seen from United States
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seen from Netherlands
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from Venezuela
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genius idea for you and your ficlet ask game: Saville and Galen (and possibly Will) in a Star Wars AU??
BRILLIANT:
Agent Galen Verras was having a very long day.
First, he’d had to deal with Kallus this morning. And while he would honestly admit that Kallus was the closest thing he had to a friend in the ISB, he would also admit that his fanatic loyalty to the Empire could be a little…trying to deal with.
Particularly when one was a spy for the Rebellion.
He’d managed to extricate himself from that quickly enough, only to be drowned underneath paperwork from a supervisor. And then, finally, when he’d finished and was sure that he’d be able to do something good with his day, news had come in that there was a riot on one of the upper levels. Normally, that wouldn’t have any cause to concern Galen.
But this was the level where Lissa and Eldin lived. And no matter what he thought of their politics, they were family. He wasn’t about to let them be hurt, not if he could help.
So he grabbed his coat and took off before anyone could tell him not to.
The riot, as it turned out, was several blocks away from his cousins’ home. But when Galen got there, he could tell things were only a few steps away from turning nasty.
Pushing his way through the crowd, he finally located the eye of the storm—a girl dressed in worn, but neatly mended clothing, standing like a guardian over a boy. There was blood trickling down the side of the boy’s face, and Galen grimaced. This had better not be what I think it is. He’d heard far too many complaints about “riff raff” and “street rats” from the upper crust on Coruscant. The boy was cleaner than the average street kid, but the rich and privileged didn’t seem to register such details.
As he stepped past another person, part of the crowd surged forward and Galen knew, knew, that if he didn’t do something, things would turn ugly. Drawing his blaster, he stepped between the girl and the crowd.
“Back!” he shouted, and the crowd, unwilling, moved back a little. Galen spared a glance over his shoulder—the girl was kneeling next to the boy, tension obvious in her every movement.
She looked up at him, and their eyes met. Girl was probably the wrong word for it. She was only a few years younger than him. He read the fiery determination in her gaze, accompanied by fear and a flash of recognition. Do I know her?
The thought slipped away a minute later as one of the crowd shouted, “That boy’s a Jedi! Kill him!”
Galen’s blood ran cold. Even with just a cursory examination, he knew that this boy was far too young to be a fully trained Jedi. But if he was Force sensitive…. I need to get him out of here. Now.
An insistent hand on his arm caught his attention. “Will needs a doctor,” the girl said, her voice determined and ready for a fight. “Please.”
His immediate instinct was to agree, but he knew what he had to appear to do. “I need answers,” he told her, pulling a little bit of the ISB cold around him. “What exactly was the incident—”
Her glare burned right through any cold he managed to muster. “He’s not a Jedi. He’s just a boy. He fell, and people thought they saw him catch himself. That’s all.”
That’s all? Galen frowned, and saw a spark in her eyes, like she knew she’d said the wrong thing. “Do I—”
There was a roar from the crowd, and Galen knew they were whipping themselves into a frenzy. There was no time. Whether or not this boy was Force sensitive, he had to get them away from the crowd.
“Please,” the girl said again, like the word hurt to speak. “We have to get him help.”
Galen glanced at her again, hair short, jaw square and determined and suddenly he knew. He knew where he’d seen this girl before.
Years earlier, during his apprenticeship to Senator Cinnan. He’d been in the Jedi Temple, and met a young apprentice with fiercely beautiful eyes, who’d glared at him like he was scum of the earth.
That’s all.
Oh, kriff. The boy wasn’t the Jedi. She was.
“Trust me,” he told her, and saw her brow furrow. Then he turned to face the crowd. “Move aside!” he shouted. “I’m placing both of these two under arrest until we can clear everything up.”
He sensed her shock behind him, but knew he couldn’t stop now. He had to get them somewhere safe, otherwise it would all be for nothing. From there they could contact the Path, get them off Coruscant. And, if Galen was being honest, he had a lot of questions about how a Jedi survived on Coruscant of all places.
“Head down,” he told her quietly. “And for pity’s sake don’t let anyone see your face.” They’d get out of this, one way or another.
My first Februfluff fic for @monthly-challenge! For the prompt "sharing food" I FINALLY finished a Valiant fic. It's three chapters long over on AO3 (and technically the food sharing doesn't happen until the last chapter, but it's close enough) but they're pretty short, and you can also read the full thing under the cut!
Read on AO3
1.
