly!

 

Notes: Moving right along to Week 9! My prompt from Mira was: write an Acrostic. This doesn't have to be in the form of poetry, unless you'd like to join us in our misery - your 'letters' can be the first in a sentence or a paragraph of prose, if you'd like. Be creative and have fun! There's no word limit.

Clearly I’m joining you all in your poetry-writing misery, because I decided to write my acrostic piece in the form of a sonnet. And because I was feeling extra, I came up with my own rhyme scheme. (Apparently I’m too cool for Shakespeare or Spenser or Petrarca or any of those other dudes. Or too lazy, whatever. )

Also, don't forget to look for the acrostic message in the poem!

---

“From Lonely Moon, to Lovely Sun”



I cannot but reflect your light, O Sun,
Redeemed within your radiant embrace.
Esteem me not, for I am but a shade,
Made weak when e’er I look upon your face.

Alas, I am unworthy of your grace;
In darkness I am doomed to fall and fade.
No star so luminous could ever be
Yet bound to one so wretched and dismayed.

Oh perish not that I should you degrade,
Undying though my love will always be.
Release me not, though I could ne’er deserve
Such favor as you freely offered me.

Devotion, mine, ‘til day and night have done,
Says lonely Moon to lovely, perfect Sun.



~~

 

a stunning poem

 

"I remain yours. D.S."

The question is, will she get the message?

 

Okay, I do not feel like my poetry reviewing skills are up to par, but here we go:

Look at that shift from the literal to the symbolic Also, "radiant" is just a great poetry word, there's no denying that

Of course Dorian goes right to the self-castigation even here. This boy, I swear

See, perfect And I love the parallel of having "lonely" and "lovely" in the same line like that.

Basically, Mira's most excellent gif choice sums up my reaction as well. An acrostic sonnet, what even is this And in less than a day, while the rest of us were still coming to terms with the mere prospect of writing a poem, you jerk (she said affectionately ). I think you win poetry week, babe

 

Wonderful! Wonderful!

 

lolololol

[Bender]Oh, wait, you're serious. Let me laugh even harder[/Bender]

 

Notes: I hope you guys will forgive me for temporarily skipping replies for now, because I have another bonus entry/pit stop to share with you! Last week, @Mira_Jade gave me a choice between writing an acrostic and writing one-sentence stories using 50 word prompts. The acrostic sonnet was my official entry for Week 9, but I finally finished my fifty sentences, so here they are! (And I'll be back with your regularly scheduled reader replies - and oh boy, are you guys amazing, I laughed and grinned so much over your reviews - as soon as I can! )

So here are fifty sentences, starring a wide assortment of Skywalkers, Solos, and other beloved characters...

(Oh yeah, the title comes from William Wordsworth’s “The Tables Turned”)

---

The Beauteous Forms of Things



Tide

Padmé held on tight to Leia’s arm as they approached the shell-covered shore; and as she watched little Allana dip her toes in the surf, she turned to her daughter and murmured, “Remember, sweetheart: nothing truly ends, for whatever the tide takes from these shores, will one day be brought to another.”



Lambent

Dorian leaned as close to the candle as he dared, desperate for what little light remained, and read under his breath: “It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore…”



Parallel

Anakin observed as the young merchant captain hopped down from his curricle and took in the whole of the estate with a confident, lopsided smile; and he staunchly ignored the look of wry amusement on Owen’s face as his stepbrother leaned closer to say that he used to know a young man just like that.



Murk

Dawn broke slowly over the battlefield, faint rays of light hidden behind a veil of fog as the enemy assembled in the distance, and Colonel Jacen Solo laid a hand across the too-familiar hilt of his saber, and breathed.



Scuffle

Dorian reached out a hand to pull Veeran up off the ground, eyeing the dirt on his clothes and his raw knuckles and his torn lip; and he said dryly, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”



Quiver

“Personally,” Mara said with wry delight as the earl’s son – his very handsome and ridiculously amiable son – let loose another arrow, “I find I’m rather partial to swords and throwing knives; wouldn’t you agree?”



Simple

Beru stared in awe at the grand foyer of Varykino, where she and Owen had been invited to visit – and to stay, if they so chose – but before she could worry that she and her husband were not fine enough people to be received as guests here, Padmé reached out and clasped both her hands, and welcomed her home.



Buried

“See to it that these are properly disposed of.”



Impulse

Sometimes – only sometimes – when Miss Veila visited Colonel and Mrs. Fel at their country estate and saw their two small boys running about, so unrestrained and full of life, she thought of the young man she had once loved, and wondered if she should have said yes.



Glance

He shouldn’t have looked up at her, but she was so close, leaning half over his shoulder, and when he tilted his head back – just for a moment, don’t stare, don’t stare – he thought he might lose himself forever in her storm-gray eyes.



Whistle

“Look here, Ben,” Anakin Solo instructed his little cousin, pointing to his own mouth, “you have to stick your tongue behind your teeth and make an O, like this…”



Design

“Trust me, Your Ladyshipness, this phaeton is faster and safer than any carriage you’ve ridden in, guaranteed.”



Pique

“I am told the waltz is far too scandalous and indecent a dance for any respectable young lady to engage in, and besides—” Colonel Fel paused to just barely quirk one corner of his mouth, “—I can’t imagine that you would know the steps, Miss Solo.”



Epitaph

In memory of Captain Anakin Solo, beloved younger son of Sir Han Solo and The Lady Leia Solo; the noblest and bravest of men, died the 18th day of June, 18xx in service to King and Country; aged 29 years.



Haste

The heat that day was unusually fierce, and gathering clouds threatened rain, but Jaina didn’t care; she ran and ran and ran, past the horse pastures and the Lawquanes’ farm, all the way to the eastern border wall, where she finally collapsed against the old stones, and bitterly wept.



Splendor

They were married on a clear autumn day, when all the leaves had turned to golden-orange and vivid red, and the world seemed bathed in a gentle amber glow that made the sky all the more blue by comparison; and as they departed the church, Luke looked into his wife’s dazzling green eyes – his wife, finally – and knew himself to be the most fortunate and blessed of men.



Enthrall

Jacen kneeled beside the bed and gazed into his beloved’s gray eyes for a long moment before accepting the precious sleeping bundle into his arms; and though he knew she would ever be a princess by virtue of her birth, the only thing that truly mattered to him was that the tiny baby he held was his daughter, and that he would do anything to protect her.



Noble

“I hope you know, my son,” Anakin said as he reached out one weak and weathered hand to grasp Luke’s very sturdy one, “that it is I who was most blessed in this world, for having been your father.”



Resist

She thrust the book into Dorian’s hands, a playful smirk twisting at her lips, never knowing how close he’d come to kissing her.



Glass

Allana pressed her face to the window, fogging the frosty pane with each excited breath as she watched her cousin step out of the carriage – and when she called out his name at the top of her seven-year-old lungs, Ben looked straight up at her through the window, and smiled.



Epistle

Mr. Blue broke the seal on the letter and began to read, laughing to himself as he wondered what delightful instructional treatise his dear old friend Mr. Goldenrod had thought to grace him with this time…



Useless

“I should be in there with her,” Han snapped as he stopped his agitated pacing and turned to glare at his father-in-law.



Identical

“You look just like your father,” Mara said with a small smile as Ben skeptically eyed their newest family portrait, “minus, of course, the hair.”



Placement

“But I still don’t know why I was forced to sit at the piano—” Luke said from behind his wife and son, who were still studying the somewhat pretentious portrait, “—when I don’t even play that well.”



Sleepless

Padmé held her infant son to her breast and rubbed his back soothingly, whispering through exhausted and empathetic tears that everything would be all right.



Minimal

With a flick of his wrist and a smile that was both infinitely patient and slightly mischievous, Sir Obi-Wan disarmed his much younger opponent, sending Jacen’s saber clattering to the floor.



Smudge

“I think she already knows you can’t afford lily-white shirts, Dorian.”



Thimble

Leia withheld a curse that would have turned her father’s head and glared down at the droplets of blood staining the delicate white muslin, already knowing what her mother would say.



Median

“Oh, no,” Luke said as he looked between his sister and his brother-in-law, “I know far better by now than to take either of your sides on a matter such as this.”



