Jaina awoke from a dream filled with haunted green eyes and a sense of
longing. Blinking slowly, she opened her eyes and remained still as her
stare focused on the flickering embers of the glistening fire. She hadn't
been able to think of anything else from the very moment she awoke to find
herself wrapped in Jag's arms, his embrace strong and comforting. He had
taken such good care of her, tending to her injured ribs with the
gentleness and confidence of a medic. He had talked to her quietly in an
effort to help divert her attention from the pain that gripped her entire
body. He had shown the compassion she always knew was there.
Something had changed in him, however, since that moment. When she woke this morning he was standing at the window he had stripped the curtains from, his stare focused on an invisible point outside, seeing beyond the beauty and the hazard of the snowstorm. She had not moved for fear of taking him away from his reverie. Jaina closed her eyes again as the memory of how Jag looked at that moment came back to her. He had been leaning against the cool glass, one arm at his side, the other in a pocket of the black pants he had slipped on. The muscle shirt he wore hung loosely at the waist and he was barefoot against the cold stone floor. His hair had been tousled from sleep and the white streak that followed the scar back into the hairline stood out against the dimness of the room.
Jag's eyes had been haunted, his tired features betraying the fact he had slept little that night. Something had troubled him, had brought him deep inside himself and threatened to consume him with the sheer power of it. She had sat there in silence, watching him, wishing she knew what had been so dominant, so intriguing about his thoughts.
Jaina.
A smile touched her lips as she opened her eyes, again focusing on the flames. She had gently reached out through the Force to touch his mind, to see if perhaps she might be able to help him with whatever troubled him. He had saved her life; it was the least she could do for him. Her connection with Jag was tentative, something that would only grow stronger over time, but it was enough to let her feel what he was feeling, hear what he was thinking.
And he had been thinking about her.
He was not angry at her for defying his orders. Jag was not upset over their current predicament. He was not blaming her for what had happened. He was not cursing her very existence or wishing that she had never come along with him.
He was trying to sort out what exactly he felt about her.
Jaina pressed her right hand gently down on the floor and pushed herself up. The pain flared slightly, but fortunately the spray splints Jag had applied stabilized her injury somewhat, making movement a little more bearable. Pushing the blanket down, she eased herself up from the floor, adjusting Jag's shirt in doing so. The material fell just over her midsection, leaving most of her legs exposed and Jaina immediately felt the chill of the room. It wasn't as cold as before and she could feel the warmth of the fire slowly heating the room. She stretched a little and felt her muscles ache with the effort. Her neck, back, arms, legs, everything throbbed from being immobile on the floor. Jaina ran her fingers through her hair in an effort to comb it a little. She cringed as she snagged a couple tangles, straightened them out so she looked somewhat presentable.
She noticed two things. The first was Jag. He was sitting at the table, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded over his chest, his head leaning back against the chair. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.
The second was that Jag had found some provisions in his exploration of the house. On the chest near the door sat a large cast iron pot, several wooden utensils, some dishes, two worn dusty cushions, and what appeared to be canned goods. There were several smaller objects that she did not recognize from where she was standing.
Jaina turned her stare back to the table. Jag had arranged their belongings in a way that would allow them to dry. Her lightsaber was still attached to the utility belt and she was thankful that it hadn't gotten lost in the crash.
Tiptoeing across the room, Jaina paused long enough to look toward the exposed window. The sound of the wind and snow beating against the glass and the house were a constant now and no longer surprised her with the strength of it. The storm was not ready to ease its fury and they were stuck on Drognan until the weather slackened and it was safe to venture outdoors.
She stopped next to Jag and looked down at him. Was it possible that he looked more handsome in sleep than he did while awake? She never would have thought so, but looking at him now, the serenity on his face... She wondered if his dreams were the only place he felt he could be free.
Hesitating for a moment, Jaina gently placed her fingers on the scar, mimicking the gesture she'd executed before when he had told her the story of how the marking came into being. Jag did not wake up, however he sighed deeply, the corners of his mouth twitching briefly in his sleep.
*Next time you have a conversation with him that doesn't involve piloting skill or battle tactics, don't just listen to what he says, Jaina. Hear what he means. Feel him. You may be surprised.*
She had heeded Kyp's advice when she had realized that Jag was thinking about her. She listened not with her ears, but through the Force. The intensity of Jag's thoughts almost paralysed her. He was confused by his emotions, uncertain if what he was feeling was real. It had surprised her to sense fear in him and Jaina had found herself wondering what kind of relationships he'd had in the past that would make him question whether he wanted one with her.
