...and very ginger

“Of course,” her tone remained pleasant, but the excitement at meeting a fellow member of her lost Order had faded behind a carefully constructed facade of professionalism. “All I meant is that the more allies that we can gather to our side, the better.”

Ithorian features were a little more difficult to read than those of most species, but Theron had spent enough time around them to know that the Jedi Knight probably saw right through the attempt. Choza’s calm countenance spoke nothing about his own thoughts or sentiments, and he simply dipped his large head in acknowledgement of her words.

“Our resistance appreciates all the help that the Alliance can provide,” Choza continued on, as if there was nothing more to comment on.

“We are happy to lend our aid in the fight against Zakuul in any way that we can,” Grey had smoothly shifted back into the mode as the Alliance’s Commander, the moment of vulnerability covered by Jedi calm. She assured Choza of the Alliance’s commitment to do everything in their power to take down the Star Fortress currently threatening the planet.

But as they walked away, she held her shoulders just a little stiffer than normal, and her pleasant, neutral expression was just a little too placid. It was probably convincing enough for everyone around them, but Theron could tell that the other Jedi’s words had stung. He pursed his lips together, trying to figure out if this was one of those moments where he should say something — or let her mull things over on her own.

He didn’t like to push. Talking about emotions had never been his strong suit, yet as uncomfortable and itchy as it made him to broach those kinds of awkward conversations, there were times it was more beneficial to not push exactly. But maybe give things a nudge.

“You know, I’m probably not the guy who should speak about this,” Theron said quietly, “but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a Jedi wanting to know where her best friend went.”

It didn’t take a Jedi to see the slight tension in her shoulders ease a fraction, and the tightness to her smile relax some. “But is he not right? Should I not be above such things?”

“I’m just saying, I think maybe a guy who spent five years meditating to himself might need a few remedial social skills.”

That got a smile out of her, which was the whole point. “There is nothing wrong with meditation.”

“Also, you’re a Master to his Knight, so like. I think maybe he shouldn’t be trying to lecture you on attachment.” Not that was a particularly sore subject with Theron or anything.

She shook her head good-naturedly, but he recognized the hints of her amused exasperation with him peeking through. “You do know that wisdom is not restricted by Jedi rank?”

“Oh, trust me,” Theron said, “I know.”

After a quick scan around their surroundings revealed they had traveled far enough away from the resistance’s camp to be out of sight, he reached out and squeezed her hand. Her smile faded as she let her gaze drift up to the mountains surrounding them, but he felt her hand squeeze back.

“Sometimes I wonder,” she hesitated a moment, before continuing quietly, “if I really am all that much of a Jedi.”

He frowned. Surely she was joking. Prior to Zakuul’s invasion and the decimation of the Jedi Order, she was practically their paragon and poster child. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed since they’d rescued her from Carbonite.

“There’s so few of us now,” she whispered. “Before all of this, things made sense. I had my place in the Order, with my crew. And when I woke up, nothing was the same. The galaxy seemed suddenly so much bigger, and smaller, all at once.”

Theron drew closer to her, and she instinctively reached out to take a firmer grip on his hand. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts and get his tongue to wrap around any words that might help. However, those elusive words appeared to elude him, so he settled for something that felt like a consolation prize, given everything she had lost.

“You still have me.”

“I am glad for that, truly.” She gave him a wan smile, then leaned her head into his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel you are all that I have left.”

Even though there was still a tension in the air and in her voice when she spoke, her body seemed to relax just a fraction at their proximity. He felt his own throat constrict a little at her words and had to work to swallow. Something about how she pulled in closer and pressed against him made him feel like maybe he hadn’t exactly fixed something — but at least he had broken nothing, either.

Now, if only he could ease some of those burdens she carried with her.

He was lost for a few moments, just enjoying the fact that they were together. A few tendrils of hair tickled his neck as they blew in the stiff wind whipping around the mountainside. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the inside of her wrist, running along the coarse blue veins that ran just under the skin. It was one of those rarer moments, a feeling of peace encapsulated in time. Despite the galaxy feeling like it was falling apart around them, everything felt right for this brief moment.

