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Lodestone: A Wynston/Ruth Alternate Universe


bright_ephemera

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Okay, I'll record the gut reaction of no actual thinking or clarifying involved:

 

OMG OMG OMG OMG :D :D :eek::D:eek: *flails on the keyboard*

 

...that was really great. I was practically bouncing up and down in my chair from excitement as I read. And no one died! I'm so disappointed!

 

...nah, just kidding. :D:rolleyes:

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The tension was incredible. I really didn't know what Quinn was going to do when it came to Wynston. Your explanation of the two situations makes perfect sense.

 

Also, as others have noted, Quinn telling Cole that he didn't have to obey an unjust order was brilliantly appropriate. It did get me thinking again about the moral status of the sith warrior vs. Quinn. I know that trying to kill the woman you supposedly love because you've been ordered to do so is a big deal, but there are a number of things you have to do as a warrior to advance the story that are fairly despicable too. Even someone who went as light-sidey as the game allows can't avoid some really disgusting actions.

 

So... yeah, I still feel bad for Quinn, in spite of everything. It's a shame that not everyone could have what they wanted... but that was never going to happen... and they still ended up in wonderfully happy positions compared to RMC. You made it clear that this version of Quinn loves his son with a purer, stronger love than he ever felt for Ruth, and they've ended up both alive and able to have a role in each other's on-going existence. Ruth and Wynston have been reconciled beautifully. They're two passionate, eternally-giving people who really deserve each other.

 

Sometimes I really like a happy ending.

 

So, ultimately, this story satisfied me very much. I am only sorry that it's over now, though the ending was great. You're really talented. Thanks for writing and sharing.

Edited by Estelindis
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Whew! Thank you all! :) I don't have an epilogue written up just yet but I have a few images in mind. One or two followup scenes will be posted here at some point. I'll also be doing one or two quote-heavy comment responses. :D Until then, an analysis essay. See, once upon a time, Wynston, instead of staying in the office suppressing his personal issues and prepping careful political maneuvering, just went where his heart told him to go. From there, how did things go differently and why?

 

 

Ruth had a friend and a lover in her darkest hour, one with the experience and assertiveness and determination and luck to stay close without getting killed. Thereafter she didn't spend her career as a bitter paranoia monster. She never did the long descent from Light Side to lawful evil. She kept friends (though I had fewer of them heavily involved in this narrative). Her son knew a trusting family environment; Colrand the child of a woman with close connections to her friends and a personal/philosophical continuity with a LS family turned out very, very different from Rylon the near-orphan in a paranoid world.

 

On the flip side, Ruth's decision to withhold Colrand from his father set up a long-term lack that Rylon never experienced.

 

Professionally speaking Wynston did just about what he always would've done, because he's Wynston. This time he had to do some long-term secrets management with a long-term entanglement; preserving what's good for the Empire's people against the actions of the Empire's top Sith was a tricky act.

 

Personally speaking, Wynston challenged his scripts in Lodestone. First in coming to Ruth at all, second in coming to her to say "I want this to go differently" (part 4). He took a minute to push at his assumptions of how the world worked in the hopes that the result would be better than his current rules predicted/permitted. In canon he lived and will likely die untouched by anything stronger than that strange disturbing influence that stopped him from putting Kaliyo down. In Lodestone he opened up to more, to one person, and that lends him a passion and a grounding that makes his career a lot more than just an outsider doing just a job.

 

Quinn didn't make any such challenge in this universe, not until it was almost too late (he doesn't admit that "it must go differently" until his son is in active danger). The circumstances to encourage shaking one's worldview were not naturally set up for him in Lodestone. In canon he came back to Ruth as a father and a human being, and they learned to talk in terms other than that of master and servant, to use something outside the script of commander and underling. In Lodestone Quinn came back on the job. He had neither the time nor the context to re-forge any kind of connection or negotiate lasting personal change. That meant he could only offer the same terms he had always had.

 

This is also the strong countering force against Rylon/Cole's attitude: Rylon had no use for his Quinn (unfavorable) but that Quinn got to get to know and trust Ruth personally (favorable). Colrand was desperate to know his Quinn (favorable) but that Quinn was showing up as a semi-hostile professional disruption (unfavorable).

 

The Emperor in both cases did his thing as soon as his Voice and whatever other machinations are in place. That's what the Emperor does, you know. Evil.

 

There are secondary effects I didn't explore: The degree to which Ruth's resources and influence expanded Jaesa and Kaeve's LS Sith ministry into a full-fledged offworld academy; the fact that Lodestone!Vette never did the game canon Smuggler line because, never having cut ties with Ruth, the opening events never came up (but I'm sure she did get to catch up with Risha sooner or later); the fact that Lodestone!Vector survived due to Ruth helping with the critical mission that killed him in the main timeline; the fact that Hazard, while she may have become a Joiner, never had to become the nest's Dawn Herald and so may never have come to the Aegis; the fact that Pierce may have relaxed his secrecy to let Pierce Junior meet Ruth and Wynston, and the fact that Pierce Junior probably promptly tried to sign up for Ruth's personal bodyguard so as to meet all the hot Sith Lords. SO MUCH STUFF. So many possibilities!

 

In my headcanon, Ruth died on the Emperor's space station and Wynston and Quinn have been blasting their way through middle age shooting dirty looks at each other ever since. But, you know, sometimes a 100,000-word what-if comes at you and you have to write it out! Thanks for reading :D

 

 

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What-ifs are great fun. What-ifs written by authors with an accurate grasp of everything that makes their characters tick, along with a deft hand that changes what would be most interesting to change, are amazing, as evidenced above! Was lovely to get your analysis of what made the difference here.

 

It's kind of you to thank us for reading, but it was a great pleasure to read, especially since you updated so often. My days won't be the same in the meantime. :)

Edited by Estelindis
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At least Quinn wasn't stupid.

 

Major challenge for the man, but he made it.

 

Omg, Quinn and Colrand...I just. My stomach in knots. Quinn saying something is an "unjust command." Only took you, what, seventeen years and a mind-controlled son to figure that out?!?! [/Quote]

 

This was the opportunity to do brutal poetic justice and have Quinn die at the hands of a loved one on his known-questionable superior's command. However, actually ending it that way would've needlessly brutalized a youngster for no reason other than to punish a guy who has already lost enough. The point's been made: love and will were already winning over command everywhere else. I decided not to drive it into the main offender's skull with a lightsaber.

 

 

 

QUINNNNN!!! YOU LEFT WYNSTON TO DIE?!?!?!?!?! OMG DIAFF YOU MONSTER!!!

 

I didn't know what Quinn was going to do when I wrote him walking away. I had spent hours wondering. It felt false to the character to have him suddenly have a change of heart and begin tenderly ministering to his fellow sentient as a recognition of their I don't even know what. It felt senselessly awful for him to finish the murdering job. I gave serious thought to having Colrand just hit Quinn on the head really hard so I wouldn't have to think about it. Instead, Quinn, who must be as conflicted as I was, walked. Where? To the ship, nowhere else to go. That bit about fixing things if he must and not getting too choked up if they break while he's walking, that all developed after he stepped away.

 

Doc, just for being un-BELIEVABLY awesome, I will someday make a jk that will want to stay with you rather than Scourge. Somehow. You deserve it, man.

 

I'm sure he'll put the "scum" back into "charming scum" as soon as he finds a girl who doesn't know him yet. But oh, when he's good, he's very very good. :D

 

"Forgiven. Anything else is your call."

 

This is a noncommittal way of saying "I am still hopelessly and completely yours, um, but I'm trying not to make this into a risk or a scary thing."

 

 

..omg...they're all alive. <3 Bright!!! They're all alive!!! Yayyyy!!!!!

 

:) Honestly, Quinn was the only one who naturally strayed close to death, and his martyrdom would've felt too pat. I didn't like the idea. (For once!)

 

Many favorites from this <3

 

once again GIRLFRIENDPOWER I don't even care Ruth and Gith! it's a thing in my head they will save the universe together.

