Atton paced the room, as he had done hundreds of times before - this was his sanctuary, his domain, his workshop - yet this time, something was different. The woman he held captive was silent, her eyes trained on him, observing his every movement, there was no hatred, only peace. Usually capable of keeping his feelings hidden Atton's carefully constructed walls were beginning to crumble, the sequences of numbers slowed, he shot the woman a cautious glance, as if silently warning her not to attempt any subtle manipulations the Jedi were famed for - the gesture seemed to cause amusement rather than fear.
"They aren't coming for you, you know? This is what the Jedi do - abandon those relying on them." There was a certainty behind Atton's words, a lopsided grin that hid more pain than it expressed pleasure. He had seen it first hand during the Mandalorian wars and now again. This was a line he had used countless times, to gauge the mental state of his captives. The woman remained quiet for a moment, as if contemplating the weight of her jailer's words, and after a drawn out silence she spoke finally, for the first time in three days, "That's fine. I'm where I need to be." her voice was hoarse from thirst, yet her tone carried resoluteness, her eyes continued to follow Atton as he paced.
She wore the simple robes of her order, and there was no denying they had seen better days - torn and battered, like their owner, yet still managed to retain their vestige of strength and dignity. "You can already feel it. You can hear the faint whispers beyond the edge of reason - you're sensitive." The woman rose as she spoke, and moved as close as the charged bars of her cell would allow, Atton took a step back. "You don't know what you're talking about." He was defensive, quick to dismiss. "I do. We do. They will." The Jedi pressed the matter.
"Enough!" Atton was now chewing on the nail of a thumb as the Jedi's words sunk in, he stared across the silence at her – she stared back. "We know what they do here. What you've done here. To Jedi, to the Force sensitive." As with the rest of her words there was no malice behind them, only truth. Perhaps that's what had the male on edge – and unable to bear the woman's presence any further he stormed from the room, leaving her in darkness once more.
Light crept into the room as the heavy doors slid open, her jailer had returned, this time he looked markedly more on edge. It had been a week since their last get together. The Jedi looked up from her cell; even in the dimly lit room she could read the expression as he passed. Uncertainty, or perhaps realisation – it didn't matter. Atton fumbled in the dark, until his hands guided him to the cold surface of a stone table, his breathing was laboured. "You told them!" he accused without looking back. She didn't answer.
There was a static discharge as Atton snatched a vibro-knife from the table top. The blade glowed ominously as he turned and stalked toward the cell. The bars that had held her for so long fizzled before disappearing completely, yet still she sat. There was no grand movements, no overt mastery of the Force, no attempts to escape, just a tired woman.
Her body teetered as he grabbed a fistful of her clothing, drawing her from her seated position and up to her feet. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, the vibro-knife's blade teased at the flesh of the Jedi's neck. Her hands rose to cradle his face, the touch warm despite the chill of her palms, her thumbs caressed his cheeks and for what seemed an eternity she stared into his eyes. They were dark and tumultuous, and showed off a storm that raged deep within; in stark contrast to her own. Atton was a child. Confused and without direction.
"Jaq..." it was the first time she had spoken his name – something she had gleaned from the surface thoughts he had offered. Her words were followed by a warm laughter that radiated through the dark of the room and resonated deep within Atton's body. Even now he could feel no malice towards him. The Jedi rose onto the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the male's forehead. "I would never." She murmured, pressing forward, forcing his hand. The smell of burning became unbearable as the blade sunk deep into her. Even as the blood poured from her neck, and the life drained from her eyes she smiled, warm, and without judgement, full of love – unconditional. And as if a weight had been lifted, or the cornerstone of a dam had been removed; pent up feelings flooded him, his body felt numb, and his mind, for the first time unchained. In that moment he felt it, what she had known for a lifetime – warmth, security, a connection to something greater than himself – The Force, but more than that her Love. Atton cried, openly and unashamed.
That night he fled to Nar Shaddaa.