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Jyn wasn’t the person to ask for help easily. (She learned the hard way that waiting for anyone to help her would only bring her pain and disappointment – waiting for her father to come back to her in the cave; waiting for Saw to rescue her; and later, waiting for anyone to return to her. She never had a reason to unlearn that particular lesson.) But now, getting no help meant either staying on the ship and explain to Cassian why she couldn’t go on this pretty easy reconnaissance mission – or it meant going only half-dressed.
Neither was an option. And it was no big deal, really, to ask Cassian for help. Of course, he didn’t mind, didn’t question her, didn’t laugh at her (only a little smirk that vanished instantly when he saw what she was up against) – he never did.
And with the rest of Rogue One left at base this time, it was just the two of them on their way to Coruscant. Which left no one else to assist her in this anyway.
“Would you… mind?” She leaned her head to the side a little and gestured towards her back. Cautiously he stepped into her cabin and behind her and she turned away from him, her bare back now towards him. He sucked in a breath, seeing her like this. This one tiny, unconscious gesture – turning her back towards her, unarmed and unguarded – signaling a trust that, had Cassian allowed himself to think about it for a minute, would have overwhelmed him right then and there. She watched him quietly through the mirror as his hands came up to pull at the low-hanging zipper. It was so quick and easy when he did it, Jyn felt slightly embarrassed that, even with all her training and combat experience, she could tackle a stormtrooper to the ground without breaking a sweat but let herself be defeated by this silly, unthreatening dress.
Her breath hitched when she felt Cassian’s hands roam her back, lingering there for just a moment longer after he’d zipped and buttoned up her dress. She could feel his warmth sipping through the thin fabric. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror before she straightened herself and Cassian stepped away, bringing their usual and comfortable distance between them.
“I’ll check the comms again until you’re ready,” he said quietly and disappeared through the door, flexing his hands at his sides as if burned.
She didn’t need long after the dress was taken care of, putting on shoes that, although prettier and more delicate than she would have ever chosen for herself, were still functional and solid enough to run and fight in would the situation call for it.
With a last glance in the mirror she fixed the little hairpins in her neat bun and followed to where Cassian had left a few minutes earlier.
He was waiting in the main hold of their ship, already finished dressing and with setting up their gear. (They didn’t need much, but he was always prepared for all possible occasions and scenarios.)
It was a little distracting, seeing him outside of his standard clothes – usually all subdued and quiet colors, blending in with all the other people on base.
She always knew that Cassian cleaned up nicely, had seen him putting on more formal wear on different occasions, but never like this. His black suit was a tight fit, his shirt – tailored to compliment his lean body perfectly – starkly white and already neatly buttoned up where he currently tied the also black tie.
In this attire or any other, nothing changed the fact that he was still the most beautiful men Jyn had ever known. It both amazed and puzzled her how anyone with his face could be deemed unremarkable enough to disappear behind someone else’s name, someone else’s identity, someone else’s face. On the other hand, she would see his face go blank – the corners of his mouth moving downward, his eyes going distant – and saw exactly how the man that was so remarkable to her, vanished behind a perfectly manufactured mask.
Today, he wouldn’t need to be unremarkable for a change. Looking like he did now was exactly what his job would be for the evening.
She cleared her throat although she knew he’d noticed her coming in already. Whether it was the fact that he was a spy or him just being more aware of her, she wasn’t quite sure. Because she couldn’t be sure for herself with him either – she just noticed him. Always acutely aware of him being around, as if their gravity was pulling each other into the other one’s orbit constantly.
“Ready to go?” he asked matter-of-factly.
She nodded. “As ready as I can be.”
The 30th floor of the Illodia Tower was the highest point in Exmoor, looking over a myriad of tress, parks and lakes and an interesting view with its impressive external staircase spiraling up the 100 meters up until the highest point of the tower, loosely connecting the terraces adjoined to each apartment. It was a nice change to the otherwise artificial surface of Coruscant, where buildings and people dominated the picture everywhere.
