Heeeeey guys. So I think maybe this year I'll write another chapter to one of my fics. KIDDING KIDDING I'll write more, I promise. PROMISE. Until then, enjoy (or mock, or ridicule) this angsty Fem!Exile/Kavar oneshot that I wrote at like... 3 in the morning. Mmkay? Mmkay. Even if you don't like it, take it as my promise that I have not disappeared, and don't take it as an indicator of the quality of any upcoming fanfic chapters. Unless you do like it! In which case... I like you, too. :D

Defenseless

"You shouldn't be here."

Master Kavar had expected as cold a greeting from Katrina, but could never have been prepared for it. The former Jedi's tongue sounded like fire and ice right now, and Kavar knew better than to argue.

"Katrina."

"Get out of my room, Kavar."

She was rushing around, throwing everything she owned into bags and getting ready to leave the quarters that the Jedi Council had allowed her to stay in during her trial. Clearly, she had no qualms about tossing the room into as much added disarray as she could in the process. Kavar could feel her bitterness nearly strangling him even as he stood in the doorway. They might have cut Katrina off from the Force today, but she was hardly defenseless.

Defenseless. It was what she felt, Kavar was sure. Katrina had never been angry like this, for as long as he'd known her. Rebellious, belligerent, annoyed, as a student, but never angry. He was surprised she hadn't pushed him out the door with her bare hands.

A small lighting fixture flew past Kavar's head, and Katrina looked at him, ready to strike again.

"Leave now, Kavar."

Wet rivulets marked her cheeks, and she was shaking. It must be like withdrawal, Kavar thought, and his stomach sank as he thought about it more. To be raised learning how to live with the Force, and then having to start all over again... unthinkable.

Who were they to decide? Kavar remembered Katrina's face as she stood before the entire Council, her last defiance before they knocked her down for good. She had been proud of everything. Proud of the war, proud that she had returned, proud that she was no one's puppet, despite being at the mercy of the Council. Her eyes had challenged them more than words could have: How could the Council justify taking away everything they had thrust upon her from her infancy?

Kavar knew the rules, and in all his years, he had never questioned anything more than this.

He dodged another fixture as he stepped further into her room, and wondered how long it had been since Katrina had gone without a lightsaber at her side.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Katrina reached around for something else to throw, not taking her eyes off the Jedi Master as he approached.

"Katrina, I don't want today to end like this."

She shook her head, and the tears continued to flow. "What are you talking about, Kavar?"

"I can't... you can't leave here like this."

Her eyes widened. "Like this? In case you've forgotten, you did this to me, Kavar. You stood up with them and took away everything you gave me. Everything you didn't give me, everything the universe gave me, Kavar."

He wished she had just thrown another lamp.

"Katrina."

"I want it back."

He was silent. He was helpless.

"I know," she said. "You couldn't have done anything if you'd tried."

She continued to throw things into her bags.

"Kat."

"You could have helped us a long time ago, though. You could have come."

"You know that would have been impossible."

She stopped packing and stepped towards him, looking him in the eye. "You could have, Kavar."

Kavar stared down at the woman who stood not a foot away from him. She had never been a woman before. Before, it was always a student, a girl and her half-joking bravado. When she had stood before the Council not an hour earlier, she had been a soldier, responding to the call of duty, armed for anything.

Now, she stood, human. Full of hate and anger and no longer having to rein them in. It startled Kavar, and he found himself unable to speak his thoughts.

"I loved you, Kavar."

He'd always known. He loved her now.

"You were my friend. I learned everything from you, everything you took away back there."

He should have fought the Council. He was sorry, unbelievably sorry.

"Everyone else in my life is gone, Kavar. You don't come out of war unchanged. Every time I see another soldier, all I can see are the people who didn't come out at all, and it hurts."

It was going to be all right. They could get past this together, they could work through it, he would do anything.

"Say something," she whispered.

He leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers.

They stood, frozen for a moment until Kavar put his hands on Katrina's waist. He felt her hands on the back of his neck, and was startled by how cold they were.

Katrina drew her head back.

"Son of a schutta," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't believe this."

Before Kavar could speak, Katrina leaned in again, kissing him harder. Kavar could feel her tears on his own face.

She stepped back this time, and the look on her face faded from confusion to sorrow.

"This is it."

Kavar swallowed. "I think... it has to be."

Katrina nodded once. "You shouldn't be here."

Kavar nodded, but did not move. She stepped towards him again, her eyes still pinned to his.

"I hope you never forget me, Kavar. I hope you never forget tonight."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Katrina scowled. "You'll wish you could."

He knew she was right. He said nothing.

"Who knows," she said, turning back to her hasty packing, "maybe you'll see me again and you can just kill me right there instead of having to assemble the entire Council this time."

"Katrina—"

"Go, Kavar."

He waited.

"Katrina, I—we could—"

She snapped back around. "There is no 'we,' Kavar. Right now there's barely a 'me'."

The sadness in her eyes did not escape Kavar. He wiped Katrina's tears from his face onto the sleeve of his tunic.

"Now," she said, "go."

Finally, he did.

The door slammed shut behind him, and as Kavar walked away, he felt his own tears tracing over the lines that hers had left.

Now he was the one who felt defenseless.