Lace

“You may think me a trifle old-fashioned in my tastes,” the second Earl of Vader said impishly as he adjusted the frilled neck cloth at his throat, “but I have it on good authority that I still look rather dashing this way.”



Humdrum

The young Captain Solo grinned at his sister’s back, then attempted to compose his expression into something more dignified – or at the very least, less smug – when she spun around to say, “Jacen, if you think I’m going to miss my chance to get the better of that arrogant Colonel Fel, then you’re more of an old man than I thought!”



Converge

Anakin stole a glance at Padmé, who was happily taking in the sight of their family – their whole family – gathered together in one place for the first time in many years, and he thought, not for the first time or the last, how fortunate he was that this remarkable woman had chosen him.



Burnish

“You keep up the hard work, Starskip, and you’ll be a groom in no time,” Ezra said as he looked from the tall stable hand to the row of immaculately clean and beautifully polished saddles behind him.



Augment

“How am I supposed to look after you both,” Jaina asked as she faced her brothers in their matching scarlet uniforms, “when you go where I am not permitted to follow?”



Persist

The clothes were stiff and uncomfortable, though not, Dorian suspected, as intolerable as they would have been had they been perfectly tailored to fit his frame; rather than be annoyed, he was grateful to have procured them, because they put him one step closer to where he needed to be.



Frugal

Owen Lars observed in amused silence as his stepbrother firmly denied Luke’s impassioned request that they purchase one of the shiny and expensive new curricles, remembering how a young Anakin Skywalker had often looked upon such lightweight carriages and the impressive horses that pulled them with naked longing; and he placed a hand upon Anakin’s shoulder, quietly reminding him of those days, and his stepbrother eyed him warily and sighed to say that he was becoming nearly as bad as Beru – a statement that Owen was only too happy to agree with.



Hush

Leia watched with a familiar ache as Jacen bent over his daughter’s bed, sweeping long strands of copper hair from Allana’s face and placing one soft, lingering kiss upon her brow.



Examine

“Oh no, madam, I mean to take them both; I wouldn’t dream of separating a pair of twins.”



Dainty

Veeran raised one eyebrow at Thistle as the typically boisterous horse trotted primly across the stable yard, and he folded his arms over his chest and said, “You don’t fool me for a second, you ridiculous creature.”



Segue

“…and we must see to it that all of the baskets are prepared in advance of the holiday because I don’t want a single person to fall through the cracks— oh yes, you’re right, Jacen, it is time for us to read together; come with Mama to the library…”



Invite

It was with the greatest dignity and professional pleasure that Mr. Goldenrod opened the drawing room door to announce the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Alderaan, only to be interrupted by the delighted squeal of young Lady Leia, who cried out, “Uncle Bail and Aunt Breha and Winter are here!”



Astral

Star-crossed, her father had told her once as they sat together beneath a brilliant night sky, means you can never be with the one you love, no matter how badly you might long to.



Plume

Smoke bloomed and billowed in a rising column as the debris from the explosion rained down around him, and for the briefest instant, there was a part of Jacen that thought to rend the earth from its moorings and bring every star kneeling to surrender if it could somehow bring his brother back to him.



Clarify

“I just want to make sure,” the dressmaker said deliberately as she held out the pale lilac material for Allana to see, “that this is the color you want?”



Imbue

Padmé’s eyes swept over the entryway, with its high arched ceilings and exquisite marble floors and so much light, just waiting for someone to fill it, and she reached behind her to grasp her new husband by the hand, saying with a full and certain heart: “This is it, Ani – this is our home.”



Suspicion

Dorian caught the older woman scrutinizing him – the countess, judging by the way the others deferred to her – her green eyes sharp and amused as she almost imperceptibly arched one challenging eyebrow.



Torrid

Allana gazed up into a pair of familiar blue eyes, still trying to comprehend how he could be here, and almost didn’t hear him when he asked, “Do you waltz, Miss Solo?”



Gather

Luke Skywalker, Earl of Vader, looked around the table at all those assembled and took a deep breath to say: “Many of you have traveled far, so let us waste no time in commencing this latest council of the Knights of the Order of Jedi.”



Seldom

Mr. Binks had seen many people come and go from the grand house over the years, and though he mostly found himself on the periphery of their lives, he had always felt a deep and genuine affection for the family and those who served them, and had always felt that affection returned; even these many years later, with so many of his old friends long gone, he was grateful that Master Ani and Miss Padmé had asked him to stay.



Choice

She didn’t know if they were the sort of destined true love written about in poems and songs, let alone if they were even considered right for one another; but in the end, none of that mattered, because she was his choice, and he was hers.



~~

 

Simply stunning. How you gave each character a life in that setting in England

 

Catching up on some replies, and then I have my Week 10 ready to post!


@Mira_Jade

Let's just say that I 100% heard the Ian Malcolm quote as soon as I saw this gif, and I could not stop giggling.

Aw! (And I need to get over there and leave some gold stars of my own, because your haiku were definitely worthy of some wonder. )




@earlybird-obi-wan

Thank you so much!




@Cowgirl Jedi 1701

That is a very good question… Did he ever actually give her the sonnet, or did he just write it and tuck it away never to be seen?




@Gabri_Jade

Shhhhh

I wrote a list of sun-related words to try to include, and "radiant" was one that made the cut.

He is consistent. It's understandable though, with everything he's been through.

Aww (I was particularly pleased with the lonely/lovely parallel in that line. )

I'm still not sure how it all came together in the end, because it was only half-written for most of the day, but then it all started to click, and I'm actually really happy with it!




@Nehru_Amidala

Thank you very much!




@Mira_Jade

EEEEEEEE, I DID SUCH A HAPPY DANCE TO SEE THIS POSTED!!! (I've been sooo excited to see what you thought of Part 3! )

Why, thank you! (I still can't believe I wrote all those words. )

Right??? Also I cracked up at the thought of the angst being on the fluffy side. I write so much angst that we now have to specify categories of angst. But seriously, you're right, when you compare this to what I normally put these characters through, things aren't too bad.

I love that you picked out that comparison to the main 'verse! And I wasn't even necessarily trying to force those parallels; they've happened pretty naturally as the story has progressed. I'm actually a little surprised by how closely this story has paralleled the others at times.

Poor Allana. She's such a sweetheart who loves her family, but she just had to fall for someone so far below her social level that it would be completely and utterly unthinkable that they could ever be together. That can't be an easy subject to bring up, even with the people you love.

They're the best. (It's nice writing them alive. )

I do love me some good Solo family banter.

I figured that might be your response!

That was actually the very last prompt I worked in, believe it or not!

Maaaaybe

She iiiiiissss, Mira, I love her so much.

I mean really, at this point? It basically is.

Poor Allana! Winter, at least, would make sure any potential candidates were kind and well-mannered gentlemen, in addition to being easy on the eyes. (Of course, none of them are Dorian, so Allana was never going to be interested. )

I've so enjoyed writing non-Sith Dorian with his sass intact. Because you know that's not just a Festus thing. (But yeah, I'm with Allana, too. Parties are fun, but people can be exhausting. )

After everything, they're really dancing right on the edge of all those feelings, aren't they?

Nope, not jealous at all, why would you think that?

It's the best. (Even if they are kinda moving away from subtle here...)

I really need this version of Allana and Jacen’s relationship, Mira. (For obvious reasons. )

I had to work in that idea somewhere! He so would, though, wouldn't he? How is he so precious in this AU, Mira, how?

So tiny and precious!

I'm never going to be able to write about storms without thinking about these characters, am I?

Lolol, agreed, which is probably why I had Allana trail off.

This is the best response I could ask for.

We all know Allana is a terrible liar, I figured why not lean into it?

All the better when you realize how old they actually are here! (This being the equivalent of about 55 ABY )

Once I saw that candle picture, I knew I had to include the piano scene. I'm glad it all came together so well!

Aw, thanks! And really, this is why I couldn't make Dorian some rich lord guy in this AU, because the parallels between this and the main 'verse were just too good to pass up. (Okay, fine, I could have made him some rich lord guy, and I suppose that would have been it's own special AU challenge... but Regency era romances are filled to the brim with those sorts of men, and I wanted to do something different. )

And of course, Allana continues the grand tradition of self-deceptive reasoning.

