having a romantic relationship is not a requirement of, nor does it require, moving away from jedi teachings! it is perfectly possible to be a jedi who is happily married! see fucking also: the JK romances, the JC romances, the ashara romance, the green jedi as a fucking order (what’s this, more than one mode of jedi thought existing in fucking canon say it ain’t fucking so!!!!)
hell in the (sadly cancelled) original expansion plans the tython order as a whole changed its official stance as a whole to be chill with (consensual, adult) relationships
screams, pulls hair, rolls around on the floor in frustration
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❀ Discovery that the OC is force-sensitive (as AUif the OC isn’t normally)
oh god i could write a whole fic for this [cough]
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit.Fuck.
(Pinch yourself to make sure you’re notdreaming. That works, right? Fuck. Shit. Fuck.)
(This isn’t happening. I can go back tobed and not think about this. Sleep, and maybe this won’t have happened in themorning.)
(She went back to bed, and lay awakethinking about it for the next six hours.)
-
Eirn knew a lot of things about being Sith,even if she probably wasn’t supposed to.
She knew it was tough. She knew it wascompulsory. She knew that Academies were cruel places, run by Overseers whomade the harshest drill sergeants look like nursery nurses by comparison. (sheknew that was at least partially propaganda, but didn’t doubt for a second thatthe closer one got to the repulsive centre of the Sith orthodoxy, the more truethis was).
She knew, all the way through her morningPT in the predictably sterile loneliness of Quinn’s cargo bay, that it was onlya matter of time before someone found out. Before someone found her out.They’d think she’d lied for years, she realised; that, or she’d immediately beturfed out into Korriban’s sands, left to fend for herself on that hatefuldustball with only fear and incompetence between her and the yawning void.
Why me. Why now. Fuck the fucking Force Ifucking hate it fucking with my fucking life-
-
She tried to repeat the Incident, alone inthe fresher - prayed it wouldn’t work, that she could attribute the- Incidentto a- malfunction with the artificial gravity. A sleep deprived hallucination.A misremembered dream. Some combination of the above.
(There was still a scuff mark on the wallthat proved it had happened at all, but she was choosing to ignore as manyinconvenient details as she could)
-
Alright, Illte. Focus. You can do this. Pause, and then: Thisisn’t a zit, Illte. You can’t just slap some fucking concealer on thefucking Force, for fuck’s fucking sake-
At least she could autopilot her waythrough making caf; pray that caffeinating herself might give her the energyand focus to deal with this with anything more productive than a stream ofunhelpful profanity.
‘Good morning, Lieutenant.’
Quinn, of course, scared the hell out ofher - she actually screamed, dropping her mug and instantly acutelyaware that everything about this had been a mistake-
(-fuck shit fuck it’s dropped it’s gonnafucking smash it’ll be hot fuck shit i’m-)
-except it didn’t, it just hung there,stupidly, her caf all over the floor but her mug hovering impossibly above itand Quinn was staring at it almost as much as she was - at least until hereached across and, incredibly gingerly, tried to tug it out of position withone hand. No dice; it wavered a little but, until she looked to him (her ownexpression one still of raw and naked terror; his own a sort of warily concerned)remained determinedly in place.
‘Lieutenant?’ he managed - his voice as muchstrangled as it was anything else. ‘Is that-’ he added, a little stupidly, ‘Didyou-?’
Eirn did not have anything she could say tothat, so instead, she burst into tears.
-
Things that did not help: Quinn making hercaf. Quinn. Making her caf.
Well. Maybe the droid made it. She had noidea. He’d ordered her to go sit down in the conference room while he found thedroid to deal with the mess she’d made, and she’d numbly obeyed, slumping intothe seat she usually ate her breakfast at and failing quite entirely to notconsider in great detail scenario after grisly scenario about the ways thiswould end in her painful, messy demise. She didn’t even notice that he’dentered until he put a mug of caf almost in front of her before taking a seatopposite, and it took long enough to sink in that anyone else was even therethat he was seated before she finally pulled herself together enough to mumblea deeply embarrassed, ‘Thank you, my lord.’
It was little comfort that Quinn did notlook as though he knew how to reply to that, exactly - never mind how to begin this uncomfortable conversation.
‘What happened,’ Quinn began, uncertainly -not a question, not yet, anyway - 'In the galley-’
'I’m sorry, my lord,’ Eirn blurted out -she’d made a mess and he’d had to take responsibility for cleaning upand that was her job and he was the Sith, here, and-
'Lieutenant,’ Quinn just replied -impossibly calm, 'I- know what you’re going through. If-’
No, Eirn thought to herself wildly, youfucking don’t, all this means is that i’m going to fucking dieand-
'I don’t-’ she started - looking back toher mug, at that - trying not to focus on it in case she did anythingaccidental, again, and mostly just trying not to be strangled by her own fear.
'If you can truly,’ Quinn started, 'Use-the Force, Lieutenant, I-’
'Don’t,’ she babbled, 'Make me- please,I’ll do anything-’ (almost anything- actually anything?) ’-just-don’t-’
'Lieutenant,’ Quinn repeated (why,Eirn thought, abstractly, doesn’t he ever use my fuckin name-?)'You know that I have no choice in this matter. The law is quite clear.’
Become Sith, truly Sith, or die trying. Itwas the second part that Eirn had always been grateful her status as runtprotected her from; not just death, but the manners in which Sith tended todie. (The manner in which she knew she would, were it a road she was forceddown; the way her mother had always seemed as afraid, as Anya blossomed in theForce, as she was proud)
'My lord,’ Eirn repeated (whined, even toher own ears) ’Please-’
'I will teach you,’ Quinn added, ignoringher whine entirely. His voice, for once, was not irritable; no condescension,no judgement. No kindness, though, either; just that sort of firm,near-dispassionate authority that he assumed when studying where best to layhis pieces on the board.
'If you agree,’ he added, 'Of course. Ifnot- I will- well,’ he sighed, 'I- you must know, Lieutenant, what the lawrequires.’
Well, she tried to tell herself. BetterQuinn than the likes of Baras. Cold comfort as that was.
'I do,’ she managed, though - numbly, and alittle distantly. Why me. 'My lord.’ She knew; she agreed, entirelyunwillingly. What choice did she have? Learn at Quinn’s heel, or that of anunknown Overseer in an Academy. At least Quinn was a known variable; perhaps hecould even be persuaded to keep it between the two of them, at least for now.
'Lieutenant,’ Quinn added - pausing, thistime, when she looked sharply up across the table at him - flinching, even,though she had no idea at what. 'The Force is a gift to be welcomed, not acurse to be feared. It is- your birthright, even. Far more than it is mine.’
'As you say,’ Eirn just replied, her heartnot in it in the slightest, 'my lord.’
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