See other chapters for commentary, disclaimers, etc.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buckling Serenity
Slowly Raven became aware of the great pain that seemed to exist in every part of her body. Her arms and legs ached, her back was sore, and her face hurt beyond words, especially her jaw, which bloomed with more fiery agony when she moved it. The Jedi became aware of the tile beneath her cheek, warm from her own body heat. She was lying on her stomach, her dark hair streamed all around her head carelessly, blocking her view. A cough escaped from her lips, sounding very feeble to her own ears, and then she felt dampness on her lips.
Extracting a hand from somewhere below her, Raven ran her fingers along her mouth, feeling something warm and sticky there. Pulling her hand back to look at it, she saw a red, sticky substance on them. Gently, the Jedi rubbed her fingers together. Blood. There was blood on her hands and in her mouth.
Raven stood swiftly, despite the protest from her mind, all of the past events coming to her with startling clarity. Then, her vision swam, clouded by gray nothingness. She felt light-headed and nauseous, proceeding to half-fall, half-lower herself back to the floor. The metallic taste of blood was now in her mouth, part of her awareness, as she attempted not to pass out again. Her head was tucked between her legs as she was braced against the wall, her legs bent before her. The Jedi Knight felt completely helpless.
Not sure how long she sat there, her hands on her forehead, inadvertently smearing her own blood in her hair, sitting in a small pool of it as well, Raven tried to piece back together her fragmented thoughts. She knew that Nat was long since gone, regardless of how little time might have passed with her incapacitated on the floor. He would have taken his advantage, gathered whatever it was that he wanted from his rooms, and escaped with all haste.
Raven ran her fingers along the side of her face at her jaw line, feeling the swollen and tender skin. It was probably bruised, a nice purple blotch on the side of her face to remind her, at least for a while, of her epic last encounter with her partner. Carefully she stood for the second time, leaning against the wall for the dizziness to subside. It was neither as strong nor as lasting, so Raven was soon on her way down the hall.
Discovering that moving quickly was hazardous to her shaky awareness, the Jedi Knight began to wonder what exactly Nat had done. Granted, he had hit her pretty soundly, but it didn't seem to merit this extensive of a reaction from her. Then again, with any sort of knowledge of medicine beyond Raven's very limited store could make it easy for him to feed her something. Sighing in annoyance – he knew her every flaw and limitation! – Raven promised herself to ask Elep, as well as regretting the sigh. Her world seemed very unstable at the moment.
A padawan was walking down the main hallway. He stopped at the sight of her, looking quite surprised and very concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked. Raven glanced at him, the quick turn of her head making her vision swim again. Suddenly, she felt entirely too warm. Her thoughts scattered as she tried to formulate a coherent response. Instead, the Knight found herself on her knees, the padawan towering over her, helping her to lie on the floor. He was shouting something, but the words didn't make sense. But it no longer seemed important.
***
"What do you mean, he's gone? A Jedi Knight can't go around accosting people The Council is not dealing with it as they should."
Elep shrugged helplessly, obviously agreeing with the Jedi Master, even though she didn't verbalize it. "I don't know what to tell you, Master Shioc," she replied. A groan came from the infirmary cot where Raven lay, still unconscious and obviously in discomfort. Both women glanced at the cot, and Elep moved to place a cool hand against her friend's forehead, as well as check her pulse.
"What did you say she ate?" Daré asked in clipped tones. Fear and concern could be heard in the master's voice, although she tried to hide the emotions.
"It was fenna. We keep it in the infirmary in packets because it helps to subdue patients. Kind of like an anesthetic that calms and dulls the pain for emergency situations such as transporting someone here. The scent is enough to take the hysterical edge off someone and allow for the Healers to deal with him. It can be fatal if it's ingested, even small amounts. That would explain the disorientation that Aidan described. I can't help but wonder where she was before he found her."
"And the Council sits on their good-for-nothing asses," Daré spat back. "She could be dead by now if she hadn't staggered from wherever it was that he dragged her only to be found by some hapless padawan. Now, that bastard is gone while Raven is here, sick as a bantha, running amuck on the streets of Coruscant."
Elep sighed. "Calm yourself. Getting angry will do nothing except invoke the sacred sayings of Yoda," the Twi'lek replied, a wry grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.
