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It turns out I’ve posted a bunch of chunks of the Yavin IV school break visit prequel, but never the whole thing, so I threw it up on AO3, as much of it as I have. I wanted to write more, I may still do so.
Colors You Can See, gen, no warnings, 6kish words of Poe and Iolo being dorks and Kes being actually not an embarrassing dad at all.
Iolo came and leaned against the railing. “Does it do this every night?”
“Most,” Kes said. “If there’s been rain. It’s pretty here.”
“Is that why you stayed here?” Iolo asked.
Kes shrugged. “Lots of reasons to stay,” he said, “no real reasons to leave.” He stared at the sunset. “You can see more colors, right?”
“Yeah,” Iolo said. “I mean. Usually.” He gestured at the sunset. “Most of what’s spectacular there, though, is in colors you can see.”
“You got a pretty good handle on what we can see, huh?” Kes asked.
“I had some glasses,” Iolo said. “When I decided on this career path, one of my relatives got ‘em for me. I wore them around for a while, got used to figuring out what was stuff I’d be able to see that other people couldn’t, just so I’d know how to talk about it.”
“Did it help?” Kes asked.
Iolo laughed. “A little,” he said. “It’s good to have a general idea what’s just going to creep humans out, you know?”
“There’s always an element to that in any way of being different,” Kes said.
“Yeah,” Iolo said. He glanced sidelong at Kes. The light was outlining the edge of his cheekbone and the sweep of his eyelashes in a soft orange. “I actually didn’t know Poe was Iberican until we were on our way here. I mean. I didn’t know what that meant really? But I studied the language a little, I knew a little about it. And I had no idea. He used to help a bunch of us with our Iberican homework and I just assumed it was because he was ahead of us in class.”
“He’s ashamed of it,” Kes said, and his jaw was set. “He pretends he only knows the language from school on purpose.”
“They teased him a lot, his first year,” Iolo said. “It was before I was there, so I didn’t know. But he got made fun of for it pretty badly.”
Kes looked at Iolo then, and it was obvious that Poe had never told him. He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked down. “I never wanted him to go to that fucking Academy,” he said finally.
“No?” Iolo was surprised. “But you’re– I mean, you’re a hero of the Rebellion, right? It only makes sense, you’d want–”
“No,” Kes said. “I don’t want Poe to have to fight the same fucking war I did. I want my child not to fight in wars. I want him to live in peace somewhere. I never wanted him to go to that goddamn school and I didn’t want him to become a starfighter pilot and I don’t want him to be in the military. Not for the Republic, not for anybody.”
It turns out I’ve posted a bunch of chunks of the Yavin IV school break visit prequel, but never the whole thing, so I threw it up on AO3, as much of it as I have. I wanted to write more, I may still do so.
Colors You Can See, gen, no warnings, 6kish words of Poe and Iolo being dorks and Kes being actually not an embarrassing dad at all.
Iolo came and leaned against the railing. “Does it do this every night?”
“Most,” Kes said. “If there’s been rain. It’s pretty here.”
“Is that why you stayed here?” Iolo asked.
Kes shrugged. “Lots of reasons to stay,” he said, “no real reasons to leave.” He stared at the sunset. “You can see more colors, right?”
“Yeah,” Iolo said. “I mean. Usually.” He gestured at the sunset. “Most of what’s spectacular there, though, is in colors you can see.”
“You got a pretty good handle on what we can see, huh?” Kes asked.
“I had some glasses,” Iolo said. “When I decided on this career path, one of my relatives got ‘em for me. I wore them around for a while, got used to figuring out what was stuff I’d be able to see that other people couldn’t, just so I’d know how to talk about it.”
“Did it help?” Kes asked.
Iolo laughed. “A little,” he said. “It’s good to have a general idea what’s just going to creep humans out, you know?”
“There’s always an element to that in any way of being different,” Kes said.
“Yeah,” Iolo said. He glanced sidelong at Kes. The light was outlining the edge of his cheekbone and the sweep of his eyelashes in a soft orange. “I actually didn’t know Poe was Iberican until we were on our way here. I mean. I didn’t know what that meant really? But I studied the language a little, I knew a little about it. And I had no idea. He used to help a bunch of us with our Iberican homework and I just assumed it was because he was ahead of us in class.”
“He’s ashamed of it,” Kes said, and his jaw was set. “He pretends he only knows the language from school on purpose.”
“They teased him a lot, his first year,” Iolo said. “It was before I was there, so I didn’t know. But he got made fun of for it pretty badly.”
Kes looked at Iolo then, and it was obvious that Poe had never told him. He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked down. “I never wanted him to go to that fucking Academy,” he said finally.
“No?” Iolo was surprised. “But you’re– I mean, you’re a hero of the Rebellion, right? It only makes sense, you’d want–”
“No,” Kes said. “I don’t want Poe to have to fight the same fucking war I did. I want my child not to fight in wars. I want him to live in peace somewhere. I never wanted him to go to that goddamn school and I didn’t want him to become a starfighter pilot and I don’t want him to be in the military. Not for the Republic, not for anybody.”