It was a purely residential building and part of the Beruss clan’s family estate – Imperial sympathizers although once at least loosely allied to the Rebellion through one of their senators and his friendship to Bail Organa. This was probably why the Imperial presence at the party they were attending tonight was limited to the actual partygoers and barely any bodyguards or security being visible. It made their overall mission easier although it wasn’t as complicated or risky to begin with.
A lot of Imperial higher-ups were expected to attend what was thinly veiled as a simple get-together for a few high-ranking Imperial officers and influential businessmen and actually organized to raise funds, convince investors and sponsors and cultivate contacts. Jyn’s alias – Ranna Aiden – was known for being a highly influential Imperial sympathizer – nouveau riche, as a few would call her, with a bit of an influence and a high interest in weapons technology. The real Ranna Aiden had gone, well, missing some time ago and someone in the Alliance was smart enough to slowly forge her identity into something that could be used one day on an occasion like this. And Jyn was perfect for the role – not only matching the real Ranna in looks, but also in expertise. The original was known for her extensive knowledge of weaponry – knives, blasters, grenades, any kind of melee weapons – and for having inherited a lot of credits she loved to invest in weapon factories all around the galaxy.
It was oddly fitting for Jyn. She didn’t remember those parties much from when she was young, but she still remembered some of the people being invited to them, remembered eavesdropping on some of the more serious conversations although not realizing what all of it was about at that age. She knew those people; at some point in her life might even have fitted into this sort of function all too well before her whole life had turned upside down. It didn’t mean she liked it. She was glad Cassian was at her side. Even though his cover meant he merely was escorting her to the party and therefore she had to do all the talking, socializing, smiling, listening. Cassian was better at all of this, usually, fitting into this role through years of practice. She was still afraid to make some rookie mistake and giving herself away somehow. But every now and then he would hold her arm that was tucked under his tighter, as if to reassure her everything was alright and she was doing okay. Whenever he did it, she threw a glance his way, her smile a little less wide but much more sincere.
“Miss Aiden,” someone called out for them – well, her. Someone she recognized as Director Varon Tull. His profile was one of the many she’d studied before they came here, as the Director was currently in charge of Oryn Engineering, one of the rising weapon’s manufacturers of the Empire. “Pleased to finally meet you in person.”
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Director,” Jyn replied, politely shaking his hand.
He turned to Cassian, extending his hand to him. “Varon Tull,” he introduced himself. Before Cassian could say anything, Jyn stepped between them again, putting her hand on Cassian’s arm. “This is Mal Tarven, Director. He’s accompanying me tonight. Don’t mind him, he’s not much of a talker.”
The Director smiled and nodded. It wasn’t unusual that the entourage wasn’t much for talking as they usually served as nothing more than being pleasant on the eye and fetching drinks.
It had been a while since Jyn had seen so many fancy looking people crammed together in one of those shiny and bright apartments high above the Coruscant pavement. It was a long time ago – when her parents were still tucking her blankets over her when wishing her goodnight, when her papa was still braiding her hair in the morning, when the man in white was still a family friend and not a protagonist of her nightmares. She didn’t have to hide the scars and marks on her body while wearing a nice dress like she did now.
The dinner wasn’t yet about to start, so they had a couple of minutes to scan the room and people – making mental notes of possible escape routes, security cameras and personnel, known or new faces – not that they would need it today. Most likely they would join dinner, gather as much information as they could and leave without anyone ever realizing something about them was odd.
Cassian grabbed two glasses from one of the wandering waiters’ trays and handed one to Jyn. His free hand returned to the small of her back, hovering there, not quite touching but leading her through the crowd anyway, always a step behind as though she was leading them all along.
“’Not much of a talker’, heh?” he murmured into her ear, leaning down to do so.
“You’re just here for the food and to look pretty, remember?” she teased him. The soft smile that played around the corner of his mouth was worth it.
With glasses in hand they reached one of the big windows leading to the spacious terrace. It was already dark outside and the temperature had dropped, so the evening air felt slightly chilly but still pleasant after the stifling and overcrowded atmosphere of the apartment. Only a few people were still outside, a nice opportunity for them to speak in private without being obvious about it.
