Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.

24. The Twilight of War

One of the only things that hadn't changed in Elara's life was the fact that mirrors were a commodity. There had only been one mirror in the Skywalker's Tatooine hovel, and it was the size of her palm. It got passed between family members, usually to check for sunburns. There had really been no need for it, though; it didn't matter the state of their clothes, the neatness of their hair. No one would have paid attention to it. The one in her room in the Temple was only large enough to fix her hair in. And that was all she'd needed it for. Over the years, she had come to be able to layer her robes perfectly without the need of a mirror. But, given the circumstance, Elara felt the need to indulge in her reflection. Just a bit. It wasn't every day she dressed in the robes of a Jedi Knight for the first time.

All of the linen was new. The leather freshly stitched. They felt heavier; but perhaps that was just because Elara acknowledged the responsibility that came with them. She had wrapped and secured each layer with reverence. She did it quietly, back turned to the full-length mirror in Padmé's dressing room. Part of her had done this so there would be some kind of reveal. The other part of her had done it as a reminder that, though this was a celebration, it was still the same dressing routine. It was only once each article of clothing was on––the tabards draped over her shoulders, the obi secured around her waist by a belt––Elara turned to face her reflection. What she saw immediately gave her pause.

The robes themselves were not terribly dissimilar to what she'd been outfitted in as a padawan. The biggest change was the color of her inner tunic. What had once been taupe fabric, was now grey, so pale it almost appeared purple in color. It complimented the off-white linen of the other layers, and the slightly darker tone of her trousers. But, perhaps most notably, was the strange absence of Elara's padawan braid. The rib-cage length, thin, twine-banded plait had been snipped off the day prior. It had marked the successful completion of her trials. With it gone, with her hair loose, and with the new robes––she felt as though she looked more mature. The corner of her mouth lifted, just slightly.

She looked like a Jedi.

A warm swell of pride grew in Elara's chest. She'd done it. After years of arduous training, of being reminded she was the oldest youngling, the oldest padawan, of people openly telling her they weren't sure if she could make it––she'd done it. The new robes weren't just a symbol of her adjustment in rank; they were a display of accomplishment. There were very few things in life that Elara had allowed herself to revel in. She decided that this was something she'd let herself bask in, if only for a moment. Because there'd be no time for anything more. There was a war on, after all.

With a parting look cast at her reflection, Elara stepped into the receiving room of Padmé's senatorial apartment. Padmé had been waiting, seated in a plush chair, her face turned towards the mid-morning sun.

"Thank you, again, for letting me use your mirror," Elara said upon entering. Padmé's head whipped around, and a grin started to bloom across her lips, bright as the sun that poured in through the windows. "It seems that you always lend me a mirror in moments like these."

"Oh, Elara!" Padmé rose to her feet and swept across the room. She laughed with elation and clasped her hands in front of her mouth. "You look wonderful!"

Elara couldn't help but return both the grin and the laughter. She looked down and tugged her belt so it sat a little more center. Before she could thank Padmé a second time, she found herself wrapped in her friend's arms. Their laughter melded together as they embraced. It wasn't often Elara had a moment to be so blatantly, overtly happy. It was usually hidden by a careful mask, the only hint of it sparkling mirthfully in her eyes. But with Padmé––she could smile and giggle and gush. So she did. When Padmé pulled back, she marveled at Elara's new robes like they were the most expensive finery. And that was a look given by a woman always dressed so elegantly, so ornately that any and all Jedi accoutrements.

"A Jedi Knight, at last; it suits you!" Padmé assured excitedly. "I'll have to start calling you Master Skywalker now, won't I?"

The question inspired a small laugh from Elara, but it also saw the slight fade of her smile. "I believe that General Skywalker will probably prevail, given the times." The jovial atmosphere of the room started to die off. As grins waned and reality crept in, Elara turned to face the windows. "In addition to the title of Jedi Knight, they are granting me a command. A command, Padmé…"

A heavy silence blanketed the room, settling over it somberly. In that quiet, Elara watched sunbeams glance off the thrum of Coruscanti speeders outside. The title of General fell on her shoulders heavier than that of Jedi Knight. She had practical combat experience, yes, but she hadn't been trained to be a soldier. Her command had been created and trained for war. It was intimidating in every possible scenario and instance. It was a reminder of how desperate the galaxy was to have protectors; how much this conflict needed to end, despite the fact it had only just started.

