#cael sorrin

[jedimasteramell]

I commissioned the awesome @damarlegacy to draw my SIS Jedi disaster, Cael Sorrin! Im so happy to see him finally the worn-af bun-toting havent-shaved-in-2-days disaster he actually is. Thank you so much bab♡♡♡

[uldren-sov]

DAY SIX

Following along with the prompts from here

DAY 6: awkward kiss | morning kiss Hey remember how Cael is ffffff abysmal at something despite being a spy? CHARACTERS: @jedimasteramell ‘s Cael and Astra who’s mine.

It was always so ...

Lord Lucien Felth might have been one of the most beautiful people Astra has ever laid her Pureblood eyes on. Tall, perfect dark hair, romantic gold eyes, and even that scar didn’t take away from his beauty. People stared when he wasn’t in his Sith robes and armor or they noticeably looked away away from him to ensure they weren’t caught staring when he was. Truly, he was a work of art, and he was hers, hers, hers.

It was always so disappointing, then, that he simply could not figure out how to use those perfect lips of his for anything worthwhile.

The fact alone that they were “romantic” was more by her design, everything generally was. She caught him, she lured him in, she kissed his lips not six months ago, and made him hers. Even so he was by far the most inexperienced, uninspired, bore of a lover that she ever had the misfortune to know. Not for her lack of trying! She tried consoling herself with that, at least, he was something of a good student, at times. He remembered things halfway. He got the gist, as they say, of most of her instructions. It was frustrating that every token of affection was yet another lesson.

Even now, together again after not seeing each other for a week on a lush tropical world, she imagined the scenario to be whisked away into the thick of the lush plethora of vivid, kaleidoscopic, flora; the perfect minute escape to steal affection away from the prying eyes of the Imperials, and bask in a vivacious, illicit, affair of stolen ardor.

And yet he marched quite literally past her with naught but a “there’s much to do,” before he was gone.

“Excuse me!” she snapped her fingers in case her words alone didn’t catch his attention. He stopped, the black robe settling against his frame before slowly turning around to regard her. “We haven’t seen each other in at least a week and you have nothing else to say? Nothing else to do?” She arched her eye ridge, staring at him archly as she watched him sigh.

In truth, she found herself caught up in her own lie more often than not, to bring about a faux entitlement that all Sith carried themselves with she had to believe it at least in part. She still heard the words she was saying, heard the thoughts she was thinking, and had to wonder if it was worth it. They kissed and it was just as wooden and uptight as all the others, his mouth hardly yielded to hers, his hands stayed firmly at his own sides, he let a kiss happen and she tried to make a kiss in the first place. It was how it went between them. When she pulled away she still huffed indigently and sashayed past him despite a near painful .

She needed to play the game, needed to act the princess, and needed to dote on her “lover” for all this to work. She was not going back to life before she was Sith, if it meant dealing with this "relationship” with all this underlying tension, then it was a worthy tradeoff.

At least he was pretty.

It wasn’t completely as though she detested the man, quite the contrary. There were moments of brilliance from him, moments of depth and consideration that kept her intrigued. The moments, though, were few and far between where most of the time he seemed the brute. Even now, in following his master’s orders he was ruthlessly efficient and brutal in his execution of demands. Not a single person was left in his wake.

Yet ... He’d find ways to serve his own goals out of a mission, deny other parties from taking advantage of him, and prove he’s perfectly capable of fighting smarter than just kill everyone and everything. More than anything, as well, for some reason - despite his apparent disinterest in her - he never let any harm come to her. There were key people they’ve also met where he was surprisingly considerate and even compassionate to. It kept her intrigued enough to not hate everything about their acting setup as it were. But now? Now he seemed determined to detract away from her complimentary thinking by being the Brute once more.

She didn’t understand it. They walked through ancient ruins alongside each other, he was attentive, curious, and even appreciative of her research as she walked through environs thousands of years old.

“You almost have a glow about you, you know,” he mentioned offhandedly amidst the silence. She picked herself up, balancing precariously on a ruined pillar that could, truly, only support her own weight, and regarded him as she rested her hand over her stomach.