Jaina's fingers danced lightly over the scar, then trailed a delicate path down along his cheek, curling her fingers to rest her knuckles against him. His skin was smooth beneath her touch, save for the slight prickle of a day's growth of facial hair.
She had wondered why it was so important to her that Jag reciprocate her feelings. She had been confused by her own emotions, had wondered if it was even worth thinking about. After all the heartache she had suffered in recent weeks, was there really a point in getting to know Jag, to understand him and how he felt about her when everything could change suddenly? When this war still threatened to take someone away from her?
After what had happened the day before, accepting how she felt about Jag was more important than ever.
So, she took Kyp's advice and listened through the Force for the truth. Their conversation had been short but it was all Jaina needed. She knew how Jag felt about her when he'd looked over at her from the window. She noticed how his body stiffened when she touched his scar. She saw it when he opened his eyes and looked at her, felt it when his trembling fingers removed hers from his shoulder. It sang from every part of him. It captivated her mind, captured her heart, and ran to the deepest corners of her soul. It was as if a light had been switched on, illuminating all the darkness shrouding her.
The only thing was, Jag was not ready to admit it to himself. He was not prepared to give so much of himself to one person after spending a lifetime locked in solitude. He was experiencing emotions foreign to him and he needed the time to adjust to them. She would not pressure him, though. Jaina understood that whatever may happen between them had to begin when Jag was ready to accept his feelings and not a moment sooner.
That didn't mean, however, that she would shy away from her own emotions. Jaina's hand fell from his face to his arm and rested gently against the warmth of his skin. They had been granted an unexpected break from the war, an interlude in which the pain and fear and contempt did not exist and they were free to be themselves.
Her smile faded slightly as she leaned closer to Jag. *You may not be ready to admit how you feel about me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to ignore it. By the time we leave Drognan, Jagged Fel, you're going to know exactly how I feel. You're going to know exactly what you mean to me.*
Closing her eyes, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips a whisper against the curve of the scar.
One of Jag's arms fell from his chest, falling to his side. Jaina stepped back and pulled out the chair next to his. Sitting down carefully in the chair, she watched quietly as Jag slowly began to wake from his slumber.
He blinked several times, opening his eyes, then slowly sat up in the chair. He must have been sleeping in that position for a while for when he sat up, Jag grimaced and stretched his legs. Leaning forward against the table, he folded his arms against the surface then slowly turned to look at her.
Jaina knew in that moment he would always have the power to take her breath away.
"You shouldn't be sitting up like that." he commented, his voice concerned.
"You shouldn't be sleeping like that." she replied, giving him her sweetest smile.
Jag nodded, a small grin tracing his lips. "How do you feel?"
"I'm still a little sore but not as much as before and even after sleeping for what seems like forever, I'm still weary."
"It will take you a few days to get your strength back. Your body suffered quite the trauma."
Jaina pressed her lips together in a grim line and folded her hands in her lap. "How do you feel?"
Sighing heavily, Jag ran his fingers quickly through his hair, slumping a little toward the table. "My leg doesn't hurt as much as it did earlier and I feel like I could sleep for a week. Other than that, I'm fine."
"Were you injured when you landed?" she asked, feeling a little guilty for not asking him earlier if he was all right. She hadn't noticed the limp the night before and when he walked this morning, it was prominent. She hoped he wasn't trying to keep any other injuries from her, that he was ignoring his own well-being to take care of her.
Jag shook his head. "No. When I was carrying you from the lake to this place, I lost my footing and fell and I pulled a muscle when I landed."
She leaned forward a little, mindful of her constantly aching ribs, and placed a hand on his arm. Jag straightened a little, matching her stare. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you."
When he didn't pull away from her touch, Jaina kept her hand on his arm. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so much that she couldn't share because he wasn't ready to hear it. So, she opted for the simplest one, something he rightly deserved to hear.
Jaina thought about her words quickly, then took a breath. "Jag, I owe you an apology. I never should have deviated from the coordinates that you gave me before we left Borleias. If I had only followed your orders, we wouldn't be here." *Not that I mind in the least that I'm stranded here with you.*
He folded a hand over hers and Jaina's heart skipped a beat at the simple gesture. She didn't know if he was aware he was doing it, but his thumb was slowly rubbing her skin, giving her goose-bumps. "You don't need to apologize. These things happen."
"No." she shook her head. "I disobeyed your orders. If I had stayed on the course you had set, if I had joined you after you had directed me too, we wouldn't be here. This is all my fault and for that, I apologize."
"I don't blame you and we don't need to discuss this any further. It's forgotten."