A slender arm curled itself around the crook of Elara's. With a gentle tug, Padmé guided Elara towards the balcony with slow yet confident steps. It was the kind of walk she used when talking business while strolling through the senate building.

"They would not have given you a command if they didn't believe you couldn't lead," she assured. Her tone was warm and even. Reassuring. But Elara still grimaced.

"I've only been a Jedi Knight for a matter of hours. In less than another, I will be in charge of keeping an entire battalion of men alive. They're to call me General, a position most have to earn."

The duo stepped out onto the balcony, into the direct warmth of the sun. Elara's eyes fell shut against it, an attempt to absorb its comfort. Sunbeams and their heat, their beauty always reminded her of home. And though Tatooine held some truly terrible memories, it still bore a kind of nostalgia that soothed her. She felt Padmé squeeze her arm as they came to a stop.

"You are a veteran of the Battles of Naboo and Geonosis. You have known combat, what it is to think and act under fire. War is a terrible thing, but you have the skills to navigate it. I believe that, Anakin believes that––the Council must believe it, too. The last person that needs to come to that same conclusion is you," Padmé urged gently.

The corner of Elara's mouth ticked upwards. "Thank you, Padmé. I just feel like my head is reeling, everything has changed so quickly. This war has altered everything…" She withdrew her arm from Padmé's and went to lean on the balcony balustrade. A soft breath was huffed from her nose. "I can't imagine what you must be going through in the Senate. It must be… chaos incarnate."

There was a gentle sigh from Padmé, who joined Elara at the balustrade. She braced both hands against the sun warmed stone, and gazed out over the Coruscanti skyline. "Wartime politics are nasty. There's always someone threatening to push things one step too far. More systems are either abandoning the Republic, or claiming neutrality. Everyone is already at war with one another; as things worsen… I fear that we will all be tested in ways we cannot yet comprehend."

"You have a strong voice. It's insistent and passionate, unyielding. If there's anyone who can keep unruly senators in line, it's you," Elara assured with a faint laugh.

A smile split across Padmé's face, which broke the frown she'd previously worn. She reached out and placed a hand atop Elara's. With a slight curl of her fingers, she squeezed it in silent thanks.

"We may be operating in different theatres, but what we do individually will be for mutual benefit. If I am to be talking down unruly senators, the work you do on the fronts will be invaluable," she replied.

"The only way any of us will survive this war is if we have one another's backs," Elara agreed.

"Speaking of which––I never got the chance to properly thank you for saving my life." Padmé, with a friendly mischievousness playing at the corners of her mouth, swept back into the receiving room. Elara turned to stare after her, mouth wordlessly hung open. Memories of that day on the landing platform were still fresh, from the smell of smoke to the blistering heat of the explosion. She followed Padmé back inside, her head shaken in a refusal.

"There's no need to thank me," she eventually got out. The denial had quite obviously fallen on deaf ears. The senator had just scooped something off of a nearby table; a smile still playing over her lips. She shot Elara a look, a brow arched.

"Yes, there is. It was your duty, I know, as both a Jedi and a friend. You have done so much for me, Elara, and not just as a protector. This is the least I could think to do." Padmé extended an arm, and offered what she'd picked up. It was a small silver box, engraved with what Elara recognized as traditional Nabooian symbology. "If anything, take it as a congratulations for your elevation to Jedi Knight."

Elara glanced from the box to Padmé, who was watching her in earnest. Her eyes fell on the beautiful box again, and a familiar pinch of refusal made itself known in her stomach. Receiving gifts was always tricky for Elara. Some part of her always wanted to refuse it. A lifetime of meagre living made her self-conscious of receiving such clearly expensive gifts. Though, directly in conflict with that ideal, was the instinct to never refuse a friend.

So, Elara took the box, which Padmé then quietly indicated she should open. When the lid lifted, it revealed a hair clip equally as ornate as the box. It, too, was silver, and curved in elegant, curling designs. In the center was a single blue stone, polished till it shone. It reminded Elara of the Nabooian lakes that she'd glimpsed all those years ago.

"Padmé…" she breathed. She picked the clip out of the box and smiled at it in awe. "This is beautiful."

