Oh my Gods, I can't get over how beautiful this is, truly. I am a sobbing, blubbering mess, but I'm glad for it.
I love how you explored Laura's growth throughout the years, how her ideas around love, family, and home changed and how they were affected by the people around her. I really loved her scene with Kara, I adore fics that explore that paternal relationship and it's done so wonderfully here, it doesn't feel forced or unnatural for either character.
This is beautiful! I love how this story spans the series, capturing the changes that Laura undergoes as she is tested again and again. I have so many favorite parts, but this passage in particular jumped out at me:
Later comes and Laura Roslin goes to work, because New Caprica, because the Cylons, because Maia and Isis and the haunted look in Kara Thrace’s eyes. Because she can, because she will and because Gaius Balter and the men like him will not hurt this Fleet ever again.
YES. Laura absolutely bleeds for the fleet, particularly post-NC. I love this about her.
This is amazing -- each little section profound in what it says about each beautiful moment. I loved the moments with Kara, particularly this one:
The sound of waves echo across the lonely beach.
“I’d want my head too.”
Kara turns then, leaving the President to her guilt, and to her hopelessness. Her misery, it seems, neither needs nor wants for company.
But what really got me was that first moment. The couple at first seems very random and then it leads to this bit of gorgeousness:
Later, Laura will look back on that morning, her last true morning, with a proper sunrise and everything, and she will wonder if the young couple thought of each other after the bombs fell. If they lived through the first of the attacks. If they found the time for I’m sorry or I love you. If they were able, for one, precious moment, to rescue one another from fear and from sorrow in their final hours. She hopes so.
This is as beautiful for what it made me feel as for the words. Amazing.
I like this take on home and displacement; comfort and discomfort with people and places - a much, much deeper exploration of themes that I only kind of brushed past. You've taken the emotional, rather than the physical (great way to remix!), and brought in people themselves, which takes it outside of Laura in a really interesting way (even though we still see her progressions and regressions). Especially with Kara - there are things that Kara brings out in Laura that are fascinating, and necessary. I love the bit about space-cold vs. planet-cold: that's one of those great details that one doesn't always consider until someone points it out, and then you just think, oh right. :)
What a journey! I'm in tears, but I'm grateful for having this complete arc of Laura and her most personal perceptions of her life. Even the detail of regretting the spilled coffee was perfect. And the sad, beautiful trajectory to a loving peaceful end...Laura feels very completed here. Lovely.
Comments 7
I love how you explored Laura's growth throughout the years, how her ideas around love, family, and home changed and how they were affected by the people around her. I really loved her scene with Kara, I adore fics that explore that paternal relationship and it's done so wonderfully here, it doesn't feel forced or unnatural for either character.
Stunning work.
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Later comes and Laura Roslin goes to work, because New Caprica, because the Cylons, because Maia and Isis and the haunted look in Kara Thrace’s eyes. Because she can, because she will and because Gaius Balter and the men like him will not hurt this Fleet ever again.
YES. Laura absolutely bleeds for the fleet, particularly post-NC. I love this about her.
Bravo! :D
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The sound of waves echo across the lonely beach.
“I’d want my head too.”
Kara turns then, leaving the President to her guilt, and to her hopelessness. Her misery, it seems, neither needs nor wants for company.
But what really got me was that first moment. The couple at first seems very random and then it leads to this bit of gorgeousness:
Later, Laura will look back on that morning, her last true morning, with a proper sunrise and everything, and she will wonder if the young couple thought of each other after the bombs fell. If they lived through the first of the attacks. If they found the time for I’m sorry or I love you. If they were able, for one, precious moment, to rescue one another from fear and from sorrow in their final hours. She hopes so.
This is as beautiful for what it made me feel as for the words. Amazing.
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