Jyn leaned her back against the balustrade, casting a glance over her shoulder down to the park stretching out beneath them before looking back to Cassian who held an unusual distance to her – standing a couple of feet from her and the balustrade, a carefully guarded look on his face. Neutral to anyone else but Jyn could make out the worry in his eyes. It took her a moment before she made the connection and she allowed herself a soft, amused smile to form on her face.
“Are you… afraid of heights?” she asked, her voice dropping with the last part of her question as if she was talking about the most important intel the Alliance held. He looked at her incredulously and his silence was all the answer she needed.
Still, she looked at him, prodded him to say it out loud. “So?” she tried again, her voice layered with quiet amusement. He fixed her with what could only be described as a glare – and allowed her to see the indignation in it.
“I am not afraid of heights,” he started, his voice low. He was admitting a weakness and she knew it wasn’t easy for him. It wouldn’t be for her either. “Just cautious.” Images of him lying unconscious several feet beneath her on a platform in a far away data tower flashed in front of her eyes and she closed them for a moment. It had been months since Scarif, the nightmares still came to her even when she was awake. She buried them deep inside her, tucking them away with the man in white and tried to concentrate on the here and now.
When she opened her eyes again, Cassian was suddenly closer again, his eyes focusing on her, centering her in the present, pulling her back like a magnet. Her eyes locked on his for a moment and she saw in them that he knew what she was thinking about. Her gaze shifted, her head rising to look past his to the night sky. She could actually see stars out here.
Cassian followed her gaze, still not quite leaning against the railing but much closer to her now.
“My father used to explain the night sky to me when I was a kid,” she started, still looking up. Her chin was pointed towards the sky, exposing the smooth skin of her neck to him. „He explained all the different constellations and their meaning. The ones here and then later,” her voice dropped lower, the next words only a whisper between the two of them, “on Lah’mu.” They were the only ones on the terrace by now, but it was always better to be safe. She couldn’t know whether anyone was listening.
Her gaze was still directed at the sky, but all her senses were attuned to Cassian and his warm presence next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his jaw also pointing upwards, his right hand loosely gripping the balustrade, his body slightly turned towards her, blocking her from the rest of the party.
She lifted her right hand and pointed towards three shimmering stars right in front of them, shortly above the horizon.
“The Pillars of Waryl,” she told him. “That’s what those three stars are called. Waryl was the Queen’s daughter, beautiful and talented. She fell in love with Antar, a poor farmer’s boy, but they weren’t allowed to be together because he was mortal and she was celestial. So her parents forbid her to see him ever again and sent her to the stars to separate them forever. But he followed her and they found their new home beneath the stars.” She hesitated for a moment before going on, “Her stars are meant as a welcome sight to those returning home.”
His eyes wandered to her collar, following the line of her dress downwards to where her kyber crystal usually sat on her chest – and thought about how their lives had almost ended on a beach under a much brighter sky and at the hand of a much deadlier star. Did she believe they would have ended in other people’s stories about the night sky? Some tragic story of heroism and hope to pass onto the next generation?
A soft ringing dragged him out of his thoughts – someone tapping a glass or ringing a bell to let the guests know that dinner was ready and they should gather around the table.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm and she wrapped hers around him, pressing into his side lightly. She braced herself to be Ranna again, putting on that smiling, non-threatening façade, the girl that had lived her life and had never seen war up and close.
The dinner would be the official part, superficial talk about the latest political developments without going into detail, some discussions about some holo show Jyn had never seen or even heard of, occasional bits about revolts that were crushed by Empire forces. Jyn swallowed hard before joining some part of the conversation, not really thinking about which, carefully lacing her voice to sound as sweetly and unassuming as possible. Just watching these people – sitting, eating and drinking what could feed the whole rebellion for a month, not caring about what was going on in the galaxy as long as they were not affected by it, talking about it like it was something happening on a kriffing holo show and not to actual people…
Cassian’s hand on her thigh startled her. He didn’t look at her, the movement of his hand barely visible to anyone else, his posture suggesting nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he had noticed her tensing and tried to calm her down, his index finger pressing into the texture of her dress and the skin underneath, drawing small circles and forcing her to concentrate on her breathing. But all she could think about now was his hand on her, his finger pressing into her skin, warming her up even through the fabric of her clothes and it took more strength than she liked to admit to center herself again and get her mind back to the topic at hand.
