Star Wars Universe, and so Dooku, Jocasta and all other characters (c) George Lucas. I only borrow them for a piece of non-profit fiction.
The quote belongs to Leonard Cohen, and it's from the song Hallelujah.
This ff is for Kaja and Selene – you both know why :)
--
Flashes
--
There's a blaze of light in every word
(It doesn't matter which you've heard
The holy or the broken hallelujah)
--
He kneels beside the woman's still, petite form. Her breath is almost inaudible, but he can feel it. Her features are cool and calm, but pain has wrinkled her forehead and shaded her eyes. He raises his hand to touch a strand of milky white hair, hanging loose alongside her cheeks, but his hand stops in mid-air.
Like that, it will be easier. Keeping the distance. He cannot allow any weakness.
He reaches for the darkness, ready to envelop every thought deeply in the shadow…
--
-- flash, of a speeder's light somewhere below --
A seven-year-old boy is sitting on the stairs of the Temple, watching the speeders and air-taxis skiming past. There is something fascinating about the streets of Coruscant, always crowded, always full of motion. Coruscant really is a city that never sleeps. There is only…
"'Too much noise," says a high-pitched voice beside him.
He turns. A girl about his age, or maybe older by year or two, is standing next to him.
"I don't mind," he says, dismissively. Not too much, anyway, he thinks. One of the Temple speeders bolts past them, making the girl's hair fly into her face.
"You've not been in the Temple for too long, have you?" she asks, pushing her hair out of her face. Fair strands are now all tangled, giving her a slightly untidy look.
"No."
"You'll learn to mind…" she gives him a quizzical looks, but she notices he clearly does not want to talk, for she turns away and begins her climb back to the Temple.
She seemed quite kind, he thinks. For a moment he wonders who she is, he has never seen her before. Well, the Temple is big, he concludes finally. There is little chance he will meet her again.
-- flash of the afternoon sun behind the windows of the Archives --
He enters the Archives, enjoying the peaceful silence. He has been a padawan for over seven years now, which he considers quite an achievement. Yoda can be a very demanding Master at times, although – Yan has to admit – he is never unfair.
He has learned to enjoy the rare times his Master is away, even though he has to study – he needs some time all by himself, that is just the way he is.
He sighs and approaches the main desk. A young librarian raises her head and he holds his breath.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for the… I forgot the title, about the ancient Jedi Enclave on Dantooine," he manages to say.
Her face is kind, just as he remembers. She is not pretty, no. But before, he has not noticed how incredibly blue her eyes are, or how her hair glow in the light, or…
"Right there," she indicates the right direction with her hand. "Just call me if you'll need any help."
"Thank you," he nods and walks away, rather hastily.
He tries to read the book for the rest of the afternoon, but he cannot get past one third. It is difficult to concentrate on history having the image of her smile in mind.
-- flash of the meteo station up in the sky --
He is standing on the balcony of one of the Temple's four towers. That high even Coruscant becomes quiet. He only misses the stars. But Corusant's night sky is too bright.
"Pity you can't see the stars," says a familiar voice behind him.
He turns abruptly, startled.
She smiles at him, apologisingly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"You didn't…" he begins, and then halts. She did startle him. "All right, you did. But it's okay."
For a while they stare down at the busy streets, shimmering with lights.
"You were right."
She raises her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"You were right about the noise. I've learned to mind." He smiles.
"Oh, that." To his surprise, she laughs. She has a nice laugh.
He reaches a decision.
"Yan", he offers a hand.
Her palm briefly meets his, her touch warm and gentle, but firm.
"Jocasta."
-- flash of light in the sparkling water --
He is waiting for her in the Room of the Thousand Fountains.
"Over here!" he calls upon seeing a well-known silhouette.
"Coming!" she answers.
After a moment she is sitting next to him, measuring him with a cautious look.
"What are you up to, Yan? I know you, you're planning something…"
"Well… not exactly…" his voice bears an uncharacteristic trace of something suspiciously alike shyness.
She stares at him anxiously.
"What is it?"
"I'm going to face the Trials. Soon. Master Yoda told me today."
Her face lightens up in a smile.
"Yan, that's wonderful! You'll be a Jedi Knight finally!"
"Yes, Jo, like you, but…" he hesitates. He does not finish. He does not have to.
They both know things will change once he is a Jedi. Jocasta is a historian, so she spends a lot of time in the Temple, but once he is knighted he would be away. Often. Too often.
She lays her palm on his.
"It's all right. We don't see each other much lately, anyway."