“In what manner, darling? Indeed, I hope I am positively glowing as I am around such company,” she even dared to wink. Even in the lowlight she saw his cheeks warm to a pretty pink color. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“In your element,” he said, clarifying with a clearing of his throat. “This isn’t just a job for you, it’s a passion. It's a sight to behold.” He finally met her gaze, gold-to-gold, and her heart skipped a beat. There he was again. This other Lucien who was considerate and passionate and expressed it in this way that didn’t mean people had to die.

“I never knew you were such a romantic, darling,” she teased gently to cover over how she earnestly she took his words. It was ridiculous, really, better to leave affection at the door. Even so, she did trust him didn’t she? They had each other’s back more times than she could count, most notably was how many times he had outright saved her life, even at great cost to himself.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said in a small voice, quickly averting his eyes and turning from her. Surely, he was just being shy as he was wont to do at times when he decided to be tender. She peeked over, down to him, from her place on high atop the pillar as she delicately cleared her throat to call his attention. It worked famously and at seeing her so high up - her bridge to the pillar had crumbled to dust, no matter - he sighed and stood close to it’s base and held his arms out.

She sat at the edge, checked one last time as to his position, and then pushed herself off. Within seconds and with a grunt from him, she was caught in his arms. She smiled to herself at their little tradition and chuckled as pleasantly as she could manage despite his dour expression. She laced her arms around his neck as a response and drew herself in oh so close.

“Come now, darling, surely you enjoy keeping me off my feet,” it was a bit more double entendre than she had meant but she was immediately reminded as to the years they’ve known each other, the stress they’ve undertaken together, the fact she decreed they were dating months ago, and these were the only instances of her feet being kept off the floor.

...perhaps not for long. She drew his head down and kissed him as heated as she could. Sealing her lips to his she tangled her digits in his short black hair, angling his head, holding him close, as she drew him even further into the press of her mouth. Wooden again, and clutching onto her too tightly, he pressed hard enough, at least for a moment, to catch both their teeth against one another which made her jerk her head away and hold her mouth.

She held her hand up when he opened his mouth to apologize.

“No, no, it’s fine. Just let me down and we shall be on our way, shall we?” she escaped from his grasp and heard a beleaguered sigh from behind her as well as his acquiescence.

At least he was pretty.

[jedimasteramell]

Three Ways To Say I Love You

Happy RP-nniversary to my dear @uldren-sov. Its been so amazing and I’m beyond appreciative of every story and moment that we’ve had together, and for all my words I can’t explain just how much all of this has meant to me, how much I’ve enjoyed it all, and how awesome it is to have you as a friend. Thank you so much <3

Original Characters // SFW // SWTOR

-------------------

i. Daya & Tal

Daya nursed her cup of caf and blinked slowly out across the pinks and purple dudes of a spring Tatooine sunrise. Not yet did she allow the plans for the day to run amok in her head, rather, she savored the freshly-bought beans, the cool scent of the air filter, and the soft beating of foot prints that could only belong to one person.

Wrapping his arms around her, Talcyn rested his head on her shoulder with a yawn, content to return to sleeping right then and there. “You get up too early.” Sleepily, he whined, burying his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Oh habits are hard to break, sleepyhead.” Affectionately, she pressed a kiss into his auburn hair. “Kids more so than military training.”

He huffed in response, muffled by the soft skin of her neck. Tal ran his hands along her waist and down her arms, stealing away the mug of caf. He took a sip over her shoulder, and made a face. She laughed as she took it back from him. 

“Too much sugar?” She teased.

Tal brushed his fingers past her navel, rolling his head back to look her in the eye; gold like the sands in the sunlight meeting the first pale blue light of morning. “I don’t know how you drink that,”

“I can make you a cup.” Daya started to move away but Tal held her fast, and they both watched the twin suns rise up over the horizon. 

“Did you know I’d basically fallen in love with you by the time we left Coruscant?” Tal said, a loving whisper in her ear bearing the comfort of years of companionship.

“So you like to say.” She smiled, and careful of her horns, leaned her head against his. They were quiet a minute more.

“Hey Tal?” 

“Yes love?” 

“Thanks.” With a murmur, Daya set her mug down, laying her arms over his, basking in the low light and their love.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to her neck. “What about?”