This was just the first part, not even the important one, and she had to stay focused. The information they needed would hopefully be shared after dinner when everyone of distinction would excuse themselves and would finally talk business.
It didn’t take long – right after dessert was served – for Garallia, one of the higher-ranking Imperials – some Director for a weapon’s factory in the Mid Rim – to lean across the table. “Well, join me for a brandy, ladies and gentlemen?”
Jyn nodded slightly and turned to Cassian. “All business and politics, darling. That sort of thing,” she said in her best Coruscanti accent. “Wouldn’t interest you anyway. Just stay here and wait for me.” With that she stood, placed her hand on Cassian’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, barely noticeable. She leaned down and gave him a short kiss on the cheek – a condescending gesture to anyone else in the room, but she could feel the tension in his shoulders loosen just slightly at the contact.
It wasn’t something practiced, nothing they’d spoken about – how affectionate they should be towards each other on this mission; Cassian probably trying to not push her too far, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, leaving it up to her how far she wanted to go. It fitted their current situation quite nicely – not really sure about what they were, how the other felt about all of this, how they felt about each other. They’d just fallen into each other’s orbit, constantly circling each other, constantly gravitating, but neither of them knew how to act around all of this. They were thrown back to the elevator on Scarif, back to the beach, holding onto each other until the very end and being content with that – and not knowing what to do with it all after miraculously surviving. Everything was simultaneously not enough and too much – every accidental touch igniting a spark and burning everything to the ground.
The touch of her lips lingered on his cheek and Cassian had to resist the sudden urge to put his fingers where her lips had been seconds before to ground himself again. It wouldn’t fit his role, wouldn’t suit his superficial and ignorant persona, so he curled his hand into a fist under the table before releasing the tension again.
He watched her tucking her hair behind her ear while looking back in his direction, signaling him that she would contact him should anything go wrong. The knife on her thigh wasn’t visible, but it calmed his nerves that he knew it was there – along with the neatly tacked hairpins holding together her elegant updo. Pretty looking stars and flowers only he knew were deadlier than any weapon he had on him and even deadlier because Jyn could put them to good use if needed.
With that thought still on his mind she disappeared in the next room, leaving him with the other attendants that had been left behind because they wouldn’t be interested in these sort of things… and for most of them, this assessment was probably on point.
Still, he could try and get some information out of them as well. It probably wouldn’t be as useful as Jyn’s, but he could still use the time until she came back and keep himself busy.
He grabbed another glass from one the waiters and headed to one of the younger guests standing alone and like she was lost at the edge of the room, looking out of the wide glass doors. There was nothing there to see, the light of the apartment now flooding the terrace and blocking the night sky and stars from view.
“Not much for mingling?” She hadn’t even noticed him approaching from behind, his voice making her jump a little. She turned her face towards him and he put on a bright, innocuous smile – his face welcoming and unobtrusive.
“Not really, no” she started. “I don’t really know anyone here.” She was new, he soon learned, the current mistress of one of the officers now with Jyn. Someone working for another weapons manufacturer currently on the rise. She told him that she really didn’t enjoy attending these parties – that she had to accompany him to several just like this one in the last month (he noted the locations in his mind, all of them filed carefully for later use), that this was her second this week alone, the seventh this month. Always the same people, always the same conversations, always so much food (and she had to stay in shape) – it was truly a nightmare.
She wasn’t exactly a goldmine of valuable information, but she had some gossip and gave locations and names eagerly. She was glad anyone talked to her at all – which didn’t seem to be the case often. It wasn’t hard to charm her enough to open up to him – an open smile here, a small compliment there, a few understanding nods because they were in the same situation.
He had the chance to speak to a few other guests before Jyn finally emerged from the adjoining room. An Imperial officer in uniform accompanied her, his hand awfully close to her arm and waist, his head bowed down to speak into her ear without whispering (why he would lean so close when he still kept the volume of his speaking up, Cassian couldn’t quite understand).
