The Face in the Shadows

Chapter Nine

Brenna heard the faint sounds of laughter, left the washpan and dishes that were still waiting to be washed, and went to look out the window. There were four people approaching, two of them—either girls or young women—had long, thick red hair. They flanked an older couple of a tall, slender woman with white hair, and a huge mountain of a man who had dark hair like Timmon's. The man and woman carried something on their backs.

"You've got company," Brenna commented. Elaan set aside her towel and joined her. Her mouth broadened into a smile as she saw the quartet, and she immediately headed for the outside door.

As soon as she opened the door and stepped outside, the two girls broke away from the man and woman, and ran to meet her. Elaan greeted them with an arm around each one and a kiss on each one's cheek. The girls returned both the hug and the kiss, and the three of them, arms around each other, turned and headed towards the two approaching adults.

Brenna moved to the door and, a little wistfully, watched Elaan and the visitors greet each other. The hugs and kisses that were exchanged indicated that these people were not mere neighbors, but were something closer. Then one of the girls saw Brenna and said something to Elaan, who turned and motioned for Brenna to come and join them. Almost reluctantly, as if her presence would disrupt such a warm and comfortable scene, Brenna left the porch and went over to them.

"So this is the cousin we have heard so little about," the man said, smiling. He had the same dark hair as Timmon and the same color eyes, but none of Timmon's build. He was taller by a head, larger in girth, too, and somewhat older.

"Hello," Brenna said, holding her hand out, wondering about the man's calling her 'cousin.'

"Bah!" said the man, grinning and holding arms wide. "Is that any way to greet your family?"

Brenna, thrown off by the word 'family', wasn't sure how to gracefully decline a Wookiee-hug from someone she didn't know and was about to offer a vague apology when Elaan intervened with a laugh. "It is, where she comes from. You will have to content yourself with a handshake, Doran, and find some other poor soul to squeeze to death."

There was a laughing whisper in her ear, more like a stage-whisper since it appeared meant to be overheard, from one of the red-headed girls. "You must not mind Da. He looks for every opportunity to show off his strength, especially since he lost that wrestling match." The girl took the hand that Brenna had stretched out to the man. "I am Faleen. Welcome, cousin."

"'Cousin'?" Brenna echoed.

Elaan smiled and waved a hand at the group. "This is Timmon's brother, Doran. His wife Kayleen. Their daughters Ranaad and Faleen. Ranaad is the elder."

"Yes, but only by a year," Faleen pointed out.

"But still the elder," Ranaad said, "and I think it is greatly unfair for the younger sister to be wed before me." Ranaad pouted, but her tone of voice was teasing.

"I am not wed yet," Faleen replied. "You yet have time to persuade a handsome young man to become your husband, if you wish to be wed first."

Elaan laughed and hugged Ranaad. "Your turn will come, never fear."

Ranaad's father spoke up. "And unlike your sister, I do hope that you obey your father and find some farmer's son to marry. Preferably a younger son. Hard working, of course. I will need someone to help me on the farm, and take care of me when I grow old, and I have no wish to live in the village as your sister does."

"Yes, well, we have some time to decide what is to be done with you in your old age," Elaan said. "In the meantime, this is my niece, my brother's daughter, by name of Brenna."

"Bren-na, not Bre-naugh?" Kayleen asked.

"That's right," Brenna asserted.

Doran grunted, "And why should such a pretty little thing carry a boy's name?"

"A boy's name?" Brenna said in some astonishment.

"The strength of your name is at the beginning, rather than the end," Elaan explained. "Here, that is the mark of a masculine name. But you are not from here, of course, and I think your name is lovely, in any case."

"Oh," Brenna said, a little embarrassed at not realizing before that the placement of the accented syllable indicated gender.

"I see that you have brought your instruments with you," Elaan said, indicating the stringed device slung over the man's back, and the packs carried by the women.

"And how else should we have our music?" Kayleen remarked.

"Yes, but before we play, I am near to starved," Doran said.

"I can see that," Elaan said, patting his ample stomach. "Kayleen never feeds you."

"Oh, she feeds me well enough," Doran replied, "But after climbing up the hill to get here, I fear I must replenish my strength."

"Come to the house, then," Elaan said, "and we shall see what we may scrape up, eh?"

