Beautiful, a star wars fanfic

Title: Beautiful

Author: Quigonjecca

Genre: Songfic, vignette

Summary: Order 66 through the eyes of its closest observer

[B]Author notes: Hey everyone… I've been gone for about a year. But I miss this place way too much. So this is my first attempt at some fiction and (hopefully) improved writing skills. Comments are greatly appreciated, but most of all, I just want everyone to enjoy. :D[/b]

***

I've always thought that souls look vaguely like steam, rising from a kettle on a cool, autumn afternoon. They waft around the rafters, peeking in and out between the kitchen nooks, twisting like little dancers before landing on my shoulders and nuzzling their noses into my neck.

Souls—fresh souls, at least—are also [i]warm[/i] like steam. Not the sticky warmth of blood, or the comforting skin-warm of a living being. It's more of a prickly heat; sandy, and course. The longer they stay that way, the softer they get, until the sand turns into the ocean, and I carry them out with the tide.

You'd think that in a galaxy as wide as our own, there would be more than one Reaper… but I am the only one.

Most days are fairly quiet. Billions, trillions… I've tried to teach myself not to show favoritism, but I have to say that the more exciting lives do get priority. It only takes a few seconds for each; a quick unzipping of the skin, and, occasionally, a net if they were wont to take liberties. But I always get them cozy in my satchel after a while, and then I make my deliveries.

I tend to see the space and time as an every flowing river of light. It's a sky, dotted with trillions upon trillions of tiny, twinkling stars. There is always the North Star to guide us home, and there is the sun, keeping everything warm. And, as the dimness of death looms in the eyes of the shining, I steal quietly to their bedsides—or to their flaming cockpits, or between their eyes as the blaster shatters their skull or wherever else they may be—and pull out my little golden net.

[i]Every day is so wonderful

And suddenly, it's hard to breathe

Now and then I get insecure

From all the pain, I'm so ashamed[/i]

But this day is dark, and the river is chilled by a strange, gooseflesh breeze. Today, someone has done something that will forever taint their soul. Today, I saw innocence—I saw nobility—and I watched it fade away.

I almost passed him by. He wasn't very old, or very interesting, but his last breaths tasted of honey, and that was enough to make me stop; that, and his wide, black eyes were staring at me with such vacancy, that I thought he was able to see my face.

The tiny Zabrak was gasping, taking great, shuddering breaths. His tiny eyes squeezed shut, trying to imprison his tears. Jedi. They tell you not to show weakness, I've heard. But this was just a boy.

I wished I could speak to him—to tell him that everything will be alright. There is no shame in death, I longed to say. Now, let me closer, and then you can fall asleep in the crook of my elbow like you did when you were a crèchling.

Eventually, he did. The tears stopped; his tiny chest stopped taking indignant puffs of air, and he crawled into my lap.

And then I moved to the next one, this one, a little girl.

[i]I am beautiful, no matter what they say

Words can't bring me down, oh no

I am beautiful, in every single way

No, words can't bring me down, oh no

So don't you bring me down today.[/i]

Each soul was so light, I could barely feel it. Some were inquisitive, wide-eyed and rodent. They want to know why, and they ask you questions. Others, like these, were tired, and they just folded into themselves and waited to go Home.

Outside the Council chambers, two were waiting for me. These two had already undone themselves, and were sitting atop their corpses like patient children. They didn't wish to be carried, so I let them walk beside me, silent shadows in the smoke of night, for by now, night had fallen over the Coruscant skyline, and the smoke was so heavy, I had to blow my way through it.

Together, we made our way through the walls of the Chambers. Inside, I found a handful of Little Ones huddled around one chair. They were smiling, and they held out their pudgy arms towards the Older Ones. There, there, I comforted. But it wasn't needed. They found their home.

Oh, how nice it was to be able to watch for once. So simple; so naïve and beautiful. Death knows no maturity. It visits those who have aged and wizened, just as it does those who haven't left the womb.

It was that subtle transition, as they rose, and realized they weren't trapped by skin, muscle and bones. They were free. And then, they came back and stood by me. One of the Older Ones opened his eyes and blinked. Where are we going now?

[i]To all your friends, you're delirious

So consumed in all your doom

Trying hard to fill the emptiness

The piece is gone, left the puzzle undone

Is that the way it is?[/i]

Our next stop was a lush planet far, far away from that burning carcass. We all looked back and watched Peace turn to ashes and dust. We knew it would rise again, but it was still rather melancholy.

On our way, the Souls explained to me that the Jedi had been expecting something like this for a while, but they had been unable to see. "Now," one said, eyes clear and round and gold. She cocked her head to one side. "Now I can see again. Now I see why things didn't fit together."