"We can't forget what happened, Jag. When we get back to Borleias, I'll have a lot of explaining to do and you'll have to tell Wedge what happened. I disobeyed orders from a superior officer and for that I'll be reprimanded." She looked away, turning her gaze toward the windows. The thought of being punished by Wedge for her actions was unbearable. She hadn't even flown with Twins Suns Squadron yet and because she was too stubborn for her own good, she was probably going to be grounded for a little while as punishment.
"Uncle Wedge cannot punish you for something that did not happen."
Jaina turned back to him. Jag's brows were narrowed in deep thought and she sensed a surprising tenacity of his own surface.
"Considering the fact that when we left Borleias we had two ships and now we only have one... I think someone is going to realize that something went wrong."
"Only if we tell them something went wrong."
She stared at him and wondered if he had injured his head upon landing and neglected to tell her. Before she could ask him just that, Jag continued.
"When we exited hyperspace, we came into a mine field. You sustained critical damage and were forced to make a crash landing. I also suffered some damage and was forced to land and because of Drognan's inclement weather, we had to wait for the skies to clear before we could make a safe departure."
Jaina nodded slowly. "That's not the whole truth though. I crashed because I disobey---"
"Your X-Wing is nothing more than pile of scrap metal somewhere on this planet," Jag interrupted. "Your ships logs are lost. I can alter my ship's records to reflect our story, omitting all radio contact that we had prior to your descent into the atmosphere." He paused, nodding slowly to himself. "That could work because I can always make it look like my ship's logs got scrambled when I got hit by the ion mine---"
Jaina was confused. "Ion mine?"
"I'll explain later. I don't suspect anyone will question us about what really happened, but it's best to make sure my records reflect our story just in case my uncle wants to take a look at them." He seemed quite pleased with himself and grinned. His eyes never left hers and Jaina thought she saw a mischievous twinkle in them.
"You can't do that, Jag." she finally said, removing her hand from his and placing it on the table. "I can't ask you to lie to your uncle."
"You're not asking and I'm not lying to him. I'm simply omitting the insignificant parts."
"But why? It doesn't make any sense."
Jag leaned back in the chair, his stare still focused on her. "I may not know the extent of my uncle's plans, but I do realize that you're an important part of whatever he's plotting. If I were to tell him what happened and he was forced to punish you, it could affect the overall outcome of what happens at Borleias and I'm not going to be responsible for that." He folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, haven't you suffered enough on this trip?"
Once again he had surprised her. Within the last twenty-four hours he was showing her little glimpses of the man who truly existed, the one who was not so severe and arrogant. She wished that he would show that side to her more often.
"Thank you."
Jag tipped his head in a small bow of acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
Jaina turned her attention to the chest near the doors. "I see your exploration was a success."
Jag glanced over the table at the provisions. "It's not much but it should do for now. Aside from what you see there, I found some candles as well. I had some trouble getting them into the candleholders because the candles are very thick and I broke a holder trying to make it fit. After that, I thought I'd wait until you woke up. I didn't want to disturb you."
Jaina smiled. How thoughtful he was; always putting her needs above his own. She made a promise to herself that she would repay him for all the kindness and compassion he had shown her.
"Did you find any food?"
Jag made a face. "I think I did. There are some canned goods over there and when I shook one of them, it sounded like liquid. I'm hoping it may be soup." He rose from the chair, pushing it out a little from the table in doing so. "If you're hungry, I can crack one open and see what it is?"
"Only if you'll taste it first."
He thought for a moment then looked down at her, the grin returning to his face. "I guess you are going to kill me for stripping you of most of your clothes." He extended a hand to her.
Jaina laughed, accepting his proffered hand. "I've always wanted a Clawcraft of my own."
"Well, if you can find it underneath the snow, it's yours."
They exchanged smiles and Jaina was reminded of the night on Hapes when they had tried to escape the banquet. It was the first time she had seen Jag smile, and the very sight of it stunned her into silence. He was so handsome and when he smiled, his presence in the Force seemed to grow brighter than it already was. She had a feeling it was a gesture that he only granted to those who truly deserved it and she was incredibly happy that he shared it with her.
"I found a small 'fresher down the hallway, the first door on your left. It has a toilet, a sink, and not much else. There are a couple of old cloths on a rack near the sink and you'll find a bar of rather pungent soap in the sink."
"So that's why you smell like that." Jaina teased, looking up at him.
Jag smirked. "Actually, that scent is my natural pheromones. Now you know why I'm not dating anyone."
Again, she laughed. He just made a joke! I wish he would show this side of himself all the time. Jaina stood with his assistance and grimaced when her ribs throbbed again. She looked up at him and noticed that Jag had recognized it too and he looked troubled to see her in pain. How sweet of him to worry about her.