"But I know you're always here. Almost always," he corrects himself.
"Are you trying to tell me you're going to miss me? How sweet!" she teases, but only half-heartedly.
"Miss you? Jo, be serious, why should I miss…"
"Your best friend?"she interrupts. "I have no idea. That's like… Oh, just imagine me missing you."
"Ridiculous. I see absolutely no reason. Just think, to miss your best friend?"
They laugh together. He wishes to remember them like that for all the missions to come – laughing, together.
-- flash of a green lightsaber, cutting off his padawan braid --
"Rise, young knight", Yoda's voice rings throughout the Council chamber. The short announcement, without the usually reversed grammar, does not sound much like Yoda.
Yan feels weird.
Someone turns the lights back on, and he notices the empty space beside the door, where Lorian should be standing. It hurts. But, next to the empty place, there is Jocasta. His closest friend. His only true friend? Maybe. It is enough.
Yoda congratulates him, and then, before the other Masters have a chance to get closer, Jocasta rushes to him, then shakes his hand. She smiles at him, proud that now he is a Knight, too, and suddenly all falls back into place.
Nothing is awkward anymore. He is at home.
-- flash of a mirror among the endless desert sands --
"Over here!" cries a woman's voice, enhanced with the Force.
He lands his speeder just over the big dune, where the archeo-camp is located. He jumps down gracefully. A yellow-clad figure is approaching him. Her face is hidden behind a white headscarf.
"Welcome to Dathomir", the woman greets him cheerfully, climbing closer. She uncovers her face, and he lets out a surprised gasp.
"Jocasta?"
The woman is close enough to recognize his face.
"Sweet Force, Yan? They sent you here?" she laughs, and quickens her pace. "How good to see you!"
He smiles indulgently, but he is happy to see her, too, and he knows she knows it.
"The ship will be ready on the morrow," he announces, wishing to have all formal matters attended immediately.
"We're packed already," she answers. Her opinion on formalities is the same as his. "So it's just waiting 'til tomorrow."
"What a treasure have you found that requires an escort?," he asks, curious.
"You call one Jedi an escort?," she teases. When he does not respond, she continues. "I can't tell you, at least not now." She tucks her hand under his arm. "Come on, you have to tell me everything."
"What everything?" he puzzles, but lets her lead him to the camp.
"Yan Dooku, I haven't seen you since your knighting, which makes almost two years by now, and you ask what everything?! Come. And you may begin talking right away."
He obeys, finally smiling.
-- flash of a blaster bolt, speeding towards her --
This is a one bolt too much. She does not manage to deflect it, and fells onto the ground, wounded. He wants to rush to her, to check if she is all right, but his steel self-control holds him in place, protecting the senator. In a blink of an eye the politician is safe in the ship, and Yan leaps for Jocasta. The ship cannons protect him, but one of the bolt reaches his arm. He does not pay attention.
He takes Jocasta into his arms and lifts her from the ground easily. He races into the ship, all the way making sure she would not be hit again.
Later, he sits beside the bed, watching her. She is conscious now, and safe, but in pain.
He silently curses the agreement they have set, that the mission always goes first when they get an assignment together. But that is what being a Jedi means. Their lives for others.
"You promised, remember?" she reminds him, receiving the echo of his feelings through the Force.
He nods. That is the way it has to be.
"Remember, remember. Sleep," he tries to sound careless, but from the way he avoids her eyes she knows he is only pretending.
-- flash of a medical needle --
He mumbles something incomprehensive. The healer looks at him understandingly.
"I know you don't like injections, but you know I have to. It's the last set," Knight Luminara Unduli explains patiently.
"Praised be the Force," this time the words are clear. He intended to be ironic, but he is not feeling well and the mockery loses some of its power on the way.
"Excuse me", comes a voice from the corridor. "Where can I find… Oh, Yan, you're here," Jocasta hurries to the side of his bed. Luminara gives her a glance and leaves.
"How are you doing?" Jocasta asks warmly.
"Great. Wonderful."
"Yan, please stop that," a stern look appears on her face. "You know I've been worried."
He sighs.
"Yes. Sorry…"
"All right," her face softens. "Congratulations on becoming a Jedi Master," she offers a small smile.
"Thank you…" he get the title of the Master over half a year ago, but she was away on another archeological mission. He tries to smile back. "Have you met my padawan?"
"On the way here, yes. And I've met him in the Archives a few times before, you know. An exceptional boy."
