Disclaimer: No, I don't own KotoR. Don't sue me (not that I'd have much to give you anyway).
4. Burned
Bastila stepped quietly into Malak's room. It was late. So late, it was early. It was also dark, but she had snuck into this room so many times before that she knew it by heart. She strode the few steps to the bed and lay there. A moment later the mattress shifted. Malak's arms surrounded her and pulled her in to the one place she felt truly safe.
"I almost thought you weren't going to come," he whispered into her hair.
"Yuthura was still awake and I couldn't sneak out," she explained. Luckily, her roommate was a heavy sleeper and a late riser.
"All these secrets," Malak scoffed. "We shouldn't have to hide. The Council's got it all wrong. Feelings aren't mistakes. Without them, we'd just be a bunch of droids."
"The Masters are wiser than we are. Maybe..."
"Maybe what? Are you saying that you regret being with me? That you don't love me?" His voice was rough. Accusing. And because Bastila found it insulting, she matched her tone to his.
"No! Don't be ridiculous. Why would you even say that?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing. You have doubts about our relationship. About us."
"Everyone has doubts sometimes, but that doesn't mean that's all they feel. I want to be with you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here right now."
"Then don't be, if you don't want to."
Bastila bit back a heated retort. It was no good arguing with Malak; he would never end the dispute on his own. Force, he could be like a child sometimes. But she didn't want them to fall asleep angry at each other.
"Don't be mad," she soothed. "I love you. Nothing will change that. Not even the Council."
And to seal the argument, she kissed him. He responded in kind, telling her that all was forgiven. But they didn't stop there. Bastila could taste the passion in his lips, edged with a forceful hunger. Malak moved down to her throat and pulled at her clothes so fast they tore before he could get them off properly.
"Slow down," she gasped, but he crushed her protests with his mouth.
Just as he reached the shirt she had on underneath her robe, Bastila heard footsteps in the hallway outside the room. They stopped so soon afterwards that she wasn't sure if she had imagined it.
"Stop. There's someone outside."
"No," he growled back. "I'm sick of having to restrain myself every time you think you hear a noise outside the door. I'm sick of hiding. I want you. Right now."
"Stop," she repeated, but Malak wouldn't listen. "Stop!"
She tried to push him away and when that didn't work, she used the help of the Force. Unfortunately, she overcompensated and ended up dumping her lover off the bed.
He stood up, struggling with the sheets. His face was livid. "What in the Force is wrong with you?" he shouted.
"Shh...someone will hear us."
"I don't care! The whole Jedi Enclave can hear us! Why would you just push me off the bed like that?"
"Because it's the only way you'll listen to me!"
"Listen to what? Isn't this what you want? Am I not what you want?"
"Yes, but I don't want to have sex. Not today. Please."
"Why not? You love me, don't you?"
"Right, because I'd do it if I love you. Don't insult my intelligence; only weak, naive housewives fall for that trick," she said acidly. "So you'll excuse me if I think love is more than just giving in to your raging hormones every time you feel like it."
They glared at each other. Bastila refused to look away. She would not be made to be the guilty party.
"Get out," he said tersely.
"What?"
"Get out. I don't want to see you."
"Fine," she answered fiercely. Pulling her robes back on, she stormed out of the room without a backwards glance, nearly stepping right into Vrook.
The two faced each other for a long moment. She stared into his impassive stare and swallowed hard. The footsteps must have belonged to him. How much had the Jedi Master heard?
"Master Vrook," she said curtly. Without meeting his eyes, she hurried away.
She returned to her own room and lay on her bed listening to Yuthura's light snores. Bastila envied her for being able to sleep so peacefully. No complicated relationship problems to keep her awake. It was the first night that the human Jedi could remember spending without Malak. And although her roommate was in the same room, she had never felt more alone.
When Bastila finally fell asleep, it wasn't for long. She woke up earlier than she usually did and found herself walking to Malak's room, hoping he wasn't still angry. But when she got there, she found the place empty. Of course. Malak was outside the Academy on his usual run before breakfast. The morning seemed to drag on forever without him. She spent it wandering aimlessly around the halls until she saw Master Vrook and stopped dead in her tracks.
She stood still, wondering if it was too late to turn and pretend she hadn't noticed him.
"Padawan Bastila."
"Yes, Master Vrook?"
