Time passes and still she cannot forget, cannot forgive.
Her father.
He fucked her father.
"What did you do with him?", she asks for the umpteenth time, and for the umpteenth time he dodges. She wouldn't have thought him so coy.
"You know", he replies, his face slightly turned toward the Library as if he could read the titles from where he is sitting. She stands, not willing to be too domestic, in front of him or to herself.
"I will never forgive you", she warns.
"I know". There is no doubt in Krennic's mind that he went too far, and worse, that he was stupid enough to have it discovered. He deserves it for being so weak. Maybe these… entanglements were excusable when he was single, a man in the military… But not now. Certainly not with his father-in-law.
"What did you do exactly", she pries, hurting herself more than him. It isn't posed as a question because she doesn't expect him to refuse to answer even though he keeps doing so. "With him". She cannot say dad, certainly will not say Galen. They both know who he is, it's not like there is another man in between them, or if there is, he is nothing, just a half hearted release. "Don't they fucking teach you self control at your imperial academy or wherever you studied?". You both. He isn't happy to be reminded of weakness.
"If you won't tell me…", she circles around him, "Well it makes sense, you look like a girl, of course you would be delicate like one". Jyn sometimes think this is the worst for him, jabs at his masculinity. She cannot exactly deny his stamina and male looks yet he cannot deny something almost too gentlemanly in his countenance. Jyn wears the skirt, but at the moment she literally feels more than him. Her dress crinkles around her feet. They look at each other in the eye at last. "If you won't tell me you'll show me". She circles one time again and stops in front of him. He seems small from the vantage. She kneels in front of him and he inhales just a bit too noisily to ignore. She smirks and considers that she could have moved more gracefully but maybe he doesn't need someone too feminine. It doesn't make her feel good and she decides to take it out on her lord husband.
"I always guess… So this is why you chose me, right?". He says nothing but his eyes follow her. "You needed a wife that would understand, maybe even do to you what you need… Your dumb little Imperials would never oh my". He is still silent. There is force in silence. The silent, heroic man and the silly chatty woman. She puts her hand on his knee and trails upward, pinching when he doesn't react. He seems insensitive to pain, as he would be after his training. "Not that girlish, Sir", she teases. Then she notices the bulge, half concealed under his pristine white tunic. "Not so girlish at all". She can't help the praise and they both meet eyes again, this time, finding heat. "You do not need him so why?". No answer again but she can imagine he rationalizes it. "What if I was your typical little imperial wife refusing to even consider… You would cheat on me again and again?". Her hatred is aroused just at the thought.
"No", he replies for once. But she knows better, or she tells herself she does.
"No?", she is still caressing his thigh just where it must hurt. He hisses and his cock twitches under the carefully pressed material. He would like it all, of course. Pain, both ways. His eyes are an ice blue inferno darting from her hand to her face. He isn't thinking of anyone else. But what worries her is that she is enjoying this. "No? You would just cum once a month if she's feeling like bringing you an heir?". There's hatred in her voice, venom, for this woman he could have married. He flinches at the word cum, interestingly.
She not too gently grabs him through the pants and he closes his eyes. Where is he now, she doesn't know. She opens the fly, slow, but he hides any impatience he may experience. Her knees hurt already but the resistance can take it, as well as the empire. Her hand finally snakes in, taking hold of him.
"Already?", she taunts. "I thought it was painful". Let him know she knows.
He opens his eyes as if the war had been declared in such words. He doesn't completely go all out because he doesn't want her to remove her hand, kneading and stimulating him and he slightly parts his thighs, as if accidental.
"Shameful as it may be, I notice you have the exact same coloring…", he attacks. They both know. Her hand stops an instant then picks up and he groans, his gaze cold again though.
"I thought my hair was too long", she counters as if she wasn't horrified. He grabs it as if to say show me. Galen had been the fire to his ice, though ice could burn Lyra… He felt pleasure intensely at those memories, with an edge of hatred. He wouldn't be Krennic if he didn't. She tenses, squriming. Her thighs pressed.
"Suck me my lady", he orders, sugary sweet, with a bitter undertone. It is her turn to look up with shock as if the words couldn't have been used used by such a man, or maybe only with other men, during inappropriate bragging or…
"Is it what he did, then…?". She hates them both. "He actually initiatied? You didn't force it?". For an instant, short but too long, she wishes him dead instead.
"Wife", he breathes, a warning. You are mine.
"I said it was a bad idea, I told you it would hurt you…"
And she bends toward him. Hurt or not, she owns her idea up. He doesn't direct her, still holds at her hair but doesn't pull. He enjoys seeing her cooperate to the fullest extent maybe more than forcing, which again, is telling for an imperial. He looks at her, through her, far far away.
"You are mine Director", she whispers against his skin. He twitches. A few times she licks and almost takes him but always recoils. "My director… my…". Husband?