 

It would be such a one-sided relationship. Both of them would be thinking really loudly about what god-awful personal messes the other is, but only Larr Gith would be saying it :D

 

…actually, no, I'm sure that after a wacky pilot episode something would happen that encourages Ruth to start shamelessly criticizing Larr Gith as well. They will become crime-fighting girlfriends and sitcom-worthily-awful girlfriends to their respective rakish beaux.

 

mmm... Scourge.... So him. Exactly the delay he would not put up with and exactly what he would do. If you need someone for necessary backstabbing he's your man.

 

Get to the point, people I'm stuck working with, or I will get to it for you. :cool:

 

Doc whistled. "You carry this much synthplasma around in your field kit? Exactly how much bleeding goes on in your average workday?"

 

"Use it or don't," Quinn snapped. He returned to his pack, which beneath the two hastily thrown-in bags was immaculately organized, pulled out some supplies of his own, and turned his attention to Colrand.

 

I love this almost as much as their encounter in NDOW:ComicCon.

 

Of all the companion crossovers I've written, NDOW Quinn/Doc is one of the ones I'm proudest of. (Fun fact, Pierce/Rusk in that same battle is another.) Those medic boys just…yeah. There's promise there.

 

 

Oooooh just a 'soldier' now hmmm? Good Ruth ... smart Ruth... *pats Ruth* OW ok... I'll stop.

Ouch, thanks for the sympathy. Remind me not to call you in tears during my next breakup. :p

 

Her eyes stung. "Let's get you back to the ship," she said hoarsely. She scooped him up once more and let him drape his arms around her neck. "I love you," she said as she walked.

 

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Again."

 

"I love you. I love you, and I'm sorry."

 

"Just the first part."

 

"I love you," she repeated, and he didn't seem to get tired of it, all the way back to the ship.

double d'aaaaaaaaw (also imagery of this is fantastic and only not absurd because BT1 :D)

 

yup :D This would've been more awkward if they weren't about 5'6" and 5'7" respectively, with him on the wiry side. He's still got muscle mass, but Ruth's all Force-strengthy; the awkward thing would've just been the bulk of him if he were much bigger than she is.

 

 

And the best part? Quinn figures out how not to be a bastard and the person he saves? WYNSTON. <3

 

 

Great story, bright. Loved it top to bottom even though it stabbed me in the gut and made me angry on too many occasions to count.

 

:D

 

And no one died! I'm so disappointed!

 

*hem* Edit: Rocks fall, three randomly selected major characters die.

 

...nah, just kidding. :D:rolleyes:

 

Shoot! Too late :o

 

 

Also, as others have noted, Quinn telling Cole that he didn't have to obey an unjust order was brilliantly appropriate. It did get me thinking again about the moral status of the sith warrior vs. Quinn. I know that trying to kill the woman you supposedly love because you've been ordered to do so is a big deal, but there are a number of things you have to do as a warrior to advance the story that are fairly despicable too. Even someone who went as light-sidey as the game allows can't avoid some really disgusting actions.

 

I've thought some about the question of when the Warrior really has a choice, both in game mechanics and out. When Baras grabs you by the scruff of the neck at the Academy? Not likely. You're in little to no position to argue. And he keeps an eye on you throughout your tasks. The only nice thing you get is that everyone knows you're Baras's enforcer; you're not surprising anybody or betraying their personal trust when you start swinging. You're stuck doing a whole lot of ugly things, and sometimes the best that can be said is that at least you never misrepresented it.

 

 

Sometimes I really like a happy ending.

 

So, ultimately, this story satisfied me very much.

 

I do like both those conditions! I was hoping I could work poor Ruth around to getting both. :) Glad you enjoyed!

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Epilogue, scene 1: On the Fury

 

 

 

Wynston was unconscious in the tank, but Ruth stood before him to record her report anyway.

 

"I took the Aegis from the Emperor's remaining forces. Pierce has been itching to get at them ever since they effectively stole his command over my personal guard when Quinn moved in. The ship's in good shape; Vector and Temple have the inventories going but so far it looks like they were far more interested in capturing than in destroying the tech on board. Vector is…you know I've always liked him, but I am amazed to see him in action working the hours he's been working under the pressures he's had. Your people are in good hands." She shifted. "Anyway, I love you and I hope I can line up me being out of combat with you being awake sometime soon. Until then, Wynston." She ended the recording and left the message ready to play for him.

 

Then she looked at the tank. Wynston floated, thin, hurt, slowly mending. Ruth kept vigil.

 

A casual drawl sounded behind her. "If I had a mechanically inclined colleague aboard I'd have him tweak the seats there. Wouldn't take much to put in a bench seat, let you lean up on the tank all you want, up to and including falling asleep there."

 

"I can't stay that long," she said, and turned to Doc. Over the last couple of days he had started styling his facial hair into what was shaping up to be a truly ridiculous moustache-plus-tuft. She kept a straight face anyway. "The operation needs me."

 

"That's what I hear. You know, for all that your Wrath-ing doesn't look too Wrath-ful, it does seem to involve a lot of stress."

 

"Someone's got to do it. Now, I've secured a location where Wynston here will be able to recuperate safely. Now that I have that you're free to go; just name the port of call and I'll drop you and Larr Gith off." Or rather, Colrand would; he had been quiet the last couple of days, but he liked to be on the bridge and had proved eager to apply the few weeks' piloting lessons he had gotten while Ruth was working out of the Tenacity.

 

"Still not supposed to issue a press release on how we killed the Emperor for real this time?" said Doc.

 

"Still not supposed to do that, I'm afraid. PR is being handled by a different department." Let Wynston's people sort out the matter of that knowledge and its repercussions. "Either way it doesn't mean your Jedi are going to win," she added. "But I assure you, the sane Imperials won a great victory. And that's better for everyone."

 

"I have a strict policy of not discussing politics with Sith Lords," Doc said. His voice only squeaked a little.

 

"Ah, of course." She didn't quite laugh at herself. The man was a civilian, she'd better drop work for now. "Well, in any case, I'll let you and Larr off and you'll be well compensated for your troubles."

 

"See, last time we were at this it was Lord Scourge calling the shots and compensation did not figure into it. Working with you has been a real trade up so far. I appreciate that."

 

"I appreciate your working with us. Very much." She turned back to Wynston. His every breath was cause for gratitude.

 

Doc sauntered up to her side. "He's a lucky guy, having someone like you. The kind who really would sleep on a bench all week just to stick by the kolto tank. You know, if there weren't worlds to conquer, which is completely understandable. You still made time to come by. That's dedication." He paused briefly. "I hear that women like that tend to be very good kissers."

 

Ruth kept a straight face, barely. "I wouldn't know, I've never kissed a woman like that."

 

"Oh, well, if you're curious I could check and tell you."

 

He looked so cheerful. And so ridiculously hopeful. "You remind me of him a little," she said, grinning. "Very brave."

 

"Admirably brave? Heroically, even? I'm just saying, the way talks've been going I might not be a free man much longer, and, well…"

 

"Then I wish you every happiness. Larr's a lucky woman."

 

Doc shrugged philosophically and, still cheerful, looked back at the tank. "And this one's a lucky guy. Not everybody gets to say his lady friend faced down the Emperor."

 

"And he'll be alive to say it." It was a good thought. It was a wonderful thought. It had come too close to failing. On an impulse she threw her arms around the dark-haired man beside her and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for saving his life."

 

He accepted the tribute with a steadying arm and a blindingly bright smile. "Hey. That's what I do, honey." He gave a courtly little bow. "Now then, I should go figure out where I'm getting dropped off." He headed for the door, musing out loud as he went. "Nar Shaddaa, maybe, see some of the old gang there for one modest welcome-home party before I take my time off from stress. Larr should like that…oh, and I can't skip Balmorra, just a low-key little tour there for old times' sake…"

 

 

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Epilogue, scene 2: On Dromund Kaas

 

 

 

"It stopped raining."

 

"What?" Ruth went to join Wynston at the window. Outside the clouds of Dromund Kaas were a pale grey, backlit with sunlight that seemed almost ready to break through.

 

"Look at that. It's probably just for the day, but still." He stepped back and smiled at her. "Let's go outside."

