Forever and For Always
Rated: PG-13 (may change with chapters…)
Genre: Drama/Romance/Fantasy
Spoilers: none… I don't think.
Main Characters: Anakin Skywalker (age 19+) and other SW characters, as well as Myjera, an original character from my own brain
Time Period: Same as AOTC (Ani's 19, Obi-Wan is 35, and Myjera is 17)
Summary: Complete AU fic. The story of two force-driven people, Anakin and Myjera, who are reunited after a decade of living separate lives. Both are deeply wounded emotionally from past events, secrets and wounds concealed, until they realize that the only way to fulfill their duties is to accept life as it comes, and to put their painful pasts behind them. Together, they'll come to a mutual conclusion their destinies lie down the same winding road.
Author's note: Not all events will be chronologically correct, nor will they follow the movies or books for many of the events to come. The characters you know will keep their same personalities- I just like to say "What if?", and put them in very different situations. I'm open for future chapter suggestions, however I do have a storyline in mind, so forgive me if they don't make it into the story. Enjoy, and R&R if you please! PLEASE!
Disclaimer: Any original Star Wars character belongs solely to Master Lucas (although I wish Anakin belonged to me…smiles). This stuff is called FANFICTION for a reason, folks! Myjera and Murash are mine (as well as a few others that may come along). Forever and For Always is the title from the song sung by Shania Twain. I think it pertains a lot to this story, and I may even use it in a songfic chapter, but it IS NOT MINE. Don't sue!
-Mind communication
-Thoughts
Tatooine
"..."
"..."
Jawas surrounded the small escape pod, jabbering amongst themselves and occasionally bickering about whether or not the life support system was worth more than the pod itself. The argument was quickly interrupted when they heard a small whimpering noise coming from the inside of the vessel.
"...?"
The creatures cautiously began to pry the lid off of the pod, stun blasters ready in the case of danger or resistance. They lifted the hatch open slowly, hoping that what they had heard had been a figment of their imaginations. They wanted the mechanical equipment, nothing else. Much to their disappointment, it was far from empty.
She was huddled in a crevice; her long, dark hair was tangled and dirty, and the bruises on her tan arms and legs were starting to turn a purplish-blue. She couldn't have been more than four years old by the look of her, but when she spoke, though weakly, one would undoubtedly second-guess that observation.
"Are you the natives of this world?"
Her soft lavender eyes pleaded for the right answer, the silver flecks no longer illuminating them. She appeared frail, perhaps barely alive.
The Jawas inspected her foreign appearance. They had indeed seen many creatures before, for Tatooine was far from being an homogenously populated planet. However, she was distinctly different from any race they had ever encountered. They tried without success to read the lines of small, silver-blue writing tattooed across her forehead in a flowing V-formation that peaked just above her small, distinct nose. The same writing was spiraled around her thin right arm as well, obviously of some important meaning. She was wrapped only in a white cloth, a dirty blue rope tied around her tiny waist to hold it in place. She was barefoot, and her tiny feet were cut and bleeding from the many blisters. She was very thin, her skin pulled gauntly against her face and arms. She couldn't have eaten in the past few days, perhaps even in the last few weeks, and she looked as if she was going to fade away in front of them at any moment. She was completely alone, surrounded only by a few books, bound in the hide of some unknown animal, both of which seemed to be far too large for a child of her size to have carried, much less understand. Yet she hugged them to her chest as if they were great blocks of precious metals. The hand that did not clutch her books was wrapped fondly around a ring that hung on a necklace around her graceful neck.
"..."
A storm was coming. They would have to move quickly. The largest Jawa took the young wonder in his arms, signaling to the others to grab what they could and head back to the crawler. Five of them grabbed the support system from the side of the pod, while two small creatures carried her blessed books. The smallest of the group looked at the frail girl with a certain admiration, and never looked away from her for more than a few seconds. He held her small, thin hand as they hurried to get out of the storm.
They got in just in time, lifting the hatch behind them as the sands raged outside. The females quickly took the youngling under their wing as they would one of their own, and hurried to feed her and clean her up. They wrapped her in linens and laid her down in a pile of blankets, hoping she would get some rest after the long and hard journey she must have had to endure.
Murash heard a loud knock at the entrance to her small hovel. The older woman finished the page in her book, and then rose to get the door.
"Now who in the Maker's name could that be?" she muttered to herself as she pressed the opener code. She frowned at the sight of her visitors.
"I don't want any. Leave me in peace," she said, agitated with the Jawas. They quickly protested.
