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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 15 of ?
Story Status: Work in Progress.
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As always, reviews are appreciated.
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The Nissia shivered and hummed as it flung itself through hyperspace. Jag sat quietly at the table, hands neatly folded around a cup of caf. Meera'gi and Oshilei had wisely claimed they had duties to attend to, and Jag had the suspicion that they had both locked themselves into the cockpit. It had probably been a wise decision.
He eyed the pair before him. Jaina was pacing, each step somehow a study in exasperation, arms tight and forcefully still at her sides. Her eyes danced with temper and color rode high on her cheeks. Jag had to take a sip of his caf to hide his grin; he agreed with Kyp in that she was beautiful when she was angry. Fortunately, he disagreed with Kyp and wasn't fool enough to intentionally provoke her into it. He was sure that had been why he had dated her for so long and remained basically unscathed.
But Kyp hadn't intentionally provoked Jaina this time. He was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room- which really wasn't all that far away, the Nissia's living space being rather cramped. His arms were crossed and his face had gone stern and harsh and determined; anger burned somewhere in his green eyes. But where Jaina's eyes flickered and sparked with fury, his eyes burned steady and constant.
Yes, a wise man would have left the room with Meera'gi and Oshilei. But Jag had seen them argue before, and he knew that the presence of an innocent bystander somewhat toned down their arguments. For the sake of the small space of the Nissia and the fact that they had another two days before they reached Csilla, Jag was ready to sacrifice himself as the innocent bystander and hope that they calmed down.
Soon.
He didn't particularly enjoy seeing them fight like this. The banter, the flirting, the quick insults shot back and forth that were, somehow, their strange form of endearments- that he didn't mind. Jaina and Kyp were, after all, two of his best friends. His best friends, actually, if he didn't count the Chiss he had grown up alongside. He had been rather proud of the fact that he'd been able to convince Jaina to speak with Kyp. When the two of them had announced their engagement, Jag had felt as though he had somehow paid both of them back for their friendship over the years.
When he'd said as much to them, they'd only laughed, and Jaina had told him, "You can take that two ways, you realize. You either think we're great friends and deserve to be happy or that we're terrible friends and deserve to have to put up with each other all the time."
He hadn't considered the second reason, but it fit all the same. They put up with each other remarkably well, all things considered.
Jag winced as the argument resumed. Most of the time, that was.
"Last chance," Jaina said, pacing her way to in front of Kyp and stopping.
Kyp didn't flinch away; he remained still and glared down at her. "No."
A breath hissed out from between Jaina's teeth as she fought to control her temper. Somewhere, Jag wondered why the two people who knew what the Dark Side was from their own experience could so easily provoke the other into a rage. Anger was of the Dark Side- wasn't that what Tahiri had explained so long ago?
But he was forced to admit that both Jedi before him were admirably controlling their tempers. It was probably why they got along so well. Neither of them would risk a point where the Dark Side became an option.
Jaina called Kyp something Jag figured it best to pretend he hadn't heard. "Come on, Kyp, you can take memories away so well- I'm sure you can help bring them back." Her voice was taunting, insulting.
The fury in Kyp's eyes rose a notch. "That's right," he said coldy. "I've got more experience than you playing around with people's minds. I know exactly what could go wrong. And so there's not a chance I'll do it, thanks all the same."
Jaina had come to stand right before him, and she now had her hands on her hips. "It's been two weeks," she hissed. "Tekli said-"
"I don't care what Tekli said!" Kyp's arms uncrossed and grabbed Jaina's shoulders. "She's not here, is she?"
Jag hoped that this would die out soon. Whenever arguments became physical around them, they tended to lead to either the kiss-and-make-up stage or lightsaber duels followed by the kiss-and-make-up stage. He simply considered the fact that neither of them could finish an argument without a kiss further proof that they belonged together.
Besides, he was really hoping that they would stop arguing and kiss. The Nissia's common room didn't have nearly enough room for a lightsaber fight.
To Jag's relief, though, the argument appeared to be finally dying down. "Damn you, Kyp," Jaina said, but the heat in her voice had lessened. "I want to remember."
Her voice had wobbled on that last word, and with that, the anger melted out of Kyp's frame. The hands on her shoulders loosened; his voice softened. "I know you do."
It looked as though Jaina might cry. Jag set his caf down carefully and rose, trying to move as quietly as possible. He slipped through the door into the corridor before Jaina could reply, and made his way to his room. He shut and locked his door, and glanced at the chrono. It was early, but it was probably the decent thing to do to turn it a bit early and not play voyeur on their kiss-and-make-up stage of fighting.
Jagged moved about the room with precise steps, shedding his jacket and shirt before dimming the lights and stretching out on the bottom bunk. He'd locked the door; there was no way for either Kyp or Jaina to beg a safe haven for the night. They'd have to deal with each other first. Jag had no intention of getting between the two of them again. Besides, they had been strangely silent the past few nights- not that he had been listening; he'd just expected to hear more than nothing. This was Kyp and Jaina.
He felt a frown crease his features. He wanted Jaina to be happy. Having Kyp as a lover made Jaina happy. If they weren't lovers, then Jaina wasn't as happy as she should be. He sighed. He'd done his level best to play matchmaker before, and it had started the whole process. He really didn't want to have to try again to finish it all.