The police were already there when he pulled into the Reggen family estate’s driveway. Technically, Federal Marshalls weren’t first responders, but Galen had been called anyway. It was his family who lived here, after all— and his CI who was involved in the incident, allegedly.
As he strode towards the front door, flashing his badge to the cop who moved to stop him, Galen could already hear Eldin shouting. “This is unacceptable— I am not allowing some deceptive criminal to stay in my house and endanger our family!”
There was a response in a lower voice— Lissa, Galen guessed— and Eldin let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Not her fault? Oh, no, how could it be? She only CHALLENGED AN ENTIRE GANG!”
Galen located the source of the noise— the study, which he still thought of as Torren’s even after he’d been gone for a few years now— and pushed the door open. Eldin was standing behind the desk, face flushed red with frustration, and Lissa stood before him, her face set impassively. They both looked up at his arrival.
“About time,” Eldin snapped, glaring at him. “Our home is under assault, and it’s your little criminal’s fault, Verras.”
It took a bit of a struggle to keep his face impassive, avoiding the grimace he felt. Eldin was far from his most reasonable at the moment, and this situation was going to be hard to deal with. “I heard there was an incident,” Galen said, his voice steady.
“Someone drove by and threw a brick through the window,” Lissa said. Her voice was far less hysterical than Eldin’s, but still a little unsteady as she continued, “The brick has the Duke’s symbol on it.”
“Which means it’s a message,” Eldin said, folding his arms and scowling. “And that message says that we’re being endangered by that Gramton girl and her brat.”
Don’t lash out. Stay calm, you know it won’t help. “Saville is in danger, too,” Galen said, keeping his voice low and reasonable. “You can’t just throw her out into the street, there’s too much at stake here. She’s our best weapon against them—”
“She’s a liability, and I want her GONE!”
“Eldin—”
Jabbing a finger at him, Eldin said, “Don’t you DARE try and convince us, Marshal Verras. She’s leaving TONIGHT and that’s final.”
“If you throw her out, someone could come after her—”
“I don’t care, so long as it doesn’t happen in our house! We are the victims here, you realize!”
Galen loved his cousin, he truly did. But there were times when he almost wanted to take him by the shoulders and shout at him. Didn’t he see that Saville was in danger of far more than bricks through the window?
But she had yet to flinch, even after facing down gang leaders and his cousins and the AUSA, Leymonn. She’d been terrified, Galen could see that much. But despite all of it, she’d stood strong and fierce, protecting Will and herself.
He admired it. Maybe more so than he should have.
“Well?” Eldin’s sharp tone cut through Galen’s thoughts. “Are you going to do something about her? Or should I call Leymonn, see what he thinks we should do with her?”
No. If Leymonn got involved, Saville would wind up on the streets, or worse. Galen glanced at Lissa, hoping to find an ally there. But her gaze was lowered. Which means it’s up to me.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ll handle it. Where is she?”
2.
I could hear the shouting from all the way upstairs, in the small room I’d been given when Marshal Verras brought Will and I to the Reggen’s home. Pressing my lips together, I tried hard not to scowl, to push down the fury I felt twisting in my chest.
It wasn’t as if I’d ever been a particularly welcome guest here. Eldin had treated me with uneasy dislike, and his attorney friend Leymonn with open disdain. Lissa had, after a little while, become more civil with me, but we were far from becoming best friends. The brick through the window had been the last straw, and Eldin had demanded Will and I leave before the police had even arrived.
So here I was. Shoving clothes into the ancient suitcase I’d carried with me when we had left. Trying not to think about everything at once— where we would go, what would happen next, how soon the Duke’s men would catch up with us.
“Sir?”
My eyes moved up to where Will was sitting on the bed. He’d been given his own room, but snuck into my room to curl up with a few blankets on the rug next to it almost every night. He’d been sleeping there when we’d both been jolted awake by screeching tires, shattering glass, and the sound of Eldin shouting.
He’d stayed upstairs while I went down to deal with the situation, but I knew he’d had to hear the yelling. And with me packing, he knew what was going on.
“Where are we going to go?” he whispered.
It was a good question. A question I wished I could answer properly, or at the very least, protect him from. But Will was far too smart for me to lie to. “We can’t go back to the shop,” I told him. “It’s being watched, by the Duke’s men and by the marshals. I have a little money, so we might be able to afford a hotel room.”