 

The day was warm and still, and in the relative brightness the garden fairly glowed, from the white-and-blue lilies to the redblazes. Wynston made it as far as a broad seat by the pond and sat down; that was far enough for now. If he was going to strain himself he would rather save it for after he accomplished something useful on the job.

 

He really did hate feeling like an invalid.

 

Ruth settled beside him. "So. Emperor gone, non-rainy day on Dromund Kaas achieved. Happy?"

 

He settled an arm around her and kissed her, a lazy pleasant warm kiss that wasn't getting water dumped on it for once. "Yes."

 

"I…" She took out her holo. He saw Quinn's name before she leaped to her feet. "I'd better take this. I'll be right back." She half-ran out of sight.

 

Bloody hell. Wynston reminded himself that Quinn probably hadn't arranged for Wynston's survival just for the chance to hold his continuing influence over Wynston's head. Probably. Ugh. The man brought out the most idiotic thoughts. At least he was out of everyday life again. And there was a general understanding that the two would never show up in the same room again.

 

Ruth flitted back. "Sorry. He was just checking with me before giving Cole a blaster of his own." She half smiled. "He's careful."

 

"He'd better be."

 

Her smile faded. "I still do have to talk to him sometimes. We're not going to be long-distance best friends, but…arrangements for Cole."

 

"I know." Wynston didn't like it, but then, he had never liked anything about Quinn, so that wasn't news.

 

She bit her lip, something she hadn't been nervous enough to do in ages. "I…"

 

"We don't have to talk about him." He didn't think he wanted to know anything about what she was thinking.

 

"Don't we?" She fell silent.

 

Did they? There was nothing Wynston had the right to say. He took a few moments. Then, slowly, he said "There are a lot of things I never thought I could do or feel before I met you. Jealousy is the first one I didn't like."

 

Ruth sat beside him and took his hand. "It's over."

 

"Do you wish it weren't?" he said softly. A big question. Not a fair one, but he wanted to know.

 

"No." She said it with a conviction that warmed his heart. "I told you I'm not built for...multitasking. What you are, what you do for me, what you, as you always said, let me be...that's happiness. Having seen what's on offer? I want you."

 

"All right." He pulled her close. She was terribly, terribly quiet. "I'm sorry, darling. There's no blame, I acted worse than you did in this mess and with less excuse. You were isolated, targeted, and in pain, I was just feeling sorry for myself." He kissed her hair. "I should have stuck to drinking. It turns out I get unprofessional when I'm wallowing in self-pity. Reckless. It almost led to my getting two thirds of our fighting power killed by the Voice, running off without you."

 

"But it didn't. My terrible idea blew up in time for me to come for you."

 

"My terrible idea was worse than your terrible idea. Galactic destruction here."

 

"Hurting you here. That makes mine worse."

 

"Bleeding out in the Voice's station also hurt, so it breaks even damage-wise even before my plan killed the Emperor-qualified warriors."

 

"My plan's lead actor would have gotten me killed. He might have volunteered to help do the killing if I kept cooperating with you. So there, we're even on killing warriors, too."

 

"Let's just agree not to do that again, all right?"

 

"Agreed."

 

He looked into her eyes, that lovely light blue that seemed of a piece with the newly bright world around them, and when she kissed him again it was sweet and deliberate and complete. She only broke away to swing around and straddle him on the bench, the warmth of her touch rising to heat while she raked her fingers through his hair and down his shoulders. Her body against his – not lost after all, not gone, but here, with him, where she wanted to be – was lithe and strong and so very, wonderfully ready.

 

She stopped and sighed. "I'm not supposed to wear you out, am I."

 

He bit back a frustrated cry and instead just slid his hands around her waist. "I don't see any doctors around to enforce that."

 

Maddeningly, she pulled away. "I'd rather be careful."

 

"Darling, you know I don't like to argue with you, but why must you choose now of all times to start being careful?" She made a face at him; he grinned and continued. "Tell you what, why don't I behave and just sit around gathering my strength all day and then we'll go to the Nexus Room tonight."

 

She smiled incredulously. "Really. The Nexus Room?"

 

"What? It's been a while. Drinks, dancing, then home for whatever comes to mind? It's no coup d'état but I thought it might do as a low-key sort of evening."

 

"It does sound nice. Are you sure you're up for it?"

 

"With you? Always."

 

"I'm serious. Walking for extended periods, much less dancing."

 

"Yes. I'm not that fragile, darling."

 

She blinked hard. Then she threw her arms around him, squeezing him close. "I've seen some close calls, love."

 

He hugged her and kissed her hair, her ear, her face, her lips. "Did you really think I would leave you over a little thing like a perforated lung?"

 

She giggled. It shook a tear loose from her eye. "It's just that most people do consider that a dealbreaker. Let it happen once and they're gone."

 

"Not me. Not from you." He wiped the tear away and kissed her. "I'm not that easily discouraged. …And I do want you. Do I really have to behave?"

 

"Just for now."

 

"I'll cooperate, but only because I know it's been a hard couple of months for you and I don't want to give you a difficult time."

 

"Also because you physically can't disobey my orders yet."

 

"It wouldn't have to be disobedience as such. I could persuade you."

 

This isn't open for – mm – debate." She swatted his hand before it could get far. "That's the point."

 

"Ruth, you can be a cruel woman."

 

"Wynston, you love it."

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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...So apparently my brain is more interested in actual psychological fallout than neat tying-up of happy-ending strings. Thanks, brain! Seriously, though, things'll even out.

 

Just not between Quinn and Wynston. I don't see that ever, ever getting friendly. Instead, we have a cease-fire with the understanding that they'll stay out of mutual line of sight. Hooray, diplomacy!

 

I have a couple other things in mind for...sometime. Nothing tremendously earth (Kaas?)-shaking.

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Just not between Quinn and Wynston. I don't see that ever, ever getting friendly. Instead, we have a cease-fire with the understanding that they'll stay out of mutual line of sight. Hooray, diplomacy!.

Hey, that's some serious progress there!

"Did you really think I would leave you over a little thing like a perforated lung?"
Stubborn man, lol.
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...So apparently my brain is more interested in actual psychological fallout than neat tying-up of happy-ending strings. Thanks, brain! Seriously, though, things'll even out.

 

Just not between Quinn and Wynston. I don't see that ever, ever getting friendly. Instead, we have a cease-fire with the understanding that they'll stay out of mutual line of sight. Hooray, diplomacy!

 

I have a couple other things in mind for...sometime. Nothing tremendously earth (Kaas?)-shaking.

 

Is it bad that all I saw was happy? Pshh psychological wut? You got the girl it stopped raining for five minutes... sure you can barely walk, you're sexually frustrated, and you still have to deal with your girlfriend's ex. It stopped raining! HAPPY darn it! HAPPY!

 

Also, Doc got a smooch! A peck on the cheek but still!

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Is it bad that all I saw was happy? Pshh psychological wut? You got the girl it stopped raining for five minutes... sure you can barely walk, you're sexually frustrated, and you still have to deal with your girlfriend's ex. It stopped raining! HAPPY darn it! HAPPY!

 

Also, Doc got a smooch! A peck on the cheek but still!

 

I was in fact in ridiculously happy mode whilst sitting in Wynston's headspace writing it. Half a second's lingering worry over Quinn, but hey then kisses plus hope and cheer for all. Then after I posted I thought "huh, that may have come out all...complicated with stupid real-person thinking-too-much worries instead of neat cheerful end-of-story thoughts." Then I thought "nah, they're happy complicated thinking-too-much worry-studded thoughts. With happiness. So there." :)

 

Also, Doc, you're now the third guy the Emperor's Wrath has kissed since she came to the job. Be honored!

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Epilogue, scene 3: On Dromund Kaas

 

 

 

Ruth rested a hand on Wynston's chest and looked at the freshly formed scars across his torso. With her other hand she patted the old, old scarring on her own. "Look at that. We match."

 

"Yours are prettier."

 

"Yours are healing over better. Vibrosword wounds ripped open again and they'll still look better than the Killik love bite." She kissed him lightly. "You're plenty good-looking."

 

"Sometimes I begin to suspect your idea of 'good-looking' warps to keep me flattered."

 

"Hm. Smile for me?"

 

He obligingly gave her a smile, along with a questioningly cocked eyebrow.