Slowly, Jag walked her over to the double doors. He paused at the chest and picked up the glow rod he had used earlier. "Why don't you go and freshen up a little and I'll get started on supper." He opened the door then gently released his hand from hers. "The faucets stick a little and it takes a few moments for the water to come out and it's a little cold. There's a bigger towel on the rack on the back of the door and it might still be a little damp from when I used it." He gave her an encouraging little push into the hallway. "If you need me, just holler. I'll keep the door open."
Jaina smiled up at him and gently touched his cheek. "Thank you, Jag. For everything."
"Anytime." He nodded then turned to the chest. Grabbing the big pot, the dishes and two of the canned goods, he headed over to the fire and began preparing their supper.
It was colder in the hallway then the dining hall. Her feet felt like they were walking on the snow themselves and the draft from the rest of the house seemed to follow behind her. She walked fast and found the room Jag had described. Pushing the door open, Jaina stepped into the 'fresher.
The room was incredibly narrow, the toilet and sink almost met in the middle of the room. Closing the door, she set the glow rod down on the back of the sink. She hung her clothes on the door handle then undid the binding that Jag had so carefully wrapped around her injured ribs. She didn't want the material to get wet while she washed.
The water was cold just as Jag said, but after several minutes it warmed up just a little. She filled the sink almost to the top, then took her time cleaning up. She was dirty and sticky and the water felt wonderful against her skin. Jaina took her time, enjoying the feeling of being cleaned even though the soap smelled awful. It must have been sitting there forever, she thought.
After almost ten minutes she was done, feeling refreshed once again. She dried herself quickly and slipped back into her clothes. She combed through her hair with her fingers until it didn't feel like a mass of tangles then reached for the binding. Jaina struggled with the material and her efforts to wrap her injury as neatly and effectively as Jag proved fruitless. Grabbing the glow rod and Jag's shirt, she exited the 'fresher and hurried back to the warmth of the dining hall.
When she stepped back into the room, Jag was squatting in front of the fireplace. He had set the big metal pot on casters over the fire and he was using a long wooden spoon to stir the soup. Or what they hoped was soup. The fire created a cozy atmosphere in the dining hall and even the sound of the wind and snow beating on the window had its own calming rhythm.
Jaina placed the glow rod back on the chest then turned back to Jag. He still hadn't looked to her. She closed the door behind her then walked over to the table and placed his shirt on the back of a chair. She knew that he was aware she had returned but he was so intent on fixing supper he hadn't spared her a glance. A slow, mischievous smile crossed her face.
"Jag, could you help me please?"
He turned toward her, half-rising from his spot as he did so, and just as suddenly, he almost fell over when he saw her. Jaina grinned as Jag stared at her, dressed only in the tank top and panties, and she waved the binding in front of her as if it were a banner.
Jag recovered quickly, taking a step over the dishes he had set on the floor. "Certainly."
Jaina handed him the binding, then with her right hand, she raised her tank top up just enough to allow him to bandage her ribs properly. She brought her left hand up to rest on his shoulder and her smile grew even more when she sensed Jag's discomfort. It was just like when he took care of her the first time, only she wasn't taking an anesthetic and she was aware of what she was doing.
His fingers were dexterous and he wrapped the material around her ribs just as neatly as before. Jaina felt a shiver creep up her spine every time his fingers grazed her skin and she wished that his ribs were in need of care too, so she could feel him as intimately as he did with her.
He leaned a little closer, checking over her shoulder to make sure he had secured the binding tightly at the back and Jaina closed her eyes as his breath tickled her bare shoulder. Did he know he had this affect on her?
She felt Jag nod against her shoulder and he began to step back. She opened her eyes and stopped him with her left hand, bringing it from his shoulder to rest against his cheek. He looked at her, perplexed, then before he could say or do anything else, Jaina leaned in and kissed him.
It was a brief, simple kiss; her breath became his, his lips were warm against hers. She sensed his surprise at her actions, felt him hesitate before he responded to her touch. Then as gently as it had started, Jaina pulled away from him, her fingers caressing his cheek.
His eyes were filled with surprise, his presence glowing with wonder. Jaina was aware of Jag's internal struggle regarding her and she suddenly wondered if she had acted too soon. He seemed frozen in his place, unable to articulate in any way what he was thinking right now. Even his presence was wavering between a myriad of emotions.
When he finally found his voice, it was low and harsh when he spoke. "What was that for?"
It was an odd question. It brought a smile to her face. "Thank you for saving me."