I hoped, at least. If there wasn’t enough, we might find ourselves sleeping on a park bench, and I had a very hard time believing the Duke would let us last the night somewhere so vulnerable. If only I could keep him safe. If only I could keep both of us safe. If only I didn’t have to. Sky above, it was getting hard to stand up to everything coming my way.
There was a small part of me, a part that I could never entertain for long, that wished someone else could be strong for me. That someone would come along and protect us. But I knew better. I would have to protect both myself and Will, whatever it took.
“Go get your things,” I told him quietly.
Will got to his feet, looking a little less nervous than he had before. But I knew him well enough to see that he was still scared. And, if I was being honest, I was too.
Enough of that, I told myself. Now’s not the time for honesty, if it makes things worse. Now is the time to grit your teeth and get it done, because no one is going to do it for you.
As Will slipped out of my room, I caught the sound of a familiar baritone downstairs, cutting through Eldin’s yelling. It was too low for me to make out the words, but I knew who it was. Marshal Verras had arrived on the scene. Which meant he was probably going to try and convince Will and I to stay, and I’d have none of that.
We may have been protected from the Duke and his men here, but we weren’t safe. Not really, with Leymonn skulking in and out all week, making sly comments about Will and trying to leverage me into agreeing to things.
Eldin and Lissa may have been hard to deal with, but Leymonn was far worse. He didn’t scare me— his power did, and what he might do with it.
So I was leaving, and so was Will, and that was that. Gathering myself, I collected the last of my things in the room— a jacket hanging over the end of the bedstead. The puzzle box that Marshal Verras had given Will to play with. The shirt of Will’s I’d been mending, which I tucked into her suitcase— and headed for the door.
Will was waiting for me outside my door, his backpack over one shoulder. Together, we headed for the door for the stairs that led down to the main level. I clutched her suitcase in one hand, slipping my jacket around my shoulders.
I pulled open the door, and came face to face with Marshal Verras.
He looked only mildly surprised to see Will and I. His gaze moved from me to the suitcase in my hand to Will, then back to me.
Lifting my chin, I said, “We’re not staying here.”
To my surprise, he nodded. “No, you’re not. You and Will are coming with me.”
I only hesitated a minute before following him, down the stairs and into the main hall. There were a handful of police there, some of them interviewing Eldin and Lissa. Several of them looked up as the three of us entered.
“My car is out front,” Marshal Verras told me quietly, passing me the keys. “Go wait for me there, alright?” A smile twitched across his face, and he added, “Try not to take off without me.”
I found myself almost smiling in response, remembering the day I’d tried to escape the Reggen’s house by breaking into his car. I’d almost made it, but he’d been there, and convinced me to stay, that it would be safer for Will and I. I’d been frustrated at the time, but had known, as I did now, that he was looking out for us. “I won’t,” I said.
Will and I slipped out the door just as Eldin started demanding to know what was going on. I could hear arguing erupt as we headed to Marshal Verras’s car, but I didn’t look back. Instead, I unlocked it, slipped into the backseat with Will, and waited.
He came out of the house roughly ten minutes later, looking tired, with a slightly grim set to his mouth. But when he opened his door and dropped into the driver’s seat, he glanced back at the two of us and quietly said, “I’ll bring you somewhere safe for the night. We can talk about everything else tomorrow.”
“Alright,” I said. There were a thousand different questions bouncing around her head. But I was so tired, and so was Will— he was already nodding off against my shoulder. So I kept my questions inside for now, and passed Marshal Verras his car keys.
The car drive passed in a blur of back roads and headlights. I found myself nearly nodding off on a few occasions, and by the time we pulled up to a large house, I could scarcely keep my eyes open.
Rubbing at them viciously, I turned to Will, only to find him fast asleep. Wincing, I moved to wake him up, but Marshal Verras held up a hand, stopping me.
“I’ve got him,” he whispered, passing me his keys again. “You get the door.”
Dimly, I knew there was something that a far less tired version of me should be connecting about all this, but at the moment, all I cared about was finding a bed. The Duke himself could show up and I would ignore him in favor of curling up under some blankets.
So I took the keys and made my way to the front door. Marshal Verras followed after unbuckling Will, then picking him up, carefully resting his head against his shoulder.
He was so gentle with him, so cautiously unlike his usual stern, grave exterior. It caught at me, making my heart stutter, just a little. Hastily, I turned my gaze to the door.
It took me a few minutes to find the right key, but when I finally did the door swung open to a dark house. Marshal Verras took the lead, heading for a nearby flight of stairs, and I followed him to a set of doors.