"I thought that, now that you're allowed to do what you like with your hair, you might like something to keep it out of your face," Padmé offered with a smile. She held her hand out, palm up, fingers gently curled. "May I?"

With a laugh––and a faint stinging in her eyes––Elara nodded and placed the clip in her hand. "Good luck." She combed her fingers through her hair, which was loose for the first time in years. It kissed the tops of her shoulders in gentle waves, though there was some peculiar layering thanks to the tail requirement.

Elara turned to allow her friend to fuss about with her hair. They were both quiet as Padmé started to pull her fingers through the unevenly cut tresses. It was done gently, and it felt soothing. It reminded Elara of the days where Shmi used to braid her hair back, the utmost care that her fingers had moved with. There was something oddly intimate about letting someone touch one's hair. It required a certain degree of trust. And over the years, both Padmé and Elara had grown to trust one another immensely. To the point that, now, as Padmé fussed over her hair, the act came off as sisterly.

"There we are," she murmured. There was a slight clicking sound as the clip engaged. A few unruly strands of hair still framed the sides of Elara's face, but had otherwise been pulled away from it.

With a smile, Elara reached up and touched the clip. She turned back around and reached out to embrace her friend. It was eagerly returned, with a loving tightness. "Thank you, Padmé," she whispered.

The future seemed shadowed, obscured by a haze of black clouds. But it was small acts of kindness that didn't make it seem so bleak; they reminded Elara that she did not face it alone. They were all about to plunge into the unforgiving maws of war blindly, unversed in its ways. But they had one luxury, one thing that might just see them through it––comradery. They all had each other.

OOOO

Elara climbed the stairs to the Jedi Temple, which had taken on an almost tenuous quiet in recent days. It left an uneasiness roiling in her stomach. It reminded her of what she'd seen during her Trial of Spirit––the ghostly silence, the eerie lack of individuals. Such memories resulted in her climbing the steps slowly, lips pursed. Many Jedi had already been deployed across the galaxy. Some had left to oversee preventative measures, others were already engaging in counter attacks against the Separatists. The absence of so many individuals was a terrible reminder of how real it all was. Of how many Jedi and padawans were already risking their lives in this new war.

The other reason for her slow climb was thanks to armor she'd layered on. Greaves made her legs feel unwieldy, vambraces weighted her forearms, and pauldrons and a half-cuirass made her torso feel more bulky. After years of swirling about in linen, the armor would take some getting used to. But it was a welcomed preventative measure. It was nice to know there was something thicker than cloth protecting her from dying. Elara had started to fuss with her combat gloves as she climbed, tugging the slate-grey articles till they fit more comfortably. In addition to the armor, the robes beneath were different, too; fewer layers, less weight, easier to move in. That, too, would take some getting used to.

"Master Skywalker," intoned a pleased voice.

Elara looked up and found Obi-Wan smiling at her from the top of the stairs. She stopped mid-step and stared at him in shock. The first thing that left her mouth, completely unbidden, was, "Your hair!"

What had once been shoulder-length blonde locks, had been shorn significantly. It was now swept handsomely in a side-flick, though a single unruly strand tickled his forehead. His beard appeared to have been trimmed, too. Elara's exclamation had caused him to grin; and she felt her heart both flutter, and choke up into her throat. She'd thought it time, and time again––it was completely unfair for a single person to be so handsome.

"Yes, I thought it was time for a change," Obi-Wan said decidedly. Elara finished her climb of the stairs, and found herself eyeing the off-white armor strapped to his shoulders, arms, and legs. More and more Jedi were wearing armor these days. It was an unfortunate sign of the times.

Elara arched her brows and re-met his eyes.

"It's a time for change, it would seem," she said. A smile quirked the corners of her mouth up. "I like it." Before she could stop herself, Elara reached out to sweep her fingers through the front of his hair, which forced that errant strand back into place. Her heart lurched inside her chest when she realized what she'd done. Instinct wanted to wrench her hand away in embarrassment. Instead, Elara forced herself to keep her cool; so she let her smile go a bit crooked. "It's a good change."