“For coming to talk to me, offer your help, all those years ago on Ord Mantel.” Ever the romantic, she sighed dreamily, snuggling back into his embrace. “I dont know where I’d be without you that day.”

“Well not at home with such a handsome husband and beautiful family. A far more average looking one, most like.” He huffed at the humorous and ludicrous thought: he’d always be Daya’s, and her always his.

Daya laughed, shielding her eyes as the light flooded their little kitchen. “Love you too.”

ii. Astra & Cael

It’d been a long time since Cael had figured to call himself a jedi. Once he was more Sith he supposed, but now, now he was simply himself, at his own peace and balance. 

And with Astra, always with Astra. 

He broke his casual meditation to steal a glance at the darling woman fiing her jewelry in the mirror by the refresher. Even traveling the galaxy as artifact hunters, or well, an overeager archaeologist and her partner the bodyguard, Astra kept herself in beautiful shape, fierce and stunning as much in battle or in an excavation as she did dressed up for a party, or just waking up on their ship. He caught the flash of the worn gold wedding band, and his heart hopped with pleasure. 

Feeling him down their bond, one more pronounced and lasting than the metal ring on her finger, she turned and smiled, narrowing her bright yellow eyes as she sauntered over, well aware at how much he appreciated the sway of her hips. 

“You can touch too if you want.” She teased, stepping up behind him, tilting his head back with both hands to kiss him upside down. 

“You’re insatiable.” A charming and lazy grin split his lips, and he blinked at her affectionately.

“And you’ve had so much practice now, You’ve gotten immeasurably better.” She matched his expression with a wicked grin of her own, playfulness sparking through her eyes. 

Cael groaned, and a blush reached his cheeks before he could stop himself. “That’s true, but honestly Astra, you can’t judge me so harshly, you were my first after all.”

“I try and forget about it.” She grimaced good-naturedly, but there remained a kernel of truth there. Stars he’d been really bad at well.... everything. 

If only to dispel his embarrassment, Cael huffed a laugh and turned, so, still on his knees, he faced Astra, his hands on the back of her legs. “Thank you.” 

“You dont have to thank me for touching me darling, as potent as I am.” She responded wryly, running her scarlet fingers through his dark hair. Cael continued smiling, their banter was half the fun.

“Thank you for staying, when I gave you every reason not to ever trust me again.” 

Her toying expression softened, he’d never stop punishing himself. Maybe that was unnecessary, but it remained proof of his conviction. She knew the truth, could sense it intrinsically in the connection between them. “Thank you for giving me reasons not to.”

iii Azred & Jac

Jac hit the ground with a cloud of dust and an ‘oof’.

His training saber spun away from him across the dirt, as he sensed Azred’s slow prowl come to a halt several paces from him. Jac felt worry, and then humor when he gave the other jedi a cheeky grin, coming off his partner, and readily accepted the hand that he sensed offered.

‘You alright?’ Azred’s thought stole his attention from whatever the older master was saying to the assembled group.

‘Seems like were back to being even.’ Jac rolled his shoulders nonchalantly, amused at Az’s stray reaction to his dust covered robes. 

‘No Im definitely up by one now.’ Az shot back, ‘I beat you also back when we were at that conference on Corellia.’ 

‘Beating me when I didn’t know we were dueling doesn’t count.’ Jac protested in thought.

“Tal’zayor, Lenn. Are you two paying any attention to what Im saying?” The sharp tone of the Battlemaster, punctured the private conversation between the two young knights. Az at least had the deference to look ashamed. 

“We were Master, I apologize on behalf of my friend here.” Azred quickly replied with a nod of defference.

‘Kiss-ass.’

‘Just an ass.’

Unaware of the boy’s private conversation, the older Jedi continued addressing the assembled padawans. “As I was saying, if we examine Knight Lenn’s form you can clearly see....” 

Yawn! Already, Jac tuned him back out, getting a small sense of shame for the act, not sure if it was from Azred, or simply Az’s influence on him. 

‘You really should be paying attention, he’s making some good points about your balance.’ Az scolded him mentally again.

‘Yes, master, of course master, I’ll do better next time master.’ If there weren’t other’s around, Jac would have flourished to complete his exaggeration. He felt Az hold back a laugh. 

