It was late at night when the necklace got heavier. Rowan had been out in the cold, amazed at how the hot planet could drop so many degrees an hour after the sun set, wrapped in multiple jackets as she helped BoShek fix the engine. They'd been working for several hours now, fighting the engine to repair it somehow. The shot hadn't completely destroyed it, just taken out the hyperdrive motivator and destroyed some part of the engine Rowan didn't know well enough to name. She crouched in the freezing mud next to BoShek, mainly there to help him when he required it, supervise the process and hand him the instruments he needed. They lay scattered around her, glinting in the light of a small lamp they'd brought out with them.
All but Garouf and Debnoli were still in the ship, warmed by the insulated space inside and hopefully sleeping, watched over by Melshi and K-2. Debnoli and Garouf had volunteered to serve as guards, patrolling the area around the fallen ship and making sure they weren't being hunted down. It was essentially a calm night; freezing, but calm. Rowan felt confident that it was possible to fix the engine, because BoShek had implied that its damage was fixable, though it would take some time. She'd elected to stay with him, and began to regret it a little after the sun went down, throwing the temperatures into what must have been thirty or forty degrees Fahrenheit on Earth.
But she'd stayed calm. Until the necklace got heavier.
Panic surged through her, her heart rate shooting up and her breathing growing rapid. Fear pounded in her mind as she considered all the possible reasons why Cassian could have been in danger and hating the fact that she was helpless to help him. Suddenly she couldn't focus on the work. Her eyes were wide, staring unrecognizably at the tools before her. Images flashed in her mind: Cassian dead, his broken and bloody body replacing Luke's, Cassian bleeding uncontrollably, his face growing pale as life left him, him alone in some dark room, the world falling down about him.
"Rowan!" BoShek's voice called her back to the world around her, and her hand went immediately to the pendent, holding it tightly.
She jerked her head up, meeting his gaze, half illuminated in the dark by the lamp.
"Are you okay?" He asked, concern covering his features.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm- I'm fine." She seemed to struggle regaining her whereabouts, her eyes still wide in fear.
"You don't look fine." BoShek returned. "Go inside and sleep. Tell Melshi to get out here."
Rowan shook her head. "No- no, I won't be able to sleep."
"Then switch places with Debnoli or Garouf. One of them can sleep or help me." BoShek advised, kindly placing a hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, rubbing a hand over her brow. "I- I will. Thanks, BoShek." She turned to him and smiled gratefully.
"Call me Bo. It's easier to pronounce." The man smiled, his eyes gentle.
Rowan smiled through the fear that churned in her stomach. "Alright, Bo. Thanks."
She stood, brushing the mud off her knees and immediately regretted it when her fingers protested against the freezing cold. She stretched momentarily before turning to find Debnoli or Garouf. They were walking rounds in a wide radius around the ship, large blasters at the ready in their hands. When she spotted them, she hurried to them, hugging her jacket tight around her frame as she slipped and stumbled through the stubborn mud.
Garouf noticed her first and waved her over. She sped up her pace, jogging to him.
"Hey, Rowan." Debnoli greeted when she arrived, and she nodded breathlessly in turn.
"Whoever's more tired should go back to the ship. I'm replacing you." She answered Garouf's questioning expression.
"Oh, good." Debnoli nodded, looking incredibly relieved.
Garouf gave a small laugh. "Deb's exhausted."
Rowan smiled amusedly. "I can see why." She turned to Debnoli. "I haven't properly thanked you for coming with me to get the info. You were very brave, and without you, we wouldn't have made it. The Rebellion owes you a great debt. I'm proud to have worked with you." She said simply, gratefully, knowing Debnoli's full range as an incredible soldier and hoping that, should she be forced to work with anyone else for the Rebellion, it would be him.
Debnoli smiled. "It was a pleasure working with you, Miss Castellan."
She laughed. "We're not done yet. Now go, sleep. Tell Melshi to get out and help BoShek while you're at it. The man needs it."
Debnoli nodded, indicating he understood, and handed Rowan his blaster. She took it gratefully, though she regretted that the metal was cold, not alleviating her already cold palms. She watched with Garouf as the man scampered off toward the light of the lamp by the ship.
And then she turned to Garouf, a small smile on her face. "Shall we?" She asked, gesturing to the path they had been walking.
The man nodded, sighing a little. "Might as well."