Was it her imagination, or did his eyes seem more searching, more suspicious than they usually did? Panicked, her mind ran through a hundred explanations for why she had been in Malak's room after hours, each more farfetched than the last.
"Could you inform Padawan Revan that the Council wishes to speak with him?"
She blinked and tried not to look surprised. "Of course, Master. When is the meeting?"
"As soon as he can get to the Council Chamber."
"Yes, Master Vrook. I'll tell him right away."
Her instincts told her not to leave herself defenceless to his glare, but Bastila managed to turn around stiffly and start walking. It didn't take her more than a few steps to realize that she was going the wrong way. Smiling sheepishly, she walked past Vrook in the opposite direction. Vrook did not smile back.
* * *
Revan was floating somewhere between sleeping and dreaming.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead."
He recognized the voice and smiled. Bastila.
"Wake up." And he did.
He opened his eyes and saw pools of liquid silver. The warmth and light of the Sun – reflected a thousand times over in her eyes – pierced straight through to his heart. Basking in its glow felt like watching a sunrise without any sunsets to follow. The rest of the world could perish for all he cared; the light alone was enough to live for.
The grey eyes looked confused. "What are you staring at?"
"You," he said simply, but he instantly wished he hadn't. The silence between them became awkward. Revan looked around. "Hey, where's Malak?"
Bastila seemed slightly relieved. "He's out running. You should get up. The Council wants a word with you."
Revan groaned. The sunlight streaming through the window was weak and the shadows in the room were tall. Early morning sunlight. Damn. He'd been hoping to sleep until the afternoon. But he couldn't exactly say no to the Jedi Council; the Masters were patient, but he doubted they'd wait that long.
He rolled out of bed and tried, for the second morning in a row, to look presentable. As he stood in front of the mirror, he wondered what the Council could want with him. It must have been something important. It wasn't rare for a Master to speak with a student, but the entire Council at once...
His first thought was that they wanted to punish him. Revan had heard stories of exile and even severing one's ties with the Force. It took him a moment to realize how irrational his fears were; those kinds of punishments were reserved for the worst of the Sith. For extreme cases. But his mind flashed back to Vrook's face at the end of the class. Behind the barely suppressed rage was an expression Revan hadn't noticed. The Master Jedi had looked deeply...unsettled.
Coming out of the fresher, he was surprised to see Bastila still perched on the edge of his bed.
He took in her pursed lips. "Is something wrong?"
"Malak and I had a fight," she said quietly.
Revan sat down next to her. "What about?"
"About...keeping secrets and...other things." She blushed towards the end. He decided he didn't want to know.
"You know Malak better than anyone: he can be a little hard-headed at times. Okay, maybe very hard-headed."
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, then disappeared. "You weren't there, Revan. The way we were shouting – I thought we'd woken up the entire Enclave. And the way I felt...like everything was hopeless. Beyond repair."
"Well maybe you should take a break from each other for a while. See how things are and then go from there."
"Okay." Bastila blinked in surprise. He knew what she had expected him to say: that everything would be alright. That Malak was just throwing a tantrum. But as much as he knew he should, Revan's throat tightened around the words. Selfish, he chided himself. But he wasn't listening.
"Don't worry. Everything will be okay." Tentatively, he placed his hand on her wrist. Placing it on her hand would be admitting something to himself – and maybe to her. If he placed it on her hand, he'd never let go. He loved the feel of her skin on his, but he hated the means he used. You're a monster, he told himself. Using any excuse you can get your hands on. Betraying your best friend to be with her.
"Thanks for the advice, Rev."
Revan's answering smile pained him. "It was nothing."
He stood to leave, thinking he couldn't bare another moment in her company like this, so close to her but still so far.
"Revan?"
He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. "Yes?"
"Why does the Council want to see you?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
Bastila said uneasily, "Vrook saw me leaving Malak's room. I don't know how much he heard of our shouting match. You've been such a good friend," she continued, "keeping our relationship a secret even though you'd get in trouble too."
"You think they want to talk to me about you and Malak."
She nodded. "I feel stupid and horrible for even asking. But you won't tell them will you?"
"Never."
It was strange, how easily her expression changed from anxious to content with a single word.
"Bye, Revan."
"Bye." He paused at the door and made up his mind. He couldn't stand it anymore; he would ask Bastila if she loved him. Today. "By the way, don't I owe you a cup of caf?"
