Disclaimer:
I don't own any of the characters; I'm not using this for money, yatsa, yatsa, and yatsa.
Claimer:
I do however own the characters of Padme Amidala Skywalker (I don't own the names, just the character), Gaeity Solo, Tanner-Jules Solo, Jennelle Solo, and Carime Liepti. (I know I'm not that inventive.)
New Characters:
Padme Amidala Skywalker (Ali-Lyn)–the only surviving child of Luke Skywalker. She's 17 yrs old.
Gaeity Solo – the eldest child of Han Solo and Princess Leia Solo. She's 15 yrs old.
Tanner-Jules Solo – Gaeity's twin brother. He's 15 yrs old, too (duh!).
Jennelle Solo – Han & Leia's youngest child. She's 2 yrs old.
Master Carime Liepti – Padme (Ali-Lyn)'s master/teacher.
Etc:
This takes place about two monthes after the ending of ST: BA. In case anyone's wondering – Ali-Lyn's evaluation never took place at Ali-Lyn's request.
***
Ali-Lyn
Part Two
***
Carime watched me from the couch. I ignored her and continued looking at the food in front of me like it would turn into a Kl'ant wolf at any moment.
"It's not going to kill you, Padawan." Carime said to me.
I glared at my master. Carime had to be enjoying this. 'She's deriving pleasure from this.'
"I'm not enjoying this, Ali-Lyn. You are suffering. I do not take pleasure in that." Carime said, walking to the table and sitting across from me.
"You seem to be." I retorted.
"Eat something, Ali-Lyn. You need to eat." Carime said, sternly.
I looked at my plate, picked up a piece of the meat, and bit it. I chewed, shallowed, and looked at Carime, "Happy?"
Carime sighed.
'She's probably disappointed with my behavior.'
"Ali-Lyn, my padawan, you are the first padawan learner I've ever had. I love you as though you were my child. I take no happiness, no pleasure from your pain." She stopped, then began again, "I promised your mother that I would take care of you if anything happened to her." Carime was searching for words, "Your mother was my best friend when I was young, next to Kim. When the empire fell and we were free to truly become knights, your mother fell hopelessly in love with your father. She waited ten years for him. They married, and you and Anakin were their next loves. When you were two, your mother had a vision of her demise. She asked me to protect you, raise you. I will keep that promise – whether you like it or not."
I looked at Carime, "Was there a point to that story?"
Carime sighed again. She reached up and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. She opened it, took out a small round pill, and handed it to me. "Take that. And you'd better swallow."
I glared at my master again and then swallowed the pill. "I'm going to bed." I said, tired of seeing the elder woman.
As I stood up, Carime began to talk again.
"You can sleep in my room tonight, Paddy." She said, using the nickname from my childhood.
I shook my head. Carime already had to put up with me – I didn't want to make her have to pretend to like me. I especially wasn't going to make her have to pretend to want to protect me or comfort me. I maybe a worthless brat with Jedi skills, but I wasn't going to make anyone at the Temple have to cater to me. I continued walking toward my room.
"You misheard me, Padme Amidala. You have to sleep where I can see you. Kim wants me to watch you closely and that means my room or your's. Take your pick."
My anger rose, but I forced it to stay at bay. I went into my room, changed, grabbed my blanket and pillow, and went back into the living space. Carime was sitting on the couch when I walked out.
She smiled at me, mockingly. "Go lay down, Padawan." Carime said, and I obeyed – I wasn't going to be a problem.
I went into Carime's room and laid down on the bed. After putting my head on my pillow and cacooning myself in my blanket, I listened to the sounds of Carime washing the dishes. The clacking of the metal plates in the sink reminded me of my mother. She always purposely made that sound. I had always begged her to not do it because of the noise, but she would just do it more. Now I cried as I heard the sound again. I missed my mother so much it hurt. I tugged the blanket around my neck and buried my face in the pillow.