Fumbling for a moment, he managed to push the door open, revealing a bedroom. Two beds took up most of the space, with a table between them and a dresser on the far side near the window. After carefully lowering Will onto one of the beds, Marshal Verras turned to me. “I assumed you would want to share, so that Will didn’t get confused,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Yes— thank you,” I said, wishing I could put my gratitude in my voice properly. We were safe and together and far away from both the Duke and the Reggen’s. Nothing I could say would really cover all that I felt.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Get some rest, Saville. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
The door shut behind him with a quiet click, and I found myself alone, swaying on my feet. Pausing only to pull a blanket over Will, I moved to the other bed and collapsed, my eyes flickering shut almost immediately.
My sleep was deep and peaceful, without any real dreams. I wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before I jolted awake, disoriented. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. And the events of the night before began to piece themselves together in my head.
Sitting up, I held back a yawn as I took a better look at the room. The sunlight streaming in through the window and lighting up the pale blue walls told me that it was late, but not too late. Will was still curled up under his blanket, breathing steadily.
Seeing him peaceful and calm eased a tension I hadn’t even fully realized I was carrying around. I wished, not for the first time, that I hadn’t dragged him into all of this. That Will could be safe.
He’s safe here, now, I reminded myself. He’s away from Leymonn, and the longer that lasts, the better.
Although that did bring up the question of where here was. Even as I thought it, however, I was fairly certain I knew. We were at Marshal Verras’s house. It was the only place he could have conceivably brought us under such short notice.
It shouldn’t have been strange— but it was, a little. More than just strange, though, it meant he’d found yet another way to help me, to protect both of us. I owed this man more than I’d ever be able to pay back.
There has to be something I can do for him, though. To thank him, even in a small way. I thought for a minute, then got up from my bed.
Stopping next to Will’s bed, I knelt down beside him, brushing his hair back from his eyes gently. His eyes flickered open, and he whispered sleepily, “Sir? Are we safe?”
“We are,” I told him, my heart aching a little. “I’m going to go downstairs to make some breakfast. I won’t be far, okay?”
“‘Kay,” Will mumbled, his eyes already drifting shut again. I watched him for another moment, then rose to head downstairs.
It became apparent the minute I left my room that this wasn’t exactly a small house. It was far from the mansion-like quality of the Reggen’s house— which made sense. Their family had founded this town, after all— but it was far larger than me and my family had ever owned.
It was certainly fancy, but understated enough that I didn’t feel overwhelmed. It felt more natural and lived in than Eldin and Lissa’s— stacks of books on side tables, newspapers and files here and there, along with a few empty cups.
It took me a few minutes to locate the kitchen. It was large, but painted in warm shades of yellow and orange that didn’t seem to match Marshal Verras at all. As I rummaged through a few cupboards, I wondered if someone else lived here, or if it was just him. He hadn’t mentioned much about his family, other than the fact that Eldin and Lissa were his cousins, and I hadn’t noticed a ring. Did he have a girlfriend?
Was it strange that I hoped he didn’t?
I pushed away the thought firmly, and returned to searching for the ingredients I needed. I was a decent cook, when I needed to be, and one of the recipes I knew I’d mastered was pancakes. The very least I could do, at this point, was make breakfast for Marshal Verras.
It was such a little thing, and he’d done so much more to protect Will and I. He’d wrangled Eldin and Lissa, convincing them to let us stay because we would be safe there. He’d figured out the paperwork to keep them from taking Will back into the system, he’d faced off with Leymonn more times than I could count. This was very literally the least I could do.
I did her best to be quiet as I assembled my ingredients and pulled out a frying pan, knowing that Will— and probably our host— was still sleeping. But something, be it the clattering of the bowls or pans, or the sound of me moving around, must have disturbed him, because he appeared just as I was pouring the batter onto the pan, carrying his handgun. He lowered it the minute he saw me.
“Saville?” he blinked at me, looking disoriented. This was the first time I’d seen him not totally put together, I realized. His tie and jacket were gone, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was sticking every which way. It was almost endearing, and I had to hold back a smile.
His gaze traveled from me, to the frying pan and the bowl of batter next to it, and back to me. “What are you doing?”
“Making us breakfast, of course,” I said.
3.
Galen didn’t think of himself as a man who was often caught off guard. But when he woke up and found Saville Gramton making pancakes in his kitchen, that surprised him.
“Breakfast?” he said slowly, eyebrows traveling upwards.