The Jedi Master growled quietly, her displeasure plain. "That doesn't change the fact that Nathaniel will have had enough time to go to the Outer Rim and back before the Council decides to investigate the case. And speaking of things that the Council won't discuss, how is Emrys? Any change?"
One of Elep's lekku twitched in a noncommittal gesture, although her face remained blank. "He hasn't changed. If we take him off the sedatives, his heartbeat shoots to dangerous levels, and he hyperventilates. He's completely unresponsive at this point, though. I'm afraid he's slowly slipping away."
Daré exhaled slowly, putting her hands in her sleeves in a familiar gesture. "Then I suppose all we can do is wait," she replied finally. "Maybe Raven can help him. Or maybe this is the will of the Force."
The Healer shivered at Daré's cool, calm voice. "You know, I think I like you better when you are screaming and irate," Elep said, looking at Raven. She glanced to her master, who merely smiled an enigmatic smile. "So why don't you talk to the Council? Your word holds great weight among them."
"I will, in good time, my dear Elep," Master Shioc replied, her smile becoming more of a baring of teeth. "The Council knows I have claws which I am not afraid to show. Besides, I wouldn't want them to start judging people by outward appearances. The smaller I am, the harder I rake with them. They swear I am Corellian."
Elep chuckled. "I'm sure you are, Master Shioc. I'm sure you are." The red-haired Jedi bowed to the Twi'lek, taking her leave, and Elep returned the gesture. Then, she sat down in a chair near the end of Raven's bed to watch and wait.
***
For the second time, Raven awoke with agony. Her head ached, as well as her middle. Dimly, she was aware of the bedding over her, a sheet and a blanket, that seemed twisted around her arms and legs. She shifted, attempting to untangle herself, only to discover that that minor attempt left her feeling weak. The Jedi Knight felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember feeling. Taking her time, she worked to untangle the bedding from her. Something nagged at the back of her awareness, something that demanded immediate attention.
The floor was cold against her feet, but Raven ignored it. She was grateful to discover that the nausea that had accompanied her previous attempt at movement was gone, and the dark-haired Jedi made her way down to the end of the bed and across the room to the hallway. Leaning against the door jam for a moment to collect her breath and her thoughts, she peered out. The hall was empty, with only a few open doors marking differences in the hall.
Raven moved beyond her own room. She decided to see if Elep was on duty, figuring that she had no better ideas. However, once she was about halfway down the hall, Raven was out of breath and not as confident that this was the best decision. Elep's appearance in the hallway saved the Jedi the effort of making a decision of whether to press on or go back to her room.
The Healer's reaction was rather predictable, Raven had to admit, when Elep promptly yelled at her. "Get back to your room! Do you think it was easy to bring you back to the land of the living?" The Twi'lek gestured in annoyance, pointing towards Raven's room.
Raven cringed, the shout echoing painfully within her head. "Send me back to wherever I was," she moaned in response, a bit melodramatically. Elep sighed eloquently in frustration and sidled up next to Raven, slipping her arm underneath her friend's to help support the Knight. "Why am I so weak, Elep?" she asked the Healer, a note of fear in her voice. "I was in prime condition just yesterday."
The pair moved back along the hallway as Elep tossed her friend a slightly amused look. "Your shoulder was injured, and that was four days ago." As impassive as Raven's face remained, her shock was betrayed by a stumble that, if it weren't for Elep's arm, would have sent her crashing to the floor.
"Four days?" Raven's knees buckled beneath her, and Elep held her from hitting the tiles. Carefully, the Healer eased her back to her feet.
"That's why you're so weak," Elep explained. "You haven't had solid food since the tournament, and you were hell bent on ripping out your IV every time we tried to place one in your arm, even when you were unconscious. You have the marks on your arms to prove it. The tournament was four days ago, and much has happened since then. Your master has been giving the Council her wrath. Nat is gone."
They arrived back at Raven's room, where Elep deposited her on the infirmary bed, finding a blanket to drape over her shoulders. Raven drew her legs up to sit cross-legged as her friend perched on the end of the bed. "I knew Nat would be gone," she shrugged slightly, pulling the blanket closer to herself, "but at least he is gone now. That is a taint the Temple can live without." A ghost of a grin appeared around her lips, a hopeful light appearing in her eyes. "How is Emrys?"