‘You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry.’ Even as a thought, Jac picked up the amusement and affection in Az’s voice. About to protest, his stomach rumbled. Azred actually laughed. 

“Im sure Ive missed the joke,” The master turned towards the two of them, the picture of sternness and patience, a balance jac had never managed to find “Just what was so funny?”

“Sorry master, it was me.” Cutting off Az, Jac offered a deeper bow than Az had earlier. “It’s nothing you said, Im just... hungry.”

Jac couldn’t see, but he liked to imagine the old jedi rolled his eyes. “Fine fine.” Came the good-natured response, “Class is dismissed, lets all find something to eat before Jacoac here faints from lack of lunch.”With a murmur of chuckles at Jac’s expense, the cluster of padawans broke off, following the familiar path back to the temple. 

As the group left, Jac tried to elbow Az, missing mostly, but the point got across. ‘You're welcome.’ After so long, thought-sharing came with far more instinct than speaking aloud did.

A surge of affection and teasing rushed down the bond, wrapping around Jac as assuredly as if he’d stepped into a sunbeam and Az had embraced him simultaneously. What a pleasure it was to know they had each other. ‘Whatever would I do without your quick thinking?’ Az hummed absently, and in their privacy, dared an arm across Jac’s shoulder’s pulling the taller man close. ‘Im glad you're here.’ 

Jac left Az to imagine that, flushing with the warmth of the contact, ‘Glad to be so.’

[jedimasteramell]

omnia cum pretio

Theron Shan, Original Characters // Pre-Umbara // SFW

The life of a spy is never easy, the choices they make are never without their consequences, everything has its price.

For @uldren-sov‘s SW Elora. 

------------------

“So that’s that. You’re not going to talk me out of it?”

“I’m not.”

Theron exhaled the breath he felt like he’d been holding for weeks, a hard rush of air that tasted like guilt. Pacing in the small room, he picked at the seam of his glove before running the leather through his thrice disheveled hair. Habit forced Theron to find a measure of serenity; breathe and exhale. Alright. He tossed a frown his companions way, and searched his friend's expression for a tell of a lie. “Why?”

Cael crossed his knees, seated at Theron’s small couch; his fingers knit together before the hard line of his mouth. “Because I would do the same thing, and that's why you asked me. Not Jonas, not Lana, not Astra. Me.”

A line waving indecisively between a grimace and a thankful smile, cracked Theron’s expression. It was true. “You're probably right. Hell, even I might talk myself out of it.”

“You won’t.” Cael replied simply, even as his heart twisted in empathy for his friend. “You made your choice before you told me Theron… but can I give you some advice?” In the years now that they’d known each other, Cael could never recall seeing Theron this concerned. They’d done a lot, for SIS, for the Republic, for the Alliance, and in it, he speculated that only one person knew more about his vulnerabilities than Theron did.

That there was probably the actual reason Theron opted to tell Cael: he could read anyone, and very little got past him. If anyone were to unravel his secrets and throw a gravwrench into his plans, it would be Cael. It was almost a relief though, to have someone who could figure him out. Stars knew he couldn't understand himself sometimes. As for the advice… The strategist in him needed to be prepared, but the friend in him blanched at the memory of the harshness of the choices that Cael had, and continued, to live through. “Shoot.”

“Your relationship with El will never be the same, and you’ll need to come to terms with that.”

Cael’s words hit him with all the grace and delicateness of a frigate, blunted with the weight of personal experience. Elora… fuck… the thought of hurting her…. “I know…”

“You really don’t Theron.” Gaze having drifted somewhere to the near and distant past, Cael interrupted his fellow spy sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose, just above his scar. “You really don’t. This isn't to talk you out of it but…” The Jedi’s expression twisted with pain, a deep-seated guilt that would never leave him, no matter the years of dedication and love. “She’ll always know you’re a liar, that never goes away. Even if Elora understands how much the Alliance, this fight, how much it means to you….” Cael shook his head with a long sigh weighty with ill-won wisdom. “She’ll always know you chose not to trust her, not to include her, and no explanation of the greater good, of the need for the secrecy, no amount of apologies, will ever make up for the damage that does to a person.”

If the situation weren’t so grave, Cael might have found within himself an ironic laugh. He patted the couch next to him, if only so Theron wouldn’t wear a gully in the floor with his pacing.