"I have high hopes." Qui-Gon has been his padawan for only five months, but he already feels bound to the boy.
"You'll get on well, trust me", she sits on the edge of the bed. "I've brought the new Altari's book, would you like me to read to you?"
His gaze is grateful.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
She smiles at him.
"You're welcome."
-- flash of light in her amber pendant --
She enters his quarters. She wears an amber-shaded dress, and even a bit of jewellery. She is not a classical beauty, but there is something in her that draws his gaze.
"Ready to go?"
"Just one moment, Qui-Gon is trying to do something with his hair…," he sighs theatrically.
His padawan must have heard Jocasta's question, for he runs into the room.
"Coming!" He stops at the sight of Jocasta. "Madame Nu, you're dazzling!"
She laughs. She laughs a lot. Her laughter doen not sound like music – in fact, none does – but Yan enjoys hearing it.
"Thank you, Qui-Gon. Now, are we ready?"
"Yes", Yan answers, offering Jocasta him arm. "Let's hurry, the won't wait for us."
They have quite a lot of time, but he wishes to show Jocasta the whole Opera House this time.
He leans to whispers into his friend's ear.
"You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you, Master Dooku," she answers, being playful again. Even becoming a member of the Council has not changed that part of her. "You make quite a handsome Jedi, you know?"
He smiles.
"Now I know. Thank you, Madame Nu."
"Master, are you coming?", Qui-Gon's voice rings along the corridor.
"Yes, padawan. We are."
-- flash of sunlight on the floor of the Archives --
And a familiar shadow the sun casts on the marbles. She is carrying a few books, very cauciously, as they are a rare treasure now in the era of datapads. But he can understand nothing can be compared to the silent rustle of real paper pages being turned.
Carefully, he snatches the books from her using the Force. She freezes in motion for a moment, startled, then turns and notices it is him.
"Yan, you startled me," the words are reproaching, but the tone in mild.
He smiles at her as the books land safely in his hands.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
She waves her hand at him.
"All right, all right. So now you are holding these books, would you be so kind as to carry them for me?"
He actually winks at her.
"You wish is my command, Madame."
She shakes her head, stiflfing a laughter.
"'Come."
They walk along the Archives together, chatting. He tells her about his apprentice's progress – he is so proud of the boy, though he would never admit it loudly, except - to her.
"Over here," she stops and reaches for the books.
He hands her a one and is holding the rest while she puts the first book on the shelf. After a while all books are back in place.
"Thank you," she looks at him with a humorous sparkle in her eyes. "You've became quite a gentleman lately."
"Lately?" he raises one eyebrow at her.
"Okey, I admit this 'lately' has been lasting for some time now…" she likes to tease him sometimes, and in her occasional playfulness there is a strange warmth.
He suddenly wants to tell her something, something important, desperately struggling for words and failing. But, after all, maybe he will not need words.
Making sure there is no one else around, he gathers her in his arms, then leans down to kiss her. She neither resists nor responds. He is confused as he finally lets her go.
There is a noise from the adjoining room – someone is coming. She takes a step back, without a word. He is uncertain, afraid he should not have done that.
He recognizes Yoda's slow footsteps approaching.
Just before she turns to go, her gaze meets his. She is smiling slightly, and there is something in her eyes that makes his heart beat quicker.
"I look forward to our next talk, Master Dooku", she says, and walks out of the Archives.
He turns to study the books, so that Yoda could not see the gleam in his eyes.
-- flash of the door-bell, waking him up before he had a chance to fall asleep --
He blinks in disbelief as a slender figure enters his room and silently closes the door behind her. She makes no sound. He sits up rapidly.
"Jocasta?" he asks, his voice still sleepy. No, he must be dreaming.
She does not answer. He gets up from the bed just as she reaches it. They are standing face to face, without a move or word. He notices a small smile on her lips. His throat suddenly feels dry; he swallows.
And then, it comes to him she understood what he haven't said back there in the Archives, and now she was giving him an answer.
He wants to ask her, he needs words – even one would be enough – but she raises her hand and puts a finger on his lips.
"Hush…" she whispers, barely audibly. Don't say anything.
This, too, he understands. His gaze slids over her hair, glowing softly in the moonlight, over her face, and stops on her hand which she draws down his chest, her fingers feather-light. He inhales deeply, slowly. He looks at her face, and is surprised how shy her smile is. Then he notices the way she avoids his gaze, and it occurs to him she must be blushing. For, under the boldness, there is fear. Fear of the emotions they both feel, but neither of them dares to name.