 

She raised her hands in an imaginary frame on his face. "There. Scar up the rest all you like," she quoted, "just don't ever lose that."

 

He took a very still moment to process that. Then suddenly he pulled her onto him and started what might have been a thorough kissing. Except she shied away a second later, lifting her weight off of him to move over and drop on the mattress.

 

"Careful," she said. "You still shouldn't push yourself too hard."

 

He ran a hand over her bare hip. "A little late for that, isn't it?" he murmured.

 

"Well, don't do it more. Yet."

 

"Not to worry, it'd be at least another ten minu–"

 

"I'm serious! I don't want you hurting yourself."

 

"I won't, darling." He looked down at the remaining signs of his injuries. "Honestly, I've had worse."

 

"Wait a minute. You have?"

 

"Quite a while back. It healed up well thanks to immediate and highly sophisticated care, but I had a run-in on Manaan with some saboteurs in a kolto facility. It went poorly; in retrospect I had no business surviving that one, much less keeping that chunk of my spine. And kidneys. And–"

 

"You never told me!"

 

"You had other things on your mind. Cole was teething and that rebellion over near Telos was giving you fits, I didn't want to waste your time with a detailed health report. And then later it just never came up. Largely because I suspected you would give me that lovely yet slightly intimidating glare you're giving me right now."

 

"Tell me next time. You idiot."

 

"Come with me and help me make sure there isn't a next time."

 

"I intend to."

 

He smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, but in all seriousness, give it some thought first. I appreciate all the help you've been holding things together during my recovery, but you realize this is your chance to pick your career. No Baras or Emperor's Hand or anybody enforcing it."

 

"I'm very much aware of that." The thought had been singing in her ears ever since the Emperor's death.

 

"You could go be a florist. Or a short-order cook."

 

"Why in the Emperor's name would I want to do that?"

 

"I don't know, I'm just throwing out ideas. I want you to be sure. You're free, darling, I want you to–"

 

"Pick you?"

 

He fell silent. He seemed to be holding his breath.

 

"Because I do." She brushed his hair clear of his forehead and kissed it. "I know I'm not stealthy or inconspicuous or brilliantly analytical or gadget-savvy nor even particularly young and seductive–"

 

"I beg to differ."

 

"–you would. The point is if I can help you with the big things, protecting our people, I want to do it. And I want to be with you, as much as I can without interfering with whatever specialized work you do."

 

"Conveniently, I've got some leeway at this point in my career to pick my missions and how they're executed. Having a retired Wrath at my side will definitely change the scope of what I can do, and for you I'm happy to do that."

 

She thought about it. "'Change the scope' is a nice way of saying it. If it makes more sense for me to just head up a strike team, play general while you go play spy, that might be easier to adapt to."

 

"I'd rather keep you with me if you're willing."

 

Having someone around again? In contact, every day or close to it? It would be wonderful if she could guarantee being useful under the new job description. "You might be disappointed. Until I get my bearings I'd be somewhere between disruptive and dead weight."

 

"Entirely untrue. Besides, I'm finding the prospect of learning my way around you – er, around with you – anew to be almost embarrassingly exciting."

 

She studied his eyes, red and gleaming, for a few long moments. Then kissed him to be sure. "It could be nice," she conceded, smiling.

 

"It'll be fun. As long as we're planning, I can dust off the Black Codex and erase you if you like. It would confuse the living daylights out of a lot of people when a decade and a half's records of a major military and Sith figure vanishes, but I could do it."

 

"Leave it in. I might still want the formal title recognition from time to time."

 

"Prudent. I just thought I would make the offer."

 

"It's very kind of you to offer to obliterate me. Nobody's ever done that for me before."

 

"Though many have tried." A second later an odd expression passed across his face. "Oh, blast. Speaking of falsifying records, remind me when we actually get out of bed that I need to go fake an accident report."

 

"On what, exactly?"

 

"It just occurred to me the other day that, so long as Lord Scourge has disappeared, it'd be a nice gesture to inform Larr Gith that the ship he took from the Emperor's station exploded. That way she can always believe he died in a fire."

 

"Is…this…something she was looking forward to?"

 

"Very much so."

 

"How…thoughtful."

 

"I do my best, darling."

 

"This is the kind of thing you do when I'm not around?"

 

"All the time."

 

"You usually tell me about the grand-scale corporate espionage and planetary regime changes."

 

His smile widened further as he looked at her. "I can't be neck-deep in glamorous intrigue every day. You might be disappointed if you stick with me."

 

He was so comfortable, so playful. So Wynston. "Mm. We can go forth and disappoint each other, then," said Ruth.

 

"But not just yet. I'm still on bed rest, or something like it." He caught her hand and looked casual. "What's your opinion on not pushing me too hard?"

 

It was tempting, that was her opinion. "I think you have absolutely no concept of what that phrase means, you twit."

 

"You're probably right. You should explain it to me sometime." He pulled her closer. "In detail." And kissed her. "With demonstrations of the interesting bits."

 

Wonderful though his voice was, she decided to shut him up then.

 

 

 

 

 

...I should probably say hi-and-goodbye-for-now to a couple of the other characters before I run out of epilogue-steam. Processing...processing...

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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D'awww cuteness.

 

Also, while it's nice to think that things would be smooth sailing for them from now on, there would have to be a hefty transition period for them both. I mean, they've been "together" but not actually co-habitating for like a decade and a half. Each has their own habits, ways they like things done, all that sort of thing that new couples have to work out. Plus I'd think it would bring up the whole question of Wynston's uh...personal methods of manipulation again (maybe I'm wrong, but I can't help but think that him coming home directly from an op like that would feel different than there-was-a-girl-last-week).

 

Nom nom speculation :D

 

Edit: Also, Cole's relationship with Wynston so far has been a friendly, supportive, but largely absent male figure. If they're actually together, wouldn't it change?

 

Nom nom more speculation lol.

Edited by iamthehoyden
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Epilogue, scene 4: On the Aegis

 

 

 

"Hello there." Ruth beamed at the newly arrived Colrand and gave Quinn, who had not quite stepped out of the transport, a gracious nod to answer his bow.

 

Colrand had gotten his hair cut short. Not a perfect match to his father's, but conspicuously close. He took up his station at his mother's side with something approaching formality.

 

Ruth addressed Quinn. "He's been behaving?" She could have sworn she heard Colrand's eyerolling beside her. Ah, the learned formality hadn't completely taken root yet.

 

"Of course, my lord," said Quinn.

 

Suspicion struck. "If he were misbehaving would you tell me?" she said archly.

 

"Certainly, my lord. I fear I am not qualified to make discipline stick to a Sith." He very nearly smiled. "You are."

 

"Very true. Well, thank you for bringing him by. Call me whenever you finish your current assignment." That would be the next reasonable chance for him to see Colrand again.

 

"I will. Until then, my lord."

 

"Good hunting, Quinn."

 

He bowed. She nodded. He warmed into a smile for Cole, who waved. Then Quinn retreated into the shuttle and Ruth and Colrand proceeded into the Aegis.

 

"If I were making trouble," Colrand said, "you really would hear about it. That's his usual threat, telling on me." Colrand didn't sound all that worried about it.

 

"He…usually threatens you?"

 

"Only when he gets annoyed. – I try not to, honest. I still owe him a few dozen years of good behavior for…you know."

 

There was hurt in his voice. "He doesn't blame you for the Emperor using you," said Ruth. "I hope you know that."

 

"Easier said than undone. He's been really nice, acting normal, but…"

 

"He loves you, Cole. And, believe me, he doesn't blame you for what happened or hold it against you. Once he has declared for you, nothing stops him and nothing changes his mind. You're very fortunate to have that." She managed a smile. "You're incredibly fortunate to have that."

 

"I guess? I hope it's okay." He perked up a little bit. "Anyway, he's still showing me around and stuff, so it's not like he's been avoiding me. You should've seen the look on his face when I asked him to teach me to shoot. I don't think Sith are supposed to do that."

 

"No, they really aren't."

 

"He went with it, though."

 

"For you? Of course he would."

 

*

 

Later that day they went to one of the Aegis's practice rooms, a wide clear space with weapon racks around the edges.

