"Mara?" I walked
into the apartment, searching for my fiancée.
"Mara? Where are you?"
I found her on the balcony, staring out at the lights of
Coruscant. "Mara?"
Her back was to me, and her arms were folded—not, I
realized, crossed like they usually were.
She was hugging herself as though she were cold, although it was a
pleasantly warm evening. "Mara? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Her
voice was almost unrecognizable, twisted and strangled. And she was not fine, despite what she said.
"Mara, honestly, what's wrong?"
She turned to face me, and there was a pinched look in her
face, as though she was trying to keep from saying something. She shook her head. "Luke, it's… it's nothing, okay? Just… nothing."
I frowned at her.
"Mara, you're upset about something.
I don't know what, and I don't know why, but I hate seeing you
unhappy. Just tell me."
She turned back out to look at the lights of Coruscant. "That… that meeting with the press that Leia
set up," she said finally. "Their questions,
their attitudes, they made me feel worthless.
Everything they said seemed to be designed to make me feel like I didn't
deserve…" She trailed off.
"Deserve what, love?" I asked her softly.
She sighed. "Deserve
my powers. Deserve that pardon I was
granted after Wayland for serving the Emperor.
And most of all, deserve you."
There was an expression in her face that was hard to read per se, but
with the sense of her mind…
"Mara, don't let anyone convince you of that," I said
firmly. Then my face and tone
softened. "I love you, Mara, more than
anything else. More than you could
possibly know."
She studied my face in the twilight. "Luke… Luke, thank you. I was feeling awful about myself, about
everything. I… I was doing okay with
the reporters until one of them brought up Callista. They spent so long in that vein, asking me if I really thought
the Emperor's Hand was a better match for a Jedi Master than a Jedi like her."
I took her into my arms, and she wrapped her arms around my
neck, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Mara, it doesn't matter what the reporters say. I love you, and I want to be with you, and
if they don't like the idea, they can take their opinions and stuff them in
impolite places, because their opinions don't matter."
Mara turned her head slightly and buried her face in the
crook of my neck. I stroked her hair
gently, and opened our Force bond as wide as I could, sending all the love and
support and care I felt.
After a few seconds, she pulled her face up, and looked me
in the eye. "I love you, Luke," she
murmured.
"I love you too, Mara."