Torn for a moment, preferring to pace, Shan obliged finally, flopping into the worn cushion with his head in his hands. El…. Spies weren't supposed to fall in love, weren't supposed to be emotionally compromised like this. After her father, after her masters, after everything they’d been through in the last six years… to hurt her so definitely, to add to every scar she already carried, even after quiet nights with soft kisses and darling promises, intimate vulnerability and affection-filled worship that brought them to the pale hours of the morning… Cael was right… he’d made his choice: to hurt her to save her, to hurt himself, to hurt them.

Theron tried to smile and failed, biting the corner of his mouth so hard as to draw blood to stave off the tears, his heart in his throat hammering nail by nail into his self-built coffin. “Bit of a mess aren’t I?” The self-deprecating barb tasted bitter, and not just from the iron on his tongue.

Cael’s shoulders sagged in empathy, his own partial smile far more convincing. “Pretty sure that’s a requirement for the SIS at this point.”

“Ex-SIS.” A choking bark of laughter squeezed out past the heart wedged in Theron’s throat. Don’t cry. “If the Director knew what kind of asses we made out of ourselves we’d have been out of a job years ago.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, you haven’t cried in years, not even after Jace. Don’t cry, don’t...

Not about to argue that, Cael put an arm around Theron’s shoulder, surprised when Theron dragged him into a despairing hug. “You're going to live Theron, you both will.” He murmured into the shadows beyond his friend, a steady hand a comfort on his shuddering back. “I won’t lie and say it’ll be just as it was, but if you two love each other as much as you seem too… you’ll get back there, eventually.” By Cael’s judgement, El wasn’t anywhere near as capricious as Astra was. They probably wouldn't take the seven years him and Astra had… probably.

“I love her so much.” Theron choked out, the confession muffled by Cael’s shoulder. His grip on his friend tightened. “I love her enough that Id die for her.”

“I know.” Cael assured, rubbing calming circles into Theron’s back in time with the other man’s inhale-exhale’s designed to force an even heartbeat; Cael recognized the jedi technique.  

At last Theron sat back, pulling away, his eyes red. Promptly, he covered them with a hand. “Thanks.”

Cael’s sad smile went unseen, and the understood ‘you’re welcome’, unspoken. “Is there anything you need me to do?” He asked quietly, already guessing at the answer.

“No, no, I’ve got to do this alone.” His tone rough from effort and emotion, Theron sighed, once, twice, and dropped his hand to his lap, foregoing the urge to return to fiddling with the seams along the glove. “Just... play along. Pretend we’re any kind of normal.”

As if either of them could ever hope to resemble anything close to normalcy. “When is going to happen?”

“A month, or less.” Voice thick and heavy with resignation, Theron replied. “Umbara. I’ve got everything in motion, I had to organize it, only way they’d believe me.” Don’t you dare cry again… “You’ll know…. Thanks.” He said again.

“You know I’m here for your Theron.”

Finally back to a modicum of self control, Theron raised his hazel eyes to Cael’s golden ones. “Yeah… I know… And it… it means a lot.” He squeezed his eyes shut, the resolve when he opened them almost enough to shroud the pain.

“You’ll be okay.” Cael pressed, mimicking the conviction he’d picked up from Balker.

But Theron didn’t care about himself, he cared about Elora being okay, being alone like she hadn’t in so long, not having him there when the nightmares came, or sleep failed to take her. He cared about El not falling into self-destruction, the rage she half-hated half-feared eating at her until she exploded. He cared about El eventually finding out the truth… and being hurt afresh because he hadn’t trusted her. Theron didn’t give a fuck about how this hurt him, what marks this already left on his messy worn soul, he cared about the woman he would go to the ends of the galaxy for, the woman that made his heart calm and stomach warm with every look, touch, and kiss. He cared about Elora Makiir, whom he’d give every second of every potential future too.

“Yeah... yeah… I’ll be okay.”

[jedimasteramell]

A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far Far Away…. (Part 1)

[jedimasteramell]

post somnia; veritas

Theron Shan, Original Characters // Post Umbara // SFW

After the dreams, all that’s left is truth.