"What do you mean 'a gift'? The only gift you've ever given me was a headache! Now SCOOT! Go on, SHOO!"
They shrugged in defeat and turned to leave. It was then that Murash heard a small, yet calm voice.
"I beg your pardon, M'Lady, I am sorry to intrude upon you. I meant no wrong. I am only looking for a place to stay, and I will surely earn my keep. I do, however, honor your desire to be left alone. I expect to be turned away from such an immense request… there must surely be other places where I may be of use…"
The woman stood in awe at the young child. She was speechless. The girl's head hardly reached her hip.
"My child," she gasped, "such speech for one so young! I don't believe I have met you before, nor anyone quite like you," she smirked. She looked at the child thoughtfully, her pleading, innocent eyes boring a hole into her soul.
"Please, come in and sit with me. I shall get you a drink. You must be thirsty from your long walk…"
The girl's face brightened, the hope it previously displayed transforming into an expression of deep gratitude.
"Thank you, so very much…"
Murash smiled lovingly at the young girl before her. "And what may I call you, my dear?"
The girl smiled. "Myjera. Myjera Liliath Tiquestua, if you want to be formal."
"I am pleased to meet you Myjera, I hope you feel welcome here."
Twelve years later…
Murash stood on the back steps of the small hovel, still in her night-robe.
"Lily! Myjera?!" She yelled out into the desert. She received no reply, and in turn walked back inside to prepare breakfast.
Where is that child?
I am no longer a child, dearest lady…
Myjera Liliath! Sometimes I wonder if you use your powers for your own amusement more than for the purpose they were meant…
I shall be home soon.
How soon?
Knock knock.
Murash jumped in surprise at the unexpected interruption. She walked over to the door, trying to suppress the urge to laugh as she opened it.
"Must you do that?" Murash asked the young woman in front of her. "I am getting far too old for this."
Myjera smiled. She had now grown into a lovely young woman, her 17th birthday only a few days away. She looked down at the kind, gentle lady who had raised her, even though she herself was only 1.41 meters tall (AN- 4'11"). She was petite- thin, but well proportioned, and graceful as could be. Her features had grown more mature, but yet they remained as exotically beautiful as they had when she had first come to Tatooine. She took care to place a soft kiss on the older lady's forehead, and brushed past her to empty the contents of her basket on the table.
"I had to pick the grandi fruit while it was ripe," she said, polishing the purple orbs. "I believed it best to go out early, before the suns rose and grew too warm. The paste I am making should help you greatly with your joint aches."
"I'm getting old," Murash joked, "my bones have the right to be weary."
Myjera smiled good-naturedly at her companion, as she walked into the room they shared. She sat down on her mat in the far corner, next to her sleeping area, where she kept all of her supplies. There was a small table in the corner, covered with a red cloth on which sat candles of all sizes and scents. Next to the table stood a grand bookcase, shelves filled with containers and vials full of substances of all sorts. Some were leaves, others liquids, as well as a few pastes. She reached into a box and pulled out a clean crucible. Filling it with the pulp from the fruit, she began to mash it into a liquid as she began her meditation.
She closed her eyes and opened her mind, as she began to feel the familiar energy flow through her. She felt her mind settle into a higher existence, and she said a few prayers before proceeding. The candles lit behind her, all in the specific order that she had willed, the scent powerful yet gentle as it filled her senses. She continued to project the energy into the paste, and, when she felt it become the proper potency, opened her lavender eyes.
It sometimes scared her, these strange powers. She could not answer why she had been given the gift of knowing how to use them. Yet, she felt that she had them for a reason, and she must continue her knowledge. She had been able to hone them since a toddler, at least as far back as she remembered, for they had been given to her, not necessarily taught to her.
It had started when she was born. Her parents had been force-healers on Dathomir, members of an ancient tradition not used by the other members of the community. Her mother and father had been powerful healers, but were often outcast because of their beliefs. Everything her parents had ever learned about healing had been passed on to her genetically, and when she was to have a child, her knowledge would be given to them in the same way. She had been born with the name Liliath, shown by the markings in her forehead and arm, a symbol of the ancient tradition she was born into; one of which was quickly dying out in the universe. At her annointion, when she was four years old, she had received her healing name, Myjera, as well as the stone ring that she now wore on her middle finger. It was 20 generations old, and it was said to contain the great powers of the healers that had come before her. That night, when a clan of Nightsisters heard news of the child receiving the ring, they kidnapped her, hoping to intercept the power that the ring supposedly contained. Myjera was able to escape, but she was now in danger, and her parents sensed it. Together, Myjera and her parents took a small ship and left, in hope of preserving their way of life. They had traveled to Tatooine, and had intention of staying there, but the cooling system in the ship had broken, leaving Myjera to escape in the pod with the spell books and meditation instructions for curing various diseases. The ship had burnt up while entering the planet's atmosphere, killing her parents in turn.
