Disclaimer: I still don't own KotOR 2. Nor do I own Disciple.

Author's Note: I guess this is becoming a series of one-shots that I'll later (much later) turn into a full length story. Disciple is not a good-looking as Atton, but he's pushing a VERY close second. I liked how this "written in two minutes" one-shot turned out. Disciple is so innocent and good-hearted, but it's obvious he has feelings for the Exile, however he won't tell her because that's the last thing she needs to hear. The Exile has too much on her plate and besides, Atton's in love with her. Poor Disciple.

Raven "Siren's Muse"

Cold. So cold. Frozen. Like the empty, black void outside the ship. Niamh was curled in a tight ball in the middle of her bunk; her eyes were squeezed shut with tears that ran down her pale skin and gathered at the crease in her down-turned lips. She was a Jedi, this wasn't supposed to happen! And yet, here she was, crying over things long past…haunted by age old memories that she wasn't supposed to have.

That's how Disciple found her. It was unnerving to find his Jedi Master--the woman he practically idolized, adored, and truly loved in his own innocent way—broken under the weight of some tragedy. Quietly he slipped into the room and stood there for the briefest of moments, just looking down at her, watching her perfect strength vanish and yet still remain. He knelt down and hesitantly brushed a tear from the corner of her lips. "Niamh?" he questioned softly.

The exiled Jedi opened her eyes and gazed up at him. There was pain written in her crystalline red rimmed grey eyes. Pain and slight horror at someone seeing her so broken.

Disciple frowned and sat next to her on the bunk. He wanted to do something…but he had no idea what. He wanted to know why she cried, why there was such hurt in her eyes, but that was not a good question at the moment. She needed understanding, not advice.

Niamh sniffled a bit as she sat up, her short black hair was sticking up in all directions, but neither cared. Without warning she grabbed Disciple and started sobbing into his chest. The man was startled, but quickly wrapped his arms about her and buried his face in her hair. She clung to him as if he was a life-raft amidst the chaotic sea. Clung to him and sobbed brokenly. He felt her tremble as if her soul was being crushed, her heart torn into pieces. She could no longer hold back her pain and it echoed through the force. So he blocked it for her. There was no need to disturb the others. Her pain filled his being, however, echoing with voices of the dying, betrayal, loss of the force, condemnation…hatred. She would hyperventilate soon if she did not quiet her sobs down. "Shh…breathe, Niamh. Please breathe."

His breathing slowed down automatically as if to show her the proper speed. She quieted into small sobs. After a moment, he lifted her head and wiped the tears away carefully. "Niamh, through the force, you feel as if you're dying." He whispered.

"I am." she was barely able to say. "I am a wound in the force. A poison to it. I should die."

"No." he insisted, pushing the hair from her eyes and forcing her to look up at him. "No wound in the force could be as kind and gentle as you. So perfect, even in your sadness."

She shook her head, protesting. "I can't do this. I belong back in exile."
"No, you belong her--with us. With me."

She buried her head in his shoulder and clung to him again. "I need you." She whispered. "I can't do it anymore."

"Then I shall be here for you."

She turned her face, her lips touched his neck, and Disciple found his face feeling quite warm and probably quite red. "Thank you." She murmured into his neck.

Disciple swallowed shakily. "Indeed." He muttered.

Niamh lifted her head again to look up at him. "I'm sorry."

Embarrassment flooded away into concern. "Please don't be. You are human; you have every right to hurt."

"But I'm a Jedi."

On impulse, he laid a small kiss upon her forehead. "And still human."

She closed her eyes and nodded. "If only the Jedi council could understand that."

"I am sure they do."

"You've never been there." She remarked, a small smile touching her face for the barest of seconds.

She sighed. "I suppose we're nearly there."

"I was coming to tell you that." Disciple confirmed with a nod.

They both stood and gazed at each other for a moment. Disciple reached out and brushed the few stray tears from her cheeks and let his hand remain against her cheek. "Do not suffer alone. There's no need to."

She nodded slowly.

Disciple found himself moving closer to the woman. His other arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned down felt her breath caress his lips. "I am always here." He whispered before stepping away.

A smile graced those perfect lips of hers and he wondered what they would have tasted like. He sighed and turned to follow her out of the room.