Umbara really should have just been called ‘the sad train’. A short companion piece to omnia cum pretio, and a direct sequel to this fic.

Once more for @uldren-sov & their SW Elora whom I like to torture with angst.

------------------------

The low ping of his holo messages and the ticklish warning from his implants pulled Theron out of his (mostly) failed attempt to meditate. Immediately the sensation chased away all the disparate bits of collectedness he’d tried to hold on to, throwing off the calm blanket of meditation and back to the startling now. A now of low engine noise, the dazzlingly common show of lightspeed, and the ache in his heart.

Habit had him check the time. 48 standard minutes since he’d knelt. Could be worse.

Theron’s knees protested as he picked himself up off the lukewarm deck, muscles full of little pinpricks as the blood flowed unimpeded again. The flashing light of his holomail beat in time with his pulse. He shouldn’t expect but-

A furious skim through his messages and Theron dropped the breath he’d been holding. A dozen messages, Lana, Jonas, Lixell…. Nothing from El.

He didn’t know why that surprised him, he did know why it hurt.

In a long moment of vulnerability, he’d recorded her message across the holonet to him. In their years never had he seen her so defeated, so open, so… slowly falling into heartbreak, begging him to come home.

Home. Drawing a steadying breath, he shut his eyes and closed the holos. It wouldn't be like her to send a thousand desperate messages, to plead and beg for him to return, proclaiming her love and her paint. That one call was enough and more. She showed the galaxy just how much he meant to her. And his repayment was silence. It was both foolhardy and selfish to hope she’d contact him again.

Turning from the console, he debated sleep (restless) or meditation (sore knees) again, to fully prep for playing along with the Order. None of the options sounded at all fulfilling.

His holo pinged again, and his heart jumped into his throat in time with the noise. Temporarily distracted from making his choice between sleep and meditation, Theron’s pulse drummed against the inside of his skull and he hesitated just a moment over the inbox button. It wouldn’t be her….

Indeed it was not El. In flashing Aubresh an overwhelming piece of spam opened before him. ‘YOUVE BEEN PREAPPROVED FOR A NO-CREDIT DOWN PURCHASE OF A VACATION HOME ON EXOTIC MAKEB!’ glowed aggressively. Scowling as he swallowed the sour stone in his mouth, Theron almost deleted the message before he caught a series of typos in the first line… intentional typos. A long-since disused SIS cipher.

It didn’t take very long, and it provided a lovely little diversion for the time being, slowly but surely, a message unfolded. One from Cael.

‘Theron’ it began. ‘I’m going to hope you didn’t delete this and instead you figured it out. It took me a while to write this all out you know. Anyway, I wanted to remind you of a few things while you’re off playing cult member: the first is that I support you, and I’ll continue to support you. You’re one of my dearest friends and I know painfully well what this is like. The fogginess will subside, your concentration will come back, that anxious weight in your gut? Yeah that’s staying there. The second is an apology, I’ve broken in part my promise. Astra knows, not that I could hide anything from her anymore. She’s furious, but it’s out of worry for you more than a being left out of the loop. She’s coming around, and she understands what’s on the line. Lastly, I want you to know that we’re taking care of her.’ Theron noted with a painful flip of his stomach Cael hadn’t said her name. ‘The best we can… I’m not going to go over word for word, distract you from what you're doing, so don't ask me to, but we’re all here for her as I am for you.’

Though he knew it in his own best interest, Theron wished Cael had deigned to detail El’s state of mind. She was why he was doing this after all; to put a definitive foot down, to give her the peace she deserved, the galaxy that was finally worthy of the efforts she bled for. It felt like everything he’d done in part since they met on Manaan had been for her. He’d known she was full of will and absolutely stunning back then when she merely took his breath away, now she was that and so much more.

Tearing his thoughts from her, he went back to the hidden message. ‘If anything important arises, I’ll keep you posted, look out for more tantalizing adverts to lovely scenic planets! Anyway, take care Theron, we’ll be here when you get back, and so will she.’ Cael neglected to sign off, as was his precedent.

When he was sure there was nothing else hidden in the message, Theron clicked delete, staring for a long while at the now motionless comm. The unchanging module a mark to the end of his distractions.