And they began to walk their rounds, side by side, silently listening and watching for any movement. Rowan's thoughts were preoccupied, though, as the necklace remained heavier for what seemed like forever, each second knowing that Cassian was deeply in danger and that she could do nothing about it.
- - -
Sometime around midnight, BoShek fixed the engine. Rowan and Garouf had been continually making their rounds, silent as the grave and hoping they wouldn't end up in one soon. Which had sent Rowan into wondering whether the Empire actually made graves for the people they killed. The thought consumed her, mostly because she didn't have the heart to focus on anything else, and she was just moving to ask Garouf when they passed by the ship, and BoShek gave a loud hoot of triumph. Both Rowan and Garouf spasmed in fear, jerking their blasters to the ready and looking out cautiously at the world around them, its coldness shrouded in darkness and the barely perceptible shapes of the dunes that surrounded them. They rose from the ground like small giants, legions of them advancing in rows toward the ship, reminding Rowan unsettlingly of the war against Gaea. A chill ran down her spine before she realized Garouf was laughing beside her.
She looked over to him quickly, and he smiled, gesturing with the tip of his blaster to behind her. Confused, she looked over, her eyebrows knitted together. Behind her, BoShek was standing, fists in the air and a wild smile on his face. In unison, Rowan and Garouf sprinted over to him, hope filling them. He was standing over his work, hands greasy but eyes bright. He turned to them when they reached him, and a grin, so proud and so excited, spread over his face till it split it wide with joy.
The man simply gestured to the engine, unable to explain with words his pride in what he had accomplished. Both Rowan and Garouf looked down and a smile split across Rowan's face. She put a hand on BoShek's shoulder, eyes bright with joy.
"You, my friend, are a life-saving genius." She almost laughed the words out, so great was her joy. They'd get back to Yavin 4. She'd find out what had happened with Cassian. She assumed he wasn't dead. If he was, she had a feeling she would know by now. Kronos would have returned. Life as she knew it would have ended.
But she had no time for such fears at the moment. She turned to Garouf, who seemed equally as joyful. "Get in and get warm. I want Melshi and K-2 out here as fast as possible. It's time we got that robot to work a little. He's been far too comfortable for the past couple hours."
Garouf laughed. "Will do, Rowan." And he hurried into the warmth.
Rowan nodded to BoShek. "You go, too. You've deserved far more than warmth, but that's all I can give till we get back to the base."
"Honestly ma'am," BoShek smiled happily, "No reward could possibly be better."
At this, Rowan threw back her head and laughed. "Good. I have a feeling the Rebellion won't exactly provide satisfaction."
BoShek grinned and nodded. "Maybe not. I'll take my leave, miss."
Rowan smirked. "Go." She waved him off, and waited for Melshi and K-2, eagerly bouncing on her feet and shivering in the cold. They arrived soon, Melshi leading the droid, who immediately recognized Rowan.
"You know- you should go inside, Rowan." The droid stated simply when he saw her. "Extensive exposure to cold is detrimental to your health. Cassian would disapprove."
"Cassian's not here." Rowan observed, smirking. "Not to mention, I'd go insane in there. Now," Here she nodded to Melshi, indicating she was speaking to him, "Garouf tells me they have a shield gate over the planet during the night to prevent ships leaving and entering. It's operated from the planet so we don't have to worry about them activating it when we leave. They trust too much in their laser towers. Which, if my plan works, will be their downfall." And, with a mischievous smirk, she explained the plan to Melshi, whose lips slowly widened into a smile that lit up the entirety of his face.
- - -
The sun was rising when the trio returned to the ship, exhausted but excited nonetheless. Anticipation filled Rowan, giving her energy despite the constant shiver in her bones, the cough that racked her body and the huge bags beneath her eyes. As they entered the ship, stepping into the warmth that washed over them, Rowan was vaguely aware of Jyn Erso's eyes following her closely, confused but silent. Rowan had to admit her contentment with this. The more questions she had to answer, the more her exhaustion would increase. K-2 and Melshi hurried to the cockpit, sliding into their seats, Melshi's face pale in fatigue.
"Melshi... Melshi..." Rowan was aware of the weakness in her voice, but chose to ignore it. A fit of coughs overtook her, and she bent double in pain as they ripped out of her lungs. A small, grim chuckle left her mouth after the fit was over. "Don't drive. Debnoli, you can fly right?"
The man nodded. "I can, miss."