Some time later, Luke, Timmon, and Aren had returned to the house, and the group had moved to the front porch. The musical instruments had come out, and a sort of jam-session was taking place. Everyone in the family, it seemed, could play several musical instruments and sing and dance. Sometimes one would pass an instrument to another in order to take a break or change to a different instrument or whatever, and the other seemed to play just as well as the first. The only one who seemed to be limited to just one instrument was Elaan, who seemed to know only the flute, although she often sang when she wasn't playing. If one wasn't playing, then he or she was either singing or dancing. The dancing was what Brenna would have categorized as a 'folk' dance, a very lively, energetic sort of clogging jig that added rhythm to the music when done on the wooden front porch. The foot movements were too fast for her to follow, precisely.

Brenna hung back from the group, watching the dancing and listening to the music and wishing that she could sing or play something whenever she saw her father laughing at the words to some song, or clapping his hands or tapping his toes in time to the music. Sometimes whoever was dancing would invite Brenna to try the step with them, but she politely shook her head 'no' and continued to watch from a distance.

And then, after a song had ended, one of the girls, Faleen, said, "Play your humming song, Elaan."

"I will," Elaan replied, "if Brenna will dance."

Brenna, who had detached herself from the group and the conversation, upon hearing her name was suddenly jolted back. "What?" she asked.

"Dance for us," Elaan said. "I should like to see you dance again, and the others have not seen you dance at all."

"Oh…no," Brenna said, glancing quickly at her father. "I told you before, I don't dance in front of people."

"But you dance so beautifully." Elaan turned to Luke. "Luke, help me persuade your daughter to dance for us."

Luke frowned and looked at Brenna. "I'd like to see you dance," he murmured. Rupert had told him something about a message for Brenna from one of the passengers on his first run to return the Afterlifers to their homeworlds, something like 'never stop dancing.' He had thought the message was figurative. As far as he knew, Brenna hadn't danced in years.

Brenna sucked in her lower lip, and looked at him.

"I'd like to see you dance," he repeated.

Elaan smiled and took her by the arm to pull her to the bare patch of ground in front of the porch. "You dance beautifully," she said encouragingly.

Brenna gave up her protest. Her father's words were like a command to her, even though she wasn't sure exactly why he wanted her to dance. Maybe he wanted to compare her abilities with what he had just seen from the others. Whatever the reason, she would give him her best, and hope it was enough.

Elaan returned to her place and picked up her flute. Kayleen passed the stringed instrument she had recently played to Doran and took the lute-like instrument Ranaad had discarded earlier. Timmon traded his small bongo-type drums for a hammered string instrument which seemed to be his favorite. Faleen kept the other flute she had been playing, and raised it to her lips. Elaan nodded her head as a signal to begin, and the group began playing, the two flutes on the pickup notes and the rest joining in on the downbeat.

Brenna began to dance.

It was about the fifth or sixth note of the song, when Luke suddenly froze in shock. It was much the same reaction Brenna had had when she first heard the song. The only difference was the expression of absolute recognition of the tune and disbelief that he should be hearing it again after so many years, and especially that Elaan should be playing it and Brenna should be dancing to it.

As she proceeded into the middle of a slow turn, Brenna sought out her father to see what he thought of her dance, and saw his expression of shock. She misinterpreted it as disapproval and contemplated whether it would be worse to end her dance now before the music ended, or to continue it to the end. The one was surely as bad as the other. She decided to continue but extended her stretches as far as she could, tried to give each movement absolute control. Once, due to the uneven ground, her balance baubled. She regained it quickly, certain that everyone had noticed.

Faleen was so caught up in watching the dance that she soured a note, and quickly changed to one that didn't jar quite so much in her counterpoint to Elaan's melody.

Brenna irrationally blamed herself for Faleen's bad note. Certain that her dance was an absolute disaster, she wondered whether she shouldn't just stop now. In her mind's eye, she magnified every perceived imperfection and saw herself in her audience's eyes as something ridiculous. She was too stiff, too clumsy, too unpracticed. If she couldn't improve, she decided, this would be her last dance. She would never dance again, not even in the privacy of her bedroom. It was stupid of her to even imagine that she ever could dance. She was making a fool of herself in front of all those people. She was an embarrassment to her father, an idiot who couldn't do anything right.

And just as Brenna couldn't take hearing the song the first time she heard it, neither could Luke. Abruptly, Luke turned and left the group, rounding the corner of the house to find a private place. Brenna saw him go, and froze in mid-movement. Elaan saw her reaction but continued playing to see if she would start again, then stopped when it became obvious that she wouldn't. The other musicians continued for a few notes before they, too, dropped out, and the music died away.