 

"Where's Wynston, anyway?" said Colrand.

 

"Strategy session. He's crunching numbers and higher-order patterns with his analysts; I'm not going to call it boring but I'm really glad you're here to give me an out until the actual field assignment comes down."

 

"We going back home anytime soon?"

 

"Yes. I'll make time for it." The last thing she wanted to do was exile him from Dromund Kaas.

 

They moved while they spoke, heading to the center of the room, facing each other at a couple of paces. Ruth activated her two sabers, Colrand his one. Colrand's face twitched into a staring frown.

 

"Are you all right?" said Ruth

 

He blinked. "I think so. I just…"

 

He just wasn't enjoying drawing a weapon on her again. She walked around to stand beside him. "Why don't we do the old centering forms first. Calm and focused." She looked at his expression and lowered her saber. "I know it's hard, Cole. But you can come out of what happened stronger. I won't say it's easy, but it's going to be all right."

 

He stood very still for a little while. Then he deactivated his saber. "What was it like?" he said quietly. "Fighting something that big? And not getting, you know, squished like me."

 

"It was like pulling together every good thing I've ever known and then punching an ocean of the most caustic stuff I've ever felt with it. It took a lot of punching."

 

"I felt his presence in my head. It was huge. And old. And strong."

 

"Lucky for me I've known a lot of good things to bring to bear on it."

 

"Yeah." He examined her face. "You seemed okay after."

 

"I felt okay after. Tired, but still, we won. And any darkness that stays has its counterbalance. I have you. I have Wynston. It's hard to feel bad under those circumstances."

 

"Yeah," said Colrand. He seemed to be thinking of something else. "It would've been a lot worse without Wynston."

 

She smiled at him. "We won, Cole. You're safe, and things will be all right. You didn't disappoint any of us." She waited. "Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I just, swinging a lightsaber at you kind of, it caught me off guard."

 

"It probably won't feel great for a while. But you'll have to stay in practice to defend yourself."

 

"Right, because after that we've got so much to be scared of."

 

"A run-of-the-mill Sith thug might still come after you someday."

 

"You and Wynston or Father would kick his ***."

 

"We probably would. Still, it's better for you to stay in practice."

 

"All right. Centering." He activated his saber and placed himself in form-perfect stance. When he spoke again he sounded steadier. "It's gonna be all right."

 

 

 

 

There, that's the stuff I had in mind. Now just add a vignette of Larr Gith and Doc totally going to find someplace quiet to recover from the ordeal of the Emperor...just, wow, we shouldn't miss that one get-together tonight...but, resting will definitely happen after. It's on the to-do list. For real. :D

 

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D'awww cuteness.

 

Also, while it's nice to think that things would be smooth sailing for them from now on, there would have to be a hefty transition period for them both. I mean, they've been "together" but not actually co-habitating for like a decade and a half. Each has their own habits, ways they like things done, all that sort of thing that new couples have to work out. Plus I'd think it would bring up the whole question of Wynston's uh...personal methods of manipulation again (maybe I'm wrong, but I can't help but think that him coming home directly from an op like that would feel different than there-was-a-girl-last-week).

 

Nom nom speculation :D

 

Edit: Also, Cole's relationship with Wynston so far has been a friendly, supportive, but largely absent male figure. If they're actually together, wouldn't it change?

 

Nom nom more speculation lol.

 

Ack, ninja comment!

 

There's tons of stuff to speculate, I'm just not sure of the narrative merit of writing up "The Exciting Adventures of What Do You Mean You Squeeze the Toothpaste All Willy-Nilly Instead Of Squeezing From The Bottom?" Still, fun to think how they might settle in. :)

 

The sleeping-with-people thing is definitely gonna have to change. Keeping it out of your partner's face gets less practical when your partner's face moves in with you. Wynston alluded to it in the vaguest possible terms when he said that he had some leeway in picking assignments and the implementation thereof, along with some willingness to adapt the scope. Easily said; might take some getting used to in practice.

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Ack, ninja comment!

 

There's tons of stuff to speculate, I'm just not sure of the narrative merit of writing up "The Exciting Adventures of What Do You Mean You Squeeze the Toothpaste All Willy-Nilly Instead Of Squeezing From The Bottom?" Still, fun to think how they might settle in. :)

 

The sleeping-with-people thing is definitely gonna have to change. Keeping it out of your partner's face gets less practical when your partner's face moves in with you. Wynston alluded to it in the vaguest possible terms when he said that he had some leeway in picking assignments and the implementation thereof, along with some willingness to adapt the scope. Easily said; might take some getting used to in practice.

Ah, I wondered if that's what he was referring to. Thought it might be. At any rate, happy endings are all happy fuzzy goodness so I'm good here :)

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Epilogue part 5, subtitled I'm no longer even pretending this is tying off the story as such, I'm just posting random post-main-plot thoughts. Somehow this became 1900 words. :eek: It is set a few weeks after Lodestone ends, immediately after Wynston gets to crawl out of the tank and show Ruth around his corner of the Aegis.

 

 

 

 

"You have possessions," Ruth said, marveling.

 

Wynston's quarters on the Aegis were spare: a console desk, a large bed, a narrow closet, a wide low supply chest, and a shelf. His generic travel bag was at the foot of the bed. The shelf had a few nonessential items, and that was what Ruth was staring at: some flimsy print books, a red crystal cradled by a glassy stone stand, a painted square the size of a dinner plate. A gilded nameplate as from an office desk. An unadorned hilt. A jeweled brooch. A small pin with an Imperial crest, and beside it a tiny box.

 

Wynston nodded agreement. "I have some."

 

"All this time, I have never seen anything of yours but the bag, the gear, and your ship."

 

"What you see there is the rest of my inventory. I don't keep much I can't use."

 

Ruth approached and raised a hand to not-quite-touch the painted piece. "What's this?"

 

If it were anyone else he would give a casual non-answer or else kick them out for having the temerity to examine and question these things. But it was Ruth. "I got that on Voss," he said.

 

"Your first wife?"

 

Of course she would intuit that. He smiled, hoping she didn't mean anything hard by it. "The very same. She was studying to be an artist. When I married her to gain the Voss privileges I needed, she gave up any social path that a traditional marriage would've offered her. To this day by some Voss standard she's supposedly not an artist, but she crafts things and makes a living selling them to outsiders. After I left it wouldn't have been wise to stay in touch, but I sent someone to find and buy some of her work. I still do, from time to time, and have the results distributed to museums elsewhere. She sacrificed her whole future for the mission knowing she won't see the results herself, just because it was the right thing to do. The least I could do was see that she'd have the means to live." He took a few steps toward the shelf. "I can put it out of sight if you prefer. I can't imagine mementos of that time I married someone else, even as a fake, are something you want."

 

"Don't. It's your room. Actually I was thinking, I don't have to move in here right away. I've been staying just down the hall, if it makes sense for us to be there while we get used to each other. I don't want to drown you in clutter."

 

He stood there, thinking. "You're not going to think that's a problem?" he said cautiously.

 

"No, I think it makes sense. I just barged in here, Wynston, we can take some parts slow."

 

He would question whether all this time weren't slow enough already, but she was right. It was new, having her here, and he was used to this room having nothing but his gear and that shelf. "Thank you," he said, and came to kiss her. "We'll share where you've set up, then. I hardly ever sleep in here anyway, I've always preferred to be with you." He slipped an arm around her waist and let her keep looking at the shelf. "You are welcome here no matter what."

 

Ruth smiled, but her main focus was on the assortment of items before her. She picked up the battered hilt. "This is a lightsaber," she said.

 

Ah. "Yes."

 

"May I?"

 

"I'd rather you didn't." If he never saw that one activated again he'd be happy. She shot him a curious look. "That belonged to Ardun Kothe," he told her. "The SIS man."

 

"The failed Jedi."

 

"Yes. It's a reminder of everything that went wrong in that operation."

 

She gingerly put it back.

 

"It's the only thing I've kept from that time," said Wynston. From anything to do with that mission to Republic space and the fallout of the IX serum after. "I think what little remained of the idealist in him would've been happy with the work I've done to stabilize things. What lot remained of the victory-at-all-costs man would hate it, which is one more reason to hold on to it."