I probably shouldn't laugh, since that moment in IDWD was a terrible betrayal, but I love that your mind went there.

Me toooooooo. (But she's also in way over her head here, poor girl. What was she thinking, sneaking him into the house at night?? Oh, Allana... *shakes head* )

Same as in the main 'verse, Allana's self-deception can only carry so far, and at some point before now she had to have realized the truth of her feelings, even if she still wasn't ready to admit them.

Like I told Gabri: I go where the story takes me! And you know he's not about to let her see those scars, because then he might have to talk about them, and how do you even begin trying to explain something like that?

I love everything about this reaction.

Kinda cathartic, isn't it? I'll see what I can do.

Who would have thought, huh? That's the power of a good AU.

I LOVE THAT THIS RESONATED WITH YOU! Once I had them at the piano together, this seemed the only natural direction for things to go.

Aw!

Not rambling at all, I know exactly what you mean! And I really love how you phrased that, that they're creating something new together to fill in the missing pieces. That's really what it comes down to in the end.

You don't know how much I fought with this metaphor and nearly abandoned it completely! It just sounded so overwrought every which way I wrote it, until finally I landed on this phrasing. But I'm glad I kept at it, because that frenetic, almost discordant energy was really what I wanted to convey. This boy has a lot of feelings, and they were all coming to a head here.

Mira, I wrote this particular part of this scene almost as soon as I'd finished writing the dialogue-only fic back during Week 2. That's how long I've known I was going to mirror that dialogue with their grown-up selves. I was originally going to use all of this for my long vig at the end, but the prompts for this one just lined up so perfectly.

And then, you know I'm always happy to hear you had to put your phone down.

The agony of restraint... yep, that's exactly what I was going for. And it's really great to hear that those passionate feelings came through just as intensely as they might have in a less inhibited version of this scene. That was my goal here.

Also, twiddle... Honestly, I wasn't sure if the word worked as well here, (I was originally going to use it in Part 2 when he's absently playing with the twig), but I remembered what you said about "accidental" touches to clothing being a form of flirting in this era, and I was like, "welp, then deliberately playing with clothing - in a way that could never be construed as accidental - would have to be on a whole other level, wouldn't it?"

Did I put too much thought into this?

!!!! (Music to my ears, Mira!)

That decision has worked out very well for my story purposes.

He's definitely not being subtle anymore!

(Is it bad to admit that I still sort of regret not letting it happen here? I suppose you could imagine another AU version of events where Goldenrod doesn't interrupt them... )

Yeah, I'm a little worried that you're going to end up disappointed on that score. How am I going to beat the romanticism of that almost-kiss by candlelight?

I guess I'm always saying I like a challenge...

Lol, even better is imagining how many times he's interrupted such moments without even realizing it. (I am glad I don't live with household staff, that said. )

It kinda hurt to write, not even kidding.

*whispers*I wrote that line into this scene first, then went back and worked it into Part 2 (with correct punctuation) knowing that I wanted it to come back at the end.*/whispers*

Such good pain.

Oh yay, I'm glad that worked! I had a very specific mental image of this scene that I wanted to capture. And then it's always fun to play with shadows and light with these two.

Maybe it's because we already know Veeran doesn't care to quote or read that book... except when his brother is in pain?

Also, I should probably point out that some of the lines that Veeran and Dorian quoted aren't exactly in sequence with one another in the poem, which means that Veeran wasn't just finishing a line - he knows that whole passage well enough to pick out an entirely different but still applicable quote. Was this the author being lazy and wanting to pick out the most relevant quotes for the best dramatic effect? Yes. But I also like to think it says a little something about Veeran, too.

I'm so glad you enjoyed this story so much! I didn't expect to write such a long response to those prompts, but once I got started I couldn't stop until the story was told. I guess I needed some semblance of happiness for these two characters, even if it didn't last. There were some definite IDWD vibes there at the end (and throughout), weren't there? Maybe we'll get some more of those, what with a certain London ball coming up and all.

Oh my gosh, how is it that Veeran is the sensible one that Elinor could relate to?? What even is this madness?

Even in limited fragments, I've enjoyed writing good Jacen. And I'm still figuring out the answers to those questions!

I am, too!

That's what I say!

I feel like this could be a whole story in itself!

You know, this idea sort of inspired that brief Mr. Binks mention in my 50 sentences...

Awww!

Take all the time you need! This was such a treat to read!




@Gabri_Jade

Shhhhh, Gabri!

@earlybird-obi-wan

Aw, thanks! I've had a lot of fun fleshing out this AU!

 

Notes: I can't believe we're already on the last secret prompt! For Week 10, I had to write a story between 100 and 400 words, and include these three words: talisman, reign, spectral.

I was honestly a bit stumped for a few days, but after working on some bonus entries, I was able to approach this one fresh and even tie it in to my Week 9 entry a little. And I ended up at 400 words exactly, so that's cool.

(The title is paraphrased from The Faerie Queene.)

---

The Substance Is Not Altered


Veeran walked into the room to find his twin sitting cross-legged on the floor, a jar of ink at his right knee and his precious book lying open in front of him. He held a quill in one hand and looked up at the interruption.

“What?” Dorian said nonchalantly.

Veeran frowned and closed the door behind him. “Don’t ‘what’ me. Are you— are you writing in your book?”

Dorian shrugged and looked down at his handiwork. “The last page was blank. I needed something to write on.”

“Why?”

Dorian didn’t look up, and Veeran heard his breath hitch. At first he thought his brother might not answer, but then he said in a strained voice: “I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“You have to,” Veeran gritted out. “You’ve let this girl reign over your life long enough. You don’t sleep, you hardly eat—” He reached down to snatch up the book, ignoring Dorian's angry protests. “—and now you’re defacing the thing you love most in this world, to do… what, exactly? Write a poem?”

There was a dark look in his twin’s eyes as he held out his right hand. “Give it back.”

Veeran almost tossed the book at him, but he hesitated at the last second. He’d never understood why the doctor had allowed Dorian to keep it, but he had; and as much as Veeran picked on Dorian for cherishing the thing, in the wake of their escape, he too had come to view it as a talisman of sorts, protecting them from evil.

He placed the book in Dorian’s hand, pushing back those memories and the doctor’s spectral presence lingering in his thoughts. He refused to give that bastard any more of him than he’d already taken.

“You said it was over,” Veeran said, quieter than before.

Dorian set the quill in the jar and shoved it aside, staring down at the book in his hands. “It is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still…” He sighed and laid the book on his bed, then stood slowly. “It’s just cloth and paper, Veeran. It’s not what I love most.”

Veeran’s gaze flitted briefly to the ink smudges on Dorian’s fingers. They were a nice complement to the dark circles under his eyes. “No,” he said. “I suppose not.”

Dorian picked up the inkwell. “I should return this.”

“Yeah.” Veeran stepped aside. “Don’t let me keep you.”


~~

 

showing the emotions the brothers experience with the book. They have gone through a lot

 

Why do you even ask questions you already know the answers to?

Pfft, I'm perfectly happy to own the jerk-calling. An acrostic sonnet, Mira. In a day.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan

They really have. Thanks for reading!




@Mira_Jade

Don't even worry, I have plenty of catching up to do myself! I love reading your thoughts whenever they come.

Lol, this was one of those things where, waaaay back a long time ago (like, 2007 probably, omg that was fifteen years ago wuuuut) I made a list of potential Sith Lord names, and Neige was one of them. Fast forward to writing HTBM, when I needed a name for the twins' main antagonist, and I glanced through my list of unused Sith Lord names and saw Neige and was like, sure why not? It doesn't mean anything in SW... but obviously it means something in our world, so when I decided Neige was going to show up in this ficlet, I decided to lean into the fact that I'd given his character a French word for a name.

Cool story, Vi.

Anyway, I enjoyed creepily juxtaposing the beauty of the snow with the violence of this scene.

Ha! I guess it has been a little while since I've delved into those dark and twisty aspects. What does it say about me that I've missed it?

Yay! I was particularly pleased with how the details for this scene came together.

