A.N.: This is different than the previous part 5, just because I was sitting in class going, Wow, the next section will be far too short, and this is already far too off topic, hence, the addition to the end, and a name change.

******

How the house seemed so suddenly alive again in the days after Rune first spoke with me! For the first time in years, Mother's laughter filtered through the halls from Jal's room, where our visitor would smile slightly in encouragement at my mother's stories. Mother insisted on removing the woman's bandages, assisting her with bathing, brushing her hair, and whispering and laughing conspiratorially as she mended the other's torn clothes despite Rune's subdued objections. I would ask Mother what she always spoke about with Rune, seldom hiding the hurt that she could never share those things with me. She smiled just like the warrior, patted my head, and replied, "Woman things."

When she could walk again, Mother would assist her to the library adjacent Father's study. For a few hours in the morning, Father would emerge, sitting next to her on the low-slung couch, and read. They wouldn't speak, but often, when Father brought her to the kitchen for lunch, they conveyed a look that could only be had between two that shared complete understanding.

But then, at night, that was my time, mine only, when my parents were asleep, and we would sit and talk until I alone would end the conversation and go to my room, often finding my way by the first light of dawn. At first, it was hard to speak at all, much less ask her the questions that had always plagued me. I thought her offer was false, just another way to goad me into divulging my weaknesses. Yet she was patient as I found my courage, and soon I was bringing her techniques I had taken from books, having her explain the more vague ideas and philosophies. Sometimes, I would just listen to her talk. Rune was as knowledgeable as any Jedi Master, with the flexibility and diversity I would have never found in the Temple.

A month passed. Autumn had faded into a mild winter. The pale woman was on the floor, sitting with her back to the fire, the flickering light haloed around her figure, any wounds she might have had all but fine marks against her flesh. I was lying across her bed, staring at the thatched ceiling, my hands clasped behind my head. If I leaned my head back just so, I could have looked into her eyes. I swallowed, and cleared my throat. I wasn't that bold.

"So, how did you…" I found I couldn't finish my question. Luckily, she felt no such constraints.

"How did I choose my path?" She took a deep breath, the mats rustling just slightly as she shifted from her knees. "Master Na'al asked me the same thing-"

"When did you talk to my father about that?" I rushed out, rising onto my side faster than I comprehended the movement, resting my chin on my palm to look at Rune.

She raised a hand, ending the string of questions that hung in the air before I could put voice to them. "The morning after, many weeks ago. You were sleeping."

I tried to hide the frown that crossed my features, quickly ducking my head to rest on my outstretched arm. I had wanted to be the first. The first to know who she was. I just didn't know it at the time.

Pausing to make sure I had no more questions, she continued. "I told him that I did not choose my path. It chose me. At the time, there was no other option. Sometimes, we are forced into our roles in life, and we have no control over it at all. Would you not agree?"

I nodded mutely, too stunned to say much of anything at all. She felt the same as I did, unable to dictate the exceptions in her life, thrown into something she never agreed to have. I wanted to tell her that I knew exactly how that was, to be gifted but powerless. I wanted to tell her a lot of things, but all that came out was, "Sure."

He was disappointed that I spoke with the elder first, but I never set out to hide anything from the family. After all, my life was theirs now. It was Ashton's. He had accepted it, and I would hide nothing in my knowledge, as long as he was ready for the answers, as long as he asked. I always let him approach. Eager to learn, yet quick to close himself to me, he was such a wonderful enigma, and I had not been surprised in quite some time.

"Sure," he answered, hiding his face against the bed. It was so uncharacteristic of me, but I slid forward, leaning next to him against the pallet, watching the auburn hair that fell just over the edge of the blanket in spiky strands. He tensed, then moved his head away just slightly, bringing his hand up to tangle in his hair.

"When I was very small, I lived far away. No one remembers the planet now, and you would not know it. When my family died, I moved to Coruscant." I sighed, pausing at the memory. "Have you ever been there?"

"No," Ashton answered quickly enough.

"Of course, probably not. There are lower levels, below the surface buildings. Even below the Jedi Temple, there are sewers and streets. People live there, more aliens even than live above, but…" I took a breath, realizing my voice had dropped to a low whisper. "No one should have to live there, especially not alone."

He had turned, sometime, to watch me out of the corner of his eye, his hand half covering his face, the rest of his body still leaning away from me.

"I was found and trained, and there was no other way that it could have happened. There was no other way to keep my promises."

Silence met me, although I never expected a response. Ashton did not turn away, but kept staring at me from over his fingers.

"Why?" he murmured after a while, after I had been watching the embers of the fire burn down to the last log. "Why did you kill my brother?"

It was an unexpected question. From anyone else, it would have been baited, the last utterance from clenched teeth before an act of revenge. All I felt from the boy was a yearning for truth, a closure. So I told him, as well as I could. After all, some answers, he would never be ready to hear.

"I was ordered to kill his Master and when the Master, so the Apprentice. It is a liability otherwise; the emotional ties are too strong. Only, Jal escaped, and left the Jedi order, to come here, to Rytiine."

He whispered, "Oh."