Saville nodded. “Yes. Breakfast. I assume you’re familiar with the concept.”
Letting out a snort of amusement, Galen slid his weapon back into the holster strapped to his chest, switching the safety back on as he did so. “I am,” he said, “but that doesn’t explain— how did you find everything?”
“I looked,” Saville told him, pouring out another measuring cup full of pancake batter. It hit the pan with a satisfying sizzle, the smell of cooking pancakes rising through the air. “Your kitchen is a lot better organized than your office.”
“I don’t use it as much,” Galen said. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?”
“I’ve got it,” she said, directing a frown at him as he started to open his mouth to tell her that he didn’t mind, that she should get some rest, that the idea of cooking for her was actually very appealing. (Well. He probably wasn’t going to add the last part, true though it was.) “If you want, you can make some coffee.”
Coffee sounded like an excellent idea, and Galen moved over to the coffee pot to get started. As he filled the filter with coffee grounds, he glanced at her again. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“It was the least I could do,” she said, flipping one of the pancakes. “And someone had to do it.”
“I would have.”
“I know. But…” she paused before glancing up at him with one of her direct, honest looks. “You’ve done so much. For Will and I. This is one small thing I can do to repay you.”
“Oh.” Galen felt himself flush a little, which shouldn’t be surprising. She’d turned out to have that effect on him, with her unabashed stubbornness and honesty— and he was pretty sure she enjoyed it. “Thank you. It’s not necessary, but thank you. I’m just doing my job.”
“In that case, I take it back.” A half-smirk crossed her face briefly, and she added, “In fact, I’m sorry. I’ll throw your serving out now, then.”
“I accept your apology,” Galen said, and she looked up at him, so startled that he couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. And for just a moment, her smile matched his.
But then she glanced back down hastily, and the moment was gone. “I need some plates.”
“Right,” Galen said, a thread of remorse pulling at his heart, though he couldn’t say why. Just that it had been nice to have a moment, just the two of them laughing at an inside joke. That it was nice to be able to smile and see her smile, in the face of such things as they were dealing with.
Turning, he opened one of the nearby cupboards and started pulling out plates. He’d barely gotten them to the counter when there was a clatter and a cry of pain.
“Saville!” Galen spun around, concern flashing through his chest at the sight of Saville wincing, her hand cradled against her chest. The spatula she’d been using lay on the stovetop.
Crossing the room, he said, “Are you alright? Let me see.”
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice tight as she waved him off. “My hand slipped— it’s just a burn.”
“At least let me take care of these while you run it under cold water,” Galen told her. She gave a quick nod, crossing the room to the sink.
As she turned on the tap, Galen picked up the spatula and turned his attention to the pancakes. Flipping one, he slid the other two onto the plate he’d set nearby, and grabbed the cup, using it to pour more batter onto the pan.
He kept his gaze focused on his task, but he could hear Saville moving near the sink, and a few seconds later the tap shut off. Her voice came a second later. “I can take over now, Marshal Verras.”
“I’ve got it handled,” Galen told her firmly. He could sense her hovering nearby for a heartbeat, and glanced her way. “I do. Sit down— how’s your hand?”
“It doesn’t really hurt anymore,” she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “And I don’t mind taking over.”
“I know,” Galen said, deftly flipping another pancake onto a plate. “But I don’t mind either. And I think you should call me Galen. It doesn’t seem right to go around Marshal-ing someone you’re making pancakes with.”
It took a heartbeat before she met his gaze, but she lifted an eyebrow nonetheless. “Marshal-ing?”
“It’s an official term, I’m sure,” he said, smiling. Hoping she’d listen to him. It made sense— they’d known each other long enough, worked together on this case long enough.
And truth be told, he wanted to hear her say his name. Few enough people used his first name, and he knew there would be something special about her saying it, just by the virtue of it being Saville.
“Here,” he said, sliding her a plate with two of the pancakes stacked on it. “Eat.”
Accepting the plate and the fork he handed her a few seconds afterwards, Saville offered him a smile. “Thank you, Marshal Ver— Galen. Thank you, Galen.”
“You’re welcome, Saville.”
They settled into a comfortable silence, Galen stacking pancakes on one of the bigger plates he’d taken down. Saville got up a few minutes later and poured both of them a cup of coffee, adding a single dash of milk to his cup— exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t known she’d noticed, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.
Galen was just adding the final pancake to the now somewhat precarious stack when Will appeared in the kitchen doorway. Yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he surveyed the scene before him. “Is there breakfast?” he asked.