Turning back to small cabin of his ship, a glance to the clock that counted down his hours until the next act, Theron pulled off his gloves and threw his jacket over the pilot's seat. A return to meditation eluded him, so sleep it would be. Settling on the edge of the cot, he kicked off his boots, a resigned thud on the steel of the ship floor, letting them stay where they landed. Sighing to the empty space and the stars that races by far overhead. Theron debated pulling up the records of El in his implant, going through all the reasons he had to succeed in his mind, but finally, forced himself to not wallow in what they had been and worry about what the would be.

Setting the frequency of his implant to hum at a barely-perceivable level, a white noise to drown out his thoughts, Theron willed himself to an uncomfortable sleep.

And he both hoped, and hoped he wouldn’t dream about her once more.  

[jedimasteramell]

Untitled; (or I Am a Ghost and My Body Lies In the Snow )

Original Characters // SWTOR, Post-Ilum // SFW

Sort of a companion to @uldren-sov‘s Expected 

Astra and Cael are goddamn disasters and dont feel bad for them cause honestly they did this to themselves.

————————-

Lucien gasped, the night winds of Ilum sharp as the ice they carried biting into every vulnerable spot in his armor, as his feet carried him further and further from the Imperial base.

And from her.

They never once suspected him, never once questioned his motives, his privacy, his false past. And why should they? Who would have ever in their wildest dreams would think the Emperor’s own chosen was supporting the Republic? If the frigid air didn’t try and steal his breath every chance he would have laughed. The Emperor was now 0 for 2 in that regard.

And for that the Emperor was almost banished, and for that the Republic retook Balmorra, Alderaan, and Corellia, and balanced Quesh, Voss, and Nar Shaddaa. For that, in the last 48 standard hours, five Dark Council members lay dead, an Imperial hero turned traitor and split the Empire. All possible because of Lucien. He’d gone above and beyond every possible expectation of his duty, and never once was suspected.

Well… Astra did.

Funny. For as long as he’d pretended to be Sith, victory did not seem to break his chains at all. Instead they clung heavy and left him hollow.

A misstep sent him sliding down the snowbound slope. He grunted in pain, the noise stolen immediately by the wind, leaving him breathless against the icy air that stung his lungs and turned his lips blue. His whole body ached, muscles tight, stomach rolling, but even as he stood, his fall wasn’t the source of the ache. It was his heart, fallen, shattered into a thousand pieces.

Jedi weren’t supposed to feel like this, weren’t supposed to form attachments because those became spirals of self destruction. Even as he succeeded in his commitment to the Republic, he failed in his vows as a knight. Astra. He loved her, even now when he didn’t deserve it, he still did. She was a fire and a focus and a whirlwind of galvanizing energy that had been leaving him breathless for nearly as long as he knew her. She was his first in many things, and he suspected would be his last as well. Somewhere he’d almost lost himself, and had nearly relinquished everything just to be with her. And that fall still haunted and utterly charmed him.

That guilt and fear remained his only companions as he pushed himself through the snow, footprints lost behind him. He could feel the cold buildup on the back of his hood, frost form in the wake of his breath in the beginnings of his beard. He wished he’d died to Malgus, or even to Astra, but still he moved forward: he would not die in the snow.

At last, he spotted the dome of a Republic watchpost, almost lost in the shapes of the landscape. It took all his final energy to make it to the door, fingers stubbornly protesting bending so he use his own emergency code to stumbled through. He dropped to his knees, all his willpower spent. He heard the readying clicks of five blasters and raised his head to the outpost captain, weapon drawn and standing above him.

“Youre name and how you got in here, now, or I put a blaster bolt through your brain.” The commander demanded.

Lucien held out a hand in pause, pushing back his hood, snowmelt dripping to the floor. “Cael Sorrin, Republic SIS.” He said, with his real name and his real accent, ones he hadn’t heard in ten years. “And I need to get to Coruscant.”

—-

“Agent Sorrin, did you hear me?”

Cael snapped from his reverie. Reality set in as Director Trant eyed him with concern.

“No Director.” Cael replied, dropping his head. “I apologize sir, please repeat.”