"Then do. Whatever happens, obey my commands. Don't question, just do." Rowan told him, closing the door and shutting out the steadily warming planet as she did so. She watched the sun rise, realizing with a smirk that she didn't know which direction it rose in and how far away from home she was. And then it hit her. She didn't have a home.
Involuntarily, she rubbed the mark on her hand, feeling the ridges that marked the brand. She'd memorized them in the days since she'd earned it, almost tracing herself into it. She traced the loneliness, the pain, the abandonment, the fear. She felt the longing, the sorrow, the memory. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the mark had been with her all along. What had been burned into her heart had simply formed on her hand.
But the thoughts were pushed out of her mind when Garouf spoke, his voice breaking her daze. She looked up.
Seeing she hadn't heard him the first time, he restated what he had said earlier. "It's time."
A smirk spread across Rowan's face. "Let's give 'em what they asked for." And she turned to the window, watching the world around them. She held up her hand to Debnoli, indicating for him to wait.
"Get off the ground, but hover only." She commanded, and Debnoli did as she asked.
The ship felt unsteady beneath her as they rose slowly, but surely into the air, and once again, Rowan promised herself that she'd tell Mon Mothma of BoShek's service to the Rebellion.
She turned to Melshi, sitting on the bench beside Jyn, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. "Light em up." She said, and Melshi smirked, pressing a small detonator in his hand.
"Alright!" She called to Debnoli, hurrying over to the cockpit so that she stared between his and K-2's heads. "Higher... Higher..." She coaxed slowly, and Debnoli obeyed her.
They rose higher and higher into the sky until they were above the dunes and looking out on the prison camp. And Debnoli laughed. Beneath them lay the wasted land, but in various locations, huge machines were now in ruins, exploding violently and at random. The laser towers were no more.
Rowan smiled at Debnoli's mirth. "Now gun it!" She commanded, and Debnoli didn't have to be asked twice. They were in hyperspace before a second thought passed through any of their heads. The stars lengthened into lines, and Rowan let out a victorious hoot, high-fiving Melshi, her excitement winning over. And then a coughing fit seized her and she stumbled forward, bringing her mouth to the crook of her elbow and doubling over. When she stood, Melshi was at her side, guiding her to a seat he lowered from the wall, concern on his face.
"Rest, miss. You've done enough." He smiled warmly, and she obediently let him lower her into the seat.
Her head fell back against the metal wall, finding it strangely comfortable for her weary body. A smile flashed across her lips as her eyes slid closed and her breathing regulated itself.
"That was awesome..." She sighed, contented. "Totally worth it..."
Across from her on the bench, BoShek laughed in agreement. Overall, the mood of the ship had lightened. No longer were they fending for their lives. They were on the way home, headed back to safety. Rowan's eyes slid open, observing all in the room. K-2 and Debnoli still manned the cockpit, the dashboard completely under control through their guidance. Across her sat BoShek, eyes closed, head supported by his hands with his elbow on his knees in some desperate attempt to get as much sleep as possible. Melshi had stretched out on the floor, fast asleep and using a duffel bag as a pillow. Garouf sat at the entrance to the cockpit, his back pressed against the wall with his head relaxed against the metal and his eyes closed. On the bench beside BoShek sat Jyn Erso. Her eyes met Rowan's and they watched each other for a moment, curious boring into bloodshot. The other prisoner they had rescued sat curled against the wall, watching the movement of the ship.
"You're Rebels, aren't you?" And Rowan looked at Jyn, the one who had spoken.
Rowan shook her head negatively. "They are." And she gestured to the men she had worked so hard with and trusted so much, before pointing to herself. "I'm not."
"But you're working with them." The statement was a fact that demanded an explanation, a disguised question. Evidently Jyn had her doubts, and Rowan didn't blame her.
"Yes I am. The Rebellion's like any other movement, you know. When you get what you need, you use it. They needed me, they used me. I totally understand." She shrugged.
Jyn nodded in understanding, too, sympathizing with what the strange woman before her had said. It seemed as if Rowan, too, was of the same bent as the Rebellion itself in what she had just described, and because of it, Jyn found herself trusting the woman more.
And so the two women watched each other, analyzing and questioning wordlessly. For her part, Rowan found she understood, if not trusted, the real Jyn Erso more than the picture she'd seen in the headquarters of Wobani and had a strange prophetic feeling that she'd be seeing and working with the woman again in the future.