“Right here,” Galen said, offering him a plate with a few pancakes on it. The boy accepted it immediately and took the seat next to Saville.
As he drowned the pancakes in syrup, Saville handed him the fork Galen passed her. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, smoothing down where his hair was sticking up in the back.
“Yeah— thanks for the pancakes, Mr. Verras,” Will said, cutting them into pieces.
“You’re welcome, Will,” Galen said, switching off the stove. Taking another sip of his coffee, he grabbed another plate, and claimed a seat next to Saville.
As she passed him the maple syrup, Will said, “This is a fancy house— whose is it?”
“Mine,” Galen said, covering his pancakes with syrup. “Or, my family’s, really. I grew up here, but when my father retired, he and my mother moved south and left the house to my siblings and I. My brothers had already moved on, so I was the only one who could get much use out of it.”
“It seems a big house to live in all alone,” Saville said, her gaze moving from him to the rest of the kitchen, taking it in in a thoughtful look. He wondered what she saw. So often, she seemed to see things he didn’t, stitch together tiny details that he almost wouldn’t have noticed.
That was why he’d told Leymonn he saw better when he was with her. And it was the truth.
“It is,” he admitted wryly, cutting into his breakfast. The pancakes were just as good as he’d expected, and he took a minute to savor the bite he’d taken before he spoke again. “I feel a little foolish sometimes, living here. But I don’t have to pay any rent, and it’s… it’s home, in a way. I don’t know that I could bring myself to leave. Not until I’m ready, at any rate.”
He saw something like understanding in Saville’s eyes, but before she or Will could speak, the sound of a phone ringing split the air. His phone, Galen realized.
“Excuse me,” he said, rising to his feet and heading out of the kitchen.
He’d left his jacket draped over the back of his chair, and his phone in the pocket. Fishing it out, Galen flipped it open and answered it. “Verras.”
“Good, you’re awake.” Galen recognized the voice on the other end immediately— Anders, another marshal in his department. They weren’t close, but they shared a mutual dislike for Leymonn. “Your cousin showed up and told Leymonn what happened last night, and they’re in rare form. Leymonn’s trying to get in contact with a judge. I don’t know what he’s got up his sleeve, but—”
“But it’s a bad sign,” Galen finished, grimacing. “Thank you, Anders. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Snapping the phone shut, he headed back into the kitchen. Saville and Will looked up at his entrance, and he could see the wariness in Saville’s eyes. “Is something—”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he told her. “But… Leymonn found out about what happened last night. So I need to get into work now, head off anything that he’s planning.”
“Do you need us to come with you?” she asked, already getting to her feet. But Galen shook his head.
“Stay here for now— I’ll be back or call in a few hours. Feel free to make yourself at home— there’s a library a few doors down from my office, and keys to any of the other doors in the house in my desk drawer.” Catching Saville’s gaze, he added, “But please, stay here.”
Saville nodded. “Okay. But call us soon.”
“I will.”
It didn’t take long for Galen to get ready. Throwing on his jacket, he grabbed his car keys and was heading out the door when he stopped. Just for a moment, lingering outside of the kitchen door.
Saville and Will were still sitting there— Will eating and talking, Saville quietly sliding him a napkin as she listened. Her gaze moved to where Galen stood for a minute, and she sent him a smile.
Somehow, that smile sent a little flash of energy through him. He knew the rest of the day was going to be long and tiring, and that battling Leymonn would take up half of it. But that smile helped, more than it should have.
For a minute, he wished he could stay with them. But that was dangerously close to wishing for something that he wasn’t at liberty to want. Not now, not with a woman who was part of a case he was in charge of.
Focus up, Verras, he told himself. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.
He gave himself one last backward glance, then left the house.
UM OKAY JUST SO YOU KNOW "HOME" BY PHILLIP PHILLIPS WAS WRITTEN ABOUT WILL AND SAVILLE THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT
Galen and Saville modern au!
This was actually INCREDIBLY fun to write and also INCREDIBLY LONG so here you go! And here it is on AO3
(tw for a little gore/mentions of death)
@lucilliantpearl @magpie-trove I really really hope you guys don't mind if I tag you guys-- since you're the only people I know who love Valiant, I figured why not? Feel free to ignore this, though!
Galen Verras had worked a lot of strange cases in his time working as a US Marshall. Mysterious deaths and kidnappings and every kind of horror imaginable.