Jag nodded slowly and gently removed her hand from his cheek. He picked up his shirt and passed it to her. "Well then," he began, turning away from her to go back to the fireplace, "if that's the reward for saving your life, I'm going to have to make sure I'm around every time you're in danger."
Something had changed in him, however, since that moment. When she woke this morning he was standing at the window he had stripped the curtains from, his stare focused on an invisible point outside, seeing beyond the beauty and the hazard of the snowstorm. She had not moved for fear of taking him away from his reverie. Jaina closed her eyes again as the memory of how Jag looked at that moment came back to her. He had been leaning against the cool glass, one arm at his side, the other in a pocket of the black pants he had slipped on. The muscle shirt he wore hung loosely at the waist and he was barefoot against the cold stone floor. His hair had been tousled from sleep and the white streak that followed the scar back into the hairline stood out against the dimness of the room.
Jag's eyes had been haunted, his tired features betraying the fact he had slept little that night. Something had troubled him, had brought him deep inside himself and threatened to consume him with the sheer power of it. She had sat there in silence, watching him, wishing she knew what had been so dominant, so intriguing about his thoughts.
Jaina.
A smile touched her lips as she opened her eyes, again focusing on the flames. She had gently reached out through the Force to touch his mind, to see if perhaps she might be able to help him with whatever troubled him. He had saved her life; it was the least she could do for him. Her connection with Jag was tentative, something that would only grow stronger over time, but it was enough to let her feel what he was feeling, hear what he was thinking.
And he had been thinking about her.
He was not angry at her for defying his orders. Jag was not upset over their current predicament. He was not blaming her for what had happened. He was not cursing her very existence or wishing that she had never come along with him.
He was trying to sort out what exactly he felt about her.
Jaina pressed her right hand gently down on the floor and pushed herself up. The pain flared slightly, but fortunately the spray splints Jag had applied stabilized her injury somewhat, making movement a little more bearable. Pushing the blanket down, she eased herself up from the floor, adjusting Jag's shirt in doing so. The material fell just over her midsection, leaving most of her legs exposed and Jaina immediately felt the chill of the room. It wasn't as cold as before and she could feel the warmth of the fire slowly heating the room. She stretched a little and felt her muscles ache with the effort. Her neck, back, arms, legs, everything throbbed from being immobile on the floor. Jaina ran her fingers through her hair in an effort to comb it a little. She cringed as she snagged a couple tangles, straightened them out so she looked somewhat presentable.
She noticed two things. The first was Jag. He was sitting at the table, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded over his chest, his head leaning back against the chair. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.
The second was that Jag had found some provisions in his exploration of the house. On the chest near the door sat a large cast iron pot, several wooden utensils, some dishes, two worn dusty cushions, and what appeared to be canned goods. There were several smaller objects that she did not recognize from where she was standing.
Jaina turned her stare back to the table. Jag had arranged their belongings in a way that would allow them to dry. Her lightsaber was still attached to the utility belt and she was thankful that it hadn't gotten lost in the crash.
Tiptoeing across the room, Jaina paused long enough to look toward the exposed window. The sound of the wind and snow beating against the glass and the house were a constant now and no longer surprised her with the strength of it. The storm was not ready to ease its fury and they were stuck on Drognan until the weather slackened and it was safe to venture outdoors.
She stopped next to Jag and looked down at him. Was it possible that he looked more handsome in sleep than he did while awake? She never would have thought so, but looking at him now, the serenity on his face... She wondered if his dreams were the only place he felt he could be free.
Hesitating for a moment, Jaina gently placed her fingers on the scar, mimicking the gesture she'd executed before when he had told her the story of how the marking came into being. Jag did not wake up, however he sighed deeply, the corners of his mouth twitching briefly in his sleep.
*Next time you have a conversation with him that doesn't involve piloting skill or battle tactics, don't just listen to what he says, Jaina. Hear what he means. Feel him. You may be surprised.*
She had heeded Kyp's advice when she had realized that Jag was thinking about her. She listened not with her ears, but through the Force. The intensity of Jag's thoughts almost paralysed her. He was confused by his emotions, uncertain if what he was feeling was real. It had surprised her to sense fear in him and Jaina had found herself wondering what kind of relationships he'd had in the past that would make him question whether he wanted one with her.
Jaina's fingers danced lightly over the scar, then trailed a delicate path down along his cheek, curling her fingers to rest her knuckles against him. His skin was smooth beneath her touch, save for the slight prickle of a day's growth of facial hair.