When Elara dropped her hand, she noticed Obi-Wan's intent stare. Something gleamed in them, an indiscernible, carefully guarded emotion. That look was carried over her from head-to-toe in an almost languid motion. When it jumped back up, and their gazes locked, Obi-Wan smiled. It was the same smile he'd leveled her with the day they'd met; the one that had gotten her in trouble nearly instantly. It was lopsided, boyish.

"Yours is a good change, too, Master Skywalker… General Skywalker," he added pointedly.

With a snort, Elara shook her head. "That's going to take some time to get used to. Don't you think, General Kenobi?"

The playfulness of the previous moment seemed to die with the waning of his smile. A seriousness grew in its place, blooming slowly. Obi-Wan nodded, lips pursed.

"Yes, I'm afraid it will. But it's what must be done. It is our duty now to uphold such a title." It was quiet between them for a moment, the distant hum of speeder traffic flowing between them. Obi-Wan then cleared his throat and gestured to the Temple entrance. "I shan't keep you any longer. It was a happy coincidence that we crossed paths, but I'm afraid we're both needed elsewhere."

"A mission?" Elara asked.

Obi-Wan inclined his head. "Yes. My first foray into battle."

Something in her chest tightened at the thought. One by one, everyone that Elara knew had entered the field of battle, be that on the frontlines, or in political circles. And while she knew that Obi-Wan was perfectly capable, that he'd gone on assignment before––this was different. This was war. And the notion of him venturing out on his own, without Anakin, in a totally new climate turned her stomach. Elara had to fight to keep her expression sober. For she knew that this was something that he could handle with the utmost poise. It would be an insult to think anything otherwise.

"Stay safe," she found herself saying, regardless.

A cheeky smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. "Don't I always?"

Elara quirked an eyebrow wryly. "Says the man who leapt out a window into speeder traffic."

"As though you wouldn't have done the same."

"Yes, but it's more in my character than yours, I think."

Obi-Wan chuckled, the two sharing one last moment of light-hearted fare. But his smile waned once more, into something smaller. It was almost quietly reverent. Like it was entirely possible this could be the last time he sees her face; which, in cold, harsh reality, was true. He reached out, placed a gloved hand on her bicep, and gave it a soft squeeze.

"I'll stay safe," Obi-Wan promised gently.

Elara tangled her fingers together so she wouldn't reach out to take his hand. Instead, she inclined her head in quiet thanks. "May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi."

"May the Force be with you, Master Skywalker."

Obi-Wan's hand slipped away from her arm, fingers brushing against the fresh linen of her sleeve. They both continued on their paths––Elara towards the Temple entrance, Obi-Wan down the stairs. But after only having taken a few steps, there was a longing pull in the pit of Elara's stomach. She twisted her head around to look back, unable to help the furrow of her brows and the purse of her lips. Her eyes met Obi-Wan's, who had paused to do the same. There was a peculiarly melancholy look on his face. Their gazes held for a quiet moment, something staticky forming between them. The pull in the pit of her stomach grew stronger; it bloomed into an urge to embrace him, just in case. But, again, something––duty––stopped her from doing so. Instead, with the slightest of smiles, she nodded to him. A slight, faint sense of ease smoothed over Obi-Wan's expression, and he, too, nodded. And with that, they both turned away again, and continued on their way.

Elara entered the Temple entry hall, which was overtaken by that tenuous quietude. Midday sun streamed between the momentous marble pillars, which lent the room a warm glow. She eyed the staircase with a wariness. It was nearly impossible for her not to recall the image of Darth Carus descending them. Ever since the trial, the sight of those steps had caused uncomfortable shivers to roll down her spine. So Elara averted her gaze to the only other person in the entry hall. The person that she was there to meet.

They stood between two pillars, silhouetted by the sun. Their form was bulked up by the presence of full armor, and one of their arms hung bracing a helmet to their hip. They stood with shoulders squared, head proudly raised, and a firm stance. The rigidity of such a pose spoke of rigorous training. This man cut an impressive, intimidating figure, even in silhouette.

"An impressive view, isn't it?" Elara asked upon her approach.

The man turned with a calculated rotation on his heels; it was the movement of a soldier. His face was familiar, but only for the fact that she had met Jango Fett. She was able to clock differences in the face of this clone trooper. Despite the stern furrow of his brows––which all clones seemed predisposed to––there was evidence of smile lines at the corners of his mouth. His hair was shorn into a short, militaristic fashion, and the close-shaved sides were dyed a muted red. Muted green markings were present at places on his armor, as well as the helmet at his side. He inclined his head to her before he offered a hand.