Her lips were pursed again, this time in thought. "Two actually: one for the duel and one for helping you with the training computer. But you can start with one." She grinned.
Revan opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "Two cups it is then."
* * *
The Council chamber was a giant, circular room made of stone and with no roof. It wasn't often used; the Masters were usually either teaching classes, meditating in their rooms or offworld on various missions. The chamber was reserved for ceremonies or, as was Revan's case, private meetings. The Jedi Masters stood around the edge of the circle, ready to receive him.
They were in the midst of a heated discussion, but stopped as soon as Revan was within earshot.
"Padawan Revan," Vandar greeted.
"Masters." His gaze swept over them all. Vandar with his skin as creased as old parchment; Dorak, whose stories had hypnotized Revan as a child; and Vrook, whose features were set in a permanent scowl.
"You are an exceptional student. You have great skill with a lightsaber and a fascinating talent with the Force."
"Thank you, Master." From the corner of his eye, Revan saw the corner of Vrook's lips twitch.
"But do not forget that your excellence has been earned through hard work. You have done well so far and, if you remain focused, you still have a ways to go."
"Yes, Master."
"That being said, we have decided to send you to Coruscant for additional training."
"Really?" Revan's fatigue vanished. He felt invigorated. This was even better than he had dared hope for. Than he had dared imagine. A privilege. He was going to Coruscant. His mind filled with images of bright, colourful lights and more species than he knew the names of. And all the extra skills he would learn...
"Indeed," Dorak said with a small smile. "I have an old friend there: Master Zhar. I think you two will get along very well.
"Before you get too excited," Vrook said, "you should know that you may only take one of your friends with you."
The Master's words deflated his good mood. The joy drained from his face. Revan hadn't even thought of that. He'd taken for granted that he, Bastila and Malak would always face everything together. Inseparable.
"How long until I can come back? A few weeks? A month?"
"No," Vandar answered. "It may be years before you return. Choose wisely."
Revan inhaled sharply. Years. "In that case, I don't think I can go."
Vandar stared, surprised. "I know that it is difficult to be away from those you care for. But a Jedi sent to other worlds – more often than not – travels alone. And this is a great opportunity. Sure, are you, that you want to pass it up?"
"I..." Bastila. Malak. He couldn't just leave one of them behind...could he?
"Perhaps you need a little more time," Dorak suggested gently. "The shuttle leaves tonight. That should be enough to pack what you need and say your goodbyes. If you should decide that you want to go."
"Yes, Master. Thank you."
Stiffly, he walked away with his mind reeling. Today was feeling more and more like a dream.
* * *
"A cup of caf for the lady," Revan said as he offered her a steaming cup.
"Thanks." Bastila accepted it with a smile.
The two walked together to the courtyard of the Enclave, eager to escape the prying eyes and ears of Jedi in the mess hall. A massive tree grew on an island of grass beneath a cloudless sky.
It was a reminder of the nature of the Force: from the thickest bough to the tiniest leaf, all things were interconnected; one just had to think of the bigger picture.
With a sigh, Bastila sat down on the grass and Revan took a seat beside her.
A talk over caf. No Dantooine, no Jedi training, just caf and a girl. Revan could almost pretend they were a normal couple out on a normal date. Bastila drank her caf quietly. Revan blew on his cautiously and waited for it to cool. This had gone so perfectly in his mind: an earnest confession, an "I love you too" and then falling asleep in each other's arms. But his plan was not translating well into real life.
"So what was your meeting with the Council about?" She asked. "Or am I not allowed to know?"
"It was about a trip to Coruscant for additional training."
"That's great, Rev! It's what you always wanted. I'm happy for you." She beamed.
He shook his head. "I'm not going."
"Why not?"
"Because out of Malak and you, I can only pick one to go with me. And I don't want to have to choose between you two."
Revan would like nothing more than to spend time with Bastila where they could be alone together, but the memory of the awkwardness that morning still lingered. What if she didn't return his love? He'd have to look her in the eye every day for years.
But bringing Malak would be no less problematic. Either he would resent Revan for loving Bastila or resent him for stealing her from him.
There was no way to win without losing.
Bastila was quiet for a moment. "Take Malak with you. I know how much you want it and I know that Malak wants it too. He always complained about never getting to travel offworld."
"But won't you miss him?"