 

She moved on, tracing the edges of the blood-red crystal being displayed on a carved piece of volcanic rock. "And this?"

 

"From Belsavis. I was vague in describing the World Razer to you once upon a time. I couldn't afford to let your employer even think about exploring a power that might seem promising as a weapon but would end up as total destruction. I'm free to elaborate on it now, or when we get time. Suffice to say it was a much larger threat than I let on. I sealed the thing beneath a redirected lava flow. I came back a couple of years later to check on things and took those stones – crystal and stand both – as keepsakes before I left."

 

"This brooch is from that mystic we spoke to out on Tatooine a few years ago."

 

"Yes. Without our interference he might have succeeded in that insane Force plan. I'm not sure the galaxy would have survived that." He leaned into her. "If you hadn't been there I'm also not sure Vector would've survived his welcoming committee."

 

"It worked out," she said, squeezing his waist. "What about this?" She didn't quite touch the nameplate. "Rayl Noss?"

 

"That's Czerka's type face," he said. "I hesitated to bring something of Czerka's here, but in the end it was good for something. A lot of the time I invested in Czerka over the years went into bringing that one identity up to vice president of exotech acquisitions. That was a very large web to weave. Worth every minute for what I managed to do from there. So those three are my grand-scale disaster prevention trophies. Call me egotistical."

 

"I won't."

 

"I would've taken some memento from the Emperor's fortress but I was a little preoccupied. The scars will have to do."

 

She squeezed his waist again and kissed his shoulder. "Do you have anything from Rentor? Your family?"

 

"No." The word hung in the air for a second before he shrugged. "When I joined Imperial Intelligence I threw away everything but the shirt on my back, and I replaced the shirt as soon as I had the means. It took me a while to start accumulating things after that."

 

She nodded and flipped open a pinned-together booklet printed with dense text. "Ciphers?"

 

"It doesn't correspond to anything readable. Those are command codes from some weapon systems that were never fired."

 

"There have been a few of those, love. You'll have to specify."

 

"It's a little of everything, the repetition's what gave me the idea to collect them." He was happy with every single one of those missions. "Every digit in there is a life or a thousand that some warlord didn't get the satisfaction of push-buttoning out of existence."

 

Having finished flipping through the mismatched set of pages she reached a grubby, dogeared little volume. It had a couple of dark streaks on the cover. "Is this…blood?"

 

"It is," Wynston said shortly.

 

"Who did this belong to?"

 

A life that wasn't saved. "An old partner. One of my first, back when I was starting out in those last couple of years prior to the attack on Coruscant."

 

"That would be the partner who taught you dejarik. And who…." She didn't continue.

 

"That's the one. He carried this with him everywhere. It's poetry, I don't even read the language, but he loved the stuff. I've wondered sometimes whether there's something in here that can explain why he turned to the other side. That explains why in the end I had to kill him." She set the book down hastily while Wynston looked at the wall. "But I never had the time to translate it; there was too much that needed doing." He forced a grin. "You must have noticed, Ruth, I have a very poor history with partners."

 

"But we already had our fight." She stroked his cheek. "Everything after that's easy, right?"

 

He covered her hand with his own and, drawing her in with a hand cradling her neck, kissed her. He told himself he wasn't anxious. Under the Emperor's control she hadn't managed to kill him, and he hadn't had to hurt her, much. Anything was too much, and yet she was back here, on his side. At his side.

 

He felt steadier after he opened his eyes to look into hers. She clung to him, gracious enough to leave the physical question of who was comforting whom ambiguous.

 

"Are you all right?" she said gently.

 

He nodded. "That was then," he said, looking at the book she had put down. Then back to her: "This is now."

 

She smiled encouragingly and turned back to trail her fingers toward the next item on the shelf, the little electrum pin with the Imperial crest. "So what's this from?"

 

Better things. "The Minister of Intelligence gave that to me. We keep our decorations secret and rare, but after I left old Imperial Intelligence he said he was free to do something in recognition. After the years I spent under his tutelage, and after all he worked for and all he assisted me in accomplishing, that's worth almost everything else here put together."

 

She flipped open the tiny box. "And this is for…oh." She poked at the velvety cushion on which rested a tiny tooth. "What's this?"

 

"All right," he said uneasily, "that one's just going to sound strange. It's Cole's from several years back. He gave it up voluntarily, we were playing in the yard when it came out on its own. It would've been appropriate to dispose of it, I know."

 

"But you held on. To this, of all things?"

 

"I thought it was interesting. Chiss don't grow milk teeth, I've only been around to see it in humans. In Colrand. Seeing him grow is just remarkable. I find it astonishing that right this minute your child is running around somewhere out there, rapidly growing up in his own right. I never particularly valued population growth for its own sake, but the thought that there's someone out there with something of you in him…well. It's meaningful, that's all."

 

She closed the box, put it back in its place. "I'm glad you care for him. He likes you."

 

"Habitual face-punching notwithstanding." Wynston grinned as he clasped her hands. "A remarkable son of an extraordinary mother."

 

She squeezed his hands. "Thank you for showing me all this."

 

"You already know every story here. That's the amazing part. I'm…I'm sorry I don't have anything of yours. It isn't for lack of affection." It was because she was with him everywhere, no matter how far he traveled alone.

 

"I'll count Cole's entry for partial credit," she said, smiling. "Plus I'm about to dump half a ton of my things in the former guest room, so you'll have all the reminders your cleaning droids can handle." She looked around the room again. "You have possessions," she repeated. "That aren't ships, weapons, or tech. You still surprise me sometimes, Wynston."

 

He had showed her all the good and interesting things about himself a long time ago, but if this amused her he wasn't going to complain. "I'm not supposed to stay on my feet much longer, darling. Why don't I bring my bag to our room now?" He looked around once more. "I only sleep here when I can't have you."

 

 

 

 

 

The only part of this whole litany that has been mentioned in previous writings is, well, the Emperor-killing that was the subject of Lodestone, along with the Voss marriage described in canon. The mystic whose local area defenses came close to blowing Vector's shuttle out of the sky succeeded in downing that shuttle in canon, though I never wrote up the story. Ruth's ground support prevented it in Lodestone.

 

The World Razer is a Republic Belsavis quest; I stole it here because I'm bad at coming up with galactic threats on my own but I knew from RMC canon he's got three definite galaxy-saving credits.

 

It is very Wynston to say "Let's not just flood the old place with new things, let's make a fresh start. Again. Cutting out all previous stuff. Again." Story of his life. I suspect that in time he'll bring those trophies into their shared room, but he's not there yet.

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Epilogue, part 6: Second Thoughts, or, kabeone said I could rip open Wynston's psyche and pull out all the things. This poor man. In prime universe he went through his life in blissful ignorance and/or denial of a ton, a ton, of this stuff.

 

 

 

L+ 15 years 7 months

 

Ruth was a heavy sleeper, but she opened her eyes one night when the door opened to admit Wynston. He let it close slowly and quietly. A smell wafted in with him.

 

Ruth sniffed. "Is that…whisky?"

 

He stopped cold. "In point of fact, it is. Can I interest you in some?"

 

"You don't usually drink alone." She had never known he did.

 

"I can't tell if that was a yes or a no."

 

"It's a no, love. Is something wrong?"

 

"No. Which is itself rather unusual, as I was just thinking."

 

"You're expecting things to be wrong?" Ruth rubbed at her sleepy eyes. "Wynston, what time is it?"

 

"A little after three."

 

"And what is going on?"

 

"At the moment? You are lying in my bed. Our bed. We, jointly, have a bed."

 

"We've been sharing a bed for quite some time."

 

"Not like this. I mean, six months is a respectable run for partnered life to date…I suppose that's the point."

 

His matter-of-factness didn't bother her much, but the alcohol did. "You're starting to worry me."

 

"Don't, darling. I was just thinking."

 

"Talk to me."

