Hey what's up! We are in the middle of a pandemic, so now I thought would be a good time to update this story. Unfortunately, I work in a clinic so I am considered an "essential worker" so no extended break for me.
Anyway, I apologize for the long wait. Lots of things had happened and fandoms happened and yeah.
Thank you to everyone who has commented and kudos during this hiatus and being patient with me
Enjoy!
…
…
Nobody let her anywhere near any nurseries in the next shelter.
It was probably for the best, but it made her sad.
The next day had them holed up in the base. There had been a change of plans in the next step of their excursion. The following day would proceed as planned: visiting the sprawling cultural center that all seemed to consider as the one bright spot in the blight that was Kadara.
Sara confessed herself excited for that prospect, but now, she wanted to crawl out of her skin in restlessness. She didn't even know why they couldn't visit the last of the shelters, but apparently, they were dealing with an illness that, while generally non-fatal, brought too much risk for the Prince and Princess. The supplies for the last shelter would still get there, but the press that the first two had received wouldn't arrive in the same way.
Jaal had been off doing...whatever it was that he did when she wasn't around. Perhaps he met with the shelter directors over vid-con as an attempt at outreach.
She wanted a drink. She wanted to be not Princess Sara for two moments. That was all she wanted. This entire trip was diplomatic meetings and speeches and dealing with fawning people who wanted the throne's good graces and funding.
Princess-this, ma'am-that. Bowing and curtseying. It was suddenly so grating.
As a princess, she knew how to sneak around. She knew how to get around curfews and guard changes and how to hotwire speeders.
It was all too easy to leave the base. That should have been disconcerting to her, something to be brought up to Liam later. She was going to take advantage of it while she could.
She wrapped a pretty scarf around her hair, other across the bottom half of her face. In the harsh lights of a nightclub, nobody would be able to recognize her and nobody would think that the princess of Hyperion would be out in a seedy nightclub in Kadara.
As she parked the nondescript speeder, she wondered if it would be better to stay above ground in the more populated bars or wander into some of the seedier corners.
She passed by a loud neon sign for Kralla's Song. It was full of people and music blasted from stereos and she somehow knew that this would be the kind of place where she would be discovered.
As Sara moved down the streets, things got darker and dirtier. She pulled her hood over her head and squared her shoulders. She had been in seedy places, but this was on a different level. There weren't the same protections as there were in the other kingdoms. Each area had its underbelly, but even the worst couldn't compare.
Feeling distinctly like she was going to get stabbed in the guts if she didn't get off of the streets, she scanned the storefronts and buildings.
"Tartarus Bar," she breathed.
That sounded like something out of one of Alec's old-timey movies. It was cheesy and seemed quite overblown for what it was.
That didn't stop her from pushing her way in and into the crowd.
The first thing she noticed was the cages where dancers—human, asari, and turian—gyrated and shimmied for a rowdy audience. The Sara of mere months ago would have been intrigued by it, but the bodies were too slim and their silhouettes were too small.
She refused to acknowledge the tiny voice in her mind that pointed out exactly what and who she was looking for when she thought of a good time.
Tearing her eyes from the stage, she walked further into the bar. It seemed like there were mostly humans in the bar with asari, turian, and even some angara milling around.
They all seemed to be gambling or dealing drugs or grinding on each other like they would die if their bodies were even an inch apart.
Sara immediately felt gross and way too sober for this. She could already imagine what kind of bodily fluids she was stepping in and rubbing off onto her as people brushed past her.
In the corner, right in the middle of the bedlam, a human male with dark hair and smoldering stare met her eyes.
For a moment, he looked her over with the same lasciviousness that she would expect from a strange man in a strange bar. Then, his eyes lingered a bit too long on her face.
His eyes fell to the omni-tool on his wrist and back to her. Sara hoped, prayed that he didn't recognize her.
Her prayers clearly went unanswered as he raised a glass to her with a knowing smirk. It seemed very acted, as if he was just as shaken by seeing her. He stood, nonchalant, as if daring her to come over and confront him.
Shit.
He seemed vaguely familiar, perhaps from the royal escort or a Hyperion plant meant to get intelligence from Kadara's underground.
Heart in her throat, she ordered a drink—something sweet and hard enough to get her tipsy fast—and sidled up into the man's space, just close enough that he would be able to hear her over the loud music.
