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This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade. If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.
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General Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors. Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse. I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.
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Details:
Name: Broken
Time Frame: Post-NJO
Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo
Rating: PG to PG-13
Post: Chapter 1 of 3
Story Status: Completed
Notes: There is a sequel, Whole, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.
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As always, reviews are appreciated.
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He loved her.
It was easy for him to admit now. At first he had struggled with himself, had tried to deny the emotion she could so effortlessly call forth. But he had lost his inner war. No matter how vehemently he tried to assert that she was a friend, a companion, a partner- he failed.
She was more.
It was easy to understand why, in a way.
She knew what it was like to soar through starlit space in peace, just pilot and ship and the Force working together in a test of skill- to feel the exhilaration of Lando's Folly, the thrill of fancy flying for the enjoyment it provided, to have the Force singing pure and clear through her as her hands danced across the controls.
But she also knew what it was like to fight for control of a battered and wounded ship, dodging coralskippers and debris that had once been the ships of wingmates, trying to desperately ignore the pain of lives suddenly missing in the Force. She knew the guilt of surviving battles when so many that flew out with her didn't; she knew a commander's regret of leading good people to their deaths.
She knew the peace of being whole, of being connected through the Force to every living thing around her. She knew the tranquility meditation could sometimes bring, the satisfaction a sparring match with a fellow Jedi could call forth. She knew what it was like to feel a part of something larger than her- to feel as though she was fighting for a cause, that she was making a difference in the galaxy.
But she also understood the ever-present temptation. She knew of the darkness that whispered seductively just under the surface of the light. She knew of the quick and easy path to power; she had followed it just as he once had. She knew the feelings of pain and loss as well as he did; she understood anger and the dark side. She had struggled through the same journey back to the light that he had undergone years earlier.
It was easy to understand why he loved her. She was everything he admired: a pilot, a Jedi. She was loyal and brave. She would speak her mind despite the consequences; she would fight for what she felt was worth defending. She brought out the best and the worst in him. She could make him laugh. She could make him feel as though he were normal- as though his past wasn't looming large behind him, overshadowing the way everyone saw him. It wasn't there for her; her own past somehow met his, and she could see him for who he really was.
He didn't remember when she had somehow reached out and captured his heart with her small hands. He had tried to recall, tried to find the exact moment when something in him had set and locked so that only she could open him fully, and had failed. Not that it mattered, really, he had just wondered if it had been before or after he had lost her to that Chiss pilot.
He wished he could hate that kid. It would make everything so much simpler. But hate was of the dark side, and he had gone down that route once before, destroying everything he loved in the process.
He wouldn't do it again. Not when she was what he loved now; not when he could lose her.
Again. He really wished he could hate that kid.
But it was probably for the best. He was tainted- destroyer of worlds, rogue Jedi, failed Master of a dead Jedi, failed leader of a dying squadron, ignored Master of a Goddess. It seemed everything he touched- everything he allowed himself to grow close to- he destroyed. Broke. Shattered. Nothing remained whole.
He had almost made that mistake with her. She had sought him out and offered him her friendship- and he had craved it. But he had ruined it. He broke her trust and crushed her spirit by forcing her to kill innocents. The tentative ground their friendship had stood on had crumbled and slid away.
He had learned his lesson from that. He couldn't touch her. He couldn't be near her. He shattered things- trust, friendship, love. She didn't deserve that. She deserved to be whole, to live a full life, a life uncomplicated by a tainted Jedi Master. He was going to leave her alone, let her move on to the life she deserved.
But then she fell. And she was trying so desperately to rise again, straining to overcome the darkness, and he had looked and seen her fragile and broken herself, and he hadn't been able to help himself. He offered to teach her, to help her back to the light, when all he wanted to do was pull her close and wrap his arms around her so that nothing would dare come near and hurt her again. He had wanted to be her shield, her protector.
But he had kept his distance. He became her mentor, and he watched her carefully climb back into the light. He watched her grow into acceptance of who she was, of what she had been. And he ached sometimes from the way she looked at him- trusting, a friend and partner throughout everything, as though nothing he had ever ruined could touch her. To her, his past wasn't strewn with broken worlds and shattered dreams. To her, he simply was. And the easy acceptance hurt- hurt because it made him believe and want too much.
But he loved her, so he stood back. He let the distance between them grow into vast starsystems, until he was no longer on the same world she was. He watched from afar as she turned to Jag- shavit but he wished he could hate him- and consoled himself with the fact that she was happy. And whole. And unbroken.
She deserved to be happy. He loved her with everything he was; she deserved to be happy. And that meant that he couldn't touch her, couldn't have her. Because he was tainted. And no matter how hard he tried, whatever he touched would shatter and break.
He loved her.
So he hung back, away from her presence, away from the hopes and dreams she so effortlessly called up.
And he watched.
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Thanks!
-Keth
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