Veeran has had a lot more time up close with the doctor in this AU, and it's had an impact...

Hee, I'm glad you thought so! Dorian to my mind is definitely the more surgical and precise of the two, whereas Veeran is more of a blunt instrument, and I like alluding to that in their mannerisms.

Naaaw.

Yeah, I think it's safe to say it's going to hurt. Maybe it's because the way that Veeran engages with people and his surroundings is so different than how Dorian does, but writing his perspective as a kid has at times felt more emotional draining than writing Dorian's transformation in TLotD. (Now I just need to finish the dang story! )

I think I'm going to need more Veeran and horse therapy, Mira.

Well, I do love to hear this!

Thanks! It was really interesting writing Anakin into this world, and I was trying to combine elements of the younger Anakin we knew with aspects of Vader from the OT, especially ANH, to create this older, more experienced light side version of him.

I do love Anakin being able to better appreciate his amazing daughter. Gotta love these happy AUs.

Your reaction to all of this is THE BEST.

I'd be lying if I said the scene where Vader and Leia meet up in ANH wasn't front and center in my mind while writing this ficlet. Yes, Vader had a temper, but he rarely gave in to anything more than momentary bursts of outward rage (in the movies at least; you know I disagree with the rage monster portrayal of Vader in some fanfic and even canon, at times). Anyway, we see Anakin's extremes of love me! and don't cross me! pretty clearly throughout the PT and beyond, and I like imagining an older Anakin who has learned to recognize and balance those extremes, in a way that somewhat reflects who he was as Vader.

I love exploring all those family connections.

The sass is strong with this family.

Just like when a quiet character loses his cool, never doubt the impact of having a more vocal or outgoing character suddenly go quiet.

!!

Right?!

I will take all the emojis you want to throw at me.

They're the best.

It's honestly hard at this point to imagine not including the Force with these characters, and it's been a lot of fun finding ways to work Force usage into the world of Regency England.

So many plot bunnies...

But I could definitely see myself writing that story at some point in the future...

I'm really so happy that you guys enjoyed this poem! Like I've said before, I've never written much poetry, and most of it was for school, and the only sonnet I'd previously written was for 9th grade English class, but I really enjoyed the challenge of writing to fit that format, and I'm pleased if anyone else liked the result!

And then wow, yeah, Dorian does not have the best opinion of himself, as usual. But of course I had to write this poem from his perspective, after all that talk about "Lord Space Byron" and all the longing poetry he would write if he wasn't busy with all the murder. And even here, in a world where he isn't murdery at all, he still sees himself as a shade.

He really needs to go easier on himself, poor boy. Especially here, where he hasn't been a disaster trash lord murder boy.

(Also, I have a note on AO3 for this that goes something like, "it occurs to me the Lord Space Byron would be unimpressed by actual Lord Byron" because let's face it, Dorian would not be impressed. )

Gotta love that push and pull.

I did think lonely/lovely was a good way of alluding to the ways they sometimes mirror one another, and I'm glad you liked the wording! And then that message... I really wanted something simple yet powerful to contrast the more lyrical nature of the sonnet. Because as much as he would believe the things he's writing in that poem, his goal in writing it is to express that simple message, not something overly flowery or trite. And "I remain yours" just felt so Dorian.

You guys honor me, you really do. (Yes, even if you're affectionately calling me a jerk )

Aww! And for this I'm going to put my replies in bold right underneath your comments!

Writing this Regency AU has really helped paint a clearer picture for me of who an adult, non-Sith Dorian might be. Not saying I didn't necessarily know that already, but there's a difference between knowing it and seeing it on the page, I guess. Like, obviously he still has plenty of trauma in this world, and his life has had a lot of darkness, but he wasn't raised with the Sith influence, so that makes him an interesting mix of happy AU Jedi Dorian and the Festus we better know. Man, I love writing AUs.

Lol, I'm going to be really boring and say that normal Earth lifespans will mostly apply in this AU, although I think I'll probably go more with modern lifespans versus 19th-century ones because I don't want my poor orphan laborers to die in their twenties.

Why thank you! I've been very happy with how it's turned out.

I'm glad you did, because I loved it!

Literally every time I would send Gabri a section of Between the Moon and the Stars, she would answer back with some form of "omg Allana what are you doing?" and then say that this was all completely 100% in character for both of them.

Aw! I am too!

What if I told you I'm not quite done revisiting that piece of dialogue, hmm? *eyes the 5+1*

I mean, you're not wrong! And wow, I'm still thinking about this one... and imagining Veeran hanging out with the Dashwoods, omigosh. Fanfic is wild.

I still can't believe you replied to all of the sentences, you madwoman! But I loved reading every word of your feedback! Thank you so much for sharing all your thoughts and always supporting me in this AU that I never ever expected to write!




@Gabri_Jade

Loooove yooooouuu.




All right! The Kessel Run is coming to a close, and that means I have a 5+1 vignette to share with you...

 

Notes: At long last, it’s Week 12 of the Kessel Run challenge, and I finished my 5+1 vignette! This one-shot had to be at least 2,000 words long, and it had to feature a series of scenes connected by an overarching theme. The first five scenes have the same "thing" in common, while the last scene is an inversion of the previous scenes. I went with a really simple title this week, so you’ll know exactly what my “5+1” is.

Before we get started, I want to add that I’m planning to continue this ridiculously indulgent Regency AU even after the Kessel Run officially ends, because apparently I still have a lot of stories left to tell in this world (including one about a fancy London ball that a certain gardener has plans to crash ). So while this vignette marks my last entry for the challenge, it is by no means the end.

---

Five Partings and One Reunion


I.


Allana Solo had only one clear memory of her uncle Anakin. It was a warm spring day, and he had just returned with her father from the war. She remembered her papa holding on to her so tight, but as soon as he let go, her uncle had swooped in to pick her up and twirl her through the air, and she’d thought she might become a bird. She knew neither of them could stay long, but as Uncle Anakin carried her back to the house, laughing and joking with her and Papa, those thoughts seemed too far away to matter.

He died that summer in a great battle and was proclaimed a hero, and a memorial was erected in the south garden, right next to the one for her great-grandfather, for whom her uncle had been named. His death lingered in the air around the people she loved, a wound that would never fully heal.

Her great-grandmother left them a few years later, not long after Allana’s first trip to the sea. She was eight years old at the time – old enough to remember standing next to the bed as her great-grandmother pressed a smooth, iridescent seashell into her hands, and old enough to remember the pall that fell over the house and the family in the days that followed. It was a different sadness than the one she’d felt for her uncle’s passing, less a sundering than it was a gentle goodbye, yet still without the promise of return.

That was the hardest thing, saying goodbye, or more often than not, being unable to say goodbye at all.


~~

II.


The carriage pulled up outside the house, and Allana spun around to face her cousin, indignation rising to the surface. “You can’t have to leave already!”

Ben nodded gravely. “Alas, I must. The world of academia awaits.”

She stuck out her bottom lip in what she knew to be a most unladylike pout. “Why do you have to go away for school? Why can’t you learn at home, like me?”

He knelt in front of her. “I don’t know. I suppose because there are some things one can only properly learn away from one’s home and family, and I must learn all I can if I’m to be worthy of my future rank.”

“That’s just silly,” she said, still pouting. “You shouldn’t have to leave a place you love if you don’t want to.”

“You’re right,” he said in all seriousness as he took her hand in his. “It is rather silly. But I did make a commitment, and I must honor it.” He reached out with his other hand to tap her gently under her chin. “I’ll be back to visit before long. You won’t even miss me.”

A thought occurred to her then. “Can I come see you there? I have never been to a university.”

He smiled warmly. “Certainly you can. That is, if my aunt and uncle will consent to make the trip.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will!” Allana threw her arms around Ben’s neck and squeezed. “We’ll come as soon as we can!”

Ben hugged her in return, and though she knew she would still miss him terribly, the thought of him leaving was not quite so unbearable as it had seemed moments ago.


~~

III.


“I can’t take this,” Dorian said, staring down at the book. “It’s yours.”

Allana smiled at him. “And now it’s yours. It’s a gift.” She watched him turn the book over in his hands and frowned. “Haven’t you ever been given a gift before?”