"What—" Kayleen began.

"I guess he did not care for her dance," Aren joked. "It was rather strange."

"Aren!" said his father sharply.

Brenna glanced at the boy. "No," she said. "He's being honest. Excuse me." Without waiting for a response, she followed her father around the corner of the house.

"Should someone go after her?" Kayleen asked Elaan quietly.

"Maybe," Elaan said thoughtfully. "I will go." She waved. "Play something."

"What?"

"Anything."

Luke stood, lost in his own thoughts, in a different place and a different time. The music had taken him on a journey he hadn't made in years and never thought to make again. He never heard the song end, nor the soft footsteps that came up behind him, nor the quiet ragged breath of a preparation before speaking. His eyes were covered with his hands, trying to obscure the memories the song evoked. In fact, he was completely unaware of his daughter's presence until she began to speak.

"I'm sorry, Father," she said.

Maybe it was the word 'Father,' but Luke was jolted back to the present.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," Brenna went on. "It won't happen again. I promise."

The conviction in her voice made Luke realize there was underlying meaning in her words, and he whirled to face her, pulling his hands from his eyes. "No!" he said.

The violence in his voice startled and frightened her. Brenna took a step backwards. Then she saw the remains of Luke's tears, and her fear mixed with confusion.

Seeing her reaction, Luke tempered his tone and said "No," again, but softly. He stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her, trying to give her all the love he had, but she pulled away, and all he could do was put his hands on her shoulders. "You didn't embarrass me. But that song—Sweetheart, don't you recognize it? No, of course you can't. That was before—I mean, you were so young…"

Brenna faltered, feeling stupid for not knowing the song. "It…seemed familiar to me when she first played it, but…what is it?"

"It's…" A lump stuck in Luke's throat, and he had to pause to clear it. "It's the lullaby she used to sing you to sleep with. How can she remember that song, but not us?"

"She…said that she was humming that song when Timmon found her. She can't remember the words. She wanted to know if I knew them."

"Different part of the brain," Luke realized. "Musical memory is in a different part of the brain. Sweet Deities, Bren. When she started playing and you started dancing, I don't know what came over me. It wasn't you, or your dancing. It was that song. Elaan was right. You dance beautifully. Don't ever be ashamed of that."

"But…Miss Bealis, on Tatooine. You made me quit because I wasn't good enough."

"No, Bren." Luke pulled away and looked at her. "That's not it, at all. Etan Lippa would have been looking for someone who stood out in any way. Miss Bealis wanted to put you in a show and take you on a tour. When I refused to let you perform in public, we exchanged words, and she told me that if I didn't let you perform, she wouldn't take you as a student any more. I made you quit because you were too good"

Brenna considered her father's response, wondering whether there was any truth to it. But whether it was or not, it hardly mattered at this point. She had done things that more than negated any positives she might once have accomplished, if indeed she had ever accomplished anything. But his reaction to the song had been a lot like her initial reaction. So even though she was stupid for not remember the song or the words, there was something that they shared, after all. A small connection.

Luke wrapped his arms around her again. This time she didn't move away, but neither did she return the hug. Then, after a moment, Brenna said, "Dad? There's something I think I should tell you."

"Oh?" Luke said, noting that she had called him 'Dad' again.

"I need…to set the record straight between us." Her eyes went to the ground for a moment. Luke waited expectantly. Finally, she took a breath and looked back up. "Back on Medea, you told Dr. Tibbik something that was incorrect. You said I'd been raped by Etan. That's not true."

"Oh?" Luke asked. His thoughts turned instantly from her dancing to the new topic. This was the first time she'd told him anything at all about that time.

Brenna finished by saying, "It was more like...prostitution."

Luke waited for her to go on, but she didn't.

After a moment, she broke eye contact again. "So now you know," she said.

Luke tried to tilt her head back up to re-establish their eye-contact, but she wouldn't look at him. "That's all I have to say," she told him.

"But I have something to say." Luke replied.

"I'm not going to apologize for what I did."

"Nor should you. You've done nothing wrong, Bren, but I think we need to talk about it. "

She looked at him a little suspiciously, but allowed him to tilt her chin up.

"Brenna," he said, "you do understand that you're the victim here, don't you?"

"Victim?" she said uncomprehendingly. "I just told you, it wasn't rape."

Luke decided to try a different tact. "In that case, would you mind answering a few questions for me? In the interest of 'setting the record straight,' I mean."

