Chapter Text
Yavin
The bantha in the room had grown too big for Vel not to address. The only reason she'd kept her mouth closed in the first place was because Cinta had advised her to let Mon come to them on her own. That hadn't happened, and now things were becoming absurd.
"Mon," said Vel, making the woman jump and turn her head.
"Vel," she said, with a small, exhausted smile that almost made Vel change her mind about doing this. "Is there something you need? I'm in rather a hurry."
That had been apparent when she'd swept through the front door of Vel and Cinta's small home not ten minutes earlier like she owned the place demanding the use of one of Vel's jackets. Well, she hadn't demanded so much as asked politely, but Mon appeared so rarely harried that it felt on the verge of aggressive.
Vel hesitated, sliding the bottom of her jaw from side to side while she decided how best to phrase what she wanted to ask. Delicately. In a way that wouldn't feel like an accusation.
"When were you planning to tell me that you and Kleya are dating?"
Mon straightened her back from where she'd been leaning over the sink, splashing some cold water on her face in an attempt to wake herself up. Vel braced herself.
She wasn't prepared for Mon to tilt her head quizzically. "Excuse me?" She moved forward and Vel instinctively stepped to the side so she could brush past her and re-enter the main living space. Cinta looked up from the datapad in her hand, not even bothering to pretend she hadn't been listening.
"You heard me," said Vel, following her. "It's been weeks now."
"Kleya and I aren't dating," said Mon. She sounded so bewildered that Vel might have believed it coming from anyone else, but she knew how good a liar Mon was.
"Mon. Please," said Vel. "You don't have to pretend. Would I have preferred you pick a single other person in the Rebellion? Yes. Do I think you can do better? Obviously. Do I think she's an intol-"
"Vel," said Cinta.
Right. She was losing the thread, and Mon was looking at her as though she'd lost her mind.
"The point is," Vel continued, "that I will support your terrible choices."
There was a pause, while Mon maintained a disagreeable amount of eye contact with her. Then she smiled, half confused and half the politicians smile that had always rubbed Vel the wrong way. "That's very kind, Vel, but unnecessary. As I said, Kleya and I aren't dating."
"You had dinner with her last month and took your only bottle of wine," Vel pointed out. "The one you were saving for a special occasion."
"It was a special occasion," said Mon. "Kleya had been promoted."
"She gets promoted three times a week. That's not exactly news worthy," said Vel. "She'll be running the whole damn communications network by the end of the year at this rate if she isn't already."
"The occasional increase in responsibilities is hardly a promotion," said Mon. She was standing so unnaturally still that Vel was sure that if Mon had a timepiece on her she'd be checking it. Heaven forbid she keep Kleya waiting.
"Fine," said Vel, sensing that this wasn't a fight she was going to win. "And when she fell asleep with her head in your lap last week?"
"She had a migraine," said Mon, as though that were a perfectly reasonable explanation for why one might be stroking the hair of a sleeping work colleague during the small hours of the morning. "I've done the same for you."
"When I was a child," said Vel, exasperated.
Mon's brows furrowed, though a polite smile remained affixed her face. Then she said, "I'm very sorry, Vel. Perhaps your right. I should make more of an effort to divide my time evenly."
"That isn't what this is about, Mon!"
Out of the corner of her eye, Vel saw Cinta raise her datapad to cover her traitorous, beautiful smiling mouth. At least somebody was enjoying this conversation.
"Then what is this about?" asked Mon. She sounded so perplexed that Vel wanted to shake her. Mon knew exactly what she was doing.
"This is about you not trusting me enough to tell me when you're dating someone!" The words were out of Vel's mouth before her brain caught up with them, and when it did she stopped. That wasn't what-
But her self-reflection was cut short by the look of horror on Mon's face. Before Vel could clarify what she'd meant to say (and what had she really meant to say?), Mon reached forward and grasped her hands in her own.
"Please don't think that," said Mon. Her eyes were wide and painfully earnest and just a little red around the edges and Vel felt guilt wash through her. "There is not a soul in this galaxy I trust more than I trust you."
"I know," said Vel quickly. And she did know. She had known it would always be the two of them from the moment she'd turned fourteen and had been introduced to her first potential suitor. Tall, handsome, wealthy. Male. She had fled in a state of sickly terror to the only person she thought might love her enough to protect her from what was to come. Of course Mon had shielded her then, as Vel had known deep down she would, even as she feared otherwise. It wasn't until years later that Vel understood how badly that choice had damaged Mon's relationships with their extended family. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
But it was too late. Mon was staring at her fretfully, wasting what little free time she had worrying about her personal failings as a cousin and this was not what Vel had wanted at all. She didn't look at Cinta, knowing she'd see the 'I told you so' written all over her face, even though Cinta was not the kind of woman to ever say such a thing.
"Please just forget it."