He felt her head move a fraction against his shoulder, and then a faint relief of pressure against his chest as she lifted her head. Her gaze met his, and there was a question in them he couldn’t quite place. A few more strands of her dark blonde hair had blown loose from her ponytail, and she absently tucked them back behind her ear as she cocked her head to one side.

If the greatest artisan in all of the galaxy was standing there, Theron was certain they’d never be able to properly capture the sight. The way her cheeks pinkened at the chill mountain air, or the way the freckles on her nose crinkled as the slightest smile graced her features, or the way her eyes reflected the clear blue Alderaanian skies.

It seemed like he didn’t have words for that, either.

“You’re... what I mean is...” Smooth, Theron. Smooth.

Mercifully, his comm link beeped, and reality set back in. It seemed the Resistance had located the shield bunker on this planet.

“Duty calls?”

“Yeah.” He gave a nod. “Duty calls.”

He didn’t let go of her hand when she made to pull away, and she flashed him a quizzical look.

“You’re the most Jedi person I have ever met. Just so you know.”

Her puzzled expression was replaced by a bright smile that lit up her entire face, sweeping away the shadows that had gathered about her. In a quick motion, she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“You really are a smooth talker, you know that?”

“It’s my best quality.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but smiled and gave their linked hands a little tug as an indication they should make their way back to the camp. As much as he wanted to at times, Theron couldn’t fix all the problems in the galaxy — but perhaps that wasn’t the point of all this. Maybe just being there, helping smooth some of these rough edges when they poked through was enough.

When the foreboding dark clouds rolled in across the horizon, they were speeding through the Pelath-Ri Marches towards the coordinates provided by Rokuss, the leader of Voss’s resistance movement. It forced them to leave the well-worn trail and take cover in one of the nearby caves as a dark, thick curtain of rain grew closer and closer. The sharp tang of ozone in the air told them they were in for quite the show.

The ceiling of the cave was high enough to keep them dry, save for the occasional drip, so they decided to wait out the storm. Theron drew his datapad and attempted to send a message to Miot, who was still waiting at the shuttle, but the electricity crackling in the clouds seemed to be producing too much interference. Or maybe the Sullustan had stepped away for a caf break. He grumbled under his breath and ran his fingers through his already unruly hair, making it stand even more on end.

“Are you being grumpy back there?” The question was tinged with amusement.

A glance up from his datapad revealed Grey was kneeling at the mouth of the cave, her fingertips tracing the patterns of the rivulets of water as it cascaded over her hands. She was calm, quiet, her eyes following the water as it flowed around her hands, oblivious to the chaos of the storm outside. Despite her actions, he could have sworn she somehow wasn’t actually getting wet. 

“What are you doing?” Theron quirked a brow at her.

Instead of the expected answer regarding the rain, she just said, “Listening.”

“Ah yes, the soothing sounds of a torrential downpour. How relaxing.”

“Some people find it relaxing,” she said with a hint of amusement, “but that’s not what I’m listening to.”

An urge to roll his eyes at the obvious Force nonsense rose in him, but he resisted it. She never seemed to find his disdainful quips about the Force nearly as amusing as he did — one of the many downsides of dating a Jedi, he supposed. “Then what are you listening to?”

“It’s hard to put into words,” she said after a moment. “The sound of a raindrop hitting the ground may be similar everywhere, but the way it flows is not. Thunderstorms on Odessen have this powerful beat that seems to harmonize with the rainfall. Here it’s more discordent, more turbulent. The vibrations of it as it crashes into the ground are a counterpoint to the steady rhythm of the rain. A bit like the duality of Voss itself.”

Theron was pretty sure that he had never listened to precipitation that closely in his life, and in all honesty, never planned to. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but as much as I’m enjoying this little poetry reading, I don’t really want to get waterlogged.”