She had wondered why it was so important to her that Jag reciprocate her feelings. She had been confused by her own emotions, had wondered if it was even worth thinking about. After all the heartache she had suffered in recent weeks, was there really a point in getting to know Jag, to understand him and how he felt about her when everything could change suddenly? When this war still threatened to take someone away from her?
After what had happened the day before, accepting how she felt about Jag was more important than ever.
So, she took Kyp's advice and listened through the Force for the truth. Their conversation had been short but it was all Jaina needed. She knew how Jag felt about her when he'd looked over at her from the window. She noticed how his body stiffened when she touched his scar. She saw it when he opened his eyes and looked at her, felt it when his trembling fingers removed hers from his shoulder. It sang from every part of him. It captivated her mind, captured her heart, and ran to the deepest corners of her soul. It was as if a light had been switched on, illuminating all the darkness shrouding her.
The only thing was, Jag was not ready to admit it to himself. He was not prepared to give so much of himself to one person after spending a lifetime locked in solitude. He was experiencing emotions foreign to him and he needed the time to adjust to them. She would not pressure him, though. Jaina understood that whatever may happen between them had to begin when Jag was ready to accept his feelings and not a moment sooner.
That didn't mean, however, that she would shy away from her own emotions. Jaina's hand fell from his face to his arm and rested gently against the warmth of his skin. They had been granted an unexpected break from the war, an interlude in which the pain and fear and contempt did not exist and they were free to be themselves.
Her smile faded slightly as she leaned closer to Jag. *You may not be ready to admit how you feel about me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to ignore it. By the time we leave Drognan, Jagged Fel, you're going to know exactly how I feel. You're going to know exactly what you mean to me.*
Closing her eyes, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips a whisper against the curve of the scar.
One of Jag's arms fell from his chest, falling to his side. Jaina stepped back and pulled out the chair next to his. Sitting down carefully in the chair, she watched quietly as Jag slowly began to wake from his slumber.
He blinked several times, opening his eyes, then slowly sat up in the chair. He must have been sleeping in that position for a while for when he sat up, Jag grimaced and stretched his legs. Leaning forward against the table, he folded his arms against the surface then slowly turned to look at her.
Jaina knew in that moment he would always have the power to take her breath away.
"You shouldn't be sitting up like that." he commented, his voice concerned.
"You shouldn't be sleeping like that." she replied, giving him her sweetest smile.
Jag nodded, a small grin tracing his lips. "How do you feel?"
"I'm still a little sore but not as much as before and even after sleeping for what seems like forever, I'm still weary."
"It will take you a few days to get your strength back. Your body suffered quite the trauma."
Jaina pressed her lips together in a grim line and folded her hands in her lap. "How do you feel?"
Sighing heavily, Jag ran his fingers quickly through his hair, slumping a little toward the table. "My leg doesn't hurt as much as it did earlier and I feel like I could sleep for a week. Other than that, I'm fine."
"Were you injured when you landed?" she asked, feeling a little guilty for not asking him earlier if he was all right. She hadn't noticed the limp the night before and when he walked this morning, it was prominent. She hoped he wasn't trying to keep any other injuries from her, that he was ignoring his own well-being to take care of her.
Jag shook his head. "No. When I was carrying you from the lake to this place, I lost my footing and fell and I pulled a muscle when I landed."
She leaned forward a little, mindful of her constantly aching ribs, and placed a hand on his arm. Jag straightened a little, matching her stare. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you."
When he didn't pull away from her touch, Jaina kept her hand on his arm. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so much that she couldn't share because he wasn't ready to hear it. So, she opted for the simplest one, something he rightly deserved to hear.
Jaina thought about her words quickly, then took a breath. "Jag, I owe you an apology. I never should have deviated from the coordinates that you gave me before we left Borleias. If I had only followed your orders, we wouldn't be here." *Not that I mind in the least that I'm stranded here with you.*
He folded a hand over hers and Jaina's heart skipped a beat at the simple gesture. She didn't know if he was aware he was doing it, but his thumb was slowly rubbing her skin, giving her goose-bumps. "You don't need to apologize. These things happen."
"No." she shook her head. "I disobeyed your orders. If I had stayed on the course you had set, if I had joined you after you had directed me too, we wouldn't be here. This is all my fault and for that, I apologize."
"I don't blame you and we don't need to discuss this any further. It's forgotten."
"We can't forget what happened, Jag. When we get back to Borleias, I'll have a lot of explaining to do and you'll have to tell Wedge what happened. I disobeyed orders from a superior officer and for that I'll be reprimanded." She looked away, turning her gaze toward the windows. The thought of being punished by Wedge for her actions was unbearable. She hadn't even flown with Twins Suns Squadron yet and because she was too stubborn for her own good, she was probably going to be grounded for a little while as punishment.