"General Skywalker," he greeted. Elara clasped the offered hand, smiling kindly. "I'm CC-7308, it's an honor to meet you, sir."

"Is there something besides your identification number I might call you?" Elara asked. For a moment, the trooper looked taken aback. Their handshake stalled, hands still clasped and hung between them.

"The lads call me Ack-Ack," he replied.

Elara inclined her head, smiled broadly, and reengaged the handshake. "It is an honor to meet you Captain Ack-Ack."

Again, Ack-Ack looked mildly surprised by the use of the name. It was a subtle form of shock, which barely moved any of his features. But it glinted in his eyes, which quickly searched her face, as though he sought out something. But then he nodded, expression still stoic. "Thank you, General."

A soft laugh left Elara's mouth as she retracted her hand.

"You'll have to forgive me if I seem a little thrown by the title. I never expected to obtain such a position in my lifetime," she apologized. "It's very new to me."

"That's alright, sir. I have faith that you'll take to it well. We've been regaled with stories of your heroism in battle, particularly on Geonosis," Ack-Ack mentioned. He spoke with a measured tone, and she had to wonder if they'd all been trained to speak so carefully. To speak as though always talking to authority. There was a stiffness to it, which spoke to a militaristic propriety that she was not familiar with.

A snort puffed from her nose.

"You mean when I got blinded by a rancor? Yes, very heroic," Elara joked. She was pleased when the seriousness on Ack-Ack's face broke. A smile curled at one corner of his mouth, and his shoulders shook in an impossibly quiet laugh. One of his brows rose in a wry sort of way.

"Wouldn't want to face one of those all on my lonesome. Proud to say that we have someone in command who did."

"Then I hope to prove that you have not misplaced your pride, Captain. Would it be possible for me to meet any of the other troops? I would like to be introduced who I'll be fighting beside," Elara mentioned.

Ack-Ack nodded, once more returning to the straight-faced captain she'd just met. "We just arrived on Coruscant, so some of the boys should still be on the ship. If you'd follow me, sir, I'd be happy to make introductions." He gestured for her to follow, which she did with a thankful smile.

Their walk was filled with professional chatter. Ack-Ack rattled off the impressive statistics of the squadron she was about to meet, and of the company she now commanded. The ship they'd arrived on was docked in one of the Temple's landing bays, which was strewn with piles of supply crates. A handful of troopers lounged amongst these boxes, chatting both idly and comfortably. They were all dressed in matching armor, but their helmets had all been removed. They appeared perfectly at home in the armor, much unlike the newly appointed Jedi General. They wore it like a second skin, that was evident even from a distance.

"Boys, to attention!" Ack-Ack called upon their approach.

The group, which consisted of several troopers, immediately snapped to attention. One leapt off the stack of crates, atop which he'd been sitting. Another got up off the ground. The other two pushed away from the boxes, against which they'd been leaning. Gone were the mirthful expressions, the smatterings of laughter, and the smiles. They were replaced with toughened expressions, all of which stared forward dutifully. Ack-Ack nodded at their swiftness in appreciation. He then swept a hand towards Elara, who'd come to stop beside him.

"This is General Skywalker, she'll be leading our company. She wanted to meet you lot, get to know who it was she'd be sharing the field with. Step forward, one at a time, and deliver your identification number," he instructed.

One by one, each trooper stepped forward and curtly delivered a set of numbers. It was done with a ruthless efficiency. The minute one of them stepped back, the other stepped forward. And once that was all said and done, Elara let her eyes dance over their faces. Her lips pursed a little, as something settled wrong in the pit of her stomach. She glanced over at Ack-Ack and gestured to the troopers.

"May I?"

"Of course, sir."

Elara turned her attention back to the men and clasped her hands behind her back. She inclined her head gently. "At ease," she said, just as gently. The command felt awkward on her tongue; just as awkward as the idea that she was giving people commands. The four troopers' postures relaxed a little. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. And while I will do my best to familiarize and memorize your identification numbers, I'd like to know if there's anything else I might call you by."

