Disclaimer: I do not own KOTOR.
Carth looked at Revan and sighed.
Rather, he looked at the man again and sighed again, because apparently he simply couldn't stop staring. He was smart enough to know that if he didn't, it was gonna start getting awkward because every time he looked was another opportunity for the far-from-oblivious man to catch on.
Except that, yeah, Revan probably already knew. He was a Jedi, after all, and so powerful, possibly the greatest Jedi ever. ...Maybe not the greatest ever, but he was still pretty damn powerful and anyway you didn't have to be a Jedi to notice someone is staring at you.
It was hopeless, really. He was hopeless. He, Carth. Not he, Revan, because, for once, Carth might actually be beginning to believe in someone, a little. Watching him change from the silly, cocky man he had met on the Endor Spire and known on the sprawling shithole politely referred to as "Taris," to the calm, cool, introspective Jedi on Dantooine, and watching him morph from there into what he was now, with all the pieces finally fallen into place about who and what he really was.
Or, originally was. Because this Revan wasn't the dark lord anymore.
He couldn't be.
And that's why Carth couldn't stop staring.
He could see it in Revan's eyes— the weight of the knowledge of what he had done. He could see the guilt there, very faint but undeniable to anyone who had known him as long as Carth had. Who had seen when those eyes were clear and laughing and sharp, Revan's intelligence the only thing they were hiding. Carth couldn't imagine what it felt like. Not the guilt, actually, because he was familiar enough with that, but what that one moment must have been like for Revan: when he'd realized that Bastila had reprogrammed him and that his entire "life" had never happened. And that his real past was one completely incompatible with his new personality.
It was a nightmare.
Also it made Carth's paranoid side flare up, but that went without saying and was, ultimately, beside the point.
The point, Carth reminded himself, was that there was nothing evil in those eyes. Carth didn't know the Jedi code or the Sith code or much about the Force (he was about as Force-sensitive as a rock, actually), but he knew people, and he knew how to read their eyes, and he knew what evil looked like in those things. It had been in Saul's but he'd been too naive to see it. What evil looked like in someone's eyes was cruelty and greed and hate and anger, and it was simple: none of those things were in Revan's.
Revan finally looked up and straight at him, and Carth quickly looked away, trying to pretend that he'd been fiddling with his datapad this whole time and definitely, obviously, not staring at a Jedi and thinking he could get away with it because that would be silly and Carth wasn't silly.
"Something on my face?" Revan asked calmly, and Carth's heart did some kind of lurching thing because it had been months since he'd seen any sense of humor from Revan. Not since he'd found out he was Revan.
"Yeah, you've got something hanging out of your nose," Carth lied lamely. Did Jedi even have boogers? "I was trying to decide if I should tell you."
Revan raised an eyebrow but swiped at his nose all the same. "Thanks. Did I get it?"
Carth nodded a few times. "Oh, yeah, it's gone."
Clearly uncertain that there was anything there to begin with, Revan shook his head and returned to the blaster he was upgrading.
Carth managed to keep his eyes under control for about twenty minutes until they decided to glue themselves back to the former dark lord and resolutely not move, no matter how hard he tried to make them.
The soldier flinched when Revan again looked up from what he was doing. "Is there a reason you're staring at me?"
"I... you're... I mean..."
"Because there doesn't have to be," he interrupted him. "If you want to stare, just stare. Don't try to hide it."
This time Carth wasn't staring, he was gaping.
"You're the one who taught me not to hide things," Revan continued, absently straightening the discarded components of the blaster. He added, "You won't learn anything by watching me more closely."
"You're not Revan," Carth blurted.
Revan blinked at him. He was surprised, but nonetheless his voice was heavy. "Right," he said carefully.
"Right," Carth echoed, wondering if he sounded like a child or just extremely stupid.
"After the fact, at least," Revan continued even more carefully. "I definitely was Revan. Just... so we're clear."
"Right," Carth repeated again. He made a mental note to improve his vocabulary.
Revan stared back at him for a long moment, then shook his head and mumbled something to himself that Carth didn't catch. He was mostly glad he didn't hear, in fact, because he could imagine that he would be rather offended if he had. Deciding to take his own advice, Carth resolved not to hide his staring anymore, and continued his observations openly.
The former dark lord ignored him as much as a Jedi can ignore his surroundings, focusing his attention on the blaster. Belatedly, Carth realized it was his blaster.
It felt like getting trampled by a stampede of Bantha when Carth made this connection.
He trusted Revan.
They were alone in a room together, no one within earshot or helping distance. Revan was a Jedi, with the Force and a big, murderous lightsaber. Carth was entirely unarmed. In fact, the other man had his weapon. Revan could turn around and kill him with a flick of his hand, make him disappear, and no one would be the wiser.
All that, and Carth, with all his paranoia, hadn't even noticed.
That decided, he stood up, nodded, and said, "Revan," firmly.
The Jedi glanced up, raising an eyebrow.
"I trust you."
The other eyebrow went up to join its companion and form a look of disbelief. "What?"
"You heard me," he replied in his best Soldier Voice, brisk and unwavering. "I trust you. You'll do this right, and I'll follow you wherever you need to go."
Revan stared at him for a long time, time during which Carth kept his expression firm, determined, and honest, not that Revan needed to see his face to know what he was feeling.
Finally, Revan nodded back. "Alright," he said calmly. "Thank you."
Carth nodded one last time, sharp and military, and strode from the room, his head held up high.
As he turned the corner, he looked back just in time to see a small, genuine smile form on Revan's face as he worked on the blaster.
As the door slid closed behind him, Carth was, for once in his life, absolutely certain that he'd made the right decision.