"I'm sure you'll keep quiet," Sara said, sipping on her cocktail.
She watched a cheeky grin grow on his face, the bar's lights reflected off of his teeth.
"I wouldn't do anything to harm the royal crown," he drawled.
It took hearing his voice for her to realize who he was. Sara's blood went cold.
"I know who you are."
Fine, Sara did go looking as soon as Liam had mentioned that Scott found himself a new boyfriend. There was an extensive file on everyone who worked or had ever worked under the royal crest, so it didn't take a huge amount of searching. She listened to recordings of his voice and read over his history.
She knew him before ever meeting him.
"Reyes Vidal."
He bowed cheekily, completely at ease with the fact that she knew his name. "At your service."
Oh no, of course Scott would choose someone irritating to fool around with.
"Why are you here?" she demanded.
"I am part of the escort, off duty until we depart. I asked my C.O. for leave and got it."
She nodded. He was within his rights to be here, though it would raise questions to why part of the royal escort seemed so at home with such a seedy group.
"I'm sure I don't need to request that my presence here in particular is not shared with my superior officers or His Majesty."
She smiled tightly. So, he had leave, but wasn't meant to be in such a seedy bar. If that was so, why was he here? "You want me to lie for you, should it come up?"
"An act of omission. Nothing more."
That wasn't going to fly with her. She wouldn't lie to everyone just because this man asked. Why was he here, amongst drug dealers and criminals?
"What's in it for me?"
"I have very little to bargain with, Your Highness. Though, I'm sure Scott wouldn't be happy if I was suddenly booted off the job and unable to see him ever again."
She didn't give away any tells, but she knew that he had won. Despite everything, she knew that there was no winning for her. She either let Reyes get away with whatever he was doing or break Scott's heart.
Any buzz that she tried to enjoy was overtaken by something bitter and angry. Leave it to Scott to somehow ruin a night out without even trying.
She retraced her steps back to her speeder, growling at a ruffian who wandered a little too close to her. The guttural sound and the flash of an omni-blade chased him off.
When she arrived at the outpost, it was clear that news of her disappearance was just circulating. The lights were all on and people were milling around with more energy that she remembered when she left mere hours earlier.
She stuffed the scarves in her pockets, allowing the guards to see her face. Commlinks went alive as they looked her over, reporting to the rest of the base that the wayward princess had been found.
None of that really bothered her. It wasn't the first time that she shook off her royal guard, though she was less likely to do so than Scott was.
She could see the lights were on in her quarters.
She shrugged to herself, figuring that she had left them on before she left. When the door opened, she startled.
In the little sitting area was Jaal, standing in the middle of the couches with his arms crossed over his chest, like a father waiting for a disobedient child to return from sneaking out.
"Where have you been?"
Oh no, he even sounded like it, as if they weren't grown adults.
Sara stiffened at the accusatory tone. "Out."
"Out," he echoed. It almost sounded mocking. "In a place so dangerous as Kadara?"
She walked past him, throwing her jacket over the back of a chair. Now, she wished she had gotten absolutely hammered at that club. It would've made this conversation easier.
"I could handle myself." She slapped her omni-blade and pistol on the table, just to punctuate her words.
"You didn't think to tell me where you were going?"
"I'm not going to report my every outing to you."
"As your betrothed—"
No. This wasn't happening. He couldn't be controlling over her. She wouldn't allow it. "I'm a grown woman, Prince Jaal. Being stuck here is stifling and I wanted a night out."
Jaal drew himself tall, looking down at her, sniffing, "I didn't realize my company was such an unpleasant thing."
That wasn't what she meant at all, but irritation built like a volcano.
She didn't want to look at him.
"I have no idea what sort of value the people on Heleus places on privacy, but you will do well to respect mine," she spat.
Something like hurt flashed across his face and she turned her back to him. The conversation was over. She was tired and she just wanted to forget that this night ever happened.
"I see. I will get out of your way, then."
She didn't move as he left the room and didn't move for many minutes afterward.
…
…
The cultural center was beautiful, a sprawling place with multiple buildings, all well-maintained and bright. It was a shame that Sara was in such a bad mood, making it nearly impossible for her to actually enjoy the sights.