“So, if you ever feel up to –“ he made a pause for what Cassian could only assume was dramatic emphasis, ”playing with someone in your league –“ and with that he glowered at Cassian – not even trying to hide the distaste in his eyes, ”just contact me, darling.“
They paused a couple of feet away from where Cassian currently chatted with a young male escort who was with one of the senators.
“I bet we’d have a lot more to talk about than you and your… boy over there.“ And with that he leaned down to Jyn‘s ear, his mouth touching her hair, his hand on her shoulder, making her force a smile and suppress the shiver daring to run down her body. Cassian could see the quick flash of disgust crossing her eyes, but she was good – Cassian had trained with her enough to know that – and quickly tucked away any unpleasant emotion running through her. The only thing that stayed was her smile – sweet and flirty and welcoming to the officer.
“I’m fine,” Jyn pressed through slightly gritted teeth. “Thanks.” She remembered to breathe and inhaled deeply. Her voice was sweeter when she spoke again, fixing Cassian with her eyes. “He’s nice enough to look at, don’t you think? We don’t do much talking anyway.”
The officer wasn’t convinced but was at least smart enough to not press the topic. He still left his hand on her shoulder for a moment too long and Cassian could see that it took Jyn every single ounce of willpower not to grab him, throw him to the ground and press one of the little daggers holding her hair together against his throat until he drew blood.
When they finally reached the other side of the room, Jyn extracted herself from the officer’s grip and offered him her hand instead. “It was nice talking over the details with you, Avery,” she told him as he took the hand to shake it.
“The offer still stands,” he answered. “Whenever you’re tired of him, feel free to contact me.”
She smiled at that, letting go of his hand and reaching for Cassian’s hair. Her hands ran through it a bit too roughly, her hand finding its way to his neck and gripping it firmly. “I’ll keep it in mind.” But she looked at Cassian while saying it, her eyes resting on his face, studying his reaction to her touch – the one he hid under his neutral and pleasant smile.
He could feel a small blush creeping up his neck where her skin was on his, like a fire spreading all the way to his ears.
“Let’s go, Mal. I’ve spent enough money for today and did enough talking.” With that, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the elevator. His stunned expression was only half-played and the frustrated look on the officer’s face definitely was not played – which meant she got the effect she needed and the revenge she wanted.
They disappeared into the elevator, the doors closing swiftly behind them and shutting out the mindless chatter from the party instantly.
Jyn leaned against the wall furthest from the doors and let out a long breath. She looked exhausted. Cassian joined her, facing her in the dim light.
“You were great.” And after a short pause, “We’re done here. Let’s go home.” It didn’t need to be said, but he knew she needed to hear the words out loud, needed to hear them to let it all go – to come back to the real world, her real life, the real them. To him.
Hesitantly, he reached out for her. He tucked one of the loose hairs back behind her ear, his hand then wandering down to her shoulder – touching her were the grabby officer had laid his hands on her. In contrast, his touch was light as feather, merely hovering over her skin, but lightening up her senses nevertheless.
She knew what he was doing, his eyes asking for her permission. She nodded almost indiscernibly, granting it, and he finally placed his hand more firmly on her shoulder, effectively erasing the memory of the other man’s touch. He always managed to bring her back, to ground her again.
She looked up to him through her lashes, a shiver going down her arm – starting at her shoulder where he touched her and running down her spine, leaving goosebumps on its way. She had time to study him, making sure he was alright. He was still tense and she knew he wouldn’t be able to unwind until they were back on the ship, back in their own clothes, coordinates for the hyperdrive calculated and on their way home. But she could already see his shoulders relaxing a bit, his jaw unclenching, the neutral expression shifting to a more tired one.
It only lasted for a short moment though – the mask slipping back on again when they reached the first floor and a sharp ring from the elevator pulled them out of their reverie.
Cassian’s hand fell back to his side, but he offered her his arm again to guide her out of the hall and out on the streets.
The way back to their ship was filled with silence. It wasn’t necessary – and safe, yet – to talk about the mission and the information they’d gathered. So they just sat in silence while the hovercab brought them to the spaceport.