- - -
Cassian was waiting for them on the landing pad. His ribs still burned somewhat, the reason for the little sleep he'd gotten the night before, along with the images he'd seen in the dark tendrils of shadow and their incessant haunting of his mind's eye. He watched as the U-Wing landed, his anxiety boiling in his gut at the possibility that Rowan might not step off. But she did, following a larger group of passengers.
She did some directing, commanding a man she had worked with- Cassian recalled his name being Melshi- to escort a woman in one direction, followed by another man escorting yet another newcomer, this one male. And still he waited as she spoke to the remaining two men, both of whom he didn't recognize but had seen her set off with. He remained where he was, leaning against a pillar, as Rowan was approached by General Draven. Her conduct was the most formal he had ever seen it, and he had to admit he was impressed. But his attention was pulled away from her when K-2 approached him.
"Cassian." The droid greeted.
Cassian looked up. "K." He nodded.
"Rowan needs to rest. She hasn't slept all this trip, and she is sick. Please remind her to take care of herself. I believe she will listen to you." K-2 said suddenly, and Cassian cocked his head, confused.
"Why?"
"She respects you far more than she respects me."
Cassian remained confused, straightening out, his back rubbing against the pillar as he adjusted where it supported him, his mouth parting slightly in a small oval. "Why do you say that?"
"Because she obeys you but never me." K-2 returned, his voice annoyed. "And her sarcasm is better toward you. Not to mention, you're both half-bloods."
Cassian smirked, patting K-2 on the shoulder, which he found to be a stretch. "I'm sorry, K. Do you want me to tell her to respect you?"
"Yes. I do." K-2 returned.
At which point Rowan appeared, fingering her sword-ring, her backpack upon her shoulders. Cassian took her in and knew immediately what K-2 was speaking of. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide, struggling to stay open. She looked weak, as if she were on the verge of falling over but refusing her body the luxury. He couldn't deny the relief and joy that spread through him at the sight of her alive, even if she was tired and sick. But her own face was far from reflecting the same emotions.
It was angry. And so was her voice when she spoke. "I want an explanation. Now." She demanded, eyes blazing in some attempt to block the worry that raged beneath the surface. She'd never been this scared about anyone, unless it was Luke when he'd sacrificed himself to destroy Kronos and the many weeks that followed as he was slowly brought to health.
"You know, my necklace got heavier, too..." Cassian trailed off, hoping to calm her down through sympathy, but she wasn't fazed and interrupted his next attempt to speak.
"I was on a mission. You weren't. I was out fighting. You were here, where you should have been safe." She persisted.
For some reason, this angered Cassian. Maybe it was because he had been just as worried, or maybe because he didn't enjoy his dependence on Rowan and the fact that she felt the need to protect him. He didn't know, but irritation stirred in him, and it edged his voice when he spoke. "I'm sorry- you said you weren't even safe from monsters on Earth. You said they hunted demigods all the time, and you had no rest. I'm a demi-titan and apparently the focus of a war right now. Forgive me if I attracted more monsters than you expected."
The sarcasm was thick in the last sentence, but Rowan bypassed it. "Doesn't matter. I want to know what happened. You're injured, and you've seen things that scare you. I can sense that. Explain." Her eyes, though, had softened when she realized the effect of what she had said, and her heart dropped when she realized she might have deeply offended him, the opposite effect of what she had wanted to do.
"Not until you rest. K told me you were sick, and you look as if you're about to die." Cassian returned, concern slipping into his voice as he accepted the unspoken apology from Rowan.
Rowan shook her head negatively. "I'm not that sick; it's just a cou-" And she doubled over, coughing loudly and deeply, the noise wet and cracking, causing Cassian a great amount of distress.
"Just a cough?" He attempted to smirk, to joke, but the worry that filled him prevented that. He helped her straighten out, wincing at the pain in his side, and she did, watching him with grateful eyes.
"Fine." She nodded, face contorted in pain but resigned to her fate. "I'll take a shower or something."
"No. I'll take you to the infirmary. You'll be better there." Cassian put a hand on her shoulder, leaning down a little in an attempt to force her to meet his eyes.
Again, she shook her head negatively. "Don't. They freak out when they treat demigods. I have nectar and ambrosia. I'll be fine, just let me get cleaned up, and then we'll talk."
Cassian nodded, and Rowan returned the motion, seeming reluctant to walk away, but shrugging off whatever she felt and moving forward, before Cassian stopped her by calling her name. She turned, eyebrows knit together in concern.