"I think it was important for him to feel he had accomplished something. He defended you until the end."

Ashton merely nodded, sitting up. It was the end of the conversation.

In my life, I had never found myself rambling about my childhood. It was never a topic for discussion or explanation, but I felt oddly compelled to tell the boy. As I watched him leave, his eyes cast to the floor, I could see why Jal would give his life to protect Ashton. He was still so innocent, so naïve as to the outside world. I resolved then that I would do the same. I would never again hurt him or his family.

I didn't sleep. Not at all. I could only think about what Rune hadn't said, when she spoke to me, her unintentional pauses and stresses more telling than anything, even though I absorbed everything. For some reason, I felt I wanted to hear the same hesitation concerning Jal, as if she had regrets, knowing my family now. I guess I wanted to think it was something horrible my brother had to account for, to make the woman track him down, or maybe something I had missed, like some heroic nature that made him a threat. I'm not sure what I wanted. He left the order after his Master died. Father was never clear on much when it came to the main Temple, but I was sure they would never throw you out because you were too young to fight back. Rune never said he ran, but that's what he did, didn't he? Surely he knew it wasn't the end when he came here? Why did he come, and become my brother again, just to die? How could she speak so matter-of-factly about death, and hold so much pain for her past? She was ordered, and said it so easily, that I had no doubt she completed her acts without question. It certainly wasn't the first time, either. When I saw her, I was going to let her know. I would show her how it hurt me, how I was still angry. How I didn't care that she tried to diffuse my pain by telling me how my brother defended me. It was just a stupid crush anyways, I should hate her. The story about Jal wasn't true. I should hate her.

At first light, I dragged myself from bed and down the loft stairs to the washroom across the hall. When I emerged, still wrapped in the haze of sleeplessness, I heard footsteps from the library and stepped into the hall, to greet my father. Seeing he wasn't alone, I paused.

Rune was smiling, smiling at Father, and his hand was on the shoulder nearest him as they walked in stride, stopping just short of the washroom as I ducked back inside.

"I appreciate your generosity, Master Na'al. It is a hard decision to make, especially given the circumstances," she said softly. Ever since her arrival, she refused to call my father by his first name, insisting on his respectful title.

From my hiding place, I could see Father clap her shoulder and nod.

"Are you going to tell him?" Rune asked, her smile fading. Father shook his head. "I understand. He has so much on his mind, already."

She was rolling up the sleeves of her outer tunic, pulling the black fabric away from her scared forearms, although even the worst of those had faded in the past week. I didn't have time to think as she rounded the corner. Panicking, I tried to leave at the same time, before she caught me watching, only to run solidly into her turned shoulder as she ducked under the curtain separating the basins from the hall. I stumbled backwards, dazed. But even that couldn't keep back the heat I could feel rapidly flushing to my face.

"Oh, I'm, uh," I stammered while she stood in the doorway, one white brow raised at the unexpected meeting in the bathroom, of all places.

There was no anger when she finally said, "You were listening?"

"I, uh." My face could not have gotten any redder as I scratched listlessly behind my ear. "I'm so sorry. I was leaving, and you were coming out of the library, but you looked so happy that I didn't want to interrupt you, so I, uh…" It all came out in a rush before I could control it.

The woman merely brushed around me, submerging her hands in a half-filled basin and began to wash. There was no way I could ask what they were talking about. No way would I dare try to take advantage of Rune's honesty by asking about her and Father's affairs, even if they were discussing me. I was grown now. I could handle it like an adult.

"You aren't going to leave, are you?" rushed out, my mouth working faster than my mind. Grown-up, indeed.

She shook off her hands, reaching for a towel to dry her arms, and smiled in that disarmingly mysterious way before taking my shoulder, leading me from the bathroom. "Breakfast, Ashton," she breathed, her pale hand squeezing my arm before pushing me gently into the kitchen. I should hate her, but right then, I realized my world would crumble if she ever left me. I had fallen in love.

Two mornings later, Father came to my room and handed me a tightly wrapped package. With tears in my eyes, I clutched the gift to my chest, knowing what such an offering meant, embracing him as he smiled. I was far too old to cry, much less to show such tears of joy in front of Rune as Father led me into the meadow where the female warrior waited. Now, it seemed like it was far too formal a thing for such an informal relationship, but it was my father's way of acceptance. There were no words, not for my joy as I smiled in turn at Father and then the tall woman before me. Mother hugged me, wiping at her own tears as she served dinner at dusk. With a nod from Rune, I slipped away to my bed. Exhausted from the day, I fell asleep quickly, a smile on my face, and my beloved brother's lightsaber still in my hand, knowing when I woke up, it would be so much better. I was going to be a Jedi, and Rune had agreed to be my teacher.

******

Autumn turned to Winter. The cold melted, and turned to Spring. I had never lived on a planet with seasons.

Training was easier after I found that Jal had been teaching Ashton things on the side, with the younger boy supplementing that with pieces he dredged from the library. The first day, he came to my room before dawn, and asked how he would learn swordplay when I had no saber. I smiled then, not feeling the expression in the least, and we began.