“Clothes or shoes, I suppose.” He was still studying the book, running his fingers over the purple cloth cover. “Nothing like this.”

She felt a pang in her stomach at his words, but that only fueled her resolve. “Then of course you must take it. It will make me happy to know that you’re reading it. And if you don’t take it, I shall be very offended.”

He nodded and set the book on his knees. “All right. If it makes you happy.” She thought she saw him trying to hide a smile. “I wouldn’t dare offend a lady.”

Before she could answer, a sudden clamor and a raucous peal of laughter drew her eyes to the window. Outside, the other children were playing a game where they joined hands high in the air to create a long tunnel and then tried to catch pairs of children running underneath. Dorian’s brother and one of the older girls had just barely made it through the tunnel without being caught, and they were doubled over laughing despite being obviously out of breath. As Allana turned away from the window, she noticed Dorian watching the whole scene, and she felt a sad sort of longing and couldn’t be sure if they were his emotions or her own.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked suddenly, drawing his gaze away from the window.

“Yes,” he answered, brow furrowing a little as his expression turned questioning.

She looked down at her lap and began to twist her hands together, realizing how huge a thing she was about to reveal to him. “You promise you’ll never tell?”

He responded without hesitation. “Never.”

She kept her eyes lowered and her voice quiet, and she told him about the feelings she sometimes sensed in others, and how she felt those emotions as intimately as if they were her own, and how her grandmother had warned her never to tell a soul – well, she had failed miserably at that, she supposed.

“So…” Dorian said, after reassuring her once more that he would keep her secret. “…can you sense me?”

She looked up at him and concentrated on the emotions he stirred within her. She hadn’t really spent much time trying to sense other people. Often she found herself trying to shut all those feelings out instead. “A little,” she said. “It doesn’t always work right. Sometimes it’s foggy.”

“Is that how I feel?” he asked. “Foggy?”

“No. No, you’re… you feel…” A picture flashed through her mind, and she wondered whether she should tell him.

“What? Is it bad?”

“No, it’s just… your sense reminds me of the moon.” She felt her face warm at those words, and she looked away. “I know, it’s silly—”

“It’s not silly,” he said quickly, with a quiet sort of insistence. “Why the moon?”

She would have been too embarrassed to say more were it not for his genuine curiosity and the fact that, despite only having met him here a couple of times, she trusted him as much as she’d ever trusted anyone. “Well, it’s… it’s quiet at night, and the moon is so bright and far away, and…” She hesitated, thinking of that sad longing she’d sensed in him. “…and it always feels a little lonely.”

He didn’t answer, and she couldn’t decipher his expression. She might have thought him indifferent, if she didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry,” she said very quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head, not quite meeting her gaze. “Make me feel bad, that is. I’m used to… all this.” His eyes swept the room, from the floorboards to the rafters, and he exhaled slowly. “It’s just the way it is.”

She knew this wasn’t a bad place – and in fact, in many ways it was very good, so much better than the other orphanages in London – but her heart still ached to imagine him here, day after day. “I wish you didn’t have to live here.”

He shrugged. “It’s better than being on our own, believe me.”

A new thought occurred to her, a bright kernel of an idea that she couldn’t help but nurture. “What if you could live in the country? Would you like that?”

He eyed her skeptically, but with clear interest. “I don’t know, I’ve never been there. What’s it like?”

How did one describe a home such as hers, so different from this foul, soot-stained city where everything and everyone was so close and noisy and relentless? She pictured her grandparents’ estate, forcing the image of London from her mind.

“Not as crowded as this,” she replied, “and it’s green and the air smells better. And my grandmother has a garden with all sorts of flowers, and there are butterflies, and…” Oh, but there was so much to tell him about, how could she possibly do it justice?

He offered her a small smile. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It is. You would love it there, I know it.”

He nodded, and his expression grew serious once again. “I should tell you something, before you go.”

“What is it?”

“That sense you have? I think I might have it, too. Not the same as yours, but…” He looked around the room, as if to reassure himself that it was empty and no one would hear. “…my brother and me, ever since we were little. We can hear each other’s thoughts. I always thought it was because we’re twins, but maybe it’s more than that.”

Allana breathed in quickly, raising both hands to her mouth for a moment as she turned his admission over in her mind. “I thought it was just me,” she whispered, lowering her hands to her lap.

He leaned toward her, his sense growing a touch anxious. “But it’s not, and maybe if your grandmother knew—”

“Oh, no, I can’t tell her.” Every warning came back to her with sudden and ferocious clarity. “She’d be so upset if she knew I’d told you, please say you won’t—”

“I won’t. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Dorian shook his head and leaned back. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

“Don’t say that!”

He frowned at her, uncomprehending. “Why not? It’s true.”

She hadn’t meant to object so forcefully, but his words had struck an unsettling chord. “If you talk about your grave, it’s like saying you’re going to die.”

He started to stretch one hand toward her, then quickly lowered it again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like—”

“It’s all right.” She took a breath and fixed him with a stern look. “But you have to promise not to die either.”

His answering grin was wry. “That’s a lot to promise…”

“It isn’t that much!” she said with a laugh, and even though she knew he was teasing her, she was happy to see him laugh, too. They sat in silence for a moment once the laughter had faded, and he reached up to run a hand through his hair.

“Will you do something for me?” His voice was soft, almost bashful, which was an unexpected thing to her mind, with him being older than her.

“What?” she answered.

He met her eyes, and she found herself unable to look away. “Will you think about me sometimes? When you’re reading one of your books, or— or when you’re in your garden, with your butterflies?”

Oh, what a sweet, perfect boy he was. “I will,” she said enthusiastically. “Of course I will, and I’ll imagine you’re there with me.”

Adult voices filled the air and grew louder, and Allana turned to see her grandmother leaving a room at the other end of the hallway, joined by the orphanage’s headmistress. The Lady Leia Solo’s business here was very likely at an end, for the time being. Allana turned back to see Dorian watching the older women as well.

“Do you have to go?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said, reaching up to run her fingers over one of her braids. “Grandma says we have more people to help today.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Her grandmother caught her eye and smiled, nodding her head toward the front door. Allana nodded back, then gathered her belongings and stood from her seat. Dorian stood with her, the book clasped in both his hands. He took a small step toward her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said gently, a faint smile curving his mouth. “About the moon. It isn’t lonely. It has all those stars to keep it company. Even if they are far away.”

She tried to think of something equally lovely to say to him in return, but her words all but abandoned her, and she felt quite certain she had begun to blush. “I… I hope you like the book,” she said at last. “It’s my very favorite.”

He tilted his head to one side and extended the book just slightly toward her. “I’ll read it every day.”

She didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want to leave him here. For a fleeting instant she imagined stretching up on her toes to kiss his cheek, but her courage left her, and she heard her grandmother calling her name from the front door. Allana clutched her hat and her satchel to her chest with one hand and lifted the skirt of her dress with the other, dropping into a curtsy. “Goodbye, Dorian,” she said a bit breathlessly before spinning around to hurry after her grandmother.

“Goodbye…” she heard him call after her, and she looked back at him and waved one more time before following her grandmother out the door. As they stepped down toward the street, Allana thought she heard her own name as a whisper floating on the breeze, but when she turned around to look for the source, no one was there.

“Did you have a nice time talking with your friend?” her grandmother asked once they had climbed up into their carriage.

Allana leaned against the side of the carriage and watched through the upper corners of the window as London’s cramped streets swept by. “Yes, Grandma,” she said. “A very nice time.”


~~

IV.


They reached the stone wall that bordered her grandparents’ lands, their way lit by one small lantern and an ocean of stars. Papa lifted her up and placed her on top of the wall, then climbed up to sit beside her. She leaned against him and smiled as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You told me this is your favorite spot,” he said curiously. “Why is that?”

“I suppose,” she mused, “because it’s quiet, and I can listen to the brook, and it’s away from everything else.” She tilted her head back to gaze up at the night sky. “The stars are beautiful here, aren’t they?”

She felt her father shift and knew that he, too, was leaning back to look up at the stars. “They are indeed. Very beautiful, and quite bright tonight, with the waning moon.”