They chattered until the air thrummed around us, ageless and without qualm. And, as we skimmed across the planet surface they began to point. I was surprised that they could see through the foliage, and catch glimpses of the hungry, blinking lights of Beyond. I wanted to shield them—to protect their tender eyes from the carnage.

But as we traveled, I began to realize that they could only see what they wanted to see. Their eyes saw only the smiling souls of their peers and elders, peeking up from the twisted trees, or the bottom of rivers, or the crater that a detonator left behind. They reached out with open hands, and joined each other in a Force embrace.

I should bring them along more often.

Some of the older ones weren't as trusting as their younger counterparts. With children hanging off their necks, and around their ankles, they'd look at me with hollow, knowing eyes. They asked questions with those eyes, [i]what did I miss? How did this happen? I could have prevented this.[/i] And I tried to quiet them with a friendly smile. But death does not smile; he grimaces. I turned my face away.

[i]You are beautiful, no matter what they say

Words can't bring you down

You are beautiful, in every single way

No, words can't bring you down, oh no

So don't you bring me down today.[/i]

Some were broken. Some were burned. Some were so full of water that they were close to bursting. Some were painted with bright, swaths of sticky red, and had eyes that glossed and lolled back into their skulls.

These were the ones that had been caught off guard; they were not waiting. It took a while for me to net their souls. Then, and only then, after they were safe in the arms of another, did they begin to wake, softly and surprised. One dug her fingers into my neck, afraid that she would fall, and her hot tears dripped down my skin.

The children placed their hands on her back, feeling her hitched breath through her spine. "It's okay," one said. "We're all okay. We're all together now. Don't be frightened."

And, I suppose that is the beauty of death. Because this woman knew those words to be true, she wiped her eyes, and slid out of my arms. She kissed the child's forehead before joining hands, and walking by my side. Behind us, their footprints streamed through the air, a larger pair, and the smaller pair beside.

[i]No matter what we do

No matter what we do

No matter what we say

We're the song inside the tune

Full of beautiful mistakes

And everywhere we go

The sun will always shine

Sun will always, always shine[/i]

We traversed to the furthest corners of the galaxy that day. Jedi, upon Jedi joined us in what became a victory march. They would not be quelled—they would not be silenced. The chorus of footsteps rang through the Force, definitive. They would not give up. This was only another step in what would soon become.

If we had all joined hands and stretched out, we would have rimmed Naboo more than once. I thought about trying it, but some of the younger ones—the first ones—were getting tired. If the populace had been able to see us, we would have looked like a ring of light, engulfing their planet in a warm embrace; hotter than the sun, and brighter than the stars.

It was almost like a song: thousands upon thousands of voices, exclaiming, and crying out to those whom they thought had been lost, but had been found. Thousands upon thousands of heartbeats, thumping in time to their own footsteps. They whispered; they shouted; they embraced. Here, they could be free. Here, they would be free.

And they knew that they were leaving oppression behind and that someday, the shroud of darkness deepening below us would be torn—lifted—and scattered into the wind. Mistakes would be mistakes; victory would be victory. And somehow, they knew that their lives had been both.

[i]'Cause we are beautiful no matter what they say

Yes, words won't bring us down, oh no

We are beautiful in every single way

Yes, words can't bring us down, oh no

So don't you bring me down today[/i]

I felt lighter than I had in ages. The more that joined us, the happier I became. Death is rarely a happy thing, and elation is even rarer. But they lifted me up. Every man, woman and child; they were light, and free, and playful.

And it was beautiful, because they were all together. The Jedi, who had vowed to serve the Force, were finally going to become part of the Force.

The gates of Beyond loomed closer. They became excited—agitated, almost—twisting and pushing to get ahead. The canvas of war stretched blow us, over the planets and galaxies and stars, and we peeled off. It was another dimension—another space and time—where everything stopped, and bated breath whispered in everyone's ears.

I smiled. Or tried to, at least.

And then came the embrace; hot like lightening, and soothing like a child's blanket. It beckoned to them. [i]Come, come, my children. Come Home.[/i]

So they began to race, faster and faster, and I let them go. The child I was holding kissed my cheek before jumping to the ground.

That's more of a thank you than I've ever gotten since.

But I don't expect thanks. I am Death. You fear me, and you avoid me. You run from me in terror, and when you feel yourself slipping, you grope for light, because you expect me to be darkness.

But is death dark? Is death treacherous?

No. Death is [i]beautiful.[/i]

[i]So don't you bring me down… today.[/i]

[b]Thanks everyone for reading![/b]