Besides, he had enough problems of his own. He took a deep breath and leaned his head back. Thoughts of golden hair and bright eyes invaded his mind, and he did his best to banish them as he exhaled. But as usual, the vision persisted, and he cursed himself. And wished that he could instead curse a young man who had died and left her alone to mourn, alone to fight to exist, alone to sit at the edge of their circle of friends, alone to... Just alone.
But he couldn't find it in him to curse the dead, so instead he settled on cursing himself for loving someone who loved the dead.
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Kyp's hands on her shoulders gentled, and his thumbs stroked against her collarbones. "I know you do," he said, and his voice was no longer tight and furious.
Jaina fought not to cry. She wouldn't cry. She had promised she wouldn't cry. "It's not fair," she said. "You can help me, you're good at all those Jedi mind tricks..." She reached out for him in desperation, and didn't mind when he pulled her close so she could stand securely wrapped in his arms. She shut her eyes and held him tighter. "Please."
"No," he said quietly, breath stirring the top of her hair. She tucked her head against her shoulder and told herself she wouldn't cry. "I can't."
"Why not?" she asked, not liking how small her voice had become.
He didn't reply for a long moment. "I don't want to hurt you," he said at last. "Tekli said to wait a few weeks before we tried."
"It's been two weeks, Kyp," she pointed out, clinging to that bright strand of hope.
His sigh rumbled through his chest; she didn't open her eyes. "Jaina, give it one more week. One more week and I promise I'll help you."
One more week. Seven whole days of having memories dance so close to her consciousness only to retreat and hide the minute she caught sight of them. Seven whole days of knowing they were there and just out of reach.
"Promise?" she asked, opening her eyes and leaning back enough to look at him. "Promise?"
He seemed to understand, and nodded. "I won't leave you to deal with them," he said, and one of his hands left her back to cup her cheek. "I promise in a week I'll try to help you get them back. But there's nothing that says I'll be able to-"
"I don't care," she said. "You'll try." It wasn't a question.
Kyp sighed again. "Yes, Goddess, I'll try." And he bent and kissed her, softly, gently, as though he was afraid she was going to break.
She felt like she would. To have everything so near, so close, but so impossibly far- she felt as though she was being pulled apart. So she let herself be cherished, let herself enjoy the way Kyp's arms were kind and worshipful and protective around her, and hoped that he wouldn't let her break.
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It scared him, the way she was so desperate to have her memories back.
Jaina shifted in her sleep, and Kyp tightened his arms around her. Tonight she had flat-out refused to sleep in her own bed, and now she was crowded against him in his. The bed was narrow and hard and definitely not built for two, but Kyp didn't mind. He simply had accepted her refusal, and now he held her as she slept.
Sleep beckoned to him, but he ignored it. Kyp had always required less sleep than most others; somewhere between being a slave on Kessel in total darkness and being a pilot on call for most of his life, he had lost the need for a full night's sleep.
And he would rather be awake to watch over Jaina, anyways.
She was spreading herself too thin. She had never before seemed this vulnerable, this... fragile, he decided, as though if she was dealt one more blow, she would shatter. Jaina was strong, a partner he could rely on, someone who could help support him when he was tired and who could stand by him when he was strong.
He hadn't thought that she would ever be this vulnerable. It made every protective instinct he had come screaming to the fore.
Kyp lifted a hand and smoothed her hair from her face. She was losing weight, he had noticed earlier. It was as though she was turning all her energy inward, burning through it to try and dredge up some spark of knowledge from her past.
She wanted him to help her remember.
Kyp had always been able to affect minds easily with the Force. Perhaps too easily- would he have completely wiped Qui Xux's memory if it had not been so simple? But mind tricks appeared to be the strongest part of his already powerful Force talent; Jaina had at least been right there. Tekli had suggested, back when Jaina had first awakened with a blank mind, that a fellow Jedi could perhaps help her regain memories.
Jaina thought Kyp could help her.
He was good at erasing memories, at destroying things. He had never tried to create, to give memories back. He didn't know if he could.
But she insisted, and he had somehow bought a week's reprieve.
He wondered what would happen if he couldn't help her. Would she continue to shrink in on herself? Would she still look at her surroundings with her eyes lost and confused, as he caught her doing at times? Would the desperation to remember slowly eat away everything that made her Jaina, so that it became an obsession, a quest, to know the memories that had been stolen from her?
Would she resent him for not being able to help her, suspect that he could have given her memories back to her but for some reason hadn't? Would she think he was trying to keep her dependant on him if he failed?
Kyp forced himself to shut his eyes, and listened to Jaina's steady breathing to calm himself down. In the darkness, her body fit against his perfectly, as it had before the entire mess had happened.
If she resented him because she couldn't remember, would he be able to let her go?
His arms tightened too quickly; the motion startled Jaina from deep sleep.
"Kyp?" she questioned drowsily, eyes half-opened and bleary. Her arm trailed across his chest; she tried to raise herself to look at him.
"Go back to sleep, Jaina," he said softly, shifting and pulling her back down. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"All right," she said, and her eyes drifted shut as she drifted down. Her arm slid back across his chest to tighten into an embrace, and a small smile settled onto her lips. "Love you," she murmured, and was asleep almost before she finished speaking.
The knot in his chest loosened a notch; Kyp tucked her up against him closer and let his head bend over hers as he shut his eyes.
Her words were all that mattered.
*** Author's Note: I have written a short one-poster that is connected vaguely to this fic. Voices, which you can find in my profile, is set about 2 years before this story starts. The plot doesn't really have anything to do with this, but it's set in the same story arc.