"I... Do you have any ambrosia with you? I broke my ribs and my arms..." He trailed off, unwilling to explain.
Rowan's eyes widened. "You know what? Just come with me. I'll help you, and then you can go eat."
- - -
Luke decided, as the four of them hurried back through the maze of underground caverns, that Clover weighed far more than he looked. The satyr was leaning heavily on him as they followed Maz, who followed the sudden new addition to their party, the "werewolf" Clover had attempted to warn Luke about. Clover seemed indignant that the creature he feared had actually saved his life, and Luke couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at the satyr's wounded pride. Evidently Clover was less amused.
"So he shows up, saves my life, and we're just supposed to trust him like that?" He whispered to Luke.
Luke shrugged with his free shoulder; the other, supporting the satyr, made their shadows look like the two-headed circus attractions that him and Rowan had watched in cartoons all those years ago. The thought of Rowan made his head hurt. He had a feeling, deep in his bones, that the prophecy had a lot to do with her... and a lot to do with the man that was hurriedly leading them.
"Yes. You are." The answer to Clover's question came from the man himself.
It was Luke's turn to be irritated. "Who are you, anyway?"
The werewolf stopped in his tracks and turned to face the rest of them, bustling along, injured in various places, behind him. In a flash of drama, the man gracefully extended his arms and bowed mockingly. "I am Romulus, son of Mars, the god of war."
Clover's eyes widened. "Romulus... Romulus, as in the founder of Rome?" He stumbled over his words.
Romulus nodded. "Yes," he said, though Luke couldn't help but notice the flash of sorrow in his eyes, the grim tone in his voice, "Romulus, as in the founder of Rome, exiled for his crimes against the Olympians and his people."
"But you died... like four thousand years ago." Clover's amazement persisted.
The shadows of the caverns made it difficult to see the entirety of the man's face, though the lines of age about his eyes tightened. "My death was faked. Lupa gave me the gift, or the curse, of immortality upon my exile. She believed I had done a great thing in my founding of an empire that would bring the world to its knees. It has taken me these four thousand years to understand that, while Rome was good in little, it was wrong in much. I gave Earth civilized culture, but the amount that I killed in my attempts to do so makes the good of my city, my nation, my empire, pale in comparison to the bad."
As he spoke, his voice was grave, old, tired, and suddenly Luke could see the age in his eyes that glinted in what little light filtered into the caverns from the massive fire they had left behind with Polyphemus's corpse. Romulus was old, and not just in years.
Silence suddenly overwhelmed the four. Luke noticed Maz watching the werewolf, the god, with compassionate eyes, and remembered that Maz herself was over a thousand years old. He imagined his own life, dragging along for hundreds of thousands of years, his regrets not fading, but growing with time, his guilt made plain to him every waking hour, every waking day, with nothing, no action he could do, to purge himself of that pain. He suddenly realized what a blessing mortality was, how, even if the life he lived afterward were to stretch into an eternity, death would be the door through with he could leave all his guilt behind. As he pondered, his eyebrows knit together, Clover felt his charge's body stiffen in thought.
Suddenly, Luke broke the silence. "Why are you helping us?"
Romulus, who had been watching the effect of his words on the group, suddenly fixed his eyes upon Luke's, blue clashing against blue, the pained brilliance of immortality against the pained dullness of mortality.
Romulus laughed grimly. "Because you need help. The war you and your people are about to face will dwarf all others in comparison, Luke."
"You mean the prophecy." Luke stated, dread seeping into his gut.
"I mean the prophecy." Romulus confirmed, nodding grimly.
"Who are we fighting?"
Romulus paused for a moment; pain, pity, sorrow, even fear passed through his eyes. His face contorted with dread and compassion, and he searched desperately for the words to answer, but looking before him, upon these injured mortals, bleeding, broken, still moving, he was suddenly filled with courage and pity. They were strong; they would prevail; but he didn't know how many they would lose before they did.
"Kronos intends to inhabit the body of his only half-blood son through his death. Rowan is currently with him, protecting him. With that foothold, he will go to Earth, to join in the alliance that your friends currently face. The alliance..." Romulus sighed. The dread in the room deepened.
"The alliance is between Tartarus and Ouranos, the father of Kronos. Together, they are more powerful than any force that any world has ever seen."
Luke swallowed past the fear choking him. "What do we need to do?"
"We need a ship."