Mon squeezed her hands tighter and then released her. Her bottom lip quivered, and Vel couldn't help but wonder whether the strength of Mon's reaction related to how little sleep she was getting. Yavin had been on the precipice of failure for a long time before Mon finally showed up to take the reins, and though she was not the only leader planet-side, more and more seemed to require her personal attention with every passing day. It may have never been officially acknowledged, but it was only a matter of time before it was; Mon Mothma was the leader of the Rebel Alliance. The chain of command stopped with her and everybody knew it. Maybe it was what Mon wanted, but Vel couldn't begin to imagine how heavily the responsibility weighed.
Vel didn't begrudge Mon what little happiness she could find.
Even if it was with Kleya Marki.
Vel stepped forward and pulled her cousin into a fierce hug. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm not upset," Mon lied, and she wrapped her arms awkwardly around Vel like she'd forgotten what a hug was. Over Mon's shoulder, Vel caught Cinta's eye. To anyone else it might look like she was unmoved by what was happening around her, but Vel recognised the slight narrowing of her dark eyes like she was contemplating something unpalatable.
Mon released her hold of Vel and pulled away. Vel resolved to check in with her cousin more often.
Rather than prolong an uncomfortable conversation, Vel cleared she throat and asked, "So where are you going?"
"Skygazer Hill. Kleya found some literature on the local myths dating all the way back to the Massassi and we believe we've located the best spot to see the constellations referred to in the stories."
"She found some obscure, ancient literature specifically relevant to your interests just lying around, did she?" said Vel.
"You should eat before you go," said Cinta, because as chief medical personnel, Cinta had become well aquatinted with Mon's inability to feed herself and the subsequent confusion when the dizzy spells hit.
"Kleya is bringing food," said Mon, and Cinta nodded, satisfied.
"Stargazing and a picnic," said Vel. "That sounds very platonic."
Mon sighed, and either she had moved past whatever had just happened between them or she'd slipped back into Senator mode because she said imperiously, "Be aware that if I become the next hot topic on the rumour mill, I'll know where it came from and there will be consequences."
"Fine," said Vel with a roll of her eyes. Unbeknownst to Mon, there had been rumblings about how much time she had been spending with Luthen Rael's protege for a while already. People had been wary of Kleya from the moment she'd stepped foot on Yavin and Mon was…Senator Mothma. Of course people were speculating. If it pleased Mon to pretend she didn't already know that, Vel would let her.
Then Mon plastered on a smile and wished them both a good evening. Vel readjusted the light jacket she'd borrowed around her shoulders and patted Mon on the arm. It didn't suit her at all.
"I'll see you in the morning, Mon. And watch your footing in the dark."
"I will," Mon promised. And then with a few hurried little footsteps she was gone. Late to meet Kleya, Vel thought with a spark of vindictive pleasure. Let Kleya wait.
"She has no idea," said Cinta after a moment, making Vel drag her eyes back from the door.
"No," Vel agreed.
"I thought your cousin was supposed to be the smart one."
The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. What was left of Saw's militia had launched a haphazard strike on a small reeducation centre mid-construction on a moon in the Outer Rim and the Rebel Alliance had scrambled to aid them in their escape however they could. There hadn't been many of them, but Gold Squadron had managed to convince more than half of them to abandon their suicide mission in favour of joining the Rebellion.
They'd just arrived on Yavin and after they had been inducted and interrogated, it would be up to Vel to assess their skills. She wasn't looking forward to it - she'd caught a glimpse of them earlier and they were a sorry, feral looking lot.
It was early, too early, when Vel entered the large tent that acted as the mess hall. Her mind was sluggish, but after Cinta had accidentally woken her at the crack of dawn tripping over a sock Vel had left on the floor, there had seemed little point going back to sleep.
She yawned, glancing around the tent. Her eyes landed on a small figure hunched over a datapad.
Ah. Good.
Feeling more awake all of a sudden, Vel stomped over to where Kleya sat and pulled out the chair at the opposite side of the narrow table. She straddled it and stared until Kleya looked up. She must have known who had sat down because the scowl on her face was there before they even made eye contact.
"Vel," said Kleya, with a sharp, biting smile and her voice dripping sarcasm. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure."
Vel leaned back and took her in. Without the layers of stark makeup she had favoured back on Coruscant, Kleya's face looked different. Rounder, somehow. Softer. And in the humidity of the planet, her hair had started to curl and frizz at the edges. Her eyes were still marked with dark lines, giving her a perpetually sullen expression. Despite all that, there was still an edge of danger that lingered around her like a bad smell.
Truly, Vel could not fathom what Mon saw in her.
"You need to tell my cousin what you're doing and you need to do it soon."
Kleya blinked and then slowly laid down the datapad next to a small bowl of untouched purple berries. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't start with me, Kleya. I'm in no mood for it."
"Then leave," said Kleya. "I'm busy."
Vel slammed her hand down on the table, causing a few nearby bleary-eyed rebels to jump and glare at her. They quickly backed down when Vel glared back.
"She isn't one of your games."
"Who isn't one of my games?" said Kleya absently. She had been unmoved by the violence Vel had enacted upon the table.
Vel was going to throttle her.
"Mon."
That caught her attention, as Vel knew it would. "What about Senator Mothma?"
Vel ran her tongue across her teeth and tilted her head backwards so she was looking down her nose. "Don't give me that shit. We both know you haven't called her that in months." Kleya pursed her lips. "She spends every second, that she isn't sleeping or working, with you, and she has no idea why."
"Maybe she welcomes the company of someone with more than two brain cells to rub together," said Kleya. "I can see why you might be confused by that."
Vel felt a hot rush of anger and it would have been all too easy to rise to the bait, but this wasn't about her. She swallowed back every harsh word and told herself that it would be good practice for later, when Saw's leftovers were bound to test her patience. Though she didn't think Saw's people would be quite so smug about it.
She clasped her hands together on the table in front of her and sat back.
"I know you don't like me. I know you think I'm beneath you and that I don't deserve to be here." Kleya met her eyes and maybe she was frowning. Vel didn't care. "But this is about Mon and the fact that she has no idea you want more from her than friendship." Kleya's eyes widened. "Tell her you're dating. She won't believe it from anybody but you."
"Mon and I aren't dating."
A long pause as Vel waited for a punchline that never came. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Literally never." Vel felt her brow furrow so aggressively that it made her feel briefly dizzy. "There are two of them."
"If you're seeing double, I suggest you visit the infirmary," said Kleya quickly. Too quickly. "Now if you don't mind…"
"I do mind!" said Vel. She took a breath. "What exactly do you think you and Mon have been doing for the last few months?"
It was the closest Vel had ever come to seeing Kleya speechless. She wished she could enjoy it more, but, whether she knew it or not, Mon's heart was on the line here. But then, Vel supposed she had been wrong before. Maybe this really was just two lonely people in need of any form of human connection. She doubted it though.
"We discuss strategy and Rebel movements. We talk about expanding our intelligence network and potential locations for future bases. Nothing so tawdry as dating."
"Of course," Vel drawled. "I take all of my co-workers for a moonlit stroll and a picnic to discuss Rebel activity when the several meeting rooms in the temple just won't do." Maybe Vel had imagined it, but she was fairly certain Kleya's eye had just twitched.
It was hard to know where to take this conversation next; Vel had been prepared to give Kleya the shovel talk and precious little else.
Then, "What do you want from me, Vel? For me to back off?" Spoken softly. Blandly. Coldly. In a way that reminded Vel of their interactions long before Yavin. Vel hadn't quite realised quite how much had changed between them until she heard it.
The volume in the tent suddenly increased as a small group of pilots entered, jostling against each other and laughing loudly. Kleya tensed, coiled and ready to spring to her feet. There was a reason she kept odd hours, Vel knew; she still felt vulnerable in a crowd she didn't trust. A part of Vel found that sad, but a bigger part of her knew that it was Kleya's choice to set herself apart from the rest. There had been only one person she'd bothered to ingratiate herself with. A person that Vel had heard some speculate to be awfully convenient.
"Did you hear me say that?" said Vel. "No. What I wanted was to make sure this isn't some elaborate power play for you." She shrugged her shoulders gracelessly. "I see now that it isn't."
Kleya linked her fingers together on the table and then looked at them thoughtfully. When she didn't say anything Vel sighed and rose to her feet. She'd been lucky to get this far without Kleya pulling some kind of weapon, she supposed.
"See you around, Marki."
Kleya's head shot up, her gaze dark and penetrating.
"I do not think that you don't deserve to be here." Vel's heart just about stopped. "I never have."
Oh. Vel cleared her throat and punched Kleya lightly in the arm, earning herself a grimace. "Shut up," she said. "Eat your breakfast." Kleya looked momentarily puzzled and then her face smoothed over and…oh. The bowl of berries weren't for Kleya, were they?
Vel couldn't help but laugh as she walked away.
After a full day of allowing Vel's foolish assumptions to distract her from her work, Kleya dismissed the notion entirely. It was true that she and Mon spent more time with each other than was strictly necessary, but often it was the only way either of them could be assured an intelligent conversation. Despite Mon's best effort, the Rebel Alliance remained chaotic and noisy; it was good for both of them to have a point of contact where sense could reassert itself. A moment of calm to take a breath in the eye of the storm.
It shouldn't have surprised her that Vel had allowed her mind to be captured by idle fancies. She lacked the kind of responsibilities that left no room for anything more. The kind of commitment that burned in every crevice of your brain until you were consumed by the cause and nothing else. In the end, however, she tried not to judge Vel too harshly for it. She had been trying to protect her cousin, and Kleya understood that desire because it was one they both shared. The Rebellion would thrive with or without Mon Mothma, but they were much better off with her.
Kleya did not see the value of complicating things beyond that.