Trant shook his head slightly and moved back around to the datapad on his desk. Cael watched him briefly and then turned his attention to the other two men in the room. Standing by the window, seemingly relaxed but ever alert was his jedi master, aged and hardened beyond his years, Willu Sen, whom he for years had called Lord Praxis Felth, and ‘father’. To his left on the couch, Agent Theron Shan, a recent acquaintance but whose mission against the Empire had been helped with intel Cael himself provided. It was both well and not so well known that Theron was the Grandmaster’s son; sitting there with his serious expression and half-mouthed frown, he was certainly related to Satele.

“As I said.” Trant continued with the air of a man who had to many things to do and never enough time to do them. “If everything you’ve detailed in your report is accurate, the Empire stands no chance. Its just a shame you had to break from your cover.”

Cael, who’d been drifting again, bristled. His master must have felt it too because Willu turned and fixed Cael with a harsh stare of warning. The younger jedi forced himself to settle, and even out his tone. “Unfortunately Director, Malgus himself outed me and in the presence of a member of the Dark Council. My options were kill the council member, or stay and both opened me up to scrutiny I couldn’t afford.”

Trant seemed to accept that, even as he scrutinized his report further. “On the note of that council member, Darth… Imperius. You say this is the same Sith you worked with for years.” The director leveled Cael with hard look. “And she never suspected you? You never told her anything?”

Cael’s heart blanched at the memory of Astra. He had told her everything but, compromised himself countless times, but she never figured it out. He wish she had, he wished he could have explained, he wished he could have been honest.

He wished he didn’t still love her as much as he did.

“No sir. Imperius,” He couldn’t bring himself to say her name. “She never trusted me, and kept her distance.”

At last the Director relented satisfied. “You’ve done better than could have been reasonably expected to. We’ve cut into the Dark Council over and over again, the core worlds are securing their borders, and with knowing about the Empires plans for a stealth armada we can design the tech to counteract them, and retake your planet for the Jedi.” Trant and Willu exchanged nods. “If it were up to me Sorrin Id give you a damn medal.”

“Service is it’s own reward.” Cael answered robotically, as he was expected to. “There is no contemplation, only duty.”

The room fell into silence. Even with the warm sunlight filtering through the windows Cael felt cold. Everything seemed off, the traffic out the windows, his master’s presence, the grey robes he wore, his cropped hair, Astra not being with him to tease him for being so defeatist…

“What’s my next assignment sir?” Cael heard his mouth move, struggling to stay in the now.

“You have none.”

It wasn’t Trant who answered, but Master Willu. The old jedi had silently stepped across the room to be at Trant’s side. “I can feel the confusion and hurt in you. The sorrow. Youre going back to Tython.”

Cael almost stood to protest. His master didn’t understand, as stalwart and and emotionless as he was, what Cael had gone through over the last three and a half years. All he saw was the threat, not even the beginning of the dark side and wanted him to go shut it all out on the jedi homeworld. Unease shot through him. Maybe… maybe his master was right, that he would instinctively react like that… had he lost his sense of being a jedi living so long among the Sith. “I understand master.” He finally managed. Theron tossed him an apologetic glance.

“Good.” Trant responded, waving his hand for them to be dismissed. “Shan, I want your preliminary report on my desk tomorrow. Sen, go find me Kothe and Surro, we have a lot to discuss.”

As the door hissed close behind him, and Cael’s mind threatened to slip back into his memories, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Theron raised the brow opposite his implants. “Hey, look, even if he doesn’t say it, I’m sure the director respects what you did. It’s more than many of us ever could.”

The gesture of camaraderie summoned a small upturn to the corner of Cael’s mouth. “I appreciate it… but you’re going to have to work on really sounding sympathetic.”

“You caught me.” Theron slyly accepted the poke at him. “This is why I break into things and you actually play spy.” He shook Cael’s shoulder in a brotherly sort of way, the kind that Cael notes he must have learned to mimic from somewhere else. “Come on, before they ship you back to the Temple, Ive got some friends you should meet.”

Cael raised a brow, the little touch of banter lifting his spirit somewhat. “And who might they be?”

“Coping.” Theron said, and he was serious enough, this time Cael didn’t know if it was a joke or not. “Coping and alcohol.”

[jedimasteramell]

The Apprentice - The Wrath - The Zakuulan Knight - The Agent - The Jedi

Cael has many faces, and none of them are truly ever really his.