The request caused a visible ripple of confusion to wash over them. Brows furrowed, sideways glances were exchanged. The second trooper in line cleared his throat respectfully.

"Sir?" he asked.

With a smile, Elara let herself meet their eyes one at a time. "Names. I'd like to know your names."

The clarification caused even further visible confusion. Eventually they all turned their eyes to Ack-Ack, silently questioning. From the corner of her eye, Elara saw the captain give a nod. There was a tentative air about the situation as the first trooper stepped forward. His hair was buzzed down to a faint fuzz, and there was a scar pulling up the right corner of his mouth. It seemed to fix his face in a permanent partial-smirk.

"Gunney, sir," he introduced. As he stepped back, the second trooper stepped forward.

"Klick, sir." Klick's hair, which was buzzed into a standard cut, was interrupted by a white streak cutting through its front.

The third trooper stepped forward, and bobbed his head in an acknowledging nod. "Blinker, sir." The left half of his head was dyed blonde, while the other half remained black. Then, to juxtapose that, his left eyebrow was black, and the left blonde.

"Strafer, sir," introduced the last trooper. An impressive amount of geometric cuts had been made to his hair on the sides of his head, while the top was left long.

Elara smiled at them broadly, genuinely. "A pleasure to meet you, Gunney, Klick, Blinker, Strafer." She made a point to meet their eyes as she said their names, to which they nodded in reply. They all still maintained an underlying look of bewilderment, like they couldn't believe she wanted to know their names. And if that was truly what they thought, then Elara's heart broke a little in that moment.

"We look forward to fighting with you, General," said Klick. There was something bright to his voice, something that reminded Elara of Anakin. She wondered if he was the troublemaker of the group.

"We've heard lots of good things," agreed Strafer.

"Well, I hope not to disappoint you all," Elara said, a slight waver to her voice.

"I'm sure you won't, sir," Blinker assured.

"We hope that we won't let you down," Gunney tacked on. He appeared to be the one standing the most at attention, despite having been told to be at ease.

Elara nodded to him, expression schooled into something impossibly gentle. "I'm sure you'll all exceed expectations," she assured.

"General, let me show you the ship," offered Ack-Ack.

Elara hummed her agreement, nodded to the troopers, and followed Ack-Ack. She tried to observe him subtly as they walked. Something struck her about the uniqueness of all the troopers' appearances. The differences to their hair, the tiniest difference in posturing or wrinkles. It was a reminder that under the monikers of 'clone' and 'trooper,' they were, in fact, men. All individuals who had the misfortune of being lumped into a singularity.

"I hope that I made a good impression," Elara said lightly. She glanced over her shoulders to find the group talking in a tight circle. She saw Blinker crane his head around to peer after her and Ack-Ack, expression mildly perturbed.

"You did," said the captain. He sounded assured. "You asked to call them by their names. These boys are used to being called by their identification codes by anyone who's not their brother. You did a lot by them just asking to know what they are; did a lot more by saying that's what you want to call them."

A sour curdling bubble up in Elara's stomach. To some, clones were clones. They were an expendable set of numbers, reproductions that could be easily replaced, and that didn't sit well with her. She quietly shook her head as they climbed the ship's gangway.

"These men are under my charge, now. They're more than numbers to me. I hold their lives in my hands. I would be remiss if I didn't take the time to know who they are as people." Elara was quiet for a moment, a frown pulling at her mouth. "I… may not be a clone, but I know what it is like to be thought of as expendable. To be thought of as less than a person. I will not have these men live and fight at my side and feel anything less than human."

Elara and Ack-Ack stopped at the top of the gangway simultaneously. She looked up at the captain, who stared right back pensively. Slowly, a smile cracked his stern exterior. It enhanced the smile lines at the corners of his mouth, and emphasized the ones at the corners of his eyes. It spoke of a softer side in him, one that he didn't––or hadn't been allowed to––exercise much. The soft warmth in his eyes spoke of a love for his men that he did not easily profess to strangers.

"I think we'll get along just fine, General," Ack-Ack said. He reached out and clasped her shoulder, smile growing. Elara smiled back, and a bit of dread lifted off her shoulders.

"I'm glad to hear that, Captain; I agree."

