Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of the characters. I am not
making money with this.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net. All other sites: email me first at siirma6@surfeu.fi to gain permission.
Notes: I apologize for the fact that this story remains unfinished. SW is not my forte - my SW works only mark a period in my writing career when I simply did not have enough inspiration to carry on with my Tomb Raider writings.
Star Wars: Excess Mercy by Heidi Ahlmen
Mara pregnant. Luke couldn't quite remember ever feeling equally confused as to the moment the truth had dawned on him. But a certain clarity had crept in very soon, a determination of what was right and what they should do. Luke was certain they'd made the right decision by seeing it through.
To Mara this clarity of vision still had obviously not occurred. She'd partially contended with their decision, but due to his Force-sense Luke knew Mara was in pain even though she was physically fine. All this - the war, the losses - were proving to be a hard bargain for all of them as they'd been there before. The rebellion. They were used to fighting incredible odds and still prevailing.
Mara had led quite a different life. After Endor she'd disappeared into the crowd, only caring for herself - no philosophy, no ties, no loyalties before Karrde, and that was entrepreneurism, not galaxy-spanning responsibility. This she could not escape alone. The Vong were everywhere.
Occasionally she acted as though Luke was a burden to her, a rope that kept her tied up, preventing her from taking off in the Sabre and plotting a course to the unknown territories. Luke she could escape to a certain extent, but the bud of a life she carried inside she could not rip out.
And on a deep level Luke could feel that blinking out that little light was the last thing she would do. Through the Force Luke felt the fierceness that Mara protected their child with, even though it was still only a cluster of cells, nothing visible.
On the outside, though, he could not feel Mara at all. This war was taking its toll on him as well. He needed her, but she turned away.
And recently, she'd began behaving in a way that worried him to the core. Momentarily, she would be lost in thought, her breathing heavy. Then she would leave - "to get some fresh air", and as she executed her retreat into solitude Luke could feel a storm stirring, a black holish desperation, confusion and fear that made her nearlt double over physically.
He'd tried confronting her, tried just being there, tried holding her silently, tried giving her some space. It wasn't the fact that Mara was unhappy that hurt him, but how she treated him afterwards.
Like nothing had happened. Like he was the culprit if he even dared to try to speak to her about it. After each of these fits - what else could he call them - Mara simply gathered herself, slammed up her mental shields and returned to her duties. And everytime, the seclusion from him ran a little deeper, alienated her a little more.
He was at their apartment door now. And decided to go in. He was tired, and lived there as well, in case she did not remember.
Before pressing his hand onto the keyplate for a pattern scan he closed his eyes and made a quiet survey of the rooms with the Force. The link between him and Mara had been strong enough for them to easily feel each other across planetary systems, but a little extra concentration never hurt.
Mara was inside, in the kitchen unit. She occupied herself with preparing a meal, trying to keep calm, aware of his presence.
The door slid open and Luke went in, pressing his lips upward to form a friendly smile. "Hi."
Mara looked up for a nanosecond, then knelt down to rummage through a kettle cabinet. "Have you seen the medium-sized sautéing pan?"
Luke walked up the the counter and leaned on it. "Mara, you don't have to cook. How about if we go out to to that little restaurant that just around the corner from Freedom Square on 25th level?"
"Not in the mood, Skywalker." At least she admitted to that.
Mara closed the closet doors and looked disoriented.
"There's some leftovers in the cooling unit," Luke offered.
Mara opened it, dug out a container, and attacked it without bothering to warm the contents.
A sudden chill ran over Luke. What was happening? He felt like lashing out at Mara for doing this, for making him feel so transparent, so inexistant, for digging out that loner bravado again.
If she wanted to address her, the time would be now.
"Did you find a dress for the evening?" he asked more cheerfully than he intended, aggravated at himself for not plucking up the courage to stand that fight that would ensue if she cornered Mara.
But he was aware that there weren't many who would contradict his decision. Cornering Mara Jade was no sensible thing to do unless you wished for a quick, clean demise.
Mara nodded, then retreated to the bedchamber, closing the door in her wake. He felt a slight pang of guilt from her directed towards him. Maybe she was in the mood for talking after all.
He knew could go in, kiss her, let the kiss lead into something more, but that would just be himself using physical closeness to alleviate his own helplessness. Mara would be a passive participant.
It was like making love to a hollow shell.
They were attending a concert that evening, a charity thing organized by Leia in the name of the Senate. She was no longer given any crucial jobs, not with her association with the Jedi, and Luke admired her sister's ability to hold her head high and tend to even the most trivial of matters with regal responsibility.
She'd considered consulting Leia about Mara. perhaps it was something about women and being pregnant. But something in Mara gave him the sense that this was something between the two of them.
He sat down on the couch. The sound of rain outside mixed with the turmoil he could sense from the next room.