Jyn was glad she could get out of the dress, the shoes, the heavy hair – although she knew that, again, this dress would be impossible to handle on her own. She didn’t even need to ask this time.
They were in almost the exact same position as earlier that day – her back turned towards him, sitting in front of the mirror and staring at his reflection with a quiet intensity. He held her gaze while coming closer. “Can you help me with these first?” she asked him, pointing to her hair. The delicate pins were spread all over her bun, almost like stardust, tightly knotted into the dark strands of her hair. He moved even closer, searching her face for any sign of discomfort but only saw her silent approval.
He started at the bottom of her head, slowly pulling out the first of the long pins, careful to not hurt her or himself in the process. A lock of her hair came down, falling on her shoulder. He moved his hands meticulously around her head, taking out pin after pin, curl after curl falling over her back. Her hair was longer than he’d ever seen it, real hair mixing with pieces of extensions she’d had to wear for the pins to stay safe in the bun.
When the last dagger had made its way onto the small table in front of them – all of them lined up perfectly, pointing away from them – he smoothed out her hair carefully.
She held her breath, still watching his movements in the mirror. His hands stilled at the tip of her hair, his eyes locking with hers again.
She could feel his hand move down further then, until he found the zipper of her dress. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes. She could feel his hands pressing more solidly into her back and then he slowly pulled the zipper down.
Her eyes flew open. The tension between them was palpable now. Everything else around them seemed to still and the only thing Jyn could hear was a soft noise in her ears – a quiet hum probably coming from the hyperdrive – and their breathing.
This was it. Jyn could feel them standing at a precipice. He could take a step back, turn around and leave her to herself. They would go on the way they always did, circling around each other carefully – always in each other’s space, but never quite crossing the line. Or she could turn around, close the distance that was barely there and finally cross the line. She quickly searched his face for any hints of discomfort or doubt but couldn’t find any.
The dress hung loosely at her shoulders now, almost falling off as she stood. Cassian seemed surprised by her sudden movement and hastily looked past her shoulder as he noticed her state of undress.
“Cassian,” she said softly. “Look at me.” He finally looked up to her through his lashes and Jyn was certain she’d never seen him like this before. Unsure, almost shy. There was a desperation in his eyes, like she was the first drop of water he saw after days of going without it.
And still, he waited. He waited for her to make the first move, for her to stop or to go on. And she knew, whatever it was, he would accept it.
She moved even closer to him, her chest now against his. She could feel him breathing – rapidly, shallow, sharp intakes of breath against the hammering of her own heart.
“Do you… should we talk about this?” There wasn’t anything to talk about, really. She felt like they’d already said everything one way or another – in the elevator in Scarif, when he looked at her as though it was the greatest honor to have her be the last thing he saw before death; on the beach, when he told her the only thing she still needed to hear before dying with him; at the med bay, when she was the first thing he saw after waking up and the only thing he managed was a soft smile.
“Like I said… I’m done talking.” And with that, she took another step, removing what little space was left between them and reached up to cup his face in her hands. He didn’t move at first, still waiting for her to take the last step… which she did. Her lips brushed against his – testing at first, then pushing further. He let out a soft sigh and then he finally moved as well.
His hands were in her hair and on her face and he pulled her closer, closer, until she was flush against him. His mouth moved over hers eagerly, sucking at her lower lip. He nibbled at it shortly and then tenderly bit down on it. She let out a low moan despite herself and grabbed the back of his head to pull him closer still. Her tongue pressed against his mouth fervently and she didn’t have to wait too long before he opened it to welcome her home.
He still tasted of expensive champagne and extravagant food and it was an entirely uncommon taste she would have never associated with him. It was intoxicating and strange at the same time. She couldn’t get enough of it.
When they finally parted again, Cassian’s hair was messy, his tie almost ripped off his collar, his shirt already buttoned down a few inches. He looked beautiful – as he should for this mission… just a pretty face and nothing else.
But she knew there was so much more to him. She knew here and then – even back in the elevator and on the beach on Scarif, maybe even before that – that she loved this man. Not for his face but for the man he decided to be. Not only for the rebellion but for her.