"Yes. But you don't have to punish yourself for us. I don't even know if..." Her voice trailed off and she frowned sadly.
"So things aren't going well with him."
She pursed her lips again. Not a good sign. For Malak, at least. "I looked for him during your meeting, but I couldn't find him. I think he's avoiding me."
"Give it some time. You never know what could happen."
Bastila laughed. "Like what, Revan? There's only two possibilities: either we're still together after all of this, or we're not."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"What?"
He needed to force the issue instead of dancing around the subject. No more vague allusions in the hopes that she would answer his question without having to be asked. This time he would actually tell her how he felt.
"Revan, I don't know what you're talking about anymore."
"Bastila, if you never listen to me again in your life, listen to what I'm saying now.
"From the moment I felt it, I've wanted to tell you. You were wearing robes that were too big for you because, with all the new Padawans coming in, they didn't have your size. You stood next to a window with your shoulders stooped because you were tired. Your hair was brown and in a messy ponytail. Gold, where the sunlight touched it. You missed your father. I told you that it was alright, that you'd see him some day, even if it wasn't soon. I told you that I could be your brother until then. We could do all sorts of things together. We'd have so much fun.
"And you smiled at me. That moment – that exact moment – was when I felt it. You were ten and I was eleven. Kids. I didn't know what to call it then, I didn't even know what it really was. But I know what it is now. Love. I love you, Bastila Shan."
In his imagination, Revan had stared straight into her eyes. But in this moment, he couldn't look.
"Oh, Revan."
It was a sigh and one he had dreamed of hearing. But it was not said the way he had dreamed.
"When we were children, you said you would be my brother. And after that moment, that was how I always thought of you: as a brother. I don't love you, not like that. I'm so sorry."
"We don't have to be brother and sister." Revan hated how desperate he sounded.
"No. I can't. I just don't love you that way."
"You love Malak that way."
"Yes," she admitted, staring into her cup as if the right words to say were in there.
"Why? Is it because you think he loves you more? I don't know how much he loves you, but I know how much I love you. I'd always treat you right. I'd never pressure you to –"
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"I can't explain it. It's the way he talks, the things he says, the way he acts..."
"You hate me."
Her eyes widened in shock. "Don't say that! I don't hate you. I just don't love you the way you want me to."
To Revan, they were the same thing.
She knew, he thought wildly. In a better state of mind, he might have realized how outrageous this was. But his heart was broken and his mind was frantically trying to put it back together.
Bastila had known all along, he thought. He imagined her and Malak in bed together, laughing at his misfortune to love a girl who was already in love with another. His face burned in humiliation.
"I'm sorry," she said again, but he wasn't listening.
Instead, he thought of Malak with a sudden, spiteful jealousy. What made him so much more deserving? Revan made a snap decision.
"I'm going to go to Coruscant," he said firmly. "And I'm going to take Malak with me."
She saw the motive in his eyes. "No. Please, you aren't thinking straight. We just need some time to work it out. We can work this out." Now who sounds desperate, he thought bitterly.
"No, we can't. I'm going to leave and take him with me." Brushing his robes off, he stood. He left his undrunk cup on the grass. If it burned him, he wanted no part of it. He started to walk purposefully away.
"Revan." He ignored her. "Revan, wait!"
Revan turned.
"Malak is like a brother to you, isn't he?"
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. And it was true. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hate his friend of years. It would be so much easier that way. Then he could be justified in blaming someone. Then he wouldn't have to feel guilty for trying to steal Bastila from him.
"Then promise me something," she asked. "Promise me that you'll take care of him no matter what happens. Promise me you'll take care of him."
Revan stared into her pleading, grey eyes. The twin suns of his world. And found that he couldn't deny her what she wanted, even though she owed him nothing for how she made him feel.
"I promise."
He walked away and she knew better than to try and stop him. Revan could still taste the burn on his tongue. He told himself he shouldn't want it. It was bad for him anyway. It had always tasted bittersweet to him, enjoyable but never completely so. Now it held nothing but bitterness.
Author's Note: Whew, that took a while and a lot of thought. Respect for all those other authors that write 5000+ word chapters (I feel like my word count is short compared to everyone elses). I will try to work on that... Anyway, this chapter was fun to write, mainly because there's an actual progression in the Bastila/Revan/Malak relationship. So proud of the caf analogies. =)
