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This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade. If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.
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General Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors. Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse. I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.
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Details:
Name: Miracle
Time Frame: Post-NJO
Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo
Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life. What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?
Rating: PG to PG-13.
Post: Chapter 3 of ?
Story Status: Work in Progress.
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As always, reviews are appreciated.
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Kyp's arms cradled her. Though his hands on her back were gentle, Jaina could feel the fierce possessiveness he was trying to hide from her. It was in the way his hand had shaken when he had first pulled her close, in the way that his thumb brushed circles along her lower back. But most of all, it was in his eyes when he watched her.
Jaina had stopped crying. The grief was still there, the numbness, but there was no embarrassment and no shame in her mind. Which, she decided, was oddly. She would have– should have– felt some embarrassment at falling apart and crying her eyes out ... in front of Kyp Durron, no less. The Jaina of ten years ago would have been horrified.
But something kept her quiet and calm and peaceful after her crying jag. Some memory trying to come back to her? Some part of her subconscious telling her that she had done this before, that she was safe here?
Jaina considered that for a moment, and then mentally filed it away. It was an interesting line of thought and she should pursue it ... but not now. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at Kyp's shoulder. She took a deep breath, mostly full of Kyp's scent, and lifted her head away from his chest. His arms around her immediately loosened, and he let her lean away from him. She felt somehow disappointed.
Interesting reaction, disappointment. She noted it, a bit surprised, then ordered herself back to the task at hand. She looked up at Kyp and met his eyes. "I suppose I should go back home now."
He barely flinched at the word home, but nodded. "I'll walk you back," he told her as he stood. He swung his black cape over his shoulders– that Jaina remembered, as she couldn't think of a time he hadn't worn it on Yavin 4– and picked up the small bag he'd packed for her.
The sun had set, and it was much cooler outside. Barely a minute after they had left the rooms, Jaina ventured, "Can I ask a question about my parents?"
Kyp glanced down at her. "Sure, Goddess."
Goddess. She made a mental note to think about that little nickname later. "How do they– I mean, how do I– or we . . ." She gave up and simply sighed. "Kyp, how do I get along with them? Are we friends?" She crossed her arms in front of her to ward off the cool night air. "How do they treat me?"
Kyp stopped, set down the bag, and turned to face her. "Jaina," he said gently, "your parents love you." His hands worked at the ties of his cape; he swirled it off his shoulders and draped it over hers. "You're friends with them. You respect them." She could feel his fingers tying the cape in place, brushing against the soft skin of her throat. "You had some issues with your mom early on in the war, but you worked those out." He met her eyes as he pulled the cape close around her. "They're both very proud of you. You shouldn't be scared of them."
Because she was, she gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."
He smiled back at her, green eyes warm and tender and somehow sad. "Anything for a Goddess." One rough hand brushed loose strands of her hair back, then slid behind her neck and slowly tugged her hair out from under the cape.
Jaina looked at him, really looked, for the first time since she had woken in the medical wing. He was still physically bigger than her; he was some inches taller and had the lean muscled build of a fighter pilot. His eyes were still a dark green with the barest hint of brown– darker than Zekk's emerald eyes, harder to define, but somehow just as familiar and comforting. Black hair still fell to just past his shoulders, slightly wavy and disheveled, and it still framed the same strong face.
But not everything was the same. As he turned and picked up the bag, returning to their silent walk, Jaina catalogued the toll of ten years.
The few strands of grey hair that Jaina remembered her father teasing Kyp about now warred with the black for dominance. While the black was currently winning, she suspected that it wouldn't take many more years before the Jedi Master went wholly grey. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, creases that Jaina would have assumed to be laugh lines if she could have pictured the brooding rogue Jedi laughing.
She wondered if she had been able to make him laugh.
She wrapped the cape around her as the wind picked up, and thought. As they entered the building, she asked quietly, "When were we supposed to be married?"
He glanced down at her, eyes guarded, and when he answered, his voice was neutral. "In twenty days."
"Oh."
She was silent again. All she seemed capable of doing was questioning and thinking. They reached her parents' door, and as Kyp lifted his hand to enter the code, she made her decision and stopped him.
"Kyp," she said hesitantly, "I know this isn't fair to you, and I'm sorry."
He avoided her gaze. "It's not your fault," he told her.
Jaina looked down, to where her hand rested on his arm. "It's not yours, either," she pointed out. "And I know this is asking a lot of you, but I'm going to need–"
"–time," Kyp interrupted wearily, finishing her sentence, dropping her bag onto the floor.
She frowned. "Well, probably. But I'm going to need help, Kyp." His head swung up and incredulous green eyes met hers. She smiled faintly. "However unlikely I think it is, you're a big part of the ten years I can't remember. You probably know my pretty well by now, right?" He nodded, and she hurried on before he could speak, trying to keep him from looking away. "I need a friend, Kyp. Someone I can talk to and ask questions. Someone I was friends with before." She stepped closer to him nervously. "I know this has probably messed up all the reasons why you wanted to marry me, I know you might not like me much now that I'm ten years behind, but can you please still help me?"
Kyp was staring at her as though she'd been speaking Ithorian. For a long, horrible second, Jaina was sure she'd asked too much of him. Then, "I'll help," he agreed, voice low. "On one condition."