Elep's expression altered slightly, and she shifted to stand, her arms crossed before her. The Healer took a deep breath, and Raven watched as her features smoothed. Her lekku twitched a little before stilling against her back. "Elep? What's wrong?" Raven asked, her tone pressing for information. Fear settled itself into a knot in her stomach, and she knew what the answer would be.
"Ven," Elep said slowly, turning to look her friend in the eye, "Emrys has become one with the Force. He left us two nights ago, slipped away without us hardly noticed. One moment, he was breathing calmly, his heartbeat steady, and then…" She spread her arms apart then dropped them to her sides. The Healer didn't continue; she didn't have to. There were no words, really.
Raven broke Elep's gaze to look at some indeterminate point on the blanket that was on her bed. Amorphous thoughts formed in her mind, splintered images of the little boy who had been so concerned about learning to fight, the look of terror on his face, emotions that came to mind about him. It was strange, since Raven had known him so little time, but she felt akin to the uncertainty that had plagued him. His fears had been her own, and she had loved him for it, for having the courage to face them. And that boy was now gone, a causality to a war he hadn't even been asked to participate in. Raven swallowed, seeing his face again, his light brown hair and incredibly deep, liquid brown eyes, feeling a lump in her throat.
"Raven…" Elep said hesitantly, reaching out to touch the Jedi Knight.
She moved away. "Go away," Raven replied quietly. "Please go away." Elep moved a little, indecision clear on her face. Then, the Knight turned to the Healer, her eyes blazing with anger, but moreso with grief, and yelled with all her strength, "GO! Leave me alone!" With a sad shake of her head, the Healer left, and Raven drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and burying her head, her whole bodying shaking.
***
Raven was aware of the profound silence that seemed to hang in her small room. She pulled the blanket more onto her shoulders, distractedly, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. The Jedi knew she needed something to ground her back in reality, to pull her away from her reeling emotions, but there was nothing at the moment. Her world seemed to have come crashing down around her in a matter of days. An initiate that she had taken under her wing lay dead by her partner, who had fled the Temple because of his underhanded dealings.
Guilt struck her with full force as she remembered Elep's warning about Nathaniel. She had sensed it, seen the trouble he would cause on some level, and she had known that he would leave pain in his wake. But Raven, someone who should have known him exceedingly well, hadn't sensed it at all, defending him until he had betrayed Emrys at the advantage she had given him!
Some Jedi she was. To defend peace and justice in the galaxy was her call, but as far as the dark-haired woman could tell, she had done little to facilitate that. Her blundering had only set that goal back, allowing one soul to die and another tainted one to wreck his whims upon the galaxy.
Raven shifted, wrapping the blanket around her torso, draping around her like her cloak, and lying on her side, facing the wall. The Jedi closed her eyes, feeling pain wash over her to mingle with the guilt. All she could see was his face, the look of uncertainty and fear that had crossed his face when he confessed that he was afraid of being a failure. Then, it was superimposed over his look of unadulterated fear as Nat advanced on him.
I tried to save you, but it wasn't enough.
A lump came to her throat again, and Raven felt her eyes tear beneath her eyelids. They fluttered open, the green marred by the liquid that gathered along her lower eyelashes until they could hold no more, splattering down her face and across the bridge of her nose, where they hung before falling to the bed covers.
Time passed, and Raven lay motionless on the bed. Her eyes were half-closed, focused on nothing that was visible within the room. In her mind, and in her heart, she was recording everything she could of Emrys Teve, every look he had given her, every emotion she had sensed from him, every expression and word he had given her, his stances in fighting, his vocal inflections. Every nuance that made Emrys what he had been, the kind of person he was, she burned it into her memory and onto her heart. Raven vowed to herself that no other Jedi would die at her hand, and that vow came from her even more solemn promise to honor the memory of that little brown-haired, brown-eyed boy who had trusted her.
Something within her changed as she worked to emblazon his memory into hers, and she felt herself grow older, having learned something, although she couldn't put the specifics into words. Her responsibilities were often things she didn't even consider, and every move she made held countless implications for those around her. Her actions had effects which she had to consider, moves to plot and ripples to plan for.
Raven also instinctively knew that it would be a long time before she could speak the name of Emrys Teve again. His memory was locked safe within her, and it was a deep and difficult wound, one that would not heal well or swiftly. His life was a steep price to have paid for what lesson she was to have learned from this. But it was a mistake she had no intentions of repeating.