She had tossed and turned all night, getting only snatches of sleep. The sleep that she did get was plagued by shadows, leaving her exhausted when the time came to be escorted across the state to one of the last legs of their trip.
It couldn't have been more obvious that she and Jaal got in a spat the night before. Any of the gentle camaraderie that seemed to dominate the headlines was ice-cold.
Sara wished that it wasn't so obvious but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to be coddled and locked away. She had enough of that back at Hyperion.
If Jaal couldn't handle her wandering off every so often, that was his problem, not hers.
While the shelters housed the refugee angara who lived in Kadara, this center seemed to attempt to embody angara culture.
Sara twitched a little when the tour guide gushed about Sloane Kelly's generosity in funding such a place. There was definitely some of the human's influence touching the center. The guards were clearly under her payroll: mostly humans and turians. Everyone else was angara, enjoying the displays.
They went to the gallery first, which was a shiny, columned building with what Sara assumed was Shelesh etched into the metal. If they weren't ignoring each other, she would have stopped Jaal and asked him to translate what it said.
She went inside instead, not caring if he followed. The tour guide was in-step with her, chattering about the funding to build the structure and how many people contributed to the pieces displayed. Sara was only half-listening. The colors immediately caught her eye, along with how the art had sharp and angular lines.
Up close, she realized that almost all of the art had a similar theme as well. The war had touched every aspect. Even the bright paintings of love and joy had the tinge of loss. Depictions of parties had the evocation of missing members and the threat of attack. Lovers had the knowledge that separation was more than likely, by death or distance.
In the center of the cavernous room was a single statue.
From afar, Sara could tell it was statue of a female angara carrying a child in her arms, made of mottled silver and copper. The lines weren't completely smooth. Up close, she saw that it was built entirely out of spent bullet casings and gun clips.
Sara couldn't help but stare wordlessly. She didn't want to look at the little placard next to the statue that described the work. She didn't want to know if the artist made this in tribute to the living or the dead. A sinking feeling in her gut told there that it was likely the latter.
There was too much attention made to the faces, as if evoking certain people.
"The artist's family," Jaal said flatly. "Killed in a kett raid."
Sara looked over to see that Jaal had joined her. His eyes stared forward blankly and she didn't know how he knew who the subjects of the sculpture were. Maybe that assumption was ingrained in him. The entire museum seemed to be steeped in remembrance.
"The artist has since returned to Heleus to fight in the war," the tour guide offered hesitantly.
"I can feel his grief," Jaal breathed. He reached out towards the statue, almost touching, before his hand dropped away.
Sara watched his expression crumple.
"My heart breaks to see how my people have suffered in this war."
Every moment that passed, she was regretting this whole outing from the start. All it seemed to do was bring pain. There was so little they could do in their positions to alleviate the pain that they witnessed.
Sara couldn't return the baby's family to her and promise a safe future. Jaal couldn't bring the artist's family from the dead. All this seemed to do was make evident how helpless they were.
By all the stars, did Hyperion have such a place for their angara refugees, a place to express their pain? Was Sloane Kelly the only one who gave enough of a damn to give her people this gift?
She didn't even know where to begin. Jaal wept silently by her side and there was nothing she could do. If she couldn't do something for her betrothed, what could she do for anyone else?
"Shall we move on to the next building?" the tour guide offered softly.
Sara blinked, backing away from Jaal and the statue like they were raging fires that she needed to get away from before they could burn her. Sara nodded jerkily as a well of remorse threatened to overwhelm her. The urge to comfort tugged at her and she wanted to reach out.
"Ah, yes," she breathed. "I think we've had enough of this."
Coward.
Even stepping outside felt like suffocation. She was being watched and everyone could see her guilt. They exchanged grief and the inability to comfort. This engagement was already off to a rocky start and already the disconnects were apparent. She had wept and he couldn't comfort. He suffered and she lacked the courage to open up.
She stared out down the line of buildings, lost in thought. Gilded and clean, but housing so much pain.
Next, we would like to show you our astronomy center. Our work has been pivotal to the war effort, as well as in research of the stars.
Sara didn't move, even to look at the speaker. Instead, she started down the steps back down to the ground.
"Everything is very impressive," Sara murmured. Her voice sounded raspy even to her ears, so she cleared her throat.