Her eyes drifted toward the moon, little more than a sliver of white overshadowed by the brilliance of the constellations. Lonely, she thought, no matter what her friend had once claimed otherwise.

“What does it mean,” she asked suddenly, turning her face toward her father’s, “to be star-crossed?”

She could sense he was a little surprised by the question, and he met her gaze with a quirked eyebrow and a strange sort of smile. “You’ve been reading Romeo and Juliet.”

“I finished it today.” She found her eyes wandering now to the northernmost stars. “Does star-crossed mean that Romeo and Juliet had to die?”

Papa laughed under his breath – though it was a laugh that held no real mirth – and removed his arm from her shoulders in order to lightly touch her cheek. “No, sweetheart. That’s not what it means, precisely.”

“Then what does it mean?”

Her father went very still for a moment, and the hand touching her cheek wavered slightly before it was withdrawn. “Star-crossed,” he said in his softest voice, “means you can never be with the one you love, no matter how badly you might long to. It means the stars are working to keep you apart. It means—” He paused and seemed to wrestle with something inside him, his courage or his sorrow or perhaps something else entirely. “—that fate is against you, and fighting it will only lead to ruin.”

She fixed her eyes on the north star, the one Papa had told her to look for whenever he was away, and she tried to loosen the knot that had formed in her chest. “Is that why you and Mama could never be together?”

He sighed, and she saw him raise a hand to cover his mouth. “It sometimes felt that way,” he answered wearily.

She hesitated to ask her next question. “Is that… why you can’t stay here with me?”

He lowered his hand from his mouth and reached over, taking one of her hands in his. “Allana, there’s nowhere in the world I would rather be than here with you. But…”

She looked down at their clasped hands, little more than shadows. “But.”

Papa sighed again. “But the world is broken, and the wars continue on, and if I’m not there, I fear…” He paused, and she felt his fingers gently squeeze hers. “I can’t look the other way and hope that someone better than me will come along to make things right.”

She continued to fix her gaze on their hands. “Will fighting make things right?”

He took a deep breath and released it as he spoke. “Probably not. It rarely does. But to stand aside and do nothing at all, or to hide here behind grand words and lofty ideals when there are so many people…” He trailed off and was silent, and she wondered if he felt he had said too much; finally, after a long moment, he continued. “Perhaps one day I can defend in another way, but for the time being, I must stand in the only way I know how.”

The stars twinkled above them, and Allana found the north star once more. “I don’t want you to go.”

He gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, and it was only when he wiped several tears from her cheeks that she realized she had begun to cry.

“My precious child,” he murmured as he held her close. “I will always return to you. Always.”


~~

V.


She couldn’t remember saying goodbye to her mother.

Perhaps she hadn’t been old enough. Perhaps she hadn’t even understood that it was goodbye. Her memories of her mother were like shadows, flickering at the edges of her awareness only in dreams and seldom intruding on her thoughts in her waking life. She knew, of course, how sad that was, that she couldn’t even recall a face, or a voice, or what it felt like to rest within the warmth and safety of her mother’s embrace. There were times when she wished very much to have those memories.

Her father spoke of her sometimes, though always with an aching sadness that Allana could feel deep in her heart, as if it were her own, and she had known from a very young age that her mother must be dead, for surely nothing but death would have separated her papa from his beloved wife. He tried not to be sad, for her sake, and he would always smile after and tilt her chin up and say that he could never be truly bereft, because she was her mother’s daughter, and that was more than enough.


~~

I.


Dorian Starskip leaned back as far as he could, narrowly avoiding the blow aimed at his head. The tall youth’s fist swept through the air in front of him, and Dorian ducked under it and rammed his shoulder into his opponent’s chest, throwing him back several steps. He had been in more than a few fistfights in his life, and while he wouldn’t have said he preferred to settle disagreements in this way, he’d found that violence was the only language some of these louts seemed to understand, and he’d become fairly fluent in that language.

The shorter of the two young men he was currently engaged with tried to wrap an arm around Dorian’s neck, but he twisted in his grasp and brought the heel of his hand up hard under the youth’s chin before giving him a message he couldn’t fail to miss. Two more swift blows to the face, and his opponent stumbled backward, one hand nursing a bloody nose. The shorter man cursed and shook his head, then took off down the alley, yelling back at his tall friend that he was on his own. Dorian took advantage of the taller youth’s momentary confusion to turn and throw him up against the alley wall.

“Stop!” a voice shouted from behind him, and he turned to see who was foolish enough to interfere.

There weren’t many passersby who would have rushed in to break up their fight – in fact, an opportunistic few would have been just as likely to join in the fray – but the last person Dorian expected to see appear in the alley was a young lady of unquestionably gentle birth. She ran toward them – another thing Dorian never would have expected to see – her face flushed and bonnet thrown back from her hair, which was a bright copper red that he felt sure would have caught the sunlight, had the day not been so overcast.

“Stop this!” she called out once she’d come within five yards of them. “Stop it at once—” She drew up short, her eyes flitting from him to the youth struggling in his grip; then she looked around in panic. “The little boy – where is he?”

His opponent bucked against him, and Dorian grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the brick wall, returning his attention to the fight at hand. He sensed the girl recoil, but she didn’t run off.

“Stay back,” he warned without looking over at her. This wasn’t at all how he’d anticipated his morning going; he couldn’t be sorry that he’d stepped in to help the little boy – who had had the good sense to run away as soon as the first punches were thrown – but he was probably going to lose his job, and now he had to worry about some high-born miss getting involved—

“Miss Solo!”

The name – shouted in the precise, refined accent of a gentleman – hit him with all the force of an actual blow. Dorian snapped his head around to find the girl, and as his eyes met her very wide, very gray ones, he experienced a strange, sinking feeling in his gut and nearly forgot all about the angry youth he’d shoved up against the wall. Solo…?

“Miss Solo!” The gentleman who had called out to her drew nearer, moving quickly, though not exactly running. Despite his restraint, he appeared a bit winded, and under different circumstances, Dorian would have found no small measure of amusement at the sight.

Oh, who was he trying to fool? It was amusing, and he fought to suppress a smirk.

The red-haired girl turned her head at the sound of her name, but she didn’t move toward the man, waiting instead for him to join her in the alley. The gentleman – with his pristine white waistcoat and his perfectly-tailored blue jacket and his polished boots – glanced around as though he expected assailants to leap out from the bricks themselves. Then his gaze fell on Dorian and the lout he was holding, and his genteel brow furrowed in alarm and – not at all surprisingly – disdain.

“Miss Solo,” the gentleman repeated, “I really must insist we return to the curricle at once.” He held out a hand that hovered near her elbow, indicating she should follow him. “This is no place for a lady, no place at all.”

“There was a young boy,” she said quickly, turning to gesture in Dorian’s direction. “A very little boy, scarcely able to defend himself—”

Dorian felt the little boy’s attacker struggle in his grasp, and he drew back to slam him into the wall again. “Quit it!” he snapped, eyes still on the girl. Miss Solo… it couldn’t really be her, could it? It had been years since he’d seen her, ten years in fact, and he’d long since given up any real hope of ever meeting her again. He studied the young lady conversing animatedly with her companion, his heart beating faster as he saw more and more of the familiar in her expressions and the shape of her face, and without stopping to consider whether he had any right to, he dared to reach out to her as he had only ever done with his brother, and ask.

Allana?

She abandoned her impassioned speech mid-sentence and turned toward him so abruptly, it left little doubt she’d heard him. She studied him with those gray eyes, her brow knitted in concentration, or maybe surprise and confusion, or disbelief. Then her entire countenance changed, and he felt the same unguarded, sun-bright radiance he remembered from so long ago as she favored him with a tentative but hopeful smile.

Dorian?

Her mouth formed his name, and he heard it clearly in his thoughts, though she hadn’t spoken it aloud. He knew why that was, of course. It didn’t matter that they’d once been childhood acquaintances, even friends. There was no world in which it was proper for her to speak to a common laborer with such familiarity, and there was certainly no world in which he could say or do even a fraction of what he wanted to say or do in that moment.

He was still drinking in her smile when panic flickered suddenly in her eyes. “Look out!”