Afterword: The delay for this chapter was born out of needing to do some planning on behalf of our brand new clone friends. I wanted to figure out who they were on paper before I gave them a preliminary introduction. That, and coming up with clone names is hard. This is a shorter chapter, but that's for the fact it's transitional. We'll do a nice little time skip and probably get to the Clone Wars next chapter, starting with the delightful Cat and Mouse.

Review Replies!

WaywardandWanderlust: Ahh, thank you! I'm really, really happy that you're continuously enjoying the story as it progresses! Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

MsRosePetal: I'm a big instrumental music/movie score nerd. I love listening to OSTs for the source material I'm writing for while I write new chapters. And finding variations of it by independent artists helps me find music that is both canon, but new enough that it can really fit what I'm writing. So I love listening to Lucas King's stuff, as well as Samuel Kim's stuff! I listened to a lot of Samuel Kim's Star Wars variations while writing this chapter (a lot of the Star Wars x Pirates of the Caribbean stuff really works for this story, actually). I've actually got two seperate playlists for this story; lyrical and instrumental, and I play them interchangeably while I write! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

PrettyRecklessLaura: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

Amelia831: I had a lot of fun writing Dark Elara; 'cause it's such a swerve away from where she'd grown to be. And I just had to throw a bit of Vader in there, as a subtle warning… one that she's not gonna recognize till it's too late. And I'm still working on fleshing out a padawan for Elara; 'cause they're not gonna show up till later. But I can definitely see a Cal-like padawan for Elara. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

Duchess of Lantern Waste: There's a plethora of Obi-Wan/Elara moments to be had during the Clone Wars! War pushes people to realize and act upon a lot… and these two love-struck idiots are gonna be pressured to do something, sooner rather than later. And I really do mean that––it's not too much longer till we hit a breaking point for the two of them. And, yeah, Elara's doomed to lose a part (or a few parts) of her heart no matter what. It's gonna be… rough. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
bambam411: Labyrinth is a brilliant movie, and I will accept any vernacular that reminds me of Jareth any day of the week! Last chapter I took the liberty to let Elara be a little more outwardly badass while she was facing down Windu. I wanted to allude to the attitude she's gonna have to carry with her through the war; also, I haven't played into that Skywalker Cockiness so much with her, and I'd like to. I fully believe it's a genetic thing. I'm a big sucker for writing Elara and Ani. I've loved developing their relationship as they both get older, and seeing how it both changes and remains the same. I'm really happy to hear that your granddad is doing well! And I've been taking more breaks, and my brain's been thanking me for it. I hope you're doing well! Thanks again!

MotherAiya: I'm really, really glad Darth Carus read as a good middling malicious/a good dark side. I really took time to think about what would make Elara turn that way, and how that would manifest itself. With Anakin, he manifests anger. I think with Elara, she'd manifest this deep, melancholic sadness––but she'd twist it into those malicious, joking jabs. And we'll be entering the world of the Clone Wars come next chapter! I'm both excited and very nervous. I've got lots planned, and, yes: Elara and Ashoka being a force of nature is one of them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

PhAnToM 1212: The fight with Windu was absolutely meant to display her potential. Because I thought that, with all the skepticism Windu had for the Skywalkers, he'd be like "I wanna see this through." So Elara was no-holds-barred, showing him what she can do. And we'll see more of that, in lots of different ways, throughout the Clone Wars. And playing with Elara's inner darkness was fun… and that darkness is just gonna keep nagging at her. And I'm very glad Obi-Wan and Elara's relationship is turning out realistic! I've been pacing it carefully, and trying to escalate it at a good rate. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Dally'sTUFF: I had entertained writing a whole chapter or two about the trials, but I thought it would be a bit much. Maybe I'll post some one shots? 'Cause I did draft out ideas for each one, I just thought the two I'd written were the most important for her journey. I hope that you're doing well, and that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

monkeybaby: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

DCDGojira: I will say that Elara's gonna be tanging with the Darkness quite a bit, but she's pretty strong. We'll be seeing how both Anakin and Elara deal with the temptations, and whether or not they end up actually talking to each other about that stuff. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Brazenyeahv2: I'm both excited and very, very nervous to tackle the Clone Wars. 'Cause I've only had a six-month exposure to TCW series, so I'm gonna be trying my damndest to get the character nuances right, and keep things in the correct timeline. Also––The. Mortis. Arc. I do, indeed, have plans for it. While I was watching it I was scribbling notes like crazy, going 'oh, that works so well, OH THAT WORKS SO WELL FOR THIS.' I was worried about it at first, 'cause I was like 'how on earth do I get Elara in on this and not have it seem dumb?' and I'm quite pleased with the avenue I found. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Guest: Blue Shadow Virus would certainly be poignant! I hadn't originally planned on including it, but I might just! Thanks again!