 

Wynston moved in the darkness to lean someplace well away from the bed. His voice was low and pensive. "I've had partners before," he said. "Close ones, not as close as you, but all day every day company for months at a time. I get restless, Ruth. It gets crowded, stifling. The quirks get old, the predictable things get older. I want space, I want something new. I can't stand to be tied down. That's just how I am, it's one of the reasons I chose this way of life. Even with my oldest contacts, the only reason I'm still on speaking terms with Vector is he goes off to his respectable job for a while every few weeks. To be trapped inevitably goes from tolerable to chafing to torture as time goes on."

 

Her heart sank, but she thought he might be willing to work something out. "Then I can go for now," she said.

 

"That's the thing. It isn't happening this time. Maybe it's just that I'm in love with you, I don't know. I feared that might not be enough. But…here I am, and here you are, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be." He lapsed into silence for a little while. "What we had before, my coming to you and then going again. I know you accepted it, but for me it was more than nice. It was ideal exactly because I could leave."

 

Ruth's stomach twisted. "Is that how you decided when to go away? When you got bored?"

 

"I never got bored with you. But I lived in terror of the day I would. I tried not to get attached, and that failed, and that just meant that the inevitable ending would be even worse. So I left before it happened. Work was a good excuse; really it was the kindest thing to do. What do you think is worse: limiting our passion to maybe a tenth of the time, or sticking around only to turn around one day and say 'On second thought I'm tired of doing this, goodbye'?"

 

"Why were you so sure that would happen?"

 

"I told you I get restless with the work partners." His inhalation hissed a little. He held the breath for a moment, then spoke. "And there was a girl, a very long time ago. I was very young and clumsier I am now. I broke her heart and I didn't understand why I did it. One day I just didn't want to be there anymore; I couldn't explain or excuse it. My feelings – and, Ruth, they were deep, or so I thought – they ended, and hers didn't, and I still haven't forgotten the look on her face, the way she was after. What I did to her. Since then I disengage early, before unreliable feelings can take hold.

 

"I wanted to duck out early with you. Even before I loved you I admired you, your ideals, your resolve, your humor. You. I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to have fun with you, help you if I could, but avoid getting your hopes up. Then leave. But I found that the only thing I wanted more than leaving was coming back. That complicated things. I'm drawn to you. I always was. I couldn't stop that, I could only try to compensate, to keep it from failing.

 

"Now I find myself in something of a bind. This seems to be lasting even when we're up close like this. But if it does just stop one day, then everything we've shared was a cruel waste of your time. And if it doesn't, then it would've been safe to stay earlier, and every day we spent apart was a cruel waste of your time."

 

"That's an awfully harsh way to look at a very good relationship."

 

"Maybe."

 

"A relationship that makes me happy, Wynston. That makes us both happy, and has for many years. I'm not sure how much of the bitterness here is the whisky talking. I wish you hadn't done that."

 

"Honestly, I don't do it much. It's only when things go wrong and I can't talk to you or Vector."

 

"You shouldn't."

 

"Ruth, I've had a relationship with this a lot longer than I've had one with you. Albeit on much less friendly terms."

 

"So are things going wrong now? Is that why you're up at this hour drinking?"

 

"No. I just wanted to see whether it looked different from here. It doesn't. I'm still in love with you and I still want to stay." He took a deep breath. "Amazing what one finds to think about at three in the morning. I didn't mean to get melodramatic."

 

"I never knew all this."

 

"No. This is the one I kept to myself."

 

"Come here."

 

The taste of whisky was sharp and unpleasant. She kissed him anyway. She wrapped her arms around him, letting his feverish heat warm her, and felt a little surge of happiness when he relaxed in her arms.

 

"I love you," she told him. "Everything you are. Everything you do. I don't know if that makes a difference but it's true."

 

"And I love you," he said. "That changes everything."

 

"If you ever want space, let me know." It hurt to say it, but if he needed it he needed it.

 

"If I ever want space I'm not sure I can face you again."

 

"Of course you can face me." She kissed him again, and he was warm and close and utterly good.

 

"I don't think of it this way all the time," he said softly. "Being with you like this, every day is paradise. When I invited you here there wasn't a thought in my mind but wanting you. No regrets, darling. I was just…this occurred to me recently and I had to think about it." He dove to hide his face against her neck. "Melodramatic. Stars, when I was away I could sort this sort of thing out myself without worrying you."

 

"I want to hear it."

 

"You want to hear everything. We should sleep, darling. I'll be here in the morning. And you will. And I'm going to be completely, insanely happy, again, because you do that to me. If that ever stops it'll be my fau–"

 

She cut him off with another kiss. He returned it in a way that clearly stated he was willing to end the conversation on this note instead. Then he subsided to rest his head on her chest, and she slid her fingers through his hair and went to sleep. If he was still worried in the morning she wanted to be rested and awake to reassure him no matter what.

 

 

 

 

I very strongly feel that unreliable men don't magically reform when they meet the right girl, so I'm not sure what to think of this. Except that separate field assignments every now and then might be to their benefit.

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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I very strongly feel that unreliable men don't magically reform when they meet the right girl, so I'm not sure what to think of this. Except that separate field assignments every now and then might be to their benefit.

No, not magically reform, but people do change over time. Haven't met one who hasn't. Him basing getting bored on a youthful relationship negates the growth he's done over time. And these two have had plenty of time. Plus there's the fact that while Wynston is sure that he would have gotten bored in all other cases (and maybe he would have) he has been avoiding permanent relationships for so long that he may have surprised himself somewhere else as well.

 

I thought his drunk overly pessimistic view of wasting time was interesting - drunk Wynston is moody and prone to melodrama lol.

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Epilogue, part 7: Sap sappety sap sap. Immediately following on the previous story.

 

 

 

When Ruth rolled over to kiss Wynston in the morning, he gave her a returning kiss and a distracted smile, then spent some time contemplating the ceiling.

 

"How are you feeling?" she prompted.

 

"Talkative," he said, and seemed to wince at the sound of his own voice. "Apparently." After a few more moments he raised his eyebrows, sighed, and sat up. "Sorry about all that. I promise you I don't do that very often at all. I won't do it again."

 

"I'm glad. Are you feeling better about being here?"

 

"Who said I felt bad about being here?"

 

"You did. About four hours ago."

 

"I was saying the opposite of that, darling, I just made it sound bad." He looked around. "Do we stock painkillers in here?"

 

"…You're making it sound bad again."

 

"That isn't you. It's just the hangover."

 

"Really? All these years I thought you were immune."

 

"No, it just takes a lot more than I ever consume when other people are looking." He looked at his hands, then at her, and smiled thinly. "It was stupid of me. Give me half an hour, I'll be ready for work."

 

"Where are we going today?" On the rare occasions when his mood was off and the rarer ones when raw affection didn't serve to lift it, the chance to describe something about the job usually did the trick.

 

He was moving now, heading over to get a glass of water. "Abridon," he said. "I'll need you on guard and potential slicing support while I play diplomat as a representative of the Crescent Brotherhood. Estimated sixty percent chance they'll dislike what I have to say. But we can show up a little early to look around; their government center is actually legendary for its beauty. They have gardens there that you should love. I never really looked at them the last time I was there, but I think you'll like them."

 

"Sounds promising." Ruth sat up, but rather than going anywhere she sat and watched Wynston as he went about locating a couple of pills and then getting dressed.

 

He stopped halfway through buttoning his jacket. "Darling, when you look at me like that…"

 

"Yes?" she said innocently.

 

"It makes me suspect that you like me."

 

"So I'm not making progress on the sabacc-face front?"

 

"Not even slightly." He left his jacket half open and took two quick steps to lean in and kiss her. "Which is why when I trigger a touch of actual revulsion I'll do something about it." He smiled a little at her expression. "It was only when you mentioned the drink. You listen no matter what, but I'll keep the confessions sober from here on in. They probably turn out less bleak that way anyway." He straightened. "Now. Let's go find something beautiful."

 

"Already there," she told him.

 

He gave her a reproving look. "For work."

 

"Still already there, I thought."

 

"We have to actually leave this room for this exercise, darling."

 

"I know." She stood, keeping just inches between them, and spent a moment trying to reassemble her train of thought while they looked at each other.

 

He smiled in genuine joy and went about preparing for the day.

