Private A Quiet Pull

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra's breath vanished the moment her back struck the bulkhead. Not from the impact—he cushioned that effortlessly—but from him. The heat of his body against hers. The raw, electrifying hunger in the way he kissed her back. The way her name left his throat was like something pulled from the center of him.

Her legs tightened instinctively around his waist before she even realized she'd moved, her hands sliding up the hard planes of his shoulders, fingertips catching on the faint ridges of old scars. He was all heat and strength and impossible restraint, and yet he held her like she was something delicate—something he intended to protect even while devouring her breath.

He kissed like he fought: precise, consuming, absolute.

Her head tipped back against the bulkhead when he lifted her, a soft sound escaping her—half gasp, half something she'd never let another soul hear. Not until him.

"Syn—"

His name broke out of her in a trembling exhale when his claws pressed through the fabric at her lower back, not hurting, just grounding—claiming. His mouth moved against hers again, and the Force hummed through her nerves like sparks skittering across metal, sharp and bright and dizzying. She had never felt anything like it. Never imagined she could.

Her fingers curled in the sash at his shoulder, pulling him closer without thinking, entirely undone by the sheer intensity of how he touched her—how he held her like she was something he'd been waiting a lifetime to taste again.

Her voice was a whisper against his mouth, breathless, shaken, impossibly soft: "I…don't think I can breathe when you kiss me like that."

Her lips brushed his again—a small, hungry drag of her own choosing this time—her pulse hammering so hard she felt it everywhere.

"Maker help me…"

A shiver ran through her. Not fear. Something far more dangerous.

"…don't stop."

She kissed him again—deeper, answering his hunger with her own—hands sliding from his shoulders up into his hair, pulling him down into her as she had finally stopped running from everything she wanted.

Syn

 

[Syn]

Lyra Ventor

He slowly pulled his head back, withdrawing from the intensity of the moment as he looked at her for a long, silent moment. The glow of force light caught the strands of hair in front of her eyes and the demand given seemed too powerful and unexpected for the woman but that wasn't a surprise. The sound that finally came was not forced, but soft and deep, filled with a more promised future than the simple action hinted at. "As you wish," he spoke, his voice laced with finality. He moved then, fluidly and without hesitation, finding his grip on her to hold her to him as he moved with the tension dissolving into quiet anticipation.

Eighteen Hours Later. The sounds of the starship's life support had filtered and the hyperdrive ticked through day and night cycles and the journey had finally deposited them in a bed. The Jedi Master was laying there, not in exhaustion from a fight, but in the deep, contented breathing that only safety and intimacy could bring. His breathing had evened out, becoming slow and steady against the soft form entwined. He remained there for a long moment, the familiar rhythm of the heartbeat a comfort he found, slowly drawing in the residual warmth and presence of Lyra beside him. He allowed the serene calm to wash throughout his body before finally stirring. He spoke without moving. "Round twenty-seven,"

Twenty hours had passed since that first, contented pause, adding another full cycle of stolen time. The jedi master was already awake now, his neatly trimmed hair catching the faint light filtering through the room where it was slick with sweat. Though the weight of the galaxy and their duties was pressing heavily on the conclusion of their trip, he moved with a lingering, unhurried grace. The Jedi Master finally shifted, having finished dressing, the lines of his armored pants sharp and severe once more a stark contrast to the easy intimacy that had just been shared. He paused at the small cabin's threshold, looking back at the woman who had made him have to release his limiters for almost two full days.

He turned back though and spoke getting some of the water for both of them as he offered it with a nod of his head. "You are beautiful."

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra blinked awake slowly, the dim cabin lights catching in the tousled strands of hair that had fallen across her face sometime during the last…
Maker, how long had it actually been?

Long enough that her body still felt warm and loose in ways she didn't know were possible. Long enough that she could still feel the ghost of where his hands had been—sure, reverent, devastating. Long enough that the thought of stopping made something inside her twist painfully.

She stretched slightly beneath the sheets, a slow, feline motion betraying the deep ache of muscles thoroughly, thoroughly used. When his voice rumbled from the far side of the cabin—Round twenty-seven—her lips curved without permission.

He was impossible. And she was ruined.

Her gaze lifted as he returned, dressed again in sharp lines and disciplined presence, the contrast almost dizzying after everything they'd shared. He spoke as he offered her water—You are beautiful—and for once, she didn't deflect, didn't tease, didn't look away like she didn't know how to accept it.