Someone grunted in agreement behind her. Perhaps it was Jaal, but she couldn't recognize the voice.
She forced herself to hold her head high as they continued down the road. There was a shadow behind her and she could just barely hear his sniffling and hitching breath.
The quick thumping of footfall and a vicious howl sounded.
"Sara!"
Her name boomed in her ear, familiar and foreign in the same breath. Her mouth hung open in a wordless gasp as Jaal was suddenly in her space, one arm wrapping around her waist and hauling her off her feet.
The exchange of gunfire was the answer to the unspoken question that jumped to the front of her mouth. She could hear bolts impact on stone and a chorus of frightened screaming as Jaal dragged her between the two buildings and pinning her to the wall.
Jaal had her crowded so she couldn't see what was happening, but she fumbled for the pistol at her hip, ready to defend both Jaal and herself.
The footsteps and shouting of their security detail now surrounded on them. A scuffle, a gunshot, then a lull.
Jaal's grip didn't abate until she pushed against him, just enough to give him the hint that he didn't need to tower over her. She sucked in a shaky breath, heartbeat in her ears.
The arm around her waist and the hand at her arm turned soft and plaint as his attention now turned to the crowd of soldiers surrounding a fallen figure.
She could catch small bits of information from the voices around her.
A turian. Brazen attack. No insignia on his clothing.
Jaal let her go and pushed his way through the royal guard, ignoring the hands that tried to keep him away from the would-be assassin.
Sara followed close behind, just in time to see Jaal step forward with a growl, foot pressing down on the turian's smoking wound in his ribs. The turian wailed in pain, struggling underneath him.
"Who sent you?" Jaal hissed.
The turian's mandibles clicked open and close before he gurgled, "Drop dead, angara scum."
Jaal pressed harder for a moment before stepping off, standing back as the guards closed over the turian, locking his hands and feet with metal shackles.
Sara shivered a little where she stood.
He had called her by her name, no title.
She jumped when someone grabbed her by the elbow. Turning, she saw it was Liam, who regarded her with a tight brow.
"We need to go, my lady," he said.
Sara couldn't agree more, allowing him to lead her back to the transport, Jaal and more guardsmen on their heels.
"We're going back to Hyperion. This visit is over," Liam barked at the pilot. "Forget the aid on board. We will send it later. Go."
The ship shuddered to life and immediately took off. Now, the three of them stood in the seating area, all in different states of frustration, so caught up in their thoughts that they missed the boom of their escort joining them.
"Sloane Kelly was going to capitalize on this, dammit," Liam hissed, rubbing his hand over his brow. "I can hear it now: 'Hyperion's weakness.'"
Sara sighed in turn. Her jaw creaked at how hard she clenched her teeth. He was right, of course. Sloane Kelly would only use this to further her shaky legitimacy as ruler, bragging as the true human ruler of the planet.
"Sloane Kelly? To the beasts with Sloane Kelly," Jaal snapped. "It is clear that this place is not safe, even with all her guarantees. If she wants to meet with us, she can come to Hyperion herself."
Though the burst of emotion startled her, Sara kept her back to them both, hugging her arms around her torso.
She was familiar with attempts against her life, however purposeful they may be. This felt different. The gunshot, her name in Jaal's mouth, the curse from the would-be assassin, all of those sounds echoed in her head.
"Princess Sara?"
She winced, that tricky title tacked onto her name once again. It had been a one-time thing, apparently, a little slip in the moment.
She didn't move, but Jaal walked around into her field of view. She glanced up into his pained expression before she looked away at the ground.
His hands came up to gently touch her arms, stroking down to her wrists. His thumbs and forefingers wrapped around her wrists, pressing just enough that he could feel her pulse.
"Are you okay?" he asked, quietly.
Sara nodded shakily, leaning a little towards him. Adrift, searching for the nearest solid object.
"I'm okay," she replied before pausing. "Jaal."
She looked up again in time to see his mouth flap open and it was so cute that Sara had to stamp out the urge to kiss him. Why did they fight? Why did they deny themselves familiarity?
"I figure we can be on a first-name basis now."
A tiny smile quirked at his mouth and he led her to sit, sitting down next to her.
They were quiet before Sara spoke up. "Who was he aiming for?"