Not again, she avowed to herself, I will protect my kindred, individuals who are my family, those that I love, even if my own life is necessary. I will not let another die if it is within my power to save him
***
The days slid into weeks as Elep kept a careful eye on her friend. Raven, after the initial shock, seemed to take Emrys death surprisingly well, although the Healer privately suspected that it was at least partially an act. Her friend had grown quiet since the death of the initiate, something that Elep hadn't noticed before. Raven was usually quick to remark on something, even were the remark scathing, but now she hesitated, seeming to consider every word, every movement. The Jedi was more cautious now, and for some reason it make Elep somewhat nervous.
The weeks also brought ongoing wars between Daré and her friends on the Council. The Jedi Master made it her personal mission to make them discuss what had occurred with Nathaniel, but their philosophy seemed to remain that, given his absence, it was no longer an issue. Master Shioc pursued the Council doggedly for three solid weeks, devoting every spare moment to harassing them about the issue. Still, they wouldn't listen, citing strife in the Senate. It seemed the situation was merely going to collect dust, since the Council opined that there was no situation to begin with. At least, not any more.
Still, the Healer knew that something was afoot. Occasionally, Elep would follow her friend, making sure she was all right, to see her go to one of the practice rooms, always the same one, and kneel. Unsure whether she was meditating, Elep watched the first time as her friend knelt in the empty room for nearly an hour, facing away from the mostly closed door. She sat completely motionless for that time, studying something that was beyond Elep's capacities to grasp.
Daré eventually gave up on the Council. Elep noticed a marked difference in her, although it made more sense. Prone to bouts of seeing shadows of the future, the Jedi Master became brooding, always thoughtful. The Twi'lek presumed it had to do with the initiate whose ashes now lay in the Hall of Remembrance and her former padawan who trailed quietly through the Temple halls.
And the halls were quiet. Elep observed Raven from afar, making sure that the Knight was really okay, as she put forth. She trailed her master to see what she could learn that way. She watched as Raven stood up straight, kept her eyes dry and her chin up. This display made Elep slightly afraid, that outwardly, Raven coped well.
But every once in a while, the Healer would find her friend staring out over Coruscant from one of the large picture windows in the Temple, her cheek or her hand pressed against the glass. And although she couldn't say why, that frightened Elep most of all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buckling Serenity
Slowly Raven became aware of the great pain that seemed to exist in every part of her body. Her arms and legs ached, her back was sore, and her face hurt beyond words, especially her jaw, which bloomed with more fiery agony when she moved it. The Jedi became aware of the tile beneath her cheek, warm from her own body heat. She was lying on her stomach, her dark hair streamed all around her head carelessly, blocking her view. A cough escaped from her lips, sounding very feeble to her own ears, and then she felt dampness on her lips.
Extracting a hand from somewhere below her, Raven ran her fingers along her mouth, feeling something warm and sticky there. Pulling her hand back to look at it, she saw a red, sticky substance on them. Gently, the Jedi rubbed her fingers together. Blood. There was blood on her hands and in her mouth.
Raven stood swiftly, despite the protest from her mind, all of the past events coming to her with startling clarity. Then, her vision swam, clouded by gray nothingness. She felt light-headed and nauseous, proceeding to half-fall, half-lower herself back to the floor. The metallic taste of blood was now in her mouth, part of her awareness, as she attempted not to pass out again. Her head was tucked between her legs as she was braced against the wall, her legs bent before her. The Jedi Knight felt completely helpless.
Not sure how long she sat there, her hands on her forehead, inadvertently smearing her own blood in her hair, sitting in a small pool of it as well, Raven tried to piece back together her fragmented thoughts. She knew that Nat was long since gone, regardless of how little time might have passed with her incapacitated on the floor. He would have taken his advantage, gathered whatever it was that he wanted from his rooms, and escaped with all haste.
Raven ran her fingers along the side of her face at her jaw line, feeling the swollen and tender skin. It was probably bruised, a nice purple blotch on the side of her face to remind her, at least for a while, of her epic last encounter with her partner. Carefully she stood for the second time, leaning against the wall for the dizziness to subside. It was neither as strong nor as lasting, so Raven was soon on her way down the hall.
Discovering that moving quickly was hazardous to her shaky awareness, the Jedi Knight began to wonder what exactly Nat had done. Granted, he had hit her pretty soundly, but it didn't seem to merit this extensive of a reaction from her. Then again, with any sort of knowledge of medicine beyond Raven's very limited store could make it easy for him to feed her something. Sighing in annoyance – he knew her every flaw and limitation! – Raven promised herself to ask Elep, as well as regretting the sigh. Her world seemed very unstable at the moment.