She took a deep breath. "Name it."
He reached down between them and lifted up her left hand. He ran his thumb across the engagement ring. "Leia is going to want to cancel this." He let her hand fall and smiled wryly. "You're probably wondering why you agreed to marry me in the first place. My condition is that you take a few days to think it over before you give me back the ring."
Jaina involuntarily closed her hand, her thumb automatically coming to rest on the smooth metal and rough crystals. He expected her to back out.
And hadn't she considered doing so? Hadn't the idea of marrying Kyp Durron, killer of Carida, rogue Jedi, and practically a stranger– hadn't the idea of marrying him panicked her?
He was asking her to think it over. He wasn't asking her to marry him on the strength of her old self's promise. All he was asking was for her to honestly try and see why she– why her old self– had agreed to marry him.
She opened her hand. "A week," she said abruptly, and saw his eyes narrow. She elaborated. "Seven days. I'll think it over for seven days before I make a decision."
"Seven days," he agreed. "It's more than I could have asked for."
Jaina licked her lips nervously. "Then you'll come back tomorrow so we can talk?"
"I will." He hesitated, then bent down and kissed her cheek lightly, chastely, lips light against her skin. "Sleep well, Goddess." And then Kyp turned and quickly strode away.
Jaina's breath came out in a whoosh. He'd agreed to help her, and all she had to do was to think about things. And hadn't she intended to think things over as it was? She bent and slung the bag over her shoulder. A reasonable condition. She put her hand over the keypad to enter the code, and paused. Her hand hovered, wavered, and finally fell back to her side.
"Damn it," she growled, and knocked.
Her mother was the one to answer. "Hi, Mom," she said a bit sheepishly. "I don't remember the code, I guess."
Leia only smiled at her. "It's all right," she said, and then peered down the hallway as Jaina entered. "Where's Kyp? He knows the code."
"He went back home," Jaina tossed over her shoulder, moving toward her room. "He's coming back tomorrow so we can talk a bit more."
Leia followed Jaina to her room, pausing in the doorway. "Jaina, about Kyp," she began, but Jaina dropped the back and turned to her.
"I want some time to think things over."
Leia seemed pleased. "You talked with him, then?"
"I did." Jaina brought a hand up and with two quick tugs undid Kyp's knot. "I have a lot of things to think about," she said. With an expert flick of her wrist, she whirled the cape off of her shoulders and in the same fluid motion had it neatly hung on the corner of her chair. She stared at Kyp's cape for a long moment before she turned to her mother and demanded, "How did I do that?"
Leia shrugged, mouth twitching a bit with what might have been amusement. "Tekli said you'd remember actions you've done many times before. You've certainly done that enough times to remember how."
"I have?" She gazed at the cape, puzzled, but it was definitely the one Kyp always wore: black, faintly shimmery, and silky-smooth. "Really?"
Her confusion must have been obvious; her mother smiled and came to stand beside her. "See how worn the hem is?" she asked. "It drags just a little when you wear it because it was made for Kyp and he's taller than you. He's always making you wear it because you always forget a jacket or he just thinks you're cold." Good humor colored Leia's voice. "He's trying to take care of you. You never want to wear it– you always tell him you're all grown up and can dress yourself, and you think it's too dramatic. But somehow you always wind up with it. It's Kyp's way of knowing you're warm enough, I think, so he won't worry about you." Her smile faltered. "I think your father was going to give you one of your own since you wind up wearing Kyp's so often. As a joke for your wedding."
"Oh," Jaina said, still staring at the ragged hemline of the cape.
Leia hugged her. "Get some sleep, Jaina," she said. "I know it's early, but you're just out of bacta and need to rest."
Jaina gave her mother a wry smile. "I'm all right, you know," she pointed out. "It's not as though I'm hobbling around about to collapse."
"I know," Leia said, and kissed her forehead. "But I'm your mother. I'm entitled to worry over you a bit."
"Good night, Mom."
"Goodnight, sweetie."
But four hours later, wearing a soft nightgown from the closet– she wasn't sure she wanted to see what she wore to sleep around Kyp yet, so she hadn't yet opened the bag he'd packed her– Jaina lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, still wide awake.
She tossed and turned, oddly uncomfortable. She drifted off to sleep a few times, only to wake with her hand clutching empty sheets. Sighing, she pushed back the covers and stood. There was too much to think about for her to sleep. She swung to her feet and cursed softly as she encountered the cold floor. Shivering, she fumbled in the dark and found Kyp's cape. Wrapping it firmly around herself– it may have been overly dramatic, but it was warm– she slid out of her room and made her way through the darkened rooms to the main window.
She settled down in the chair, pulled her feet up and tucked them under Kyp's cape, and stared out into the night. It was just after midnight. Threepio was propped against the wall, powered down, and the building was quiet and dark.
Jaina took a deep breath. The cape still smelled like Kyp, spicy and male, and somehow it was comforting. She leaned back, ordering her thoughts so she could begin to go through them ...
... and fell soundly asleep.
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Reviews make my day! Tell me what you think I did well or horribly. I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…
Thanks!
-Keth
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