Because after nearly two days locked in hyperspace with him, after learning the feel of his breath, the weight of his body, the sound he made when she kissed him just right…

She believed him. She sat up slowly, sheet slipping to her waist, her cheeks warming, but her eyes steady as they met his. "You're not wrong," she murmured softly—not cocky, not joking, but quietly acknowledging the truth he'd already seen.

She took the water from his hand, letting her fingers linger against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Her voice gentled.

"And you…" A small breath. The kind that carried too many feelings she wasn't ready to name yet. "…you're more than I ever thought someone like me would get to have."

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the viewport, the faint shimmer of hyperspace still stretching beyond it like an infinite corridor. Not at the temple yet. Not today. Not yet losing him to whatever waited there.

Her throat tightened at the thought—uninvited, unwelcome, but real. She pushed it down and instead shifted toward him, one hand reaching out to rest lightly at his waist, grounding herself in the warmth and solidity of him.

"We're not there yet," she said quietly, almost as if she were reassuring herself more than him. "So I'm not thinking about the temple. Not today."

Her thumb brushed gently over the line of his hip.

"Today…I just want you."She leaned forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his sternum—not hungry like before, not urgent, but intimate in a way that carried its own kind of weight.

"Come back to bed."

Syn

 

[Syn]

Lyra Ventor

He looked at her and for a brief moment he might have blinked if he had been able to. "You are insatiable." The jedi master said it with a grin forming on his face though as he moved forward with a look though as moving in with the chance. THey were hydrated and now back to something he could always remember. He moved back over by her for the moment and stretched just enough. Thirty six hours later, the moment was there for a small breath. Taking the longer moment when Lyra was something he hadn't been expecting... he was suddenly glad he hadn't offered to teach her more stamina techniques that could be used. He breathed in and then outwards though before returning to the moment.

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra let out a soft, breathless laugh at his words, the sound muffled where her forehead rested briefly against his chest. The heat of him, the steadiness, the sheer presence was still enough to make her head spin if she let herself think too hard about it.

"Insatiable?" she echoed quietly, tilting her head just enough to look up at him, one brow lifting with faint, unapologetic amusement. "That's a strong word for someone who keeps coming back."

She shifted closer without hurry, fingers tracing an idle line along his side—not claiming, not demanding, just there, grounding herself in the reality of him. The world felt strangely small in moments like this, reduced to breath and warmth and the low hum of the ship carrying them forward.

"Besides," she added, voice softer now, steadier, "after everything we crawled out of… I think I'm allowed to want something that feels real." She leaned in just enough to steal the space back from him, lips hovering close, not quite touching—a choice, not hesitation. "And right now," she murmured, "that's you."

No rush. No pressure. Just a quiet, deliberate decision to stay in the moment a little longer—knowing full well it wouldn't last forever, and choosing it anyway.

Syn

 

[Syn]

Lyra Ventor

He looked for a moment but spoke. "Good thing I hydrated." He said it with a small chuckle but yes he did keep coming back which was important... there was a process to it all, a calling... a... he inhaled the scent of her and all thoughts were lost for the next dozen hours until he could feel in the distance the temple. On the edge of his senses as a force for now compared to other times. Normally it just glowed like a beacon but this close to Ahch-To and many of the other worlds important to the jedi it gave them a lot of things to feel in the force. The world with all of its green islands and oceans was another story entirely.

The Silver Jedi had done a lot to restore the temples, more so with the orbital stations and shielding. The Alema was alerted to theirr arrival aand Lyra could be guided into the ports that had been made. The Temple of Omean visible on the green island with its black stone. Few jedi moving around in it but the arisen were present. The caretakers of the temple and the Alema was there docked and ready. The vertical vessel towering over most things there are he could feel the internal spirit of the ship. The jedi master rolled with a nod of his head though as he looked at the woman with a nod though. "I do not know if you wish to depart the ship."

He said it but looked at her. "I told you the danger and once exiting you would be able to feel it but I would not stop you." He said it while he stood there and looked out.

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra's hands eased the Starling down into the assigned approach lane with practiced calm, but her attention wasn't entirely on the instruments anymore. It hadn't been for a while. The world below—green islands scattered like jewels across an endless ocean—was beautiful in a way that felt almost unreal, like something out of a story she'd never meant to step into.

She felt it before she really understood it.

Not pain. Not fear.

Pressure.

A quiet, pervasive weight at the back of her thoughts, like standing too close to a storm without being caught in the rain. Her jaw tightened just a fraction as she compensated automatically, breath steady, fingers firm on the controls. The Starling responded instantly, loyal as ever, settling smoothly into the port as if to remind her she wasn't unmoored. She still had something solid beneath her.