When Carime came in the room to get her nightclothes from her closet, I willed myself to be quiet. I could feel her displeasure as she walked out of the room and into her adjoining bathroom. As soon as I heard the door shut, I let the tears flow again. Carime hated me. Papa hadn't talked to me all day – not one word. Aunt Leia and Uncle Han had come to see me with my cousins, but they seemed so uncomfortable that I begged Carime to let them leave. I hadn't even cared that Gaeity had heard my babblings about the dark side. It didn't matter anymore. I would never become a Jedi Knight or a Master. I was too stubborn and stupid to be anything in the order of the Jedi. I was nothing.
The door opened making me aware that Carime was about to come back in the room, and I willed myself to be quiet again. Carime laid down next to me, and wrapped her self in her own blanket. She put her arm around me the way mama had when I was very little. I suddenly started to remember calling Carime Auntie when I was younger, but I shut it out. I was nothing. I didn't deserve Carime. I didn't.
I shut my eyes, wanting slumber to take over my body. But sleep never came – instead I cried all night.
The next morning
I watched Carime make breakfast. I was too tired and my red eyes hurt from the tears that I had cried. Carime had tried comforting me at different times during the night, but to no avail.
She was too nice to me. She truly deserved a better padawan – which wasn't me. No one deserved me as his or her padawan. I was useless and boring. I had the most disgustingly pale skin color and my lips were too big and too pink. My nose was ten sizes too big. My hair was too dark for my skin and my eyes were not level with the other. My hands and feet were too small for a Jedi. I was overweight, and I hated myself for every one of my inpurities. I was the ugliest, most annoying person on Coruscant.
"Ali-Lyn." Carime called from the table. She had put a couple pieces of fruit on the plate, along with my pill, and a cup of Lige juice.
I got up from the couch and went to sit in my seat. Carime waited for me to begin eating, but I just nibbled at a strawberry. I rested my head on my head at I nibbled, so Carime wouldn't have to see me.
"Ali-Lyn, look at me." Carime said, but I refused. "Paddy."
I looked up, fearfully, "Yes, master?"
"Why were you crying last night?" She asked.
I panicked, trying to think of a way to explain it, "I dunno." I mumbled.
"Paddy."
"I. Don't. Know. Do you need it to be spelled out?" I said, harshly. I thought Carime was going to hit me for my tone and remark, but she just looked at me.
"Oh, Ali." She said, simplily.
I took the stupid pill, returned to the couch, and grabbed my notebook from underneath it. The leather was soft and it always felt good to run my fingertips over it. Inside, there was entries dateing back to a year after mama's death. Four years were logged in it on the unlined, white pages.
I picked up my pencil and began to write.
Three days later
12:31 pm
The shops
The last three days had blurred by. I barely remembered laying in Carime's bed and crying at all hours of the night. I briefly remembered Kim, and pills. Today however, Carime had brought me to the shopping strip to try and lighten my mood, but after an hour of looking I was just even more tired. Carime had bought me more of my favorite fruit, probably hopeing I would eat something – I'd skipped eating all day, and she'd also bought me a new pair of nightclothes.
Right now though, I was being subjected to having to watch helplessly as Carime tried to make me smile with some toys from the younger children's section. Papa had made sure that was there when the Temple was renovated. Papa had changed some things around here – mostly that young children needed time to play and know an adult outside of a teacher their entire life. That's why padawans are sometimes as young as six or seven.
"Ali-Lyn."
I came out of my thoughts and looked at Carime. She held a stuffed kitten in her hands – much like the one I had before lightsabre training began when I was nine. Anakin had loved destoying my toy.
Carime watched me, as though I would run away if she didn't. She handed her credit to the cashier and handed me the toy. I grabbed for it and held it close to my body. "Macy." I said to the toy, fresh tears soaking the fabric.
Carime put down the bag she had just picked up and hugged me. I just hugged her back. Whether she deserved me or not, I needed to be held. I needed to be held and comforted. I was too tired to object to my conscious or to Carime.
1:15 pm
Papa, T.J., and Gaeity had shown up at our quarters' at about one o' clock, and having just finished crying, I was too tired to argue about them being there. T.J. and Gaeity had gotten out of their classes that day because of me. I had made them worried. I felt like dying when Papa said that. I was responsible for them not learning anything today.
