II. The Men in the Shadows

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THE MEN IN THE SHADOWS

notre dame (act one, chapter two)rogue one / one bby

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notre dame (act one, chapter two)
rogue one / one bby

( TW: MENTIONS OF PROSTITUTION AND RAPE )

( TW: MENTIONS OF PROSTITUTION AND RAPE )

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YAVIN 4 ATMOSPHERE
Helena Erso

When she was younger, Lena lived on the small world of Lah'mu, in a cozy and large homestead. She slept on a lumpy mattress, stuffed between her two siblings with a woven quilt and a stuffed doll. She remembered loving it, never feeling safer than between her older brother and sister, fitting between their bodies like a perfect mold. She would rest her head on her brother's chest and sprawl her legs over her sister, taking up as much space as possible, while snoring through her open mouth. She had never slept better than in those early years of her life.

The small world had been occupied by the Erso family for a short four years. They lived off the fertile land, growing skycorn and producing vegetables, grains, and fruits year-round. What they lacked in glamour and luxury was made up by the rich soil. Days were spent in the laboring and brutal sun, harvesting the crops so they could be delivered to the underground bunker they crafted into their home and be conjured into the most delicious of meals ever to grace Lena's tastebuds. Her mother, as she remembered, had been a magician in the kitchen. No meal in the thirteen years since she was taken away had ever lived up to her mother's skycorn soup and cheese bread, marinated in orange pomatoes.

Chained down by the labor of his work, both as a scientist and a farmer, Galen Erso was never a present father. From sunrise to sundown, for twelve hours, he slaved away on the plains. Sometimes, he would drag her older brother along to help him. She could remember the nights when Kit came home, sulking on his shoulders with sullen bags under his eyes, defeated from the day. He wouldn't say a word, finding himself a seat just to breathe and catch his breath. He would lie on the cool ground and Lena would wipe his head with a damp cloth, coating his exhausted body with a light quill. She never dared to disrupt his slumber. Her father ran a tight ship out in the fields, allowing for no breaks, not even to the point where Kit was dehydrated and clammy, inches away from collapsing.

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