A hand resting over his heart is gone, and suddenly she embraces him, resting her head on his chest. Her breath burns. And tickles – with this realization a smile crosses his lips – a real smile, warm and affectionate. She does not see it, but seems aware of it nonetheless.
"I can hear your heartbeat," she says softly, her voice somehow both shy and steady, with a shade of a strange confidence.
He puts his arms around her, gently pulling her closer to him. One palm moves to stroke her fair hair. He breathes in her scent. She smells of happiness.
He feels something deep within his heart has moved, and will never be as it used to. There are no words between them, and he knows there will not be any words.
What was not named maybe does not exist. But, what has not existed, can never end.
-- flash of movement, in the Force, just behind him --
He spins around to parry her blow. A group of apprentices is staring, Qui-Gon among them. He knows they have a reason. When he duels with Jocasta, it's a show well worth watching. He is strong and steady, she is quick and smart, both elegant. He is a swordsman, she is a historian, not a real fighter, and thus she is not able to stand up to him for long. But it is long enough to gain her sighs of awe from the padawans.
She is tired and breathing heavily, her hair a mess, but he founds himself staring. There is a certain beauty within her he could never really capture into words or coherent thoughts.
"But, Madame Nu, you lost", remarks Tahl, curious what was the whole thing about.
"Yes, but that was not the point", she answers. "Can anyone tell me what the point was, then?"
His padawan frowns for a while, and then looks at Jocasta. Qui-Gon already knows her, and knows that she is a swordmaster too, like Dooku, only she uses her wits as a weapon.
"Because if it had been a real fight, it would give the time for escape anyone who might have needed it? Like, say, someone a Jedi would have been protecting?"
He watches Jocasta as she smiles and ruffles Qui-Gon's hair, in a half-friendly, half-motherly gesture.
"Point for you, padawan."
It is ridiculous, but the whole thing makes him proud. Of Qui-Gon - this much is obvious. But also proud of her. He has no right to it, he knows, for all is unspoken, and to everyone they are no more than fellow Jedi, or friends. But she still is his Jocasta, and for him that is enough.
-- flash of a tear in her eye --
She tries to comfort him. Odd that she is the one crying. His eyes are dry. There are no more tears left.
She has no words, she can only sit beside him, her palm on his arm. She tried to embrace him, but he gently pulled away. He does not want that much. It would be too much, and he needs to be strong. He does not want more tears. Because no matter how many of them he would cry, they will not bring Qui-Gon back. Nothing will.
"Yan…", she whispers, and her voice is almost too much to bear. Because of him, Qui-Gon was like a son for her too. This one word, the way she spoke it, it makes him understand she does need some physical comfort. He reaches for his steel self-control, and then he reaches for Jocasta, putting his arms around her and drawing her to his chest. He holds her tightly, and strokes her hair. He does not utter a word. She needs only his touch, his warmth. She needs to hear his heartbeat.
There must be a way to stop things like this. Politics should be left for politicians… It is then he reaches a decision. He is still the count of Serenno. And he is not sure he can be a proper Jedi after all that happened… So be it.
Finally, they part and rise from the stone bench. She whispers a goodnight. He touches her cheek, and lets his palm linger there for a while. Then he bends his head and kisses her softly.
"Goodnight, Jocasta." Goodnight. Goodbye.
-- flash of a well-known face in the crowded hall of the Senate --
He recognizes her at once, even though her hair is now white, and her face wrinkled slightly. He does not manage to remain silent.
"Jocasta?"
She turns abruptly. Her eyes widen.
"How are you?," he asks politely, wanting to talk to her but not really knowing how to begin. So much has changed since their last meeting. And the fact he did not say goodbye…
Someone calls her from the other end of the hall, and Dooku recognizes Mace Windu, Qui-Gon's friend once…
Jocasta looks intently into his eyes.
"Come back…," she pleads, and then walks away.
He stares after her. He has a feeling something is slipping from his hands, and he is no longer able to keep it.
-- flash of white hair in the lift, just as the doors are closing --
He holds the door back with the Force and rushes inside. She does not visit Senate often, he has to take that chance, and now.
She does not even turn to him.
"Jocasta…" he begins, and reaches to touch her shoulder. She flinches, and takes a step back, without a word. But her face says it clearly. Do not touch me.
She knows, crosses his mind suddenly. She knows…She might have accepted a politician. She would never accept someone tainted with the Dark Side… a Sith that he has become.