Dorian reacted before she’d finished shouting, dodging the blade aimed at his belly and grabbing his attacker by the wrist. He stomped one foot down on his opponent’s, then elbowed him hard in the ribs. The knife clattered to the ground as he twisted the youth’s arm in a very unnatural direction. His attacker cried out and fell back against the alley wall, uttering a string of curses that included a pointed insult against Dorian’s mother and everyone in his maternal line.

“Go on!” Dorian growled, advancing on the youth. “Get! And don’t let me catch you ‘round here again!”

The youth stumbled away, clutching his arm and moaning, and Dorian watched until he was out of the alley.

“The little boy…?” he heard her say. He turned to face her and found her looking at him still, her smile replaced by concern. “I saw him run this way,” she added.

“He ran off,” Dorian informed her. He took a deep breath and brushed his clothes off, checking for tears.

“There, you heard him,” her companion – suitor? – said quickly. “The child is gone, and there’s nothing more to be done.”

Allana – and didn’t that feel so strange, to think of this young woman as the girl he’d known? – ignored her suitor. “Do you know him?” she asked.

Dorian shook his head, remembering how the boy had clung desperately to his jacket. “Never seen him before today. He asked for help, so I did.”

Her expression softened at that. “I’m certain he is appreciative.” She shook her head, as if realizing something, and that soft look gave way once more to concern. “But are you hurt? Will that man come back?”

Dorian glanced from her to her companion; the gentleman was flustered and staring at him with more than a little contempt.

“Please, ma’am” the man interrupted, “let me escort you back to the carriage. I daresay this ruffian can sort out his affairs on his own.”

Dorian’s fingers curled slightly at his sides. He’d been called all manner of names for as far back as he could remember; it hadn’t taken long for him to learn not to react to any of them, to bite his tongue and swallow it down and continue on his way as if he didn’t know exactly what the world thought of him. Of all the crude epithets he’d endured over the years, this one was hardly the worst. And yet, Dorian found himself fighting a powerful, primal urge to let this soft dandy know just what sort of ruffian he was.

“I’m not hurt,” he said quietly, forcing back that old, old fury. “But I’m much obliged for your concern, miss.”

The fine gentleman was glaring at him outright now. “I must see to my horses. Miss Solo? Shall we?”

Allana didn’t respond at first, her gaze still fixed on him, and Dorian felt as if a part of him that had spent too long drifting aimlessly at sea had finally been caught by the tide and returned to shore. Stay, he wanted to tell her, and might have, had she been alone. It was ridiculous, he knew. He couldn’t expect her to have cherished the memory of their brief friendship as he had, for he had given her nothing to remember or take with her, while she had given him everything. Even so, he couldn’t stand by now and watch her disappear from his life forever…

She finally turned to her companion and favored him with a tired but gracious smile. “Yes, of course. I’m actually feeling quite faint; if you would return me to Coronet Arms, I would be ever so obliged to you.”

Coronet Arms. Was she…?

Allana took the gentleman’s arm and allowed him to lead her away, pausing only long enough to look over her shoulder at him once more, a faint smile curving her lips. Dorian exhaled with a laugh once they had retreated a ways further, and thought that the thrill of the fight must be lingering in his system, for his stomach churned and his heart beat as furiously as ever. He ran both hands through his hair and held them there, and he laughed again.

She wasn’t faint at all, he’d wager, and far cleverer than that fine fellow she’d accompanied.

Dorian found his discarded cap and brushed the dirt off it, looking down the alley at the street he’d come from. He would never make it to his shift on time; he was as good as dismissed. And the Coronet Arms was well within a reasonable distance to walk. It looked as if it might rain, but he didn’t mind that.

“Don’t do anything idiotic,” he muttered to himself, imagining what his brother would say if he were here. That thought was quickly snuffed out by the memory of Allana, by turns defiant and impassioned and sweet and concerned, and completely heedless of her own safety as she sought to rescue one scared little boy.

She was still the girl he’d known in every way that mattered, and he was just as struck by her now as he had been back then. And if his admiration for her held a new and unfamiliar sort of longing that he was loath to examine more closely, well… he could sort through that later. Right now, he had somewhere to be.


Fin

~~

 

A great way to finish the 5+1 challenge. Dorian and Allana, true friends and attracted to each other. The sense of loss and no goodbye in the first 5 parts and in the end with Dorian meeting her again and following

 

Something's better than nothing, right?

Yeah, Owen's not going to let that opportunity slip past him...

"Ridiculously amiable" is exactly what she'd think, and of course Mara still loves her swords and knives even in this reality

Aw yeah, Tahiri

We really never got any time at all with the Solo kids and Ben in the EU until LotF, and we all know what a flaming dumpster fire that was, so it doesn't count, so once again the EU let all sorts of story potential slip through their fingers. The dynamic here would have been interesting, in that all of them were young adults by the time Ben was born, but theirs was a close family, so they still would have been involved in his life. I definitely see it playing out partly like this example; although cousins, they'd essentially play the role of "cool aunt/uncle", teaching him things that his parents probably wouldn't.

"Your Ladyshipness" lolol

Well, that's guaranteed to make Jaina determined to prove him wrong

Look, this is a really good sentence, and quality L/M content, but you realize that you keep saying "all in good time, Gabri" and then toss me literally five or six sentences featuring Luke and Mara and frankly, I think you just like to torture me

Aw

And now Ben gets to be the cool uncle older cousin

LOLOL

That's right

Aw yeah, Owen is a doting uncle in every reality

I know these feels, my cats pull the same act

We're going to need an expansion of this, you know...

 

@earlybird-obi-wan

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and thank you for all your comments throughout the Kessel Run!




@Gabri_Jade

I do enjoy imagining what the dynamic would have been like between Anakin and Owen if they had actually been raised as stepbrothers. I remember reading some fanfic that touched on that relationship way, way back. Hmm, *scribbles down plot bunnies*

Of course

As horrifying as it is, I was really proud that I could elicit this reaction with a word prompt and a single line of dialogue.

That's right.

One of the best things about writing AUs, giving characters the chance to interact who might not otherwise have interacted. I'm just all kinds of interested in exploring those various relationship dynamics, including the one here between Anakin and Ben, whether I do it here or in other happy AUs.

I had to.

His plan is working perfectly.

lolololol

*points to happy Skywalker family fluff*

I'm a sucker for these two in any reality, but it's definitely nice writing a happier father-son bond.

Heck yeah he does. (I love them so much.)

Luke Skywalker, rockin' the frilled neck cloth since 1776 (or whenever, I can't be bothered to check the dates )

Owen is the best

I literally have no idea what I'm going to do with this, but I guess I'll have to figure it out, won't I?




@Mira_Jade

Aww! And as always, take your time; I'm not going anywhere.

I aim to surprise.

RIIIIIGHT???

Ha, I wasn't sure how I was going to work in those words at first, but when I started thinking about what any of the characters might consider a talisman, the book was the thing that jumped out at me. From there, the whole ficlet just fell into place. I'm so glad you enjoyed the Veeran introspection; I always love when I'm able to flesh him out more and give his side of things. His experiences with the doctor in this story are necessarily different from the main 'verse, but there is still some overlap, and I love using that to sort of inform the other 'verse, while still telling a unique story here.

It definitely shows where Dorian's priorities are.

Veeran might not be quite as perceptive as Dorian, but when it comes to his brother's health, he notices everything.

Lol, I figured if he had to resort to writing in his book, he probably wouldn't have any ink of his own either.

Veeran really is in a tough spot here. He really can't do much more to interfere than he already has - which isn't much to begin with - without making a bigger mess of things, and he doesn't want to hurt his brother either. There's still that resentment there, toward Dorian and Allana both, I think, but at the same time, he can see their feelings for each other are genuine. He pretty much knows it's out of his hands, but whether or not he can accept that or make peace with it is something else...

I'm getting there! I actually have a Veeran introspection piece coming up after these replies, and then my plan is to post the responses to a certain set of five dialogue prompts that someone gave me a while back... and then maybe after that I can really make some progress on the fancy ball story?

*snickers*

It's always the quiet ones, lol.

Just wait until I actually write stuff in the happy AU...