A padawan was walking down the main hallway. He stopped at the sight of her, looking quite surprised and very concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked. Raven glanced at him, the quick turn of her head making her vision swim again. Suddenly, she felt entirely too warm. Her thoughts scattered as she tried to formulate a coherent response. Instead, the Knight found herself on her knees, the padawan towering over her, helping her to lie on the floor. He was shouting something, but the words didn't make sense. But it no longer seemed important.
***
"What do you mean, he's gone? A Jedi Knight can't go around accosting people The Council is not dealing with it as they should."
Elep shrugged helplessly, obviously agreeing with the Jedi Master, even though she didn't verbalize it. "I don't know what to tell you, Master Shioc," she replied. A groan came from the infirmary cot where Raven lay, still unconscious and obviously in discomfort. Both women glanced at the cot, and Elep moved to place a cool hand against her friend's forehead, as well as check her pulse.
"What did you say she ate?" Daré asked in clipped tones. Fear and concern could be heard in the master's voice, although she tried to hide the emotions.
"It was fenna. We keep it in the infirmary in packets because it helps to subdue patients. Kind of like an anesthetic that calms and dulls the pain for emergency situations such as transporting someone here. The scent is enough to take the hysterical edge off someone and allow for the Healers to deal with him. It can be fatal if it's ingested, even small amounts. That would explain the disorientation that Aidan described. I can't help but wonder where she was before he found her."
"And the Council sits on their good-for-nothing asses," Daré spat back. "She could be dead by now if she hadn't staggered from wherever it was that he dragged her only to be found by some hapless padawan. Now, that bastard is gone while Raven is here, sick as a bantha, running amuck on the streets of Coruscant."
Elep sighed. "Calm yourself. Getting angry will do nothing except invoke the sacred sayings of Yoda," the Twi'lek replied, a wry grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.
The Jedi Master growled quietly, her displeasure plain. "That doesn't change the fact that Nathaniel will have had enough time to go to the Outer Rim and back before the Council decides to investigate the case. And speaking of things that the Council won't discuss, how is Emrys? Any change?"
One of Elep's lekku twitched in a noncommittal gesture, although her face remained blank. "He hasn't changed. If we take him off the sedatives, his heartbeat shoots to dangerous levels, and he hyperventilates. He's completely unresponsive at this point, though. I'm afraid he's slowly slipping away."
Daré exhaled slowly, putting her hands in her sleeves in a familiar gesture. "Then I suppose all we can do is wait," she replied finally. "Maybe Raven can help him. Or maybe this is the will of the Force."
The Healer shivered at Daré's cool, calm voice. "You know, I think I like you better when you are screaming and irate," Elep said, looking at Raven. She glanced to her master, who merely smiled an enigmatic smile. "So why don't you talk to the Council? Your word holds great weight among them."
"I will, in good time, my dear Elep," Master Shioc replied, her smile becoming more of a baring of teeth. "The Council knows I have claws which I am not afraid to show. Besides, I wouldn't want them to start judging people by outward appearances. The smaller I am, the harder I rake with them. They swear I am Corellian."
Elep chuckled. "I'm sure you are, Master Shioc. I'm sure you are." The red-haired Jedi bowed to the Twi'lek, taking her leave, and Elep returned the gesture. Then, she sat down in a chair near the end of Raven's bed to watch and wait.
***
For the second time, Raven awoke with agony. Her head ached, as well as her middle. Dimly, she was aware of the bedding over her, a sheet and a blanket, that seemed twisted around her arms and legs. She shifted, attempting to untangle herself, only to discover that that minor attempt left her feeling weak. The Jedi Knight felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember feeling. Taking her time, she worked to untangle the bedding from her. Something nagged at the back of her awareness, something that demanded immediate attention.
The floor was cold against her feet, but Raven ignored it. She was grateful to discover that the nausea that had accompanied her previous attempt at movement was gone, and the dark-haired Jedi made her way down to the end of the bed and across the room to the hallway. Leaning against the door jam for a moment to collect her breath and her thoughts, she peered out. The hall was empty, with only a few open doors marking differences in the hall.