He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head. In the role of 'prostitute' in which she had cast herself, would she mind? No, a real prostitute wouldn't mind. "What do you want to know?" she asked.

"What were you paid?"

She blinked. "What?"

"What were you paid?" he asked again. "What compensation did you receive for your...favors?"

She seemed confused. "Whatever I wanted."

"Such as?"

"Money. Power. Whatever."

"What did you do with it?" Luke pressed. "Let's start with the money. You don't seem to have any of it left, and I thought I taught you at least some measure of thrift."

"I guess you didn't teach me all that well. I spent it."

"All of it?"

"Yeah."

"On?"

"Stuff."

"What sort of 'stuff'?"

"The Afterlife, mainly. Plus supplies and repairs for Croyus Four. That sort of thing."

"Ohhh," Luke said, as if this were a great revelation. He paused as if considering the information. "So you spent it to save the lives of others. I see. Now what about this 'power' you say you received. What kind of empowerment did Etan Lippa give you?"

"He gave me the freedom to move around."

"He took it away from you, first."

"He gave me Croyus Four."

"To use as he wanted. But look at all the people you helped at Croyus Four, right under his nose. That's pretty impressive. You didn't use Croyus Four for yourself, and you certainly didn't run the rescue operation for the glory."

Brenna thought for a moment, then said, "He taught me about the Force."

"From what I've seen, you were pretty much self-taught. You were already an accomplished telekin when he found you, and able to shield against me, which is no easy feat. And Etan Lippa never learned about your shielding abilities until the end."

"You're missing the point!"

"What point is that?"

"I wasn't an unwilling partner."

Luke paused and re-evaluated the situation. "So you're telling me...that you were attracted to Etan Lippa?"

She looked away.

"Did you love him?" Luke pressed. "Brenna, so far you've not said anything that would change my mind about what I've told Tibbik. The only thing that would convince me that your relationship with him was as something other than a victim would be if you loved him. If you want to set the record straight between us, then you owe it to me to answer a few more questions. Did you love him?"

Brenna shook her head. "I don't know. I made him think that I did, at least. But you're still not getting it. You see him as a monster. He wasn't like that with me at all."

"Sweetheart, I saw what he did to you, remember? When you let him link with you."

"But that was at the end, when I'd betrayed him. He was…the way he was because of his upbringing. You saw the records I gave you on Dagobah. You know what it was like for him. The Emperor trained compassion out of him. His mother was killed before his eyes. I think…even his father saw that there was still some good in him. I think that's why he was still trying to breed another heir."

Luke shrugged. The fact that Etan Lippa was the way he was just as much because of his upbringing as his genetics hardly mattered. "Okay," Luke said.

"It wasn't rape."

"Okay, so it wasn't rape."

"I think…he really believed that what he was doing was for the best."

"Okay."

She sighed, then grew thoughtful. For a moment, she dropped her mask. "I was the most important person in his life. As close as Etan Lippa could come to love, that's how he felt about me. I...understood him better than anyone else." She shook her head. "I don't know if I loved him. But I deceived him into thinking that I did. And for a while..."

"Yes?"

She swallowed, then went on with difficulty. "For a while, I was attracted to him. I believed him. I wondered if maybe he wasn't right after all. I mean, all this so-called 'intelligent' life has been at war with itself since time began. But no one calls the winning side 'murderers.' They're usually called 'freedom fighters' or 'heroes.' It all began to seem like a matter of perspective to me. And Etan promised order, an end to all the wars. For a while, I thought...I mean, I'd forgotten..." She couldn't go on.

"You were confused."

"I guess."

Her answer was too vague. There was more to it than that, Luke knew, but it was a beginning. She was talking and answering questions; it was more progress than she'd made on Medea.

"That's understandable," Luke said. "Sweetheart, nobody can blame you for being human. Etan Lippa did not get to his position of power without fooling a lot of people. He was a master at deception."

"He wasn't the only one," Brenna muttered. "I lied to him, to Rupert, everyone."

Luke ignored her self-deprecation. "He was also a powerful projective telepath. I don't doubt that he was hitting you with everything he had."

Brenna looked at her father sharply for a moment, then looked away again and shook her head. "I'm a shield, remember? Or was, anyway. No, I'm sure my thoughts were my own."

Luke inclined his head. "All right, but I still think it would have been very difficult to filter out everything. But he may have influenced you in other ways, too. He probably kept you so busy shielding and filtering that you didn't have time to think of much else. You're being too hard on yourself."