Grey didn’t reply, but her eyes never left the rain as it poured down, an expression of almost… longing on her face. There had been many times in Theron’s life where he once wished for the same connection to the Force that the Jedi had. He craved information, explanations for everything around him — and that there was this entire spectrum walled off to him, that he’d never be able to feel. It was difficult to not resent it in a way. But it was that look on her face, that feeling of peace and belonging and yet simultaneous yearning — he’d never be able to truly understand it. And that stung.

The water continued to splash off her palm, splattering against her armor and the gloves, and if she kept it up, she’d be drenched before long. And they hadn’t exactly brought a spare set of clothes to change into.

“I didn’t exactly bring a towel for you to dry off,” he pointed out.

“I don’t need a towel, I can use the Force.”

It took him a moment to process that. “Wait, what? You can use the Force to dry yourself off?”

She pressed her lips together, as if trying to suppress a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Kidding.”

The playful teasing could have annoyed him, but in the dim light of the cave, the way the water droplets clung to her hair and eyelashes gave her an almost ethereal quality. Like some otherworldly being from beyond the stars. She turned away from him as a few more water droplets trickled across her head and down her neck. He noticed the rivulets of water had soaked through the knees of her pants and were now dripping onto the cave floor. Correction: an ethereal, otherworldly being that was unfortunately on her way to getting soaked to the bone.

With a shake of his head, he said, “Maybe you should save all of that weather poetry slam for another time, because right now you’re getting soaked.” 

A rumble resonated in the distance, and she angled her head towards it, gaze fixed on the horizon. Although he couldn’t see what she was looking at, he could tell she was still straining to hear something. 

“I’m sure you can hear the thunder or the Force or whatever it is just as well in the dry area of the cave,” he added.

She flashed him that look again, amused with her lips pressed together as if she saw right through his sarcasm. If he didn’t know any better, he might think she was trying not to laugh. The cave became darker, as if the clouds outside had closed in and blocked out almost all the daylight. After a few more moments of whatever nature communing she had been doing, she finally relented and stood.

“Fine, you win,” she said, attempting to use her cape to wipe some of the water away.

“It’s not a contest.”

The brow she quirked in his direction indicated she didn’t quite believe that. “If we do not want to brave the storm, then I believe we might be stuck here for a little while. The storm appeared quite large.”

At that moment the thunder cracked again, echoing in the cave, and he felt it in his chest, in his bones. He could see her silhouette in the faint light, reaching up to her hair, fingering the wet, limp strands. The space between them shrunk in just a few steps, and without much thought he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. That ethereal Jedi vanished as she blinked up at him in surprise. He flashed her a sheepish grin in reply, although he wasn’t sure if she’d really be able to see it in the darkness.

She hugged the jacket closer to her body as if she were suddenly aware of the chill in the air. “Thank you.” 

“I can’t have you catching a cold.” He meant for the comment to come out cool and casual, but it was laced with more than a hint of affection. “Who will save the galaxy then?”

She bit her lip, as if trying to hide that same, almost bashful smile he seemed to summon in moments like these. If there had been more illumination in the cave, he imagined he might see the usual flush that accompanied that look. He reached out, his fingertips grazing her cheek as they followed the curve of her face. He could just feel the heat of her blush radiating through his gloves. It was times like this, when she was soft and vulnerable and open, that all the sharp edges he’d honed to keep people out were utterly useless. At least against her.

His hands glided down to her hips almost of their own accord as she moved forward, their faces inches apart, their breath mingling in the air. He detected the sweetness of her breath, a hint of the caf she’d been drinking earlier. He drew closer as her mouth parted, his own lips hovering just above hers, neither of them moving. And then, with a sudden surge of wind that sent the rain nearly horizontal outside the mouth of the cave, the thunder crashed again. The burst of lightning that followed was so bright that it lit up the cave for just a moment, and he could see that same sparkle in her eyes that made his heart race.