**************************************
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net. All other sites: email me first at siirma6@surfeu.fi to gain permission.
Notes: I apologize for the fact that this story remains unfinished. SW is not my forte - my SW works only mark a period in my writing career when I simply did not have enough inspiration to carry on with my Tomb Raider writings.
Star Wars: Excess Mercy by Heidi Ahlmen
Mara pregnant. Luke couldn't quite remember ever feeling equally confused as to the moment the truth had dawned on him. But a certain clarity had crept in very soon, a determination of what was right and what they should do. Luke was certain they'd made the right decision by seeing it through.
To Mara this clarity of vision still had obviously not occurred. She'd partially contended with their decision, but due to his Force-sense Luke knew Mara was in pain even though she was physically fine. All this - the war, the losses - were proving to be a hard bargain for all of them as they'd been there before. The rebellion. They were used to fighting incredible odds and still prevailing.
Mara had led quite a different life. After Endor she'd disappeared into the crowd, only caring for herself - no philosophy, no ties, no loyalties before Karrde, and that was entrepreneurism, not galaxy-spanning responsibility. This she could not escape alone. The Vong were everywhere.
Occasionally she acted as though Luke was a burden to her, a rope that kept her tied up, preventing her from taking off in the Sabre and plotting a course to the unknown territories. Luke she could escape to a certain extent, but the bud of a life she carried inside she could not rip out.
And on a deep level Luke could feel that blinking out that little light was the last thing she would do. Through the Force Luke felt the fierceness that Mara protected their child with, even though it was still only a cluster of cells, nothing visible.
On the outside, though, he could not feel Mara at all. This war was taking its toll on him as well. He needed her, but she turned away.
And recently, she'd began behaving in a way that worried him to the core. Momentarily, she would be lost in thought, her breathing heavy. Then she would leave - "to get some fresh air", and as she executed her retreat into solitude Luke could feel a storm stirring, a black holish desperation, confusion and fear that made her nearlt double over physically.
He'd tried confronting her, tried just being there, tried holding her silently, tried giving her some space. It wasn't the fact that Mara was unhappy that hurt him, but how she treated him afterwards.
Like nothing had happened. Like he was the culprit if he even dared to try to speak to her about it. After each of these fits - what else could he call them - Mara simply gathered herself, slammed up her mental shields and returned to her duties. And everytime, the seclusion from him ran a little deeper, alienated her a little more.
He was at their apartment door now. And decided to go in. He was tired, and lived there as well, in case she did not remember.
Before pressing his hand onto the keyplate for a pattern scan he closed his eyes and made a quiet survey of the rooms with the Force. The link between him and Mara had been strong enough for them to easily feel each other across planetary systems, but a little extra concentration never hurt.
Mara was inside, in the kitchen unit. She occupied herself with preparing a meal, trying to keep calm, aware of his presence.
The door slid open and Luke went in, pressing his lips upward to form a friendly smile. "Hi."
Mara looked up for a nanosecond, then knelt down to rummage through a kettle cabinet. "Have you seen the medium-sized sautéing pan?"
Luke walked up the the counter and leaned on it. "Mara, you don't have to cook. How about if we go out to to that little restaurant that just around the corner from Freedom Square on 25th level?"
"Not in the mood, Skywalker." At least she admitted to that.
Mara closed the closet doors and looked disoriented.
"There's some leftovers in the cooling unit," Luke offered.
Mara opened it, dug out a container, and attacked it without bothering to warm the contents.
A sudden chill ran over Luke. What was happening? He felt like lashing out at Mara for doing this, for making him feel so transparent, so inexistant, for digging out that loner bravado again.
If she wanted to address her, the time would be now.
"Did you find a dress for the evening?" he asked more cheerfully than he intended, aggravated at himself for not plucking up the courage to stand that fight that would ensue if she cornered Mara.
But he was aware that there weren't many who would contradict his decision. Cornering Mara Jade was no sensible thing to do unless you wished for a quick, clean demise.
Mara nodded, then retreated to the bedchamber, closing the door in her wake. He felt a slight pang of guilt from her directed towards him. Maybe she was in the mood for talking after all.
He knew could go in, kiss her, let the kiss lead into something more, but that would just be himself using physical closeness to alleviate his own helplessness. Mara would be a passive participant.
It was like making love to a hollow shell.
They were attending a concert that evening, a charity thing organized by Leia in the name of the Senate. She was no longer given any crucial jobs, not with her association with the Jedi, and Luke admired her sister's ability to hold her head high and tend to even the most trivial of matters with regal responsibility.
She'd considered consulting Leia about Mara. perhaps it was something about women and being pregnant. But something in Mara gave him the sense that this was something between the two of them.
He sat down on the couch. The sound of rain outside mixed with the turmoil he could sense from the next room.
**************************************
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi