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Maybe in another life, they could have been something else. Rán thinks about it at times, when she sees couples or trios or one of the dozen other permutations of relationships that make up the Rebellion as they’re reunited after missions. They always look so happy, and they radiate that relief and joy into the Force.
In another life, if Aure was inclined that way and if she didn’t still hold to some of the tenets of the fallen Order… if Rán were to choose anyone, she would choose him.
They love one another, that isn’t in question. In some cultures, they are married. In Rebellion records, they are listed as each other’s ’s next of kin should the worst happen, they share a bunk when they happen to be on-base at the same time, and they can usually be found sitting together, fingers laced while they talk about everything and anything.
She pretends she hasn’t noticed her own missions changing - to ones less likely to get her killed, where she can come home to their tiny quarters, exhausted and smelling of ozone from her blaster, but alive .
After one of these missions, she slips into the room and toes off her boots before slipping into the bunk with Aure. He rolls over and pulls her close, kissing her cheek lightly. “Go back to sleep,” she whispers, closing her eyes as he chuckles and holds her a little closer. Her final thought as she dozes off is that maybe they don’t need to be anything else. She has everything she needs right here.