Now might be a good time to mention that my name is not George Lucas. As such, assuming at any point in this story that any of these characters belong to me is ridiculous, and you have your arms lopped off by a deranged Sith Acolyte for even thinking it.

Further Notes: I didn't want to serialize it. My curiosity got the better of me. Rest assured should you like this at all, that I already have three more chapters where this one came from.

I'm also aware of how sappy the title sounds. It's not meant to make sense now.

Footprints in the Clouds

By Temporal Rift

Part One: The Fallout

Chapter 1 - Shadows and Darkness

All this time and he still wasn't sure of himself.

Confidence, he'd learned very quickly, was not a universal slide scale. Overall, he was very self-confident. Not to the point of arrogance, for that was never something he believed he had the right to. His past was too clouded with darkness for arrogance. All the same, he knew somehow that few alive could stand against him.

She was arrogant when they first met. Prideful. Willful. Undeniably and rightfully so. Time and events had changed that. She, too, was left guarded and unsure. It was ironic, really, that before they saved the universe they had no problems with the way they acted, and now that they both proved beyond all doubt that they were everything they believed themselves to be – more than anyone ever dreamed they could be - they found the humility they had so desperately needed before.

He knew it was all tempered by the guilt they now carried. He wouldn't allow himself to fear the possibility of falling again, of failing again, but though he remembered none of his darkside indiscretions, he saw the evidence of them every day.

She, on the other hand, remembered every terrible moment of them.

Revan found her in her favorite spot, the small cliff overlooking the hilly plains of Dantooine. It was fall there, and the grassland had begun to turn a magnificent sunset orange. Only in the very far-off distance could you see anything else. When they resettled the planet, they had chosen a spot far away from the charred remnants of Darth Malak's fury.

Though she had her choice of views from that clifftop, she always faced in the direction of the ruined Jedi enclave.

"Statement: I advise against going up there, Master. Her mood during her ascent was...dark. It was most refreshing to me, but I am sure you won't enjoy it."

"I know, HK. I can tell."

"Interrogatory: If you know this, Master, why are you here? Masochism is not one of your preferences, though I cannot understand how the extreme water sloshing created by the physical activity you and Mistress Bastila undertook last didn't -"

"Shut up, HK."

"Indignant Acknowledgement: Shutting up, Meatba—I mean, Master."

He slowly climbed to where she was, reaching out slowly through the Force, through their bond, so as not to startle her. Even as he did, he could feel her resistance to him. It hadn't been this bad since..."

"You're thinking of the Rakatan and the Star Forge again."

She laughed just a little, maybe a little too sadly. "I thought I'd blocked you."

"It doesn't take much to figure that out."

He sat next to her, close enough to feel her warmth through his robes, yet far enough away that they did not physically touch. In the golden setting of the suns, her porcelain face reflected the brilliance of the waning light, but her beautiful ocean blue eyes were dark, mired by her thoughts.

He stared at her while she stared out at the horizon line, and they stayed like that until the suns had finally set, and twilight descended upon them.

"I don't deserve you," she finally whispered.

His eyes closed slowly, painfully. "This again," he sighed.

"You know it's true. I tried to turn you. I tried to kill you."

"No, you didn't."

"Revan, I was there. You were there. I raised my blade to you. In anger, I tried to strike you down. How could I? How could I have done it?"

Her eyes, still fixed upon a faraway point, filled with vicious tears. He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him.

"Do you love me?"

"Revan, wha—"

He repeated himself, more emphatically. "Do you love me?"

Her answer was easy and uncomplicated. "Yes. With everything I am."

"Then accept that who you were then was a different person than who you are now."

She frowned, and he could tell by her expression that his statement annoyed her. "I can't simply erase my past. I remember everything that happened. I have nightmares about every waking moment of it. My situation is nothing like yours!"

"It is everything like mine!" The volume and ferocity of his response startled her. He hadn't meant to, but he took advantage of the forced attention.

"Carth said something when we first met. He said that the Force could do terrible things to a mind. He said it could destroy your very identity. And he was right about that, completely right! The dark side changes everything you are, it warps and perverts who you once were into everything you thought you would never be, and it does so happily! You know this. You've been taught this since you entered the service of the Jedi. The person on the temple roof and in the command center was not you. It was the dark side, acting through you."

A sort of realization dawned on her. He was glad for it, but continued.

"And you didn't try to kill me. I gave you opportunities. You never took them."

She didn't say anything for a long moment, and it worried him again for the briefest of moments.

"I know," she whispered.

And he could feel the change.

She shifted to close the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as she moved. He held her close by instinct, allowing her to use him as support, as a rock to lean on.

"Thank you, Revan."

He shook his head, cracked a half-smile. "For what?"

"For loving me."

The smile bloomed. "Ah. I can't help that."

-

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