Jyn and Arthur
Jyn had been shooed out of the Kingsby Tavern and told to 'Go somewhere else, Erso, there's a lass,' by the slightly frazzled innkeep, sometime before the start of the opening ceremonies. So, at loose ends, she'd wandered her way down to the Circle to watch. It made her feel disconnected, strange, like she was dreaming or dead, to be in the crowd at a spectacle that official without a lick of disguise, unless you counted the circlet of poppies and red ribbon some of the dairymaids at work had made for her and pressed her to wear, which she didn't.
She didn't expect to learn much. But a public speech at least told you something of how a government wanted to be seen.
Afterward, because she judged that she hadn't really been away long enough to avoid a second shooing, she ambled a bit, looking here and there. Rounding the corner of a tent and coming upon Arthur was. Not. Planned.
Jyn blinked at him. Looked him over. Blinked again. Said, "Hello. Good morning for it."