Title: Phases of Friendship

Summary: Mara has a moment of honesty. Vignette.

A/N: For Amsie. :)

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Phases of Friendship

It culminated in a sudden moment, but the act itself wasn't sudden. It had happened over time. I didn't see him as often, my life began to change as I grew to have a place in the galaxy – a secure place, with people who knew what I was and accepted it – and gradually, our tentative friendship simply lapsed.

It wasn't his fault. He tried to see me fairly often, usually to press me about becoming a Jedi. He was convinced I was meant to be one. He still is convinced, I'm sure. Regardless, our paths didn't often cross; he is a Jedi, and I'm not. We aren't family. Leia and Solo are still a little twitchy around me, and that doesn't help either. Both Luke and I are busy people, and those other things drew more and more of our attention over time. After a while, I would only see him every few years.

He changed during those years. He was always calm, but it only seemed to increase as time went on. He withdrew and became less emotional, less demonstrative. I didn't see him smile very often, though he always seemed to have one for his sister. Her children delighted him – I saw him with them, and I saw his happiness, as well as his regret.

I changed, too. I'll never be anything less than abrasive, at least part of the time, but I learned that anger – and snapping at friends – is ultimately something that would cost me. Threats, gifts, and cold calculation were the ways Palpatine may have dealt with me, but I realized that should not determine how I interact with others. I think the time that Luke realized that I had changed as well was after Callista left. I went to see him, as part of a run that Karrde had me on. Yavin IV wasn't far out of my schedule, and I had myself left a few days of leeway when I planned it.

He was surprised that I tried to comfort him. I surprised myself a bit as well, mostly because of how obviously I went about it. I had intended on distracting on him from his deep loss, but I didn't intend on getting him to talk about her. I found out, though, that he really did love her, and she had loved him. She had simply made the decision to halt the relationship for the both of them; I think that's where she went wrong. It was a choice they both should have made. I thought that – definitely didn't say it – but I think Luke knew anyway. He has that habit.

It was two years after that that we had our fight. I'm not too ashamed to admit that I started it – I usually do – but how big the fight became was definitely partly his fault. I'm not even sure exactly when the fight began. We were talking about my training, as I recall, but we drifted into other subjects as well. I remember that I silently agreed that my Force skills weren't the best, but I wasn't willing to admit that I needed to learn, or that I needed training to learn. I think he found that exasperating.

Our discussion became an argument, and then a fight. His voice got low and super-controlled, which I knew without question meant he was angry; I have a talent for making Skywalker angry, no question about that. I blew up at him and stalked out, which wasn't the smartest thing to do. He didn't follow. I didn't realize it at the time – not until the anger drained away – but that hurt.

And now . . . here I sit, ten months later. We still haven't spoken, but where before it was a sort of easy silence, I can practically feel the resentment still between us. It's ridiculous, since I know I can't sense his emotions from halfway across the galaxy, but the nagging feeling of it won't go away. It's distant, but always there.

I'm wondering whether I should let it go. Our friendship was already strained by lack of communication, mostly due to lack of time, lack of our schedules coinciding. I have seen many great friends, and for many of them, those great friendships they thought would last didn't last. They had fun, they drifted apart, and ended the friendship amicably and quietly. They changed, like Luke and I have changed, and they moved on.

But there are those other friendships that I've seen, too. Friendships that last for forty years, through adolescence to adulthood to war and life and death, at the end. They said their friendships would last and they did. What made those friendships different? They went so many different phases in their lives, and yet, they stuck together. It is a baffling thing for me. How do you know when a friendship is true? For that matter, were those friendships that didn't last not true because they did not last?

I don't think so. I'm not sure, but I think those friendships were real. They were real for that time, however long it was. And yet, then, what is the difference between those friendships and the ones that last forever?

I wonder all this because I wonder which category Luke and I fall into. Our friendship was real, but was it meant to last?

Perhaps it is something else that makes friendship last. Maybe it isn't fate or destiny or the will of the Force, maybe it's something a lot simpler. Ordinary people manage it all the time.

It hits me like a stun grenade; it's choice. Those lasting friendships, well, they chose to last. Those two people – or however many – made a decision to stay friends through fights and disagreements, and maybe even hate sometimes. They stuck it out; they made a decision to stick it out. And not only to stick it out, I'm realizing, but something else, too. They made a decision to compromise, to forgive, and most importantly, to change together.

I love Luke. I know that. I'm not sure what kind of love it is, yet, but I do love him. This concern for him, for his life and the way he leads it, is beyond how his life affects mine. I feel something precious in that. I could let this friendship go and still love him. But do I have to?

I can only make one half of the decision. I hope Luke makes the other in line with mine.

I go to the comm and begin to write.

[fin]