Chronicles of the Desolate

Watching☀️

Taetumn has a lot of self restraint. It comes naturally to her after having spent years learning how to manage her emotions. After years of carrying a power and using it for the good of the galaxy.

She hasn't been a love struck Youngling for years. She has learned how to handle her attraction to others, to appreciate the emotion but to ultimately let it pass. Even if the Jedi Order had allowed relationships, there wouldn't be any person in the galaxy that could keep up with the irregular and, frankly, frantic life of a Jedi. It required someone to be okay with picking up and moving on, of dangerous missions and discipline.

Then there had been the clones. Who, in their own words, were made for the Jedi.
They had spent all their lives training for being by their side, for picking up and moving on, for danger and discipline.

Then there had been Cody.

Her Master's fearless Commander—her Commander, her caring Commander.
Who had spend his entire life being told him and his brothers mattered less, but who still cared deeply and fiercely. A man who understood sacrifice.

A man that could follow the life of a Jedi.

And Taetumn hadn't been a love struck Youngling for years, but she, now a Padawan, came dangerously close then.
She had to remind herself, had too much self restraint to truly give in to the turmoil of feelings inside her,

But Taetumn could watch.

Because watching her Commander wasn't breaking control. It wasn't letting go, it wasn't attachment. It was just... watching.

Tracking her Commander's movement came naturally to Taetumn. The man demanded attention, after all. He demanded respect.

It was easy for Taetumn's eyes to wander during war meetings. To find deep brown eyes already staring back at her.

It was also easy for Taetumn to find her Commander fighting on the battle field. An action that should not at all be graceful, and it wasn't not really, but Cody moved in a way that drew Taetumn's eyes to him anyway.

Taetumn had studied her Commander's face
relentlessly.
Had studied him in the mess hall, during night watches, her Commander's face scrunched up in pain on the battlefield, the flush to his face when he had been drinking, the look of deep concentration during flimsiwork, the way he slept restlessly in the medbay, the way he would fall asleep after long nights of flimsiwork.

While they were at war there was no way that Taetumn could ever truly let go of her control. There was a galaxy that needed saving, there was the matter of their ranks separating them.

But Taetumn could watch.

It was one of the few luxuries she could afford and indulge in.

It barely covered the deep ache in her chest.