But this one was particularly confusing to his superior officers. The gang that had been tormenting the city of Reggen for the past few months— known, rather unoriginally, as the Giants, thanks to the massive size of most of their recruits— had held up another store. Every time this had happened previously, there had been a shooting and at least one death, if not more. Galen had lost count of the amount of crime scenes he’d arrived at to find a dead body and the same symbol carved into the victim’s skin— a crown made of bones.
But this time was different. Galen had reviewed the security footage a hundred times, and it hadn’t made any more sense any of the times. Even now, as he replayed in his head while he drove, it confused him.
The shop itself had been small, and the security cameras hadn’t worked. So the only footage they had was from a camera outside. Over and over, Galen had watched the same thing— the two recruits, both carrying weapons, went inside. Through the windows, a struggle could barely be made out, until another person entered the shop.
Not ten minutes later, the customers inside came streaming out, along with the boy who’d been hurt in the struggle. Paramedics had arrived on the scene, as had Galen himself about half an hour later. There was no sign of the two recruits, no injuries other than the boy, and no money missing from the shop.
All the witnesses gave their statements, and they all led one way— the young woman who’d come into the shop. According to the witnesses, she had distracted them from their target, scaring off the recruits somehow.
Galen had seen this gang operate before. Some girl was not likely to scare them off.
So what exactly had happened?
This was what he was on his way to find out, taking his slightly shabby car into the clothing district in Reggen to find one Saville Gramton, who was supposed to be the young woman who’d scared off the gang members. Supposedly, she lived with her father above his sewing shop.
He spotted the sign saying “Tailor”, hanging proudly from the storefront, and pulled off to the side of the road to park. As he got out of the car, he took a moment to prepare himself, mentally. If this woman really had somehow terrified two gang members, then Galen needed to be ready. Either way, there was some piece of the puzzle he was missing. The only question was what it was.
Crossing the street, he moved to the small door and knocked. It was a long minute before the door swung open.
“We’re clos—”
The woman who answered it froze, her eyes locking onto Galen’s for just a moment. I know her, he realized. Somehow, I know her. But the memory refused to emerge from the depths of his brain, and he decided to keep moving despite it.
“Miss Gramton? I’m Federal Marshal Galen Verras,” he told her calmly, tapping a hand against the badge clipped to his belt. Her gaze flicked to it, then narrowed very slightly.
He’d seen that look before, on a hundred different witnesses or criminals who were preparing to lie, to protect themselves in whatever way necessary— and he meant whatever.
Generally speaking, those witnesses weren’t girls who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, though. Saying the woman was slight was an understatement, and Galen had to wonder for the thousandth time how she’d managed to fight off two members of the most vicious gang in the city.
“Can I help you?” she said warily.
“Hopefully, yes,” Galen told her. “I’m here about a robbery that happened a few streets down from her, in Tomas Mardon’s bakery. Do you know it?”
“A little,” she said vaguely. “I go there every now and then.”
Lie. An interview with Tomas had confirmed that Miss Gramton was a frequent visitor, although Galen had gotten the feeling the man wasn’t telling them everything, either. “I see,” he said. “And were you there yesterday afternoon, around three?”
She hesitated, and Galen could see the debate going on in her eyes. He found himself wondering what he would do, too. Would he let the lie keep going, or would he push harder?
“Sir? Who’s at the door?”
Miss Gramton’s eyes widened as a boy hobbled around the corner, using a crutch to hold himself upright. Galen knew this boy, and he even knew where from. Flipping through his memory, he said, “Will, right? It’s Marshal Verras, from the bakery yesterday. I was there after you were hurt.”
The boy paused, glancing at Miss Gramton, and Galen did the same. Her eyes said she was trapped, and they both knew it. Calmly, Galen said, “Why don’t you let me in, and we’ll talk about this?”
Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “Fine.”
Stepping back, Miss Gramton led the way into the shop— which was small, but the tables covered in fabric and a box containing thread, needles, and shears spoke of enough customers to live comfortably enough— and into a back room that held a table and a few chairs. There was a small stove in the corner, near a small refrigerator and a few cupboards.
Miss Gramton took her seat, nodding for Galen to do the same. Will sat next to her, looking back and forth between them like he was waiting for his companion to lunge for Galen’s throat. Which, judging by her glare, wasn’t entirely possible.
There was a short silence, and Galen took the opportunity to study Saville Gramton. She was small, but had a steely sort of strength about her, although that could have just been her scowl. Her short-cropped hair was fair, her jaw square, and her eyes a blue-gray that held Galen’s defiantly.
