OOM: Jaina and Jag's Room
It’s late and she should be sleeping, but she can’t. Instead, words and thoughts from the conversation with that Jedi - the girl from the past with a destiny greater than her own - play in her head like a broken holomessage. It’s one of the first times Jaina’s met someone else who knows what it is like to be alone because of a few simple words in the form of a declaration surmounting the rest of your life. And she can’t get it out of her mind.
Those words her uncle had spoken at the knighting ceremony had haunted Jaina for so long. And she had thought she had put them behind her when she married Jag. But Jaina realizes that she was wrong. Those doubts and fears came rushing back the other night, and even as Jaina spoke with conviction to that girl - Kira - sometimes the words sounded false to her own ears.
You are like tempered steel, purposeful and razor-keen. Always you shall be in the front rank, a burning brand to your enemies, a brilliant fire to your friends. Yours is a restless life, and never shall you know peace, though you shall be blessed for the peace that you bring to others. Take comfort in the fact that, though you stand tall and alone, others take shelter in the shadow you cast.
It was horrifying to hear those words back then, as that nineteen - nearly twenty - year old girl just recovering from a fall towards the dark side. It is still horrifying to hear them echo in her head even now. In the dark of the room, the universe around them seems colder and perhaps even more terrifying than she imagines. So she buries herself against her husband, pulling his arm more tightly around her waist, and wishes that just once, meditation was something that came easy to her.
But it isn’t. And words continue to echo in her head again. Jaina knows she had meant some of it - what she told Kira. About how destiny isn’t enough, about how fighting passionately just isn’t enough anymore. It’s a radical change from the stance she had a couple years ago, when Jaina flung herself in to the role of Sword of the Jedi whole-hearted. Now the legacy Jaina wants to leave behind isn’t one of battles and triumphs, but of family and love.
She had made a couple of resolutions the week before, to be a wife and not just a Jedi. Maybe it was time to make a couple more. Words were only words, they had no meaning unless she gave it to them. Perhaps it was time to put away these thoughts and worries. Like she had concluded a few weeks earlier, Jaina can’t be the Sword of the Jedi anymore, either. Can’t bother dwelling on it anymore. At least, she knows, not in the way her uncle had met it. Not when she has peace in the embrace of a husband, and when she has friends and allies to stand with her.
It’s another one of those things on that long list which must be done away with. Destiny was for other people. It wasn’t for her any more. She has to mean every one of those words she told Kira; mean it to herself, too. Having Jag in her life, ever since Borleias, has made all the difference in the galaxy. Despite wars and separations and other conflicts that they confronted, he’s been her constant. He’s helped her reach this point. And Jaina will always be eternally grateful for that.
She picks up the palm draped over her stomach, tracing the creases and curves in the dark. Aside from a few calluses indicative of being a pilot, it’s not an unusual hand. It’s actually rather ordinary. But she loves the way that her own small hand fits so perfectly in this palm if she tries, or the way it holds her when she needs it.
It is late and Jaina’s eyes finally begin to flutter close, and sleepily, the hand is placed downward towards the soft sheets of the bed. Before she lets go, however, a small kiss is placed in the center of the palm, and she smiles - the bare hint of a smile.
“Thank you,” she whispers in the dark, hoping that some part of his subconscious will hear her, “for being in my life, Jagged Fel. I love you more than you will ever know.”
Those words her uncle had spoken at the knighting ceremony had haunted Jaina for so long. And she had thought she had put them behind her when she married Jag. But Jaina realizes that she was wrong. Those doubts and fears came rushing back the other night, and even as Jaina spoke with conviction to that girl - Kira - sometimes the words sounded false to her own ears.
You are like tempered steel, purposeful and razor-keen. Always you shall be in the front rank, a burning brand to your enemies, a brilliant fire to your friends. Yours is a restless life, and never shall you know peace, though you shall be blessed for the peace that you bring to others. Take comfort in the fact that, though you stand tall and alone, others take shelter in the shadow you cast.
It was horrifying to hear those words back then, as that nineteen - nearly twenty - year old girl just recovering from a fall towards the dark side. It is still horrifying to hear them echo in her head even now. In the dark of the room, the universe around them seems colder and perhaps even more terrifying than she imagines. So she buries herself against her husband, pulling his arm more tightly around her waist, and wishes that just once, meditation was something that came easy to her.
But it isn’t. And words continue to echo in her head again. Jaina knows she had meant some of it - what she told Kira. About how destiny isn’t enough, about how fighting passionately just isn’t enough anymore. It’s a radical change from the stance she had a couple years ago, when Jaina flung herself in to the role of Sword of the Jedi whole-hearted. Now the legacy Jaina wants to leave behind isn’t one of battles and triumphs, but of family and love.
She had made a couple of resolutions the week before, to be a wife and not just a Jedi. Maybe it was time to make a couple more. Words were only words, they had no meaning unless she gave it to them. Perhaps it was time to put away these thoughts and worries. Like she had concluded a few weeks earlier, Jaina can’t be the Sword of the Jedi anymore, either. Can’t bother dwelling on it anymore. At least, she knows, not in the way her uncle had met it. Not when she has peace in the embrace of a husband, and when she has friends and allies to stand with her.
It’s another one of those things on that long list which must be done away with. Destiny was for other people. It wasn’t for her any more. She has to mean every one of those words she told Kira; mean it to herself, too. Having Jag in her life, ever since Borleias, has made all the difference in the galaxy. Despite wars and separations and other conflicts that they confronted, he’s been her constant. He’s helped her reach this point. And Jaina will always be eternally grateful for that.
She picks up the palm draped over her stomach, tracing the creases and curves in the dark. Aside from a few calluses indicative of being a pilot, it’s not an unusual hand. It’s actually rather ordinary. But she loves the way that her own small hand fits so perfectly in this palm if she tries, or the way it holds her when she needs it.
It is late and Jaina’s eyes finally begin to flutter close, and sleepily, the hand is placed downward towards the soft sheets of the bed. Before she lets go, however, a small kiss is placed in the center of the palm, and she smiles - the bare hint of a smile.
“Thank you,” she whispers in the dark, hoping that some part of his subconscious will hear her, “for being in my life, Jagged Fel. I love you more than you will ever know.”