For the last ten minutes, Carime had been sitting behind my cousins playing a computer game – she was sometimes more of the child, then the adult. I was snuggled into Papa, with his arms wrapped around me. For a moment, I felt happy, warm, and safe. Just one moment. Inside, a piece of me begged for more time, and the other half screamed in rage. My mind and body was caught in the middle.
Papa leaned over to whisper to me, "Paddy."
I looked at him.
"I love you." He said, hugging me tighter.
I closed my eyes against the flood of memories. The memories scared me so much. It hurt to see Mama or Anak. It hurt badly.
Soon the memories wouldn't stop and I ran to my room. I couldn't stop the noise in my head. I needed to silence them – but I didn't know how.
5:00 am
I opened my red eyes and looked around. Papa and Carime were asleep on the floor or my room, not covered by a blanket or even pillows under their heads. Papa was on my left and Carime was on my right. I got up, careful not to step on them, and then grabbed my blanket off my bed. I went into the living space and sat down on the floor. Leaning against the wall on the far right, I pulled my notebook out from the space I'd hidden it the day before – under the end of the couch. I opened it to the first page. Papa had asked me to write in it, so my emotions wouldn't stay bottled up anymore – which had helped me connect with the Force.
Papa told me to write in this, so I am. Here are some basic facts about me (just until I can think of something to write about in more detail):
- I am the older of twins. (Padme Amidala & Anakin Benjamin)
- We were born mid-year, three monthes early.
- We were born on the city-planet of Coruscant at a very early hour.
- Our Papa is Luke Skywalker, the son of Queen Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, and our Mama was Padme Elo-aura Skywalker, the daughter of Sashe (Gramma Ami's haidmaiden) & our grandpa – I never met him.
- Mama died a year ago tomorrow.
- Anak turned three years ago yesterday.
There's something to write about. Anakin is a member of the Dark Side. There was a new resistance formed by dark-siders and I assume some one asked him to join. I don't know who, though. I still miss him and am angry with Master Corellise for letting him go. Even Master Corellise had to know – Anak was never away from him.
I slammed the book closed and threw it across the room and straight at Carime. It hit her arm and fell to the ground. I watched her tearfully. She picked it up and looked at the page it had opened up to. Yesterdays.
"I wish I were dead. I wish I could leave everyone, so they wouldn't have to bother with me and wouldn't have to act like they want me." Carime read aloud. "Ali-Lyn, we aren't acting! We genuinely want you around. We enjoy your humor and your personality. We enjoy teaching you. We love you very much."
Luke walked into the room and watched the two. He shook his head at my thoughts – I knew he and Carime heard me, "Paddy."
I looked at him.
"We all love you and need you around." He said, as he sat on the couch. He motioned for me to sit next to him and I did so.
"No you don't. I'm a bad influence. Aunt Leia said so."
Luke laughed, "No, you aren't. She was saying that you are a bad influnce to the younger children, because you enjoy getting into trouble and that you've taught them effective ways to get out of trouble. But you've taught them how to have fun with each other and work together in the process. That's what she meant."
I let him have that one, "Gaeity said you said I was supposed to set an example."
"You do." Carime said.
Papa continued, "Listen to Carime. You have always set an example to the younger children during the times you weren't having fun with them. For example, Gaeity learned to talk whole sentences when she was eleven monthes old, because you wanted to prove she was smart."
"So? She is smart. She would've done it with or without my coaching."
"How about teaching T.J. to pilot the Falcon?"
"Uncle Han wouldn't teach him. He said the Falcon was too old to be piloted and it was out of date. Besides he asked to be teached." I said, feeling calmer then I had in days – Papa and his Jedi suggestions.
"Okay. What about Kim? When he first came to the Temple, he couldn't read or write, as I recall. And if anyone tried to teach him, he'd yell. But someone had the determination to teach him."