Raven moved beyond her own room. She decided to see if Elep was on duty, figuring that she had no better ideas. However, once she was about halfway down the hall, Raven was out of breath and not as confident that this was the best decision. Elep's appearance in the hallway saved the Jedi the effort of making a decision of whether to press on or go back to her room.
The Healer's reaction was rather predictable, Raven had to admit, when Elep promptly yelled at her. "Get back to your room! Do you think it was easy to bring you back to the land of the living?" The Twi'lek gestured in annoyance, pointing towards Raven's room.
Raven cringed, the shout echoing painfully within her head. "Send me back to wherever I was," she moaned in response, a bit melodramatically. Elep sighed eloquently in frustration and sidled up next to Raven, slipping her arm underneath her friend's to help support the Knight. "Why am I so weak, Elep?" she asked the Healer, a note of fear in her voice. "I was in prime condition just yesterday."
The pair moved back along the hallway as Elep tossed her friend a slightly amused look. "Your shoulder was injured, and that was four days ago." As impassive as Raven's face remained, her shock was betrayed by a stumble that, if it weren't for Elep's arm, would have sent her crashing to the floor.
"Four days?" Raven's knees buckled beneath her, and Elep held her from hitting the tiles. Carefully, the Healer eased her back to her feet.
"That's why you're so weak," Elep explained. "You haven't had solid food since the tournament, and you were hell bent on ripping out your IV every time we tried to place one in your arm, even when you were unconscious. You have the marks on your arms to prove it. The tournament was four days ago, and much has happened since then. Your master has been giving the Council her wrath. Nat is gone."
They arrived back at Raven's room, where Elep deposited her on the infirmary bed, finding a blanket to drape over her shoulders. Raven drew her legs up to sit cross-legged as her friend perched on the end of the bed. "I knew Nat would be gone," she shrugged slightly, pulling the blanket closer to herself, "but at least he is gone now. That is a taint the Temple can live without." A ghost of a grin appeared around her lips, a hopeful light appearing in her eyes. "How is Emrys?"
Elep's expression altered slightly, and she shifted to stand, her arms crossed before her. The Healer took a deep breath, and Raven watched as her features smoothed. Her lekku twitched a little before stilling against her back. "Elep? What's wrong?" Raven asked, her tone pressing for information. Fear settled itself into a knot in her stomach, and she knew what the answer would be.
"Ven," Elep said slowly, turning to look her friend in the eye, "Emrys has become one with the Force. He left us two nights ago, slipped away without us hardly noticed. One moment, he was breathing calmly, his heartbeat steady, and then…" She spread her arms apart then dropped them to her sides. The Healer didn't continue; she didn't have to. There were no words, really.
Raven broke Elep's gaze to look at some indeterminate point on the blanket that was on her bed. Amorphous thoughts formed in her mind, splintered images of the little boy who had been so concerned about learning to fight, the look of terror on his face, emotions that came to mind about him. It was strange, since Raven had known him so little time, but she felt akin to the uncertainty that had plagued him. His fears had been her own, and she had loved him for it, for having the courage to face them. And that boy was now gone, a causality to a war he hadn't even been asked to participate in. Raven swallowed, seeing his face again, his light brown hair and incredibly deep, liquid brown eyes, feeling a lump in her throat.
"Raven…" Elep said hesitantly, reaching out to touch the Jedi Knight.
She moved away. "Go away," Raven replied quietly. "Please go away." Elep moved a little, indecision clear on her face. Then, the Knight turned to the Healer, her eyes blazing with anger, but moreso with grief, and yelled with all her strength, "GO! Leave me alone!" With a sad shake of her head, the Healer left, and Raven drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and burying her head, her whole bodying shaking.
***
Raven was aware of the profound silence that seemed to hang in her small room. She pulled the blanket more onto her shoulders, distractedly, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. The Jedi knew she needed something to ground her back in reality, to pull her away from her reeling emotions, but there was nothing at the moment. Her world seemed to have come crashing down around her in a matter of days. An initiate that she had taken under her wing lay dead by her partner, who had fled the Temple because of his underhanded dealings.
Guilt struck her with full force as she remembered Elep's warning about Nathaniel. She had sensed it, seen the trouble he would cause on some level, and she had known that he would leave pain in his wake. But Raven, someone who should have known him exceedingly well, hadn't sensed it at all, defending him until he had betrayed Emrys at the advantage she had given him!
