Now she sat on a street corner, nowhere to go, and all alone. And that is where she met him. A man in dark jedi robes, a lightsaber hanging from his belt, mechanical limbs lacking any of the usual stiffness associated with the technology that if she hadn't been who she was, she wouldn't have realized he had them. A man with ebony hair and deep blue eyes, who moved so smoothly through the crowd, he could've been a shadow, and in fact, given how little the crowd payed attention to him, he might as well have been one; a hard task for a man as tall and big as he was that he loomed over many of the more humanoid species in the crowd he passed through.
Still, Cassandra wasn't scared. This man wasn't her father, and he certainly wasn't anyone who would work with her father. Despite the man's intimidating stature, he read like someone protecting people, kind hearted, and strong. And sad. The man was very very sad. She didn't know why, but, in that moment, she didn't really care either. She knew none of the men who worked with her father could ever read like that, and so she ignored his presence, just like she ignored all the others, and how all the others ignored her.
But the force had other plans, and nudged the man in jedi robes, just enough to make him look, just enough for him to take notice, and after he did, the force needed to take no further action. The man glided over, and crouched down in front of her; this small girl in a stained, red dress, with great big flowers all over it, arms hugging her legs to her chest, and staring at nothing, with big, empty, brown eyes. The rain mixed with her tears, and drenched choppy hair, cut to her shoulders, fell into her eyes.
She paid no attention to his kind, calm tone, issuing from a baritone, if mechanical voice. Paid no attention as he read more and more concerned. Even as he raised his hand to her shoulder.
No, it wasn't till his hand was laid big and warm against her skin still cold and wet from the rain, that she took notice. And when she did, her hand found a grouping a nerves where his arm was still flesh in a split second, numbing the man's arm and causing it to fall limply to his side. The man startled, but only leaned back slightly. She read no fear from him, simply caution, concern, and curiosity, and that gained her attention. The last man to approach her ran away when she did that, (but he read of greed, lust, filth. If her mind had been there fully, and she had known the word, 'disgust' would be the only the thing she thought of him). This one was different.
The man in front of her spoke, in basic and in body, and though she couldn't understand his words, his body spoke of calm, peace, and concern. No threat, no fear, no harm. He spoke of safety. She didn't understand his words, but she knew his message, and she allowed herself to relax the little amount her training allowed her.
The man again started to ask her questions, thinking her recently gained attention would help him gain their answers, but she couldn't answer them for the words were unknown to her, and so she could only shake her head. Cassandra knew so very few words, but there was at least one she did, and when a lull came in the man's questions, she cocked her head and pointed a finger at him and asked,
"Who?"
The man understood now the reason for her silence, and sympathy and apologies rose from his very skin. The man drew up a mechanical hand, pointed to himself, and with carefully enunciated words said,
"Bruce Wayne, Jedi Master."
She tried to repeat his strange sounds, her mouth caught in unfamiliar motions.
"Buuce Way-n, Jedie Maastt-r?"
The man nodded, and gave her a warm smile, and though she was pretty sure she hadn't said it right, she was happy to have satisfied him with her words. Her father had never been the same. Anything less than perfect only resulted in pain and disappointment.
Then the man returned her question, and for a second, she didn't know how to answer. Who was she? Her father didn't call her by name much anymore, now it was only with body. What was it he had called her?
"Cass-sand-dra Cain. Cass."
"Cassandra?" The man asked, and she gave a nod, and then shook her head.
"Cassandra, yes, no. Cass."
"Cass?" The man tried again, and this time she nodded and smiled.
"Cass." The man smiled back, a gesture forged in kindness and tempered by sadness, before a contemplative look came over him, and she watched him as he thought. A minute passed, and then it seemed the man came to a decision, a new smile greeting his face, a welcoming one full of the kindness she had seen through his body. The man stood and held out a hand to her.
"Come?" He asked, a question she knew for once wasn't an order, one she knew offered only safety and comfort. And yet, she still hesitated, for she knew nothing of this man, knew nothing of where she'd be going, and though it would most likely be better than the streets she had so recently found herself on, she at least knew and understood the streets. This was an unknown to her. And so she hesitated, unsure of how to answer, knowing many things would change if she took his hand.
But then, something nudged her senses, just like it had the man in front of her, bringing this girl to his attention, and now it showed her how right this offer felt.
And so she reached out,
and took his hand.