She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair in a gesture she had unconsciously picked up from her father. "You don't understand. I knew you wouldn't."

"Then make me understand."

"Look, Dad, all I can say is, I'm not the sort of daughter you would want, not the sort you could be proud of."

Luke smiled. "Brenna, Sweetheart, no matter what you may have done while you were with Etan Lippa, you've more than made up for it with the Afterlife. And if you understood Etan Lippa, if you had the compression even to love him, or if you had the courage to prostitute yourself to him for the sake of the Afterlife, well, then, you're a better person than I am. How could I not be proud of you?"

"I'm not who you seem to think I am…"

"Honey, no matter who you are, or who you think you are, you're still my daughter, and I love you."

Brenna bit her lip but said nothing. Luke stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't return the hug. "I will always love you," Luke told her. "No matter what happened between you and Etan Lippa, even if it was prostitution and not rape. No matter what you may have done."

"Would you love me even if I were the 'Butcher of Croyus Four'?"

"If you remember, at one time I did think that. That's why I went to Croyus Four. I hope you've forgiven me for actually believing it for a while."

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Oh, yeah, there is. I should have trusted you, known you better than to have believed what I heard. But you were a good actress. Even so, I never stopped loving you even then."

"Never?"

"Not one second."

Brenna was silent for a few moments, and then, tentatively, Luke felt her arms come up around him to return the hug. Luke sighed contentedly and tightened his hold. Progress. They were making progress. Brenna was healing.

After a moment, Brenna murmured, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"That song…does it have words?"

Elaan's humming song. Briande's lullaby to Brenna. But while he was hugging Brenna, the music had no more power over him, could no longer affect him. "Yeah," he replied.

"Do you know them?"

"Yeah."

"I wanted to give—I mean, she wanted to know what they were, and I couldn't tell her. Would you…tell her the words?"

Luke smiled. He heard the unspoken message this time. She wanted to give her mother a present but had nothing to offer except indirectly. That he could deal with. "I've got a better idea," he said. "I'll teach you the words, and then you can teach them to Elaan yourself. And then we'll go back to the group, because I want to see the rest of your dance."

Elaan stood at the corner of the house. Behind her, she could hear Aren's drums and Doran's dulcimer and Kayleen's guitar pounding a lively dance tune, but her attention was drawn to the sounds coming from in front of her. Then she felt an arm slip around her waist and a quiet voice in her ear.

"You are eavesdropping," Timmon accused. "It is a good thing they are too far away to hear clearly."

"I did not know whether to intervene," Elaan replied. She looked up and smiled. "But it appears as if they have resolved the difficulty themselves. They are talking, at any rate."

Then Luke's baritone voice began singing, very softly, too softly to make out the words, but the tune was familiar enough to recognize, and Elaan was pulled back into a past she couldn't remember.

"I think that you shall have the words to your humming song, after all," Timmon said.

"Yes," she replied a little distractedly.

They listened for a moment, then Timmon said suddenly, "I will leave with Doran in the morning."

Elaan returned sharply to the present and looked up at him, Luke and Brenna forgotten for the moment. "So soon? But spring has barely begun."

"The bonders' fair begins at the next turn of the moon, and by the time we return, it will be time to plow."

"You will be careful?"

"As always." Timmon kissed her on the forehead. "I am more concerned for you and Aren, after his experience with the Sniffers."

"You know that Aren and I are immune to the Sniffers."

"Yes, but your brother is not. If the Sniffers should return…"

"I think it more likely that the Sniffers will be on their way to the bonders' fair as well. Aren believes they were following a troupe with another wizard-born when he hid in the flying craft, and where else should a troupe be going at this time of year except there."

"Well, I hope they have enough sense to know that they are being followed."

"According to Aren, there was only one with the gift. The rest in the band were pretenders. I doubt they even know they have a genuine wizard-born among them."

"I shall endeavor to warn any apparent wizard-born I come across, whether genuine or no." He made an exaggerated sniff. "There may be something in the air…"

Elaan smiled. "Thank you. But I would not wish you to be so obvious about it."

"I know how to be discreet, my wife. I have not managed to thieve for these many years without at least a little discretion."

Elaan's expression suddenly changed to concern. "Be careful, my husband. I have an uneasy feeling about this journey."

"If the goods which I steal were not worth the trouble, I would remain here with you and forego the journey altogether. Yet I will heed your warning."

"Be sure that you do. Your booty is precious, yet you yourself would be even more precious booty to the bonders, if you are caught."