Some Jedi she was. To defend peace and justice in the galaxy was her call, but as far as the dark-haired woman could tell, she had done little to facilitate that. Her blundering had only set that goal back, allowing one soul to die and another tainted one to wreck his whims upon the galaxy.
Raven shifted, wrapping the blanket around her torso, draping around her like her cloak, and lying on her side, facing the wall. The Jedi closed her eyes, feeling pain wash over her to mingle with the guilt. All she could see was his face, the look of uncertainty and fear that had crossed his face when he confessed that he was afraid of being a failure. Then, it was superimposed over his look of unadulterated fear as Nat advanced on him.
I tried to save you, but it wasn't enough.
A lump came to her throat again, and Raven felt her eyes tear beneath her eyelids. They fluttered open, the green marred by the liquid that gathered along her lower eyelashes until they could hold no more, splattering down her face and across the bridge of her nose, where they hung before falling to the bed covers.
Time passed, and Raven lay motionless on the bed. Her eyes were half-closed, focused on nothing that was visible within the room. In her mind, and in her heart, she was recording everything she could of Emrys Teve, every look he had given her, every emotion she had sensed from him, every expression and word he had given her, his stances in fighting, his vocal inflections. Every nuance that made Emrys what he had been, the kind of person he was, she burned it into her memory and onto her heart. Raven vowed to herself that no other Jedi would die at her hand, and that vow came from her even more solemn promise to honor the memory of that little brown-haired, brown-eyed boy who had trusted her.
Something within her changed as she worked to emblazon his memory into hers, and she felt herself grow older, having learned something, although she couldn't put the specifics into words. Her responsibilities were often things she didn't even consider, and every move she made held countless implications for those around her. Her actions had effects which she had to consider, moves to plot and ripples to plan for.
Raven also instinctively knew that it would be a long time before she could speak the name of Emrys Teve again. His memory was locked safe within her, and it was a deep and difficult wound, one that would not heal well or swiftly. His life was a steep price to have paid for what lesson she was to have learned from this. But it was a mistake she had no intentions of repeating.
Not again, she avowed to herself, I will protect my kindred, individuals who are my family, those that I love, even if my own life is necessary. I will not let another die if it is within my power to save him
***
The days slid into weeks as Elep kept a careful eye on her friend. Raven, after the initial shock, seemed to take Emrys death surprisingly well, although the Healer privately suspected that it was at least partially an act. Her friend had grown quiet since the death of the initiate, something that Elep hadn't noticed before. Raven was usually quick to remark on something, even were the remark scathing, but now she hesitated, seeming to consider every word, every movement. The Jedi was more cautious now, and for some reason it make Elep somewhat nervous.
The weeks also brought ongoing wars between Daré and her friends on the Council. The Jedi Master made it her personal mission to make them discuss what had occurred with Nathaniel, but their philosophy seemed to remain that, given his absence, it was no longer an issue. Master Shioc pursued the Council doggedly for three solid weeks, devoting every spare moment to harassing them about the issue. Still, they wouldn't listen, citing strife in the Senate. It seemed the situation was merely going to collect dust, since the Council opined that there was no situation to begin with. At least, not any more.
Still, the Healer knew that something was afoot. Occasionally, Elep would follow her friend, making sure she was all right, to see her go to one of the practice rooms, always the same one, and kneel. Unsure whether she was meditating, Elep watched the first time as her friend knelt in the empty room for nearly an hour, facing away from the mostly closed door. She sat completely motionless for that time, studying something that was beyond Elep's capacities to grasp.
Daré eventually gave up on the Council. Elep noticed a marked difference in her, although it made more sense. Prone to bouts of seeing shadows of the future, the Jedi Master became brooding, always thoughtful. The Twi'lek presumed it had to do with the initiate whose ashes now lay in the Hall of Remembrance and her former padawan who trailed quietly through the Temple halls.
And the halls were quiet. Elep observed Raven from afar, making sure that the Knight was really okay, as she put forth. She trailed her master to see what she could learn that way. She watched as Raven stood up straight, kept her eyes dry and her chin up. This display made Elep slightly afraid, that outwardly, Raven coped well.
But every once in a while, the Healer would find her friend staring out over Coruscant from one of the large picture windows in the Temple, her cheek or her hand pressed against the glass. And although she couldn't say why, that frightened Elep most of all.