A year ago, she had performed the passage ritual, where she became a woman as well as a witch-healer. She was now able to easily attune to the force, and could use it when needed. A metal coil was now branded to her arm, a symbol of the power and compassion that she had lived in. Murash had not liked that particular ritual, but she respected Myjera's need to do it. She was a special girl, and she always had been. Wise beyond her years, yet completely innocent. So powerful, yet so vulnerable. Murash had vowed to always protect and watch over her as long as they both were alive.
She even amazed herself, sometimes. She could read people's thoughts when they opened their mind to them, and could connect with other force users with their permission. She had formed a close bond with Murash, and could communicate with her as long as she was within a kilometer. She had never tried to do so farther than that, but was fairly confidant she could do it even further away.
In addition, she had a great ability to heal. She could cure anything from psoriasis to pneumonia with a spell, salve, or simple touch of the hand. Even more amazingly, she could not only cure physical illness, but mental and emotional ailments as well. Sadness was eased with a prayer, and anxiety was soothed with a few spoken words.
Like all powers, however, her abilities came with great responsibilities. She often found herself reliving her patients' pains, both physically and emotionally. She wouldn't sleep well at night, often plagued by recurring nightmares of experiences not her own. Yet, she did what she knew she must. She had learned that she was constantly working toward a goal, and the pains she felt would fade with time. She knew of one of her destinies- to keep the knowledge of her ancestors going- but she often wondered about the "bigger picture". She has always had a distinct feeling that there was something more to her meaning in life. The precise definition was entirely unknown, but she had always been helped down a certain path.
One day I'll find out what my purpose truly is.
She stood and got the rest of the herbs she would need to add to the salve, stopping to admire the beautiful details on the bookcase. She touched the shelves lightly with her hands, as a flood of memories filled her mind.
Anakin made this for me, she remembered lovingly. He had been about 8 or so, and he had made it for her as a thank-you gift for taking care of him. His mother had heard of her gift when she was quite young, and had run to her for help when Anakin had taken ill. She was only 6 at the time, but she sensed that he was strong with the force, amazingly strong, and that he must be allowed to live. It had taken her three exhausting hours to cure him, but the foreign virus he had acquired from Watto's shop was efficiently driven away. Shmi and Anakin had stayed with Murash and Myjera for almost a week, and she had become good friends with him. She enjoyed their friendship, for she was often outcast by the other children for her beliefs and powers. Anakin had always stuck up for her, and she had even developed a childhood crush on him, although she never told him.
She was very sad when Shmi had informed her that he had left. Myjera had come to visit and congratulate him on winning the Boonta Eve race that she had heard about, but by that time he had already gone. She learned to accept his absence, however, and she always prayed for him to do well and be safe while he fulfilled his dreams. She was still close to Shmi, and was very happy that she was now freed and married. She was best friends with Beru Whitesun, and the two girls would laugh and spend time together as much as possible.
Anakin would be so happy to know that his mother is now living the life he had always wanted for her. I hope he is well…
She was disturbed by the sudden disturbances she felt when she thought of him.
Please let him be alright…I feel his…oh no…
Pain. It consumed her. She fought to get control of her emotions, but felt herself losing the same battle that Anakin was facing.
It only took a few minutes before she could hardly focus, and the dizziness intensified as she dropped to the floor.
Please, Ani, no… Please fight it!
She felt her strength drain from her limp body, as darkness clouded her vision. She laid herself out flat on the floor, hoping to somehow steady herself in the rage of emotions running through her. She started to sing a calming spell, her melodic voice hardly sounding through the immense sadness and anger. After awhile, the spell seemed to calm the rage somewhat, but she still felt the huge emptiness in her heart.
What has happened, Anakin? Why are these feelings being projected to me?
It suddenly ended. Myjera gasped for breath, exhausted from trying to help someone so far away.
But how could I even help him? I don't know how to heal over distance…He would have had to be close to me…
She couldn't think straight any longer, and she closed her eyes and laid still on the floor. She didn't open them again for another half of a day.