MalirBly: Thank you so much! I'm really happy that you've been enjoying the story so far! And I had a blast writing Dark!Elara, which was a fun surprise idea I had in the middle of writing the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed the newest installment; thanks again!

Éomy: As I tell everyone who says sorry for a late review, don't worry about it! Life happens (boy, do I know that life happens). It's always nice to hear from you, no matter when you review!

For Ch. 22: It was a great relief to write a calm chapter. It really helped me enter a good transition period where I could address some stuff. One thing being Elara's relationship with Yoda. It has certainly changed loads; he does trust her now, though there'll always be a tentativeness there, which we'll see in the Clone Wars. Also, he knows something's up between Obi-Wan and Elara, and he will not be letting that go. And Obi-Wan and Elara's relationship ever changes… it grows ever more tense, and the breaking point is nearing.

For Ch. 23: Thank you so much! I was really, really pleased with how the last chapter turned out. I got really into writing the Trial of Spirit, and I, myself, felt immersed in it while I wrote it. I knew that Obi-Wan had to be integral in dragging her back to reality; because I believe he's one of two people that would be able to do that.

So, we do enter the Clone Wars series next chapter. In my opinion, I don't think that you need to watch the series before continuing to read. There'll be characters and storylines that I either don't use or gloss over, and I might be changing some things around, which could be a little confusing to someone who hasn't seen the series. But, what I also do when I write episodes is I title the chapters the episode name. So if you were interested in watching the episode corresponded with the chapter, you always could. But I'd say, if you don't mind having things spoiled for you prior to watching, there's no need to do a whole watch-through prior to reading. (Also, if you plan on watching, it's important to note most of the episodes are not in chronological order, but there are lists of how to watch it in proper order of events).

Also, I'm glad that you enjoy Damnable Place, too! That and Balance are two of my proudest works of fic that I've written!

Thank you, again, or your lovely review! If you have any questions about the Clone Wars stuff prior to the next chapter (or at all), you can always shoot me a PM! I hope you have a lovely day and are doing well!

northernfiction: I'm happy you've been enjoying Elara's character development! It's been interesting to write a character over such a long span of their lifetime, and to develop their relationships through it. Every time I write Ani and Lari together, my heart just aches; 'cause they have it so good right now! And as we get closer to the end… boy is it gonna hurt. And Obi-Wan and Elara's relationship is gonna be changing very, very soon… and I'm very excited for that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

thenerdnextdoor: Ahh, thank you so much! I'm so happy that you've been enjoying Elara's story, and that you feel so connected to her! I've worked really hard on making sure that she's realistically integrated, so hearing that you're so drawn in makes me both very happy, and very flattered! I've had such a blast writing her relationships with Obi-Wan and Ani, because they're both a challenge, but it's so rewarding to arrive at the just the right thing.

And thank you for your reassurances. I've found a lot of solace in my writing, and it's helped me out a lot lately, and through a lot of other tough times. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; Elara's story will continue next time as we jump feet-first into the Clone Wars. Thank you, again, for all your kind words! I hope you're doing well!

Shadow Wolf 15846: Of course, anytime! I love answering questions. Thanks again; I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!

The Clone Wars will begin next chapter! I'm looking forward to it a lot, but I am a decent bit nervous; I've only really been well-acquainted with the series for about six months (it was my first quarantine binge). So I hope I'll do the characters and storylines justice!

Also, just to note, I know that Green Squad exists, but I always pictured Elara's battalion in green. I did a decent amount of research to make sure I wasn't copying any colors or names or battalion numbers; but if I make a big no-no, someone let me know!

I'll see you all in the next chapter! Get ready for some sassy/flirty Obi-Lara, cocky Anakin, and Elara trying to keep her brother in line. Thanks again!

~Mary