 

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Random stuff, roughly six and a half years into the alt timeline:

 

 

 

Cole was sleeping peacefully, the house was quiet, and Ruth and Wynston were in bed, idly talking.

 

"What sort of places did you live growing up, anyway?" Ruth asked.

 

"I've told you, sweet. I'm from a mining colony on Rentor. I left for a small city on Atalan VII with my parents when I was ten. I moved on to Dromund Kaas alone about a year after that."

 

"Why didn't they come with you?"

 

He shrugged. "They didn't want to."

 

She stroked his hair. "I'm curious. You know all about my family, my home growing up."

 

He smiled and turned his head to kiss her wrist. "I like your story much more than mine."

 

There were some subjects he avoided by almost invisibly redirecting the conversation, and some he avoided by playing noncommittal for quite some time while he worked to find a smooth way to deflect the whole matter. He had done it with this in particular before. She pushed on. "The three-sentence summary is all I've heard of your early life, ever. Every time the subject's come up."

 

"Yes. I'm not sure you truly know what you're asking, sweet."

 

"I'm asking about you. Can I do that?"

 

"Of course you can." He was casual now, clearly trying to relax. He took a deep breath. "Ask away."

 

"Why did your parents send you to Dromund Kaas alone?"

 

"They didn't send me. I left. They were happy to get jobs on Atalan; I don't think they could afford to take all of us any further anyway."

 

"'All of you'? Was it more than just you and your parents?"

 

"I had two sisters. And, at that point, two surviving brothers."

 

Ruth gaped. "You have siblings?"

 

"Yes. I never saw them after I joined Intelligence."

 

"And you never thought to mention them?"

 

"Darling, I would deny having parents, too, if I thought any questioners would believe me."

 

She knew he wasn't joking. "But why?"

 

"I left that life."

 

"Why, Wynston?"

 

"Well," he said. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. She listened closely. "For one thing," he said, "the family name was an impediment. Chiss society is rigidly structured, and a hereditary laborer family doesn't buy you much." He sat up, leaving a sudden unpleasant rush of cold air in his wake, and rested his forearms on his knees. "I think this ties into something you've wondered numerous times in the past, which is why I so easily accept being treated like 'alien scum' here in the Empire. The answer is that I will take the treatment an Imperial affords an alien over the career options available to a Chiss citizen, and the treatment a respectable Chiss affords a near-casteless countryman, any day. At least it's possible to earn the Imperial's respect through my own actions."

 

In a way there was more bitterness in that matter-of-factness than he had expressed in any regular frustration. "Oh," she said weakly. "I never knew."

 

"Of course you didn't, I never told you. But you wonder. I answer."

 

She sat up to lean in and kiss him, a slow and gentle kiss. He didn't want to keep talking, but she wanted to know. There would be time for silence when he went away for work again; for now, she wanted him talking. "Was it really very bad on Rentor?"

 

He raised his eyebrows. "Not in the ways you think. The absence of social mobility was not an everyday concern."

 

She fell back to rest on her side. "Tell me about it."

 

"Well, the colony was on an iceberg – that's most of what Rentor is, ocean and icebergs. There are mineral deposits in a number of them. I worked in an aphosite mine there."

 

"Worked? You were ten. Even for a Chiss that's young."

 

"Yes, it is. The whole family worked; I started in the mines when I was seven. Being a child was an advantage. I'm smaller than the average human; I'm tiny among Chiss. As a boy I was the best there was at placing probes and extracting rocks in crevices where even our droids couldn't operate well."

 

Professional pride. Recalling, from being seven years old, professional pride. That was Wynston. "Mm," she said affectionately. "You're sneaky."

 

"I am. I always was. Mining had its advantages. It was very good preparation for the less glamorous physical work I do. For one thing it got me into superb physical conditioning, in spite of the suboptimal nutrition. For another it gave a thorough practical education. When you work down there you learn not to be afraid of the dark or of enclosed spaces. You stop minding dirt. You develop a hell of a work ethic."

 

His smile was thoughtful and weak now, his red eyes diffuse as he looked somewhere past her. "You learn not to mind temperature conditions. In the upper chambers you have to keep moving or the cold will kill you; down below it gets humid and hot and you have to keep moving anyway. You learn to pick out very fine sensory distinctions – the smell that'll kill you, the distant whistle that'll let you go home. You learn that there are subtleties even in a blind world that's closed to an inch around you on every side, and knowing those subtleties completely is what determines whether you'll get out in one piece.

 

"You learn the necessity of order and regulations. You learn teamwork and communication in an extremely concrete sense, and you learn to work with care. You keep the mine shaft clear and correctly supported or people die. You keep fires from breaking out, or people die. You keep the equipment and gas sensors working, or people die. You prioritize doing the job over casting blame when accidents and mistakes happen, or people die. Then you learn that even if you do get everything right, life is short." He paused, clasping his hands tightly. "At the same time, you learn that the quota doesn't lessen any just because things went wrong or someone around you failed or you're hurt. There are consequences for slowing down. The mission goes on; you keep moving. And you are always ready to work in the morning." He closed his eyes. "There is never an excuse for not being ready to work in the morning."

 

When he didn't say anything else, Ruth slipped her arms around him and pulled him close, kissing his hair. She heard a little smile in his voice when he spoke again. "The Empire was a step up," he said nonchalantly.

 

"Hm," she said, trying to think of something comforting, or at least lighthearted. "Even with all the awful Sith running around?"

 

"Especially with certain Sith running around." He turned a little to meet her compassionate concern with a smile. "We all have to come from somewhere, darling. My particular background had the advantage of making me a brilliant worker who is very, very grateful to be doing the work I do.

 

"That's the great part. There is opportunity here, and was, even for an alien. If you're clever and determined, if you catch the right eye, you can make something of yourself in the Empire. Merit earns you something once you figure out where to apply it." His expression lit up as he held her gaze. "There was a great deal I never saw before I came to Dromund Kaas. I don't just mean Intelligence training. Simply socializing with strangers from all walks of life. I like that part; people are much more interesting than even the most nuanced of rocks. And then there are simple things like sheltering in a clean, well-lighted place after a challenging day. Civilization, Ruth, and all the marvels I could talk my way into. Do you understand now why I'm so passionate about it?"

 

She took his hand and kissed it. "Much more than I did before." Not that his enthusiasm for the Empire had been a problem to begin with. It was one of the things she loved about him.

 

"And then, as if life weren't promising enough already, I met you." He pushed her down to the mattress and warmed into a much happier smile. "Why would I ever dwell on where I came from, when I have this now?"

 

She was a little glad, a little troubled. "Don't you ever think your family might like to know about your success?" Even knowing the least highly classified tenth of his accomplishments would make them proud.

 

His smile vanished. "No." Then, after a moment's hesitation, "Ruth, blood matters to you because yours was kind. I don't miss mine, nor do they have any valid claim on me. My name is Wynston. I am an Imperial. That's all."

 

"Did you have another name?" she asked softly.

 

"Please, don't."

 

It was rare for him to make that plea. Ruth stayed quiet.

 

"My name is Wynston," he repeated. "That's the name I made, the one I've earned. I've thought about leaving even that behind, but I can't be just a Cipher to you. So I'm Wynston. And if I sprang out of thin air twenty-two years ago…forgive me, darling, but I'd rather keep it that way."

 

She drew him down to rest against her and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "All right," she said. "I…thank you, for telling me all this. I love you. Who you are now, and who you were before."

 

"Of course you…" he paused, and when he spoke again he was quieter, less dismissive. Just as warm. "I know you do. That's just another thing I could never have imagined back then." He kissed her softly. "When I tell you how remarkable your love is? The cynical definitions I knew were learned via political training and, perhaps, jaundiced observation; prior to that I had seen precisely zero examples of any other definition. You were and are utterly unique in my experience." He kissed her again, then tucked his head under her chin and relaxed. "How is it you get me to talk this much?"

 

"I'm a master interrogator, love."

 

"No, you're not. You ask nicely."

 

"And then you tell me things. It counts."

 

He chuckled. "I love you."

 

"And you came a very, very long way to tell me so." She nuzzled his hair. "I'm glad you did."

 

He broke once more into a bright irresistible smile. "So am I."

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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