Yeah sure. They are married, but there is more to that, something between them… Lady Krennic is her name now, Jyn thinks, and she goes in deeper.
"And that's enough", he says roughly, shoving her almost. She is interrogative then she understands.
"It didn't go further than that?". No deeper thrust? No…?
He soflty shakes his head, a gold strand falling into his eye. He pushes it back with no more care than he pushed her.
"You didn't finish?", she asks, unbelieving but the way he blushes deep red is telling. He goes to tuck himself in, ashamed but her hand is quicker and her thumb draws tiny circles on his hole until he leaks. Krennic didn't actually cum, and from the way it seems, he was the one saying stop. She shouldn't be thankful for that.
She takes him in finally, suckling and stimulating. He won't need much from what she can hear. He can't even help it, his hips seach for completion and she thinks her father would do it in a better way. She can't even suck him correctly, she is nothing like he wants except a young womb for many sons, a young girl to show off and claim he defeated rebellion single handedly… so much that a leader gave him his precious daughter, his own honor… He seems to catch on her thoughts.
"Alright Jyn", he soothes, and she darts hardened eyes on him as if to swallow back tears.
She rubs and massages his thighs, a distraction at first but when he tenses and comes it seems to help him along. He bites his lip so hard it is white where his teeth have been, and crimson everywhere else.
He doesn't ask where he should come because both know where they want it. She swallows him, milking him for all he has, licking when it becomes too sensitive but not before she hurts him a little bit, her eyes shining in unshed tears.
"Fuck Jyn" he finally says when he can speak. He went back to her at least.
That will never be enough though. She cannot compete. The novelty will wear off, has already maybe.
"Is this the only reason why you do that?", he asks. He seems to uncannily understand. Yet though she nods, frowning, she knows that started much before she knew of...
"We should go our separate ways…", she confesses defeated as she is still licking her lips. You don't suggest divorce to someone whose taste you chase every time. Normally the bedroom should be as dysfunctional as the living room - maybe it is. Awkwardly she has let go of him and she tries to shield her mouth with her hand so he won't see… He grabs her hand and kisses it where his semen has been wiped. It could be romantic if not for this. She feels his tongue and shivers. She cannot kill him, she will not love him… But she cannot, cannot kill him. My director… "Krennic", she calls coldly so as not to use the previous moniker. "We only hurt each other". That's the truth, not that it prevents them from finding common points at night despite the burning hatred at day, on her side at least. On his it is more disdain.
He looks serious for once, almost as he does when discussing with his engineers, looking for a mistake, a faille in the reasoning, in the system. He sees only openness on her face and his is even more guarded now. But his eyes tell the truth too.
"I don't think and i dont mind". The beginning is a lie but it devolves into frankness also. She doesn't ask what good she brings to him, he would say something racy just to shock her, or bring up the elusive heir. Two things he could have without someone else, yet he chose her and still does.
"You hurt them enough, don't you think it is time to end this show?". He cannot deny it is why he went for her, and why he consumated a marriage he wasn't sure he ever wanted. The think he kept in mind emptying himself into her, finding her blood on his cock, maybe the only thought he could have to get hard. She might have provoked him into more as she was but a prisoner, though the first kiss had also been his doing. She can hardly remember if she knelt for him thinking to really… Or to get back at him.
"You would never have married, if not for this".
Maybe as an old man, for an heir… But never like this, with a rebel, Galen's daughter for Force's sake! She expects an umpteenth lecture on Krennics' customs and cultures, no divorce, life sentence, forever.
"I never thought I would, no". So he goes for the truth, for the kill. "Never thought I could", he almost whispers. Oh. Confessions of a quite private order. Krennic unable. She glares still but some of the fire is deadened off… She fears he's appeasing her. But he wouldn't claim to be unable to get it up. "But don't you see it's working, Jyn? I was the first surprised but it's working!". He could have been speaking of some machine but this time he's talking of more than their marital bed. She wonders if he really considers this a success. Fucking your wife's father. Granted he had sworn there would be no mistress, and she could believe there actually had never been a mistress - could he consider his affairs with a man so different that a wife wouldn't feel jeopardized? Granted he actually didn't come… She doesn't want to build on this, there is nothing for her in this marriage, it didnt even save her father from working for them. Her husband can play it like he didn't mind the genocide, her father is of another style. It would destroy him. Krennic himself wasn't as celebratory as he wanted to appear, there had been something lifeless in his eyes. And that thing they were working on… Yet as her mind is screaming from the foreboding - it won't end well, maybe Krennic himself will be in over his head in the end but he will pretend it is all good and he doesn't care - she lays her head on his thigh and his hand grasping at the hair turns into a caress. This isn't hatred, or lust, or domination, this is much more dangerous, but neither stop.