Fierce Like Hope
Apr. 29th, 2017 09:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
athousanderrorsvia http://ift.tt/2qib9yA:
sarkastically:
Spiritassassin Week 2017, Prompt 2: Alternative universe/timeline
(Not happy with this fic so much, but I’ve had this idea about Saw taking Jyn to Jedha because the Guardians would raise her better than he would and this happened and eh. Don’t hold it against me.)
As much as he wanted to, Saw Gerrera quickly discovered that he was not going to be able to keep his promise to the Ersos. The life that he led, the rebellion that he was building, brick by brick, slowly but with force and power, was not a life that meshed well with raising a child. Suddenly he understood Galen’s hesitancy, and the fact that Lyra–Lyra who he had always known to have a frown on her face, a shrewd look in her eye and at least three weapons on her person at all times–had exchanged her daggers for braids, had given up shooting for baking. There was something about a child, about their round doe eyes and their trust, that made the world softer somehow, made one want to put their head in the sand and stop looking at everything that was ugly because it was better to pretend, even in the middle of war.
Keep reading
(Your picture was not posted)
sarkastically:
Spiritassassin Week 2017, Prompt 2: Alternative universe/timeline
(Not happy with this fic so much, but I’ve had this idea about Saw taking Jyn to Jedha because the Guardians would raise her better than he would and this happened and eh. Don’t hold it against me.)
As much as he wanted to, Saw Gerrera quickly discovered that he was not going to be able to keep his promise to the Ersos. The life that he led, the rebellion that he was building, brick by brick, slowly but with force and power, was not a life that meshed well with raising a child. Suddenly he understood Galen’s hesitancy, and the fact that Lyra–Lyra who he had always known to have a frown on her face, a shrewd look in her eye and at least three weapons on her person at all times–had exchanged her daggers for braids, had given up shooting for baking. There was something about a child, about their round doe eyes and their trust, that made the world softer somehow, made one want to put their head in the sand and stop looking at everything that was ugly because it was better to pretend, even in the middle of war.
Keep reading
(Your picture was not posted)