She didn't see the turian until after he had been taken down. She didn't even see where the shot had hit. It all happened so fast.
"It doesn't matter," Jaal mumbled.
Sara replied before she could check herself. "I think it does."
They were quiet for a long time. Sara wasn't sure that he was going to answer her at all.
"He was aiming for me, but he could've aimed for you." He shook his head. "I should've killed him for trying."
"It wouldn't be a good look. He should be interrogated, find out if there are others like him."
In times of old, Jaal would've been able to execute the turian on the spot without recourse, the right of nobility over the common folk. Times had changed and it would be a whole incident if Jaal had slit his throat as he lay pinned to the ground.
Jaal pouted for a moment. "Very well."
Sara shut her eyes for a moment to feel the ship humming.
It wasn't so simple to fly from the main city to Hyperion. They would have to stop off somewhere, change ships, and fly in an escort back home.
She opened her eyes again to look at Jaal. His hands fidgeted in his lap, his eyes following the movements.
"I miss the headdress," Sara said.
Jaal looked up to her. "Hm?"
She gestured over her head, immediately regretting opening her mouth but figuring it would be best to change the subject.
"The piece you wore when we first met. It's beautiful."
It seemed to be something that only Jaal and those of his stature could have. Nobody in the shelter had anything like it and she never had the courage to ask what it was.
He nodded. "Ah, yes. We call that casene. Every royal has their own made."
"Is it difficult to make?"
"It all depends on the complexity of the design. Mine is simple, as I am the fourth-born son."
"That is a simple design?"
Every thread seemed to be so painstakingly knit together. Each gem had to have been cut and placed into the threads. Not even the most intricate of Hyperion's royal jewels compared.
Jaal shrugged. "When we are married, my casene will be modified to symbolize are certain designs that symbolize marriage, parenthood, rank. My mother's casene flows down her back as far as her waist."
"For a queen?"
"A queen, yes, as well as mother."
Sara's mouth twitched. "If I'm crowned queen of Hyperion, can I get a casene like that?"
His expression turned very serious and Sara mentally reeled back. She meant it completely as a joke. She knew she would have the royal jewels to wear, but never even considered wearing what Jaal did.
She probably just insulted him with the suggestion.
"I can have that arranged, if you like."
"Oh," Sara murmured, relief and a strange feeling of excitement rushing in her chest.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, she forced herself to unhook her gauntlets from her wrists and set them on the table in front of them
She glanced up to see Jaal had tilted his head towards her.
"What are you doing?" Sara asked.
His eyes scanned her face and Sara blushed, unable to maintain a neutral expression.
"You have lovely eyes."
Thinking of nothing else to say, she leaned forward and touched her forehead to his shoulder. Part of her did it to hide the fiery-red blush that took hold over her face and another part just wanted to touch him. She took in a breath and smelled delicate perfume.
"Keep saying things like that and you're gonna get yourself in trouble," she mumbled.
His body moved with a quiet laugh. "Perhaps I like trouble. As I recall, you seem to like it as well."
His hand skimmed over hers and she looked up to see his face even closer than before.
He could've died. She could've died. And then what? One of them would've had to carry on with a plan never brought to fruition, that could never come to fruition. Their last interaction would have been a petty fight.
She wanted to kiss him and she wanted to shake him for being so foolish as be willing to take a bullet for her.
"Sara?" he asked.
"I—I forgot what I was going to say," Sara said, wide-eyed.
She supposed words weren't needed anymore. Sara took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers.
"Princess."
Sara winced, pulling away and turning to the interrupter. "Yes, Liam?"
At least Liam had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry, my lady. Your father has contacted you and is waiting on the line."
Oh, as if the interruption couldn't get any worse. If it were anyone else, she would've blown them off and asked Liam to give a generic message about how she was busy. No, couldn't do that to her father. She wouldn't get to hear the end of it.
Jaal squeezed her forearm.
"Go, my dear. Meet me here once you are done."
The endearment rang in her ears like a clear note in the short walk to the private comm room.
…
…
"Are you alright?" Alec asked as soon as the door slid shut behind her.
The note of concern in Alec's voice actually surprised her.
"I'm fine," she answered with a shrug. "It was close."