When Syn spoke, she didn't answer right away.

The Alema loomed nearby, massive and unmistakably alive in a way only ships like that ever were. The Temple of Omean rose from its island of black stone and green growth, quiet and watchful. Not hostile. Just…aware.

"I can feel it," she admitted finally, voice low, honest. "Not like you do. But enough."

She shut down the engines, the cockpit falling into a softer hum, and leaned back in her seat. For a moment, she stared straight ahead, then turned her head to look at him—not searching, not accusing. Just grounding herself in something familiar.

"You warned me," she said. "And I appreciate that more than you probably realize."

Her fingers drummed once against the armrest before stilling.

"I don't think I should step off the ship today," she continued, steady but not cold. "Not because I'm afraid…because I know my limits."

A small, wry smile touched her mouth.

"And because if I start pushing at something like this before I'm ready, I'll resent it. You. Myself. All of it."

She glanced back toward the viewport, then returned her gaze to him.

"That doesn't mean this is goodbye," she added quietly. "Just…not today."

The Starling sat between worlds—between paths—engines cooling, pilot steady.

"I'll stay with the ship," Lyra finished. "You go do what you need to do."

And beneath it all, unspoken but true:

She wasn't running. She was choosing when to step forward.

Syn

 

[Syn]

Lyra Ventor

He looked at her as she spoke and didn't make a face or sigh... more understanding and respect. Her decision wasn't a bad one and it wasn't a rushed one that she might come to regret as impulsive... mostly. "I have time Lyra and you have the means to contact me should you need it." He stepped there for a moment holding one hand up but he had the silver disc of a communicator. "This connects to the jedi shadow array, it is a private communication network for jedi vessels. If you need me or help use it. There is an emergency alter able to be activated that the Alema can pick up on... she might also talk with you." He said it but looked at her with a nod of his head to her. "I do hope to see you again though whether soon or months or years from now. It will be something of providence." He waited a little longer and embraced her before moving out of the vessel and towards the temple. Making sure the pressure was lessened for a moment as mentally he was extending his barrier and shielding around her.

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra stood when he did, not out of obligation, but because something in her refused to let the moment pass while she was still sitting down. The Starling's lights softened behind her, casting a warm glow across the narrow space as Syn pressed the small silver disc into her palm. It was cool, smooth, heavier than she expected—not in weight, but in meaning.

She curled her fingers around it slowly.

"I'll use it if I need to," she said, her voice a touch quieter but no less firm. "I'm not stupid enough to pretend I can outrun the whole galaxy on my own."

Her thumb brushed the edge of the device. It felt like a tether she hadn't asked for but wasn't willing to give back.

When he stepped in for the embrace, she didn't hesitate. She rose onto her toes and wrapped her arms around him, holding him with a steadiness that belied the knot tightening in her chest. He was warm, solid, familiar in a way that made her breath catch—because she hadn't expected to care this much about a goodbye that wasn't even permanent.

And when he pulled back, when the air between them shifted, she felt the subtle easing of the Force against her thoughts—the protective pressure he left behind like a quiet hand resting on her shoulder.

She swallowed once, then managed a small, genuine smile. "I'll be here when you're done," she murmured. "Or…maybe already in the sky."

A soft tilt of her mouth. Half a tease, half a truth—because she wasn't entirely sure she could sit still long enough to wait in silence.

But then, more sincere: "Be careful, Syn." She held his gaze—or the place where his gaze would have been—and let herself say the one thing she hadn't dared earlier: "And…I hope to see you again, too." The words hung there, fragile but certain.

She stepped back into the Starling's threshold, one hand braced lightly against the frame, watching him descend the ramp toward the temple, his silhouette framed by the rising morning light over Ahch-To.

Only once he disappeared into the green-and-stone landscape did she whisper, too quietly for anyone but her ship to hear:

"Maker… what now?"

The engines hummed in response—steady, patient, waiting.

Syn

 

[Syn]

Lyra Ventor

He gave aa bow of his head to her as he departed and going towards the temple the two guardian beings shifted with a sense of curiosity. THe rocks and trees creeping closer and around. As the guardians of Omean acknowledged Lyra with looks and waves to her departing. Syn standing on one of the temples higher platforms to observe the ship. HE had the chance to one day see her again and that would have to do for now... so he was in a place she could see him standing and watching. The jedi master glad that things had worked out best for them. He spoke mostly to the air but projected it with the force. "May the force be with you Lyra, it will keep you safe."