[A/N: I'm not entirely sure where I'm going to be going with this, other than a romance between our fave Jedi (I won't say who he is yet, you've gotta read and find out bwaha!) and an OC (please try not to beat me to death if she seems a bit Mary Sue, I'm trying to stray from a hopeless romantic type story here!). Knowing my own writing, it'll more than likely be fluffy. Sorry in advance. Not really sure what time in the entire series this is going to be taking place during, but in order for it to work, Ixy has to be the same age as our fave Jedi….. I know that much! Give me credit for that, please! P-l-e-a-s-e!!!! I guess that it's more or less going to be half pre-TPM and then some of it during Episode 3, more or less, I leave it to you to figure out which is which. So, thanks for venturing into my little universe where Jedi can fall in love and all that junk, ya like, than review, ya don't like, then review, and tell me what you dun like, I'd really like some input. ~Teej~]
At night, the Temple seemed to loom on the rest of the city, appearing to the eye even more intimidating than the building which contained the Republic Senate. Not only that, but it seemed ridiculously out of place; a bare building compared to the artsy, rich architecture of the rest of the buildings on Couruscant.
In the Jedi Temple, few are up and about; few are even awake. Out of the few who are left staring into darkness or doing other things, not one is a Knight or a Master; they're too in touch with the Force to be worried about anything at that time of night. Most of the active are busy cleaning, or worrying about some big even that they must face tomorrow. But, as with everything, there is an exception.
One of the active doesn't have a thing in the world to worry about, nor to clean. This person was in the Jedi library, reading away the moments, eventually the seconds, eventually the minutes, eventually the hours. And eventually the entire night. Ixy would rather be reading than sleeping. Something was gained through reading that wasn't accessible through closing your eyes and waiting for night to come. It was pointless to sleep.
At least to her, it wasn't. Almost her entire life was spent in that library, with the scrolls, the books, the records. The much older Jedi who preferred the calm life of cataloging old records to battles filled with rushes of adrenaline. Ixy loved it there. When she had turned thirteen, no one had chosen her as a Padawan, and, rather than being sent off to heal crops for the rest of her life, she chose to waste away in the library.
She didn't want to admit it, but she was wasting away. She lied to herself about it, constantly, told herself that she was doing a duty to the galaxy, just not directly, and that her life was worth it. Any life was valuable to the Force which controlled them all. But, in her heart, she knew that it was pointless. All that she was, and all that most likely ever would be, was a librarian. The one difference between her and the rest of them was that she started the mindless shuffle of cataloging much earlier than the her coworkers had.
Arm growing tired from her chin resting on it, she brought it to her side as she was sitting, absently turning yet another page. The more she thought about it, she didn't come to the library to read, she came there so that she could let her eyes skim over each word, letter and syllable while she thought about the things that she was now missing out on. Another lie that she had told herself many upon many times was that she didn't crave the experiences which the other Jedi were having. In her heart, she knew she was. Despite all the lies that she told herself, her mind usually tended to be clear, as a Jedi's should. If it was because she blocked out everything else because of her denial, or because she was more in touch with the Force than she would accept, she didn't know. Yet another reason for the late night visits to the library- to clear her mind. The majority of the time, when her eyes were skimming over the pages, her mind was clear; she wouldn't even take in those words. But her mind was clear, and no worries had her hear in a knot.
Why she hadn't been chosen as a Padawan, she had never discovered; she had thought, pondered, wondered and pined over the question for hours on end in the first two days after the choosing, but a question had never presented itself. It wasn't that was bad with a light saber; quite the opposite, actually.
In the years of training, once the drills with blast shields and the floating orbs which fired laser blasts at the younglings was no longer enough, the learners had to fight each other. There was no death blows involved, only the mechanics of skills that a fight with a light saber required. Often, the fights were turned into tournaments, so that each of the learners would get a different experience from different fighting techniques; Even at a young age, a distinctive style of combat is unique to each Jedi. The last 'tournament' which she had 'competed' in still, to this day, stood out in her mind, and strongly.
After making it to the final match, she was up against a boy with sandy, almost brown hair and icy blue eyes. Shaking his hand before the match, she had felt the Force itself in the other; never again after that shake had she felt the Force stronger with another being. But, she thought, it may not have been the Force that I felt in him… After the handshake, she shook her head, and switched her light saber on, watching the blue beam shoot up into the air. He did the same, and they circled around, never taking their eyes off each other as they prowled like serene predators; not happy to make the kill but knowing that if they want to eat, they must. Although there wouldn't be any killing that day for them. Finally, tired of the teasing, she came in from the left, and a barrage of strikes followed, sparks igniting from the light sabers' clashing and falling to the floor. The others around them remained silent, only watching, taking note on how each opponent countered a blow, or anticipated the other's defense, and etching these things into their minds for future reference. That was the point of the 'tournaments' after all, even though Master Yoda disliked calling them that and coined the term "demonstrations".
Finally, after five minutes of the intense exchanges of counterstrikes and daring attempts to get inside the others defense, the boy got Ixy off guard, and, instead of bringing his weapon down in a mock blow, kicked her in the gut and sent her to the floor, and brought his light saber down, the blowing blade a mere inch from her neck and face. Yoda nodded his approval; a mercy move rather than a kill.
Switching the blade off, the boy had offered his hand to Ixy to help her up; still trying to catch her breath, she gladly accepted. She reached out her hand, and felt the same surge of energy coming from the other; once on her feet, she let go of his hand quickly and looked away. Not only had she just been beaten, but she sheepishly blushing at the feel of her hand in his. She pushed the thoughts down, and turned back to him, and they bowed to each other, and Yoda announced the winner.
It had been so long ago, however, that Ixy couldn't remember his name, but it wasn't important. All that she knew was that he had been chosen to apprentice a Jedi with a beard, and long hair. Ixy had never been good with names.
Regardless, she had lost, but she was still quite good with a light saber. And, as much as it didn't show in her, she was in touch with the Force, to a high degree. With her skills, she had thought that she would get chosen quickly, but she hadn't. And, any JedI who isn't chosen is sent to systems where the crops are suffering to heal the plants; rather than do that, she had asked Master Yoda if it was alright for her to stay on and help at the library. And that was how she got where she was that night. Thinking back on it, she didn't regret any of the aspects of her life.
But isn't that the lie that any person told themselves when they did?