"Uncle Wedge cannot punish you for something that did not happen."
Jaina turned back to him. Jag's brows were narrowed in deep thought and she sensed a surprising tenacity of his own surface.
"Considering the fact that when we left Borleias we had two ships and now we only have one... I think someone is going to realize that something went wrong."
"Only if we tell them something went wrong."
She stared at him and wondered if he had injured his head upon landing and neglected to tell her. Before she could ask him just that, Jag continued.
"When we exited hyperspace, we came into a mine field. You sustained critical damage and were forced to make a crash landing. I also suffered some damage and was forced to land and because of Drognan's inclement weather, we had to wait for the skies to clear before we could make a safe departure."
Jaina nodded slowly. "That's not the whole truth though. I crashed because I disobey---"
"Your X-Wing is nothing more than pile of scrap metal somewhere on this planet," Jag interrupted. "Your ships logs are lost. I can alter my ship's records to reflect our story, omitting all radio contact that we had prior to your descent into the atmosphere." He paused, nodding slowly to himself. "That could work because I can always make it look like my ship's logs got scrambled when I got hit by the ion mine---"
Jaina was confused. "Ion mine?"
"I'll explain later. I don't suspect anyone will question us about what really happened, but it's best to make sure my records reflect our story just in case my uncle wants to take a look at them." He seemed quite pleased with himself and grinned. His eyes never left hers and Jaina thought she saw a mischievous twinkle in them.
"You can't do that, Jag." she finally said, removing her hand from his and placing it on the table. "I can't ask you to lie to your uncle."
"You're not asking and I'm not lying to him. I'm simply omitting the insignificant parts."
"But why? It doesn't make any sense."
Jag leaned back in the chair, his stare still focused on her. "I may not know the extent of my uncle's plans, but I do realize that you're an important part of whatever he's plotting. If I were to tell him what happened and he was forced to punish you, it could affect the overall outcome of what happens at Borleias and I'm not going to be responsible for that." He folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, haven't you suffered enough on this trip?"
Once again he had surprised her. Within the last twenty-four hours he was showing her little glimpses of the man who truly existed, the one who was not so severe and arrogant. She wished that he would show that side to her more often.
"Thank you."
Jag tipped his head in a small bow of acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
Jaina turned her attention to the chest near the doors. "I see your exploration was a success."
Jag glanced over the table at the provisions. "It's not much but it should do for now. Aside from what you see there, I found some candles as well. I had some trouble getting them into the candleholders because the candles are very thick and I broke a holder trying to make it fit. After that, I thought I'd wait until you woke up. I didn't want to disturb you."
Jaina smiled. How thoughtful he was; always putting her needs above his own. She made a promise to herself that she would repay him for all the kindness and compassion he had shown her.
"Did you find any food?"
Jag made a face. "I think I did. There are some canned goods over there and when I shook one of them, it sounded like liquid. I'm hoping it may be soup." He rose from the chair, pushing it out a little from the table in doing so. "If you're hungry, I can crack one open and see what it is?"
"Only if you'll taste it first."
He thought for a moment then looked down at her, the grin returning to his face. "I guess you are going to kill me for stripping you of most of your clothes." He extended a hand to her.
Jaina laughed, accepting his proffered hand. "I've always wanted a Clawcraft of my own."
"Well, if you can find it underneath the snow, it's yours."
They exchanged smiles and Jaina was reminded of the night on Hapes when they had tried to escape the banquet. It was the first time she had seen Jag smile, and the very sight of it stunned her into silence. He was so handsome and when he smiled, his presence in the Force seemed to grow brighter than it already was. She had a feeling it was a gesture that he only granted to those who truly deserved it and she was incredibly happy that he shared it with her.
"I found a small 'fresher down the hallway, the first door on your left. It has a toilet, a sink, and not much else. There are a couple of old cloths on a rack near the sink and you'll find a bar of rather pungent soap in the sink."
"So that's why you smell like that." Jaina teased, looking up at him.
Jag smirked. "Actually, that scent is my natural pheromones. Now you know why I'm not dating anyone."
Again, she laughed. He just made a joke! I wish he would show this side of himself all the time. Jaina stood with his assistance and grimaced when her ribs throbbed again. She looked up at him and noticed that Jag had recognized it too and he looked troubled to see her in pain. How sweet of him to worry about her.