One never starts with a sword in hand. It is absurd, like an infant leaping and running before able to walk on its own. I also never differentiated between Light and Dark techniques. Techniques are just that. They have no orientation. When they are wielded by the user, that is when the difference is made. Ashton never had a problem with that, either.

I would not touch a lightsaber, no matter how much Ashton worried over that aspect. The promise haunted me, since I was the one to ask his father to allow the boy to be tutored and apprenticed. To remain faithful to myself, to everything that caused me to leave and be reborn, and yet make the child into something that would not be afraid of what the Universe held. I tried to remain honest, but still I supposed it was too soon for many things. It could have been the scared child in me. I thought he was too young. How hypocritical and selfish. Yet still, I wanted to believe in everything I told myself. I was different. I had changed. I could make Ashton into the person I had wanted to be, the people I had admired so many years ago as I sat in the shadow of the Jedi Temple, small, afraid. Pacifism. Could it really be done? Could I do it? At night, just before I went to sleep, I hated myself immensely.

I said as much to the elder, that I promised to someone, somewhere, that I would not fight. His wife explained, when he merely nodded, that I would not be fighting, not that way, and that one always needed to know how to defend, even if it was so that one could keep from fighting. I felt better, a little, and taught the teen in the same method my father had taught me. Even if they lacked the charge a training saber could carry, getting hit with wooden swords was quite enough deterrent. He made rapid progress. By the end of the Summer, he was able to keep up with me.

When his father died, I think I expected him to retreat into himself. He never forgot his brother, though he spoke about the late Apprentice with ease. I knew the Master was sick, told him as much on our first silent visit together in the library. He was expecting it. The illness was swift, but to Ashton's knowledge, unavoidable and, in a sense, natural. So I told him, afterwards. He took it well, nodding gravely, then went outside to practice his katas.

I blame myself for thinking that it would go on like that forever. It was stupid and blind of me, living in the peace of that family. I wanted to hide in it to the point of almost encouraging the looks Ashton gave me at first when he thought I had turned away, to the tentative trust he showed near the end. I remembered loyalty and blind devotion, so it was my fault that I had forgotten the crushing blow to have it taken away.

Again, it was Autumn, although, without the elder's help at the beginning of the season, the crop was much smaller as we gathered it, though it never dampened the other twos' spirits. If anything, Ashton had gotten closer to his mother, after I told him all she really wanted was someone to understand her. Early in the evening, I left them alone in the kitchen, retreating to the library.

Ashton was waiting for me at the door, grinning. He was almost as tall as I was, then; he had grown so much in just two years. His hair was longer, pulled back like his father always kept his, with a pin at the back. Soon, I would not be able to find a reason…

"Hey, I have something to show you," he said and grabbed my hand before I could ask what it was, pulling me behind him up the stairs to his room. The boy shoved me to his window just as quickly. "See? Isn't that cool?"

In the distance, a storm was approaching just beyond the reach of the forest, a column of clouds extending into the black of the night, blocking the bluish glow of Rytiine's second moon. The larger, first moon loomed high in the sky, the storm threatening to overcome it as well. The third moon was already setting.

"They say it's a bad omen, when all three moons are full for a Solstice," Ashton whispered behind me.

"I think it is beautiful."

He took a step towards me, his eyes still turned towards the storm. "So are you, you know, in exactly the same way."

I have never been at a loss for words as I was at that moment. Before I could respond, he was grinning, a blush spreading over his cheeks. "Hey, you promised we could spar after dinner, remember?"

"I…I did?"

He nodded. "What do I get if I win?" He had crouched and raised his hands in an offensive maneuver, striking before he finished the question. Grabbing his wrist before his fist reached my throat, I stepped to the side.

"You can decide…if you win."

We fought for a few minutes and I gained ground steadily before he spoke again in bursts between the punches. "I'm glad…I can trust you…" He blocked a kick with his forearms. "I mean…I feel like you've always… been honest unlike…other people…Am I right?" His weight shifted forward unchecked and I spun under his outstretched arm. The floor shook when he landed, and he frowned.

"Pay attention, Ashton, and stop talking," I scolded as he pulled himself to his hands and knees. I saw his smirk before the kick, catching his foot between my hands almost too late and twisted to drop him to the ground again. Again, I heard his laughter, the heel of his other foot snapping into my jaw as he pushed himself forwards, landing with his knee on my arm. He smiled, kneeling over me, his hands on my shoulders.

"Wow. I guess I won," he said without conviction. Like his pulse that beat through his palms where they grasped my shoulders, his breathing was erratic and forced. "I get anything, right?"

I tried to turn my head, but I could only just see his chin. "I said you could decide."

"Then," he took a deep, determined breath. "I want…"

"Hurry up. My hand is going numb."

His knee shifted backwards, but that was all. "Rune, I…I want you to stay. Tonight, just tonight. And just…in the room. Please, I don't want to be alone. It feels strange. I feel…anxious, and…"

I could hear his mouth moving, but nothing came out.

"Ashton?"

His breathing stopped.

"Just for tonight."

When he leaned down and kissed me, I found I did not have the heart to push him away.