"The good captain tells me that the turian is being interrogated. Apparently, he holds both anti-Hyperion and anti-Heleus sentiments."
"He aimed for Jaal."
"I suppose either one of you dead would have satisfied him. Now, he will likely spend the rest of his life in prison for that."
That should've brought her some comfort, but it didn't. He couldn't have been the only one with similar sentiments. He was just the one who had the courage to try to act out those sentiments. And what if someone else, with more skill and more planning, tried to attack them.
"I want more security for Jaal. I don't want anyone to get any ideas and try to hurt him."
"He already has enough security."
The dismissive comment had her immediately bristling. To show concern for Sara was to be expected, but to be entirely callous about Jaal's wellbeing was uncharacteristically shortsighted.
"I want him protected as if he were me or Scott. Nothing less. Your deal with Heleus is finished if he dies or if he is so injured that Queen Sahuna breaks the agreement and has him brought back to Heleus."
Alec pursed his lips. "Very well."
The easy capitulation also surprised her, but she quickly realized that she was likely being tested.
He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Well, it was a good performance at the shelter."
Sara blinked at him. While she always expected a gauntlet thrown in her path whenever she spoke with Alec, this was especially convoluted and sharp. "What do you mean?"
"The little scene at the nursery. You are on the front page of every news outlet on Nexus and Heleus."
"Oh," she said flatly. "That's good."
"The tears were a little much, in my opinion, but it definitely sold it."
Understanding whacked her over the head and she could only sputter, "It wasn't an act."
Now it was Alec's turn to stare at her.
"Ah, I see."
A heavy silence descended and Sara could already imagine the lecture that Alec was lining up in his head.
She didn't have to wait too long before he leaned forward. "While the weepy princess act will get you some places, Sara, it won't get you everywhere. You can't be a bleeding heart for every angara orphan that you happen across. We can't afford to lose sight of the bigger picture."
"And is the bigger picture not ending this war, so that there are no more orphan angara children?"
"The bigger picture is making sure that humanity survives for the foreseeable future. By extension, that means the rest of the sentient species native to this solar system survive as well."
"Humanity has been the underdog since history began, Sara. I have tried to drill this into your head. We are damn lucky all those years ago Queen Shepard managed to secure a seat at the table for humanity. Our species would've faced annihilation or absorbed into an eternal fiefdom under the other species if she hadn't."
Her mouth hung open in shock, a dozen responses swirling in her head but nothing coherent coming together.
"Our grip is slipping, with Kadara at home and a war a world away, we must be strong."
"I am strong."
He leaned in closer, his lip curling with that same calculating coldness that she had become so used to.
"Prove it."
The challenge hung in the air. His image blipped out of existence and Sara shut her eyes. She understood what he meant; she really did. She just wished he wasn't so harsh about it all the time.
Sara rose from her seat and shuffled back into the cabin. She felt like the world had come down on her shoulders. Her 'vacations' from Hyperion could never actually be vacations. It was almost insulting that Alec thought she believed that.
She sat heavily next to Jaal, sighing.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Sara bit her lip before shaking her head.
"Do you wish to talk about it?"
How could she even begin to explain what had just happened? It would only sour his opinion of Alec, something that they didn't need.
She shook her head again.
"No. It's okay."
It wasn't okay, but she put on a brave smile.
Jaal's hand brushed over hers. It was as if the argument they had the night before had never happened. They were right back to where they were before.
No, not quite. Things had changed.
"Rest."
She nodded before crossing her arms over her chest and sinking further into the seat. When they landed and she was jolted from sleep, it was clear that she had leaned over and her head had rested on Jaal's shoulder. He seemed unaffected from it; it even seemed like he took pleasure in being her impromptu pillow.
The next day, slapped over every news outlet throughout Nexus and, according to Jaal, Heleus was a blurry picture of Jaal grabbing Sara, protecting her from the assassin.
Sara couldn't help the swell of affection at that, though Alec's words brought a bitter edge to it.
While Jaal didn't reach for her hand in the following days, his smiles were softer and more affectionate. Sara always returned them and the warm, tingly feeling seemed to take a firmer grip in her chest.
…
Yay! Romance! Pining!
Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! I work in a clinic so days are long and difficult, even more so nowadays. Every kind word brings me more motivation to work on this story!
Cheers!