You know what, I'm going to post the picture again, because why not?

Anakin Sr. and Ben:

Spoiler

Right??

I'm basically of the mind that Disney should do an entire TV series set in an alternate universe where Anakin doesn't fall to the dark side ( ) so we can get all the actors back and follow the adventures of middle-aged Anakin and Obi-Wan and Padmé as they raise the kids and fix the Jedi Order and the galaxy and whatnot... like, omg Mira, can you imagine essentially a live-action Song!verse? Hayden and Ewan and everyone else are the perfect age, and it's all fanfic anyway, gimme my happy Skywalker AU!!! Literally no one will care if you're breaking with canon as long as you acknowledge it up front and limit it to one series. (Okay, some people will care, but whatever, it's all fanfic now. All of it. Accept reality and move on. )

Okay, I guess I just really want to see more Hayden and Ewan (and any other PT actor who is willing to return) as these characters. Sue me.

I went through like three different potential themes before I landed on one that felt right, and once I did I was like, well duh, obviously that's what the theme should have been for Allana (and Dorian). I knew I wanted to get that reunion in here, and I'm glad the rest of it came together the way it did. I wasn't sure for a while, but I'm happy with how it all turned out.

Yay! I do enjoy sprinkling in little bits of happiness for these characters, especially the ones who didn't make it that far in the profic. This AU really has been a warm-up in some ways for the happy AU.

Great nerds think alike.

And like I said before, I didn't fully intend to kill off Anakin in this AU, but once the decision was made I did want to make it a little different than canon in that he was over a decade older when it happened and he had a lot more time with his family and got to meet Allana, etc. It's interesting (and sad) to compare and contrast this real world battle with the ones fought in the NJO, especially when you think of all the young life snuffed out.

And of course I had to find a way to tie in Grandpa Anakin because of course I did.

Losing someone you love is always going to be hard, but having them ripped from you unexpectedly and in their prime is a strange and horrible sort of pain that I still don't fully have words for, so I'm glad that part stood out to you.

Also, Padmé loves the sea, that's my headcanon and I'm sticking to it. (And obviously you know that Allana and oceans are a thing. )

That was definitely intentional

I just love writing Ben and Allana together, and I'll never be able to write their relationship without seeing it as a version of the one in EtF.

My precious cinnamon rolls.

I'm so glad you loved it!! I was unsure at first if it would be a good idea to return to this scene when it already worked well as dialogue-only, but this felt like such an important goodbye in the greater context of all these stories, and especially with that one reunion at the end, I couldn't resist.

This. Exactly this.

I'm running out of ways to say 'thank you' and 'I'm glad you liked it', but I'm so glad you liked this!!

She's so adorable

I'm always happy to hear when I've done well setting a scene.

Aw yeah, I'm very pleased to have this effect.

Well, I wasn't even sure if my writing was going justice to the ideas I wanted to get across, so I'm really happy that it resonated with you!

I had a need for some positive Jacen-Allana interaction after everything I've put them through in EtF.

I didn't either!

I'm just saying, Dorian didn't survive Sith training on his wits alone, you know?

It really does, and I'm so glad that that comes across even in such vastly different circumstances across all the AUs.

Smitten before he even knows it.

I love that you saw this parallel!

He's such a smirky snot sometimes.

RIGHT? GAAAAAAH!!!

Probably safe to say most Regency heroines do not meet their love interest in this manner? (And I love it so much )

Lol, I'm glad it was funny, because it was also the author avoiding the use of period-appropriate profanity and/or slurs.

Jealous? Never.

Me toooooo

Ha, this was one of my favorite sentences in this whole vig, so I'm glad you noticed it too! And I love that you saw both of those connections!

I guess this is why she thought this same sly trick would work when she was talking to the horses.

Sometimes he just can't contain his emotions.

Of course

Aw, I'm so glad you feel that way! I wasn't sure for a while if it would all come together, so I'm relieved that it all worked.

Lol, like I told Gabri, I haven't really planned out what all that sentence means for the rest of this AU, but I guess I'm gonna have to figure it out now, aren't I?

This all makes me so, so happy to hear, and thank you as always for reading and commenting and giving me all sorts of ideas, oh and also for ALL THE PROMPTS that helped shape this AU into something truly special for me. It's wonderful knowing that I have this fun and indulgent and relatively happy AU world to come back to whenever the mood strikes, and I look forward to sharing many more stories in it.

 

Notes: Hey guys, I’m back with my first post-Kessel Run ficlet! Although technically, I started writing this during the KR, and it was originally supposed to be part of my week 6 fic before it veered off in a different direction. I thought I might use it as a bonus ficlet during week 7, but I didn’t finish it until today, so here we are.

This introspective piece takes place during Part Three of Between the Moon and the Stars, right before the scene where Dorian returns from his clandestine piano lesson with Allana…

---

That Which He Close Concealed


It was nearing midnight, and Veeran Starskip was still awake.

He didn’t usually have any trouble falling asleep. By the time his work was done and his last meal was eaten, he was ready to collapse onto his bed and pass into a deep and typically dreamless sleep that only the first light of day or the bells of the village church could rouse him from. And yet, here he was, wide awake and staring up at the slanted ceiling of his room above the stable, wondering just what sort of mess his brother had gotten himself into.

He’d known Dorian wouldn’t call it off, so he wasn’t exactly surprised when his twin said he was going out for a few hours and to not wait up for him. It had only been a matter of time, and when the baronet’s carriage had passed by the stable yard without Miss Solo in it… well, it didn’t take any great intellect to put those pieces together.

Veeran glanced over at Dorian’s bed with its precisely folded sheets – the doctor had always insisted on precision, hadn’t he? – and he sat up with a heavy sigh, running both hands over his face. The truth would get out sooner or later, and they would both be dismissed, and then where would they go? Certainly not anywhere around here. Would they wander the countryside like vagabonds, begging for work? Or would they return to London, to the only life they’d known?

God in heaven, he didn’t want to go back. Maybe Dorian could handle it; Dorian had always been good and noble-hearted and brave. But Veeran wasn’t any of those things, he only ever pretended to be. It was only here in this place – this quiet, happy, untainted place – where he'd begun to think there might be anything more to him than mayhem and muck and noise, or that there was even a chance he could start over. If he was forced to leave here… if he had to go back to being— to surviving…

He laid both arms across his knees and stared at a patch of moonlight on Dorian’s bed. A few hours and a quiet house and a beautiful girl. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t, even if he sometimes wondered what would have happened if it were him in the alley that day instead of Dorian. Would she have favored him with that same soft smile? Would he have wanted that? Would he be acting as mad as his brother if he thought there was even the slightest chance…

No, he knew his place, and it wasn’t for him to reach so high, no matter how prettily she smiled or how sweet she was with the horses. It wasn’t anything more than a passing fancy besides, and he knew better than to believe otherwise, or to jeopardize what he and Dorian had here by being so reckless.

Oh, but that thought stung. It stuck in his gut like a knife and twisted. After everything they’d been through, his twin was willing to risk their one chance at happiness for a girl he barely knew, a girl he would never, ever be able to keep. And what’s more, he didn’t care that he was going to drag Veeran down with him.

He wanted it all to go away. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore, losing what little control of his life he had left, afraid and jealous – fine, he was jealous – and ashamed of it all. He wanted… dammit, he didn’t know what he wanted; he only knew that he couldn’t go back to the life he’d lived before. He wouldn’t go back.

He let out a bitter laugh despite himself and rubbed a hand over his face. After everything they’d been through… but what right did he have to begrudge Dorian anything? Who had stood as a shield between Veeran and the doctor, right from the beginning? He might not have come out of it completely unscathed, but he knew how much worse it could have been.

Veeran bowed his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. He owed his brother everything. His life, his sanity… he knew how close he’d been to losing them both, and there were still times when he wondered…

A faint creaking met his ears, the sound of someone climbing the stairs. Veeran sat up straight on the edge of the bed and tried to drag every wayward thought into submission. There were some things Dorian didn’t need to know about him, not now and maybe not ever. Veeran was no shield – he was a blunt instrument, always had been, an effective if imprecise tool – but he could manage a secret or two if it meant sparing his brother even more pain.


~~