There was something distinctly captivating about them, too, as she studied him right back, but that was hardly relevant at the time.
Folding his hands on top of the table, he said, “It was you at the bakery yesterday, then? Wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
Galen frowned. “And yet, you chose not to remain with the witnesses. You ran off, instead of staying to be interviewed. Technically, I could charge you with obstruction of justice.”
“Are you going to?”
Not a hint of fear in her voice, although Galen knew she had to be concerned. He couldn’t help but admire it, even though he knew it would make things harder. Letting out a sigh, he said, “I would like it if I didn’t have to. But for that to happen, I need your side of the story.” His gaze flicking to Will, he added, “And more of an explanation here as to what exactly is going on here. But let’s start with the robbery, and what happened to those gang members. Did you kill them?”
Miss Gramton’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out an incredulous laugh. “You think I killed two gang members twice my size?”
Galen couldn’t hold back the slightest twitch of a smile. “Not exactly, but it couldn’t be ruled out.”
He was fairly certain rolling one’s eyes at a Federal Marshal was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop her. “I didn’t kill them. They left. Not dead, gone. I needed to chase them off, so I did. That’s all.”
And there was something so familiar about that intonation that Galen was absolutely positive that he knew her. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. He was about to ask if he knew her when Will piped up.
“Are you going to arrest Sir?”
Galen blinked, confused. “Who?”
Nodding at Miss Gramton, Will said, “That’s what I call her. So… are you?”
“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to,” Galen said steadily. “But first I’m going to need to ask her some questions. That should help the situation.” He turned his gaze to Miss Gramton. “So. What can you tell me? Start from the beginning, if you can.”
After a brief hesitation, she started speaking. Galen listened intently as she told him how her father had suffered a terrible injury, and was currently in the hospital on life support. How she’d been forced to keep the family business going on her own, keeping up the pretense that it was her father doing the work so she could keep the customers he’d garnered with his reputation, and find a few of her own with her work.
She hadn’t meant to throw things into such disarray by picking a fight with the gang. All Saville had been trying to do was protect Will. And in doing so, she’d tricked two men working for the most dangerous man in the city.
It didn’t take a genius to guess how he’d respond to this. The Duke— the leader of the gang— would be offended, at best. At worst, he would be out for blood. The best thing to do would be to take both Will and Miss Gramton into protective custody, Galen knew.
But there was the complication of Will’s legal situation— he was in a group home, Saville had told him, and came here to get away from time to time— and the fact that Galen wasn’t sure he could trust everyone around him. With Cinnan being put on administrative leave indefinitely, and Leymonn in his place, he didn’t have anyone to consult about the legality of the situation, and he wasn’t sure Leymonn wouldn’t use it against him somehow.
He was alone. Sure, he had allies, but Galen missed the days when he had someone with him who he trusted to watch his back, who helped him be better and work better.
It had been a long time since those days. Long enough that Galen was used to being on his own. But that didn’t mean he liked it.
“What’s going to happen next?”
Miss Gramton’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced at her. She was still wearing that fierce expression, like she was ready to do battle. But even she couldn’t take on an entire gang on her own.
“You’ve upset some powerful people, Miss Gramton,” he told her. “So I’d like to put both you and Will in protective custody. I have… a friend you can stay with.” Lissa wouldn’t like it, and Eldin would be Eldin about it. But they were the closest thing to people he could trust that he had left.
“I can’t just leave,” she protested. “This is my life. And if I leave, I won’t be able to pay our debts. The landlord—”
“I’ll handle your landlord,” Galen said firmly. “For now, we get you to safety. Both of you. Then we handle the next steps.”
She didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes distrustful and worried. “I know you don’t trust me,” Galen told her. For whatever reason, it felt right to be honest with her, like her blue-gray eyes would see through whatever comforting lies he offered her. “And I can’t blame you. But I can promise to do everything in my power to keep you two safe, and to bring the men who hurt Will to justice.”
The last part settled it. He could see it in her face, in the resolved set of her jaw. “Alright,” she said. “Tell me what we need to do.”
Galen nodded, mentally gathering himself for the battle with Leymonn and his other superiors ahead. It would be hard— it always was— but the glance he took at Saville gave him a strange sense of comfort. Her glare was battle-ready, and he realized he might have another ally in this fight after all.
She couldn’t do much, he knew. But it was comforting all the same.