Slowly, Jag walked her over to the double doors. He paused at the chest and picked up the glow rod he had used earlier. "Why don't you go and freshen up a little and I'll get started on supper." He opened the door then gently released his hand from hers. "The faucets stick a little and it takes a few moments for the water to come out and it's a little cold. There's a bigger towel on the rack on the back of the door and it might still be a little damp from when I used it." He gave her an encouraging little push into the hallway. "If you need me, just holler. I'll keep the door open."
Jaina smiled up at him and gently touched his cheek. "Thank you, Jag. For everything."
"Anytime." He nodded then turned to the chest. Grabbing the big pot, the dishes and two of the canned goods, he headed over to the fire and began preparing their supper.
It was colder in the hallway then the dining hall. Her feet felt like they were walking on the snow themselves and the draft from the rest of the house seemed to follow behind her. She walked fast and found the room Jag had described. Pushing the door open, Jaina stepped into the 'fresher.
The room was incredibly narrow, the toilet and sink almost met in the middle of the room. Closing the door, she set the glow rod down on the back of the sink. She hung her clothes on the door handle then undid the binding that Jag had so carefully wrapped around her injured ribs. She didn't want the material to get wet while she washed.
The water was cold just as Jag said, but after several minutes it warmed up just a little. She filled the sink almost to the top, then took her time cleaning up. She was dirty and sticky and the water felt wonderful against her skin. Jaina took her time, enjoying the feeling of being cleaned even though the soap smelled awful. It must have been sitting there forever, she thought.
After almost ten minutes she was done, feeling refreshed once again. She dried herself quickly and slipped back into her clothes. She combed through her hair with her fingers until it didn't feel like a mass of tangles then reached for the binding. Jaina struggled with the material and her efforts to wrap her injury as neatly and effectively as Jag proved fruitless. Grabbing the glow rod and Jag's shirt, she exited the 'fresher and hurried back to the warmth of the dining hall.
When she stepped back into the room, Jag was squatting in front of the fireplace. He had set the big metal pot on casters over the fire and he was using a long wooden spoon to stir the soup. Or what they hoped was soup. The fire created a cozy atmosphere in the dining hall and even the sound of the wind and snow beating on the window had its own calming rhythm.
Jaina placed the glow rod back on the chest then turned back to Jag. He still hadn't looked to her. She closed the door behind her then walked over to the table and placed his shirt on the back of a chair. She knew that he was aware she had returned but he was so intent on fixing supper he hadn't spared her a glance. A slow, mischievous smile crossed her face.
"Jag, could you help me please?"
He turned toward her, half-rising from his spot as he did so, and just as suddenly, he almost fell over when he saw her. Jaina grinned as Jag stared at her, dressed only in the tank top and panties, and she waved the binding in front of her as if it were a banner.
Jag recovered quickly, taking a step over the dishes he had set on the floor. "Certainly."
Jaina handed him the binding, then with her right hand, she raised her tank top up just enough to allow him to bandage her ribs properly. She brought her left hand up to rest on his shoulder and her smile grew even more when she sensed Jag's discomfort. It was just like when he took care of her the first time, only she wasn't taking an anesthetic and she was aware of what she was doing.
His fingers were dexterous and he wrapped the material around her ribs just as neatly as before. Jaina felt a shiver creep up her spine every time his fingers grazed her skin and she wished that his ribs were in need of care too, so she could feel him as intimately as he did with her.
He leaned a little closer, checking over her shoulder to make sure he had secured the binding tightly at the back and Jaina closed her eyes as his breath tickled her bare shoulder. Did he know he had this affect on her?
She felt Jag nod against her shoulder and he began to step back. She opened her eyes and stopped him with her left hand, bringing it from his shoulder to rest against his cheek. He looked at her, perplexed, then before he could say or do anything else, Jaina leaned in and kissed him.
It was a brief, simple kiss; her breath became his, his lips were warm against hers. She sensed his surprise at her actions, felt him hesitate before he responded to her touch. Then as gently as it had started, Jaina pulled away from him, her fingers caressing his cheek.
His eyes were filled with surprise, his presence glowing with wonder. Jaina was aware of Jag's internal struggle regarding her and she suddenly wondered if she had acted too soon. He seemed frozen in his place, unable to articulate in any way what he was thinking right now. Even his presence was wavering between a myriad of emotions.
When he finally found his voice, it was low and harsh when he spoke. "What was that for?"
It was an odd question. It brought a smile to her face. "Thank you for saving me."
Jag nodded slowly and gently removed her hand from his cheek. He picked up his shirt and passed it to her. "Well then," he began, turning away from her to go back to the fireplace, "if that's the reward for saving your life, I'm going to have to make sure I'm around every time you're in danger."