#glug

"I'll get over you, I know I will. I'll pretend my ship's not sinking. And I'll tell myself I'm over you. Cause I'm the king of wishful thinking." (King of Wishful Thinking, Go West)

"Honey, I'm home." He drawled, his voice dry.

Only the empty silence of the apartment responded to him. He scoffed. Per usual.

Sylv knew how lucky he was to have his own apartment to go to when he was on leave. Most commandos had only their barracks to rest in. Evangeline, the Jedi General he often worked alongside was kind enough to help him buy his own place (that being, she bought it for him. With what money, he'd never know.) Despite all this, it still didn't feel like...home. It was cold. Empty. He didn't have a roommate, didn't have a pet, nobody to share the space with. His brothers were out on a mission with Evan, and Sylv didn't have any other friends he could invite over. Just himself.

With a heavy sigh, he got to undoing the chestpiece of his heavy Katarn-class armour, grunting at the sound of it clacking against the floor when it finally freed his shoulders from its aching weight. He dropped his holoprojector onto the kitchen counter with a dull thud before he stumbled over to the refrigerator, pulled out last night's (more like last week's) leftovers, and sat heavily on the couch. He began idly flicking through the channels on his big (small) fancy (second-hand) teleprojector. Nothing really caught his eye, so he busied himself with gnawing on the cold hard leftovers, when he suddenly found himself staring at the teleprojector with his mouth gaping open. There, on the local news channel, which he never really watched, was a headline. A headline that was very worrying indeed.

"JEDI PLOT TO ASSASSINATE SUPREME CHANCELLOR THWARTED, SUPREME CHANCELLOR DECLARES THE JEDI AS TRAITORS OF THE REPUBLIC"

The reporter continued to blather on about the incident and the resulting consequences for the Jedi, but Sylv wasn't listening to her anymore. No, his mind was on more pressing issues.

"....fuck!"

He burst up, knocking his plate with the cold food to the floor, and rushed back to the kitchen to hastily grab his chestplate and tried to put it on again, stumbling about and crashing into every surface nearby, cursing every time he did. If the Jedi were now "traitors", then that would mean Evan was a traitor...but she couldn't be, right? Sure, she was ruthless on the field, but that was on the field. Otherwise, she was the kindest woman he'd ever met (and he'd met a good couple of women over the course of the war), completely dedicated to the Republic's cause. She couldn't be a traitor. No way.

He barely managed to make it out of the door before he began sprinting down the corridor of his apartment block then out of the building. He had to find Evan and his brothers. He had to warn them.

After 6 months I finally finished this more detailed version of S2 Adar and Glûg. Watercolour on gessoed paper, 16”x16”

For some reason I wrote a modern AU where Adar is a pole dancer instructor who also owns a daycare center and I've grown quite fond of it. He was a troubled kid when he was young who ran away from home and found other troubled, queer kids and they survived doing odd jobs and performing their punk rock band at small venues and then he met Sauron and they married and Adar was a stay at home dad with little Glug before deciding to become a volunteer firefighter. He was called in during a bad fire and was severely burned which highlighted how abusive Sauron really was as a husband and he finally divorced Sauron and took a now college age Glug to Lindon to open his daycare and became an instructor at Gil-Galad's gym where he meets a certain adorable smith...