A/N: Finished a complex Revan costume recently, and and and and. There's more. But in the end, KotOR is one of my favourite games, and Revan is by far one of my favourite characters - and in my headcanon, Revan is always a woman. Just a ficlet, since I've been thinking about it all lately.
Revan didn't look up as Carth appeared in the entry of the cockpit. She continued to program the star chart and scanned the output as he spoke.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Can't stay in port forever," she replied, offering him a diplomatic grin before returning to work.
"So that's it then? You're just going to up and leave." Carth waved a hand. "In the middle of your tour."
"You want to be here about as much as I do, so don't try to convince me otherwise." There was the whirr of mechanics and computation as Revan folded the display back into the console and looked past him.
"Believe me, I've been as glad as the next guy to be out of public eye," Carth said, and took a tentative step forward. "But that doesn't mean I haven't been sticking to my duties - to what the Republic needs me to do. To what the citizens need."
Revan ran a hand up the back of the pilot's seat. "I think the masses have soaked up all of me that I can give."
"Then say no to the Council - I'd be the first one at your side, they've put you through enough."
T3-M4 bleeped and twirled on the floor around Revan's legs, before escaping past Carth and deeper into the Ebon Hawk. The comm bleeped with a message, but they merely stood there. His pain was palpable. She could feel it ebbing through the Force, a vice that tightened the longer their silence stretched.
"Just tell me the truth," Carth finally said, and his voice cracked. "At least give me that."
"I... where I'm going, Carth, I cannot bring anyone I love," Revan replied, pulling away from the pilot's chair to step within reach. She took his hand, and her voice was heavy. "And that is all the truth I can give."
"Are they making you do this? You don't owe the Jedi anything, Revan," Carth said, and squeezed her hand before letting go in his frustration. "They'd use you up and throw you away if they could, but I won't let that happen."
Revan shook her head and casually crossed her arms. "It isn't the Council. Don't worry - I don't think we'll be getting along any time soon. There are too many shades of grey - too many gradients. And I don't think they want to acknowledge that."
Carth exhaled and waved his arms aimlessly in frustration. "You're always doing that. You think I don't notice how you speak yourself out of the real question?" He searched her face, unwilling to yet look away. "You know I love you. You know I'd do anything for you."
Reaching for his hand, Revan's voice softened for his need. "I know." As he drew her hand up to his lips, she chuckled, "Maybe that's part of the problem. You'd get in the way trying to be all heroic and protective of me."
"I thought you liked that," he murmured, tucking her hand under his chin.
It was something Alek used to do when they were young.
Revan gripped Carth's hand and leant into his lips, planting a kiss that was hardened as he ran his hands up her arms. He drew her in, almost crushing with need, a kiss, a closeness brought by impending solitude. His fingers slipped into her hair, an arm around her waist, and she yielded to his need, swallowing the raw ferocity of her own pain. He breathed on her lips as he clutched her, and Revan's hand crept up his chest and neck, tracing some invisible line.
"How long?"
"I don't know," Revan whispered against his cheek. She couldn't bring herself to soothe it. She could make him walk away with a thought, could make him forget her. She had no doubt she could wipe it all away, and hoard the memories for herself - each drag of his lips on her skin, each snide remark and uselessly manly action. The curve of his smile in bed, and how his hands worshipped her.
"That's not good enough," he said, knotting his fingers into her long, brown hair. He shook his head, tears in the edge of his eyes. "Damn it."
"Stay here, mm?" Revan said, and sniffed in sharply. She tucked her head beneath the curve of his jaw. "The Republic needs strong soldiers like you. Good people."
"Right." Carth's voice rattle in his chest, and he kept his eyes closed as she nestled her nose into his cheek and throat. "Anything, beautiful. Anything you want."
Revan laughed oddly, and pulled from the embrace to inhale a cleansing breath. He kept a hand on her cheek that soon slid down her neck. "I think Bastilla and the Council representative are waiting – there is another gala tonight. You should put something dashing on."
"What," Carth said, and straightened his uniform. "This rag not up to your standards, your highness?"
"It isn't mine you need to worry about," Revan replied with a half-grin.
"Fine, fine," he said, watching her a moment more. He drifted to the back of the cockpit. "I'll see you then?"
Revan nodded and turned back to the navigation console as he walked through the ship. Her eyes closed, focused on Carth's presence as he walked off the ship. The absence left a raw hole behind, and she sealed it within. It was better that way – safer. A better Jedi would have broken it completely, would have surpassed it and found serenity.
But she wasn't a Jedi. She wasn't better. She was more, she was real. And that core of longing would be a light in the times to come.
"T3," she said, and had to clear her throat. "Initialize the engines."
From his place in the port, Carth turned too late and found the blast doors closed. The familiar rattle and roar of the Ebon Hawke's engines shook the docking bay.