"Jocasta…" he was a Jedi once, he is a count, a senator, a Sith, and none of them pleads, but now he is aware he does. "Jocasta, please, talk to me…"
She is silent, her face blank. She is continuously looking at the door.
"Jocasta, it's not what you think…" Damn, of what he is trying to convince her? That truth is not true?
A soft ring, an the lift stops. The door opens.
"Jocasta…" his tone is desperate.
She walks out. Then she turns her head and gives him a short, stiff nod. When she speaks, her tone is polite and cool, and impassive.
"Good day to you, count Dooku."
The door closes. He is alone.
-- flash of a blue lightsaber, ignited suddenly in the silence of the Archives --
She stands before him, lightsaber in hand. There is a tired smile on her face, very tired.
"Yan."
He looks at her, his eyes almost beseeching.
"Jocasta, don't."
She raises her head, her gaze piercing.
"I will not let you pass," her voice is calm and soft, but firm like durasteel.
His face is serious, his tone determined. He has to delete that data, or the whole plan will be ruined. And Sidious does not take failures lightly.
"You won't stop me."
She salutes him gracefully with her lightsaber.
"Yet I will try."
Before he is able to salute back, he has to ignite his own weapon to stop her attack. He has forgotten how quick she could be… His counterattack is effortless, however, and after a while he has her spinning around him, not attacking now, only parrying. He is a swordsman, she in an archivist. This duel is already over.
Sabers clash, but it takes all of her strength to hold hers in place, against his. Her hands on the hilt are shaking with effort.
He does not want it to end like that.
"You cannot win, Jocasta…"
Damn, she knows it, why doesn't she…
Her gaze is serene, and the smile that appears on her faze is both sad and tired.
"Neither can you."
And he understands that even being a Sith, even after all he has already done, he will not be able to kill her. Not her.
"No. But I can get you out of my way."
With a mighty Force blow he sends her flying against the wall. She manages to stop just before colliding and lowers herself onto the floor. Her breath is ragged, but her face remains perfectly calm. It puzzles him.
"What are you waiting for?" she asks, silently, but her voice is clear.
She leaps into the air, and lightsabers clash again. He parries her blows easily. She is tired, too tired to continue for long…
His left hand leaves the hilt of his lightsaber and reaches towards her. She falls down as the Force lightning strikes her unconscious.
-- flash of… --
--
-- flash of slowly opening eyes --
She opens her eyes. There is confusion. She looks at him, letting her gaze linger on his face. He feels a painful pang in the place where once his heart had been . She smiles at him, a tiny, warm smile she offers only rarely. It occurs to him she is not fully conscious yet.
"Yan?" she whispers, and her voice suddenly sounds years younger, echoing with that special note she has used only a few times in her life. And each time it has been for him...
Flashes of memories, swirling in his mind in a wild dance, yet again.
He cups her cheek with his palm, tenderly.
"Hush, I'm here. It's all right, Jocasta," his voice is soft, soothing.
Her hand touches his.
"You're back…"
She's not fully awakened…
And then, he reaches a decision. She will not remember. He is a Sith, he does not know mercy or compassion. He should not know. And yet he cannot hurt her that much. He will wipe out all her memories of this evening.
He brushes a strand of hair out of her face with his free hand. His other hand is still touching her cheek. Touching it with the Force, touching her mind with the Force. Her eyelids are closing slowly, as he is putting her to sleep. She is still smiling at him.
"I'm here." Words will not matter anyway, for she will not remember. "I'm here." But he will. He will, and maybe the awareness of it makes him finally say that long unspoken word. "I'm with you, love…"
A flash of something wet in his eyes… He blinks it away. The damned treacherous drop, and the memories with it.
Weakness.
She will not remember…
He wonders briefly if she tries to think the way he does. If she tries to forget he is not only a Sith. Because like that, it is easier. The Jedi fight the Sith, the Sith fight the Jedi. Nothing personal.
He shakes his head.
Fool, utter fool.
Even if there has been something between them, it is over…
There is no Jocasta, there is no Yan. Only a Jedi and a Sith. End of story.
--
-- But, what has not existed, can never end. --
--
Author's note:
I decided to go for Dooku/Jocasta because: 1) - we can't be sure if they were a couple or no, which leaves some place for fan's creativity, 2) I like writing less exploited characters, like Jo, and even Dooku (come on, he deserves more fanfics ;)). And 3) - I don't believe he was all evil, but that may be only my opinion ;)
Plus, writing Dooku lets you mention the Opera and get away with it XD - or at least I hope so.