"Papa, what can a healer do when he can't read or write? He had to learn." I said, giggling.
'You don't know how nice it is to hear that, Paddy.' Carime thought to me.
'Tell Papa. He's the one with the Jedi suggestions.'
'Not me. Maybe it's the medication?' Papa thought.
"Maybe. Maybe someone sees how much we need her." Carime said, her voice filled witht the love I hadn't seemed to hear in the past week almost.
I smiled. It still hurt deep down, but I was calm and happy sitting with Papa and Carime.
Papa's blue eyes looked into mine, "Why were you so said, Paddy? Was it because you missed your mother or was it Anakin? What was it?"
I sighed, Papa wanted to know. How was I supposed to explain this? "It was a couple of things."
He just watched me.
I looked down, then got up to get my notebook from Carime. She handed it to me, and I opened it to a page. I don't remember when I wrote it, but it had a list of the bad things that happened in my life. I began to speak, "This is a list of the things that happened in my life that weren't very happy." I paused, then began to read off the list, "Mama died. Anak turned. Hayden died in my fight with someone. I killed Anakin. Corellise got away. I didn't watch Kal'sen fell out of the tree because I wasn't watching him." I stopped I couldn't read anymore.
Papa looked at me, lovingly, "Paddy, You weren't responsible for those things. Listen to me, okay?"
I nodded my head. I knew Papa was going to explain these things – and if he could, maybe I was wrong.
He took my notebook, had me sit next to him, and began to explain the first and second things, "Your mother's death was her fate. She knew it. Unless she or I could keep Anakin from turning, it was inevitible. She didn't tell me until our last day that she knew. Anakin turned and your mother was his first casuality." Luke paused, "Anakin was after you, Paddy. Your mother died because she wanted you to live."
"She wanted me to live." I repeated, as though I'd never heard those words before.
Papa went on, "Aunt Leia and Uncle Han have never blamed your for Hayden's death. He died because he was to young to understand to stay away from you and Anakin. He'd always remembered you two playing, I guess he thought he was finally big enough to play with you guys." He looked at my notebook, and then continued, "As for Anakin and Corellise – It was their choice to fight you and Carime. Anakin lost his life yes, but he's with your mother now. He's safe. And the next we meet up with Corellise…" Papa said, in his 'He's-gonna-pay' voice.
I giggled - I'd always loved that voice. I motioned for him to go on. I was watching each memory in my mind. Strange how things are distorted by hate and only become clear when someone reminds you of the truth.
"Ka'lsen fell out of the tree because he lost his grip and the branch he was standing on was to thin for him. Kal'sen's never blamed you for that one. You saved his life, as far as he's concerned. You kept him breathing, while you were waiting for the medics."
"Papa. Kal'sen lost the use of his left side." I said, sad about my young friend. Kal'sen was almost seven when he fell from the tree. He's twelve now, and still dreams of being a Jedi. The healers have great hope in something that would give him the use of his left leg back.
"Yes, but he's learned to go around his disability and he's got more of your determination then anyone else. Kal'sen will be a Jedi, even if he's got to wait a long time. You know, he's actually been making you something in art class. Not even Master Flit is allowed to see it."
I smiled. Papa smiled back.
"Do you believe us now when we say we love you and we need you?"
I shook my head. I was still sad, but I understood they loved me no matter what happened. I reached over to hug Papa, then I hugged Carime. "So, what about the medicine? Do I still have to take it?"
Carime grinned, "Yes. Until I think that you don't need it anymore, you take it."
I moaned. I was going to be on this stuff until I was eighty years old.
---
The end.
I know it's kinda drawn out and stupid, but I was board.
I'm writing an AU of what if Ali-Lyn was more depressed than that and the medications didn't help.
Once again I'd like to say that I have had clinical depression before. I know what it seemed like to me, so this story is based on what I felt happened during that time. I just saw things in a whirlwind. Some days felt slower, but all I remember is distortions in memories and hateful things. This is what I've tried to show. If anyone doesn't agree with my stand on this, I'm very sorry.
Cassie Jamie
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