Padawan Sydney Bristow- I'm glad you enjoyed it so much! And don't worry- there's more, and it gets happier (sort of). Thank you!

Three weeks went by quickly, and Alina was soon hobbling around the cramped medward. Wiltive and Malen had stopped by to see her, and Felja practically lived with her, but she hadn't seen Jorge since he'd walked in on her half naked. She sighed. If his avoidance of her was any indication, he was far more embarrassed than she was.

She sighed again and reached for her crutches. The bacta patches could do little but speed up the amount of time until she could rest some weight on her ankle, provided she was very careful. Most of her cuts had begun fading into pale scars that showed up in sharp relief against her tanned skin. And thanks to three weeks of Felja pouring food down her throat, she'd gained back most of the weight she'd lost in the last month.

The door to the medward hissed open and Wiltive was standing there, waiting to lead her to the exercise room. She'd finally been signed off for therapy and exercise, starting today. Thank the Force, she thought cheerfully to herself. I was about to go stir-crazy.

"Ready to roll, kid?" Wil asked kindly, hiding back a chuckle at the sight of what she was wearing.

"Don't you dare laugh," she ordered, knowing exactly the picture she made. Clad in a simple white sleeveless shirt and gray pants at least three sizes too big for her, Alina knew she looked like an pre-adolescent. The pants were rolled five times so that she wouldn't trip on the excess material, and she'd cinched the drawstring as tight as she could around her hips. Her curly hair, never known for being under control, was ferociously trying to escape from a tight plait that hung over her shoulder almost to her waist. Definitely not experienced warrior material.

Alina brought a hand up to brush against the lock of hair that had once been braided to show her status as a Jedi Padawan. She'd finally given in that morning to Felja's insistence on unbraiding the plait, recognizing the woman's point that it was too well-known as a symbol of the Jedi. Like my lightsaber isn't, she thought sardonically. But lightsabers can be hidden, or disguised. Padawan's braids are too specific,another part of her mind pointed out. Get lost, Alina growled. Just saying, the other part taunted before fading away.

She started at the feel of Wil's warm fingers on her arm, then flashed him a small smile. "Shall we go, milady?" he teased.

"Lead on," she retorted. He grinned, a flash of white against dark skin, and began chatting about the various rooms they were passing.

The Daleby home was built of stone, shaped around a fanciful garden. The two other times she'd been allowed out of the "medward", Alina had enjoyed sitting on one of the ornately carved wooden benches, enjoying the tinkle of the small waterfall, and gazing at the brightly colored flowers and overhanging branches of the trees. Wil led her on the flagstoned pathway around it, and she gently ran her hand along the elaborately carved railing separating her from nature.

"…and this is the training room," Wil finished, waving his hand to prompt a door to hiss quietly open. Alina followed him into the darkened room, blinking rapidly as the lights flashed on a mere millisecond after they detected movement. A rack full of free weights stood in a corner, along with several machines. A sparring circle was painted on the blue floor, and several punching dummies, along with a boxing bag, were stuck in another corner.

Jorge was working out on one of the machines, biceps straining with the tension. After finishing two more reps, he replaced the bar and stood, wiping his sweaty face with the gray shirt he was wearing. "Hey, little brother," Wil called.

Jorge glanced over at the couple entering the room, and Alina could see a light flush tinge his cheeks, barely noticeable against the exercise-induced color across his face. "Hey, Jorge," she said cheerfully.

"Hello," he replied shortly. "I'll leave you guys to your work."

Wil gave him a strange look as he left, then turned to Alina and said, "Don't worry about him. He's been in a funk for the last couple of weeks."

She nodded, musing the knowledge over in her mind, then asked, "Shall we start?"

An evil grin slowly spread across his face as he murmured, "As you wish."

Three hours later, the Jedi collapsed to the floor and moaned, "I give up!" Wil had made her work on the weights, the punching dummies, and do some running to see what kind of shape she was in, and what kind of work she needed to get back into top shape, and now she was exhausted, and every muscle in her body was protesting the hard work she'd put it through.

A towel was tossed on her head, and a teasing voice taunted her. "Come on kid. Let's hit the showers, then you can get some real food, and meet the rest of the people here."

Her left hand moved languidly to pull the towel away from one of her eyes, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. The hot water felt good on her aching muscles, and washed the sweat that stung her eyes. A thought occurred to her as she was washing the soap out of her hair. The rest of the people? Suddenly worried, for she'd faced betrayal by those she'd trusted with her life several times over the last few months, she finished washing up and pulled on the clothes he'd left her. He was waiting outside the room. She grabbed his arm and demanded, "The rest of the people? Who else do you have stashed here?"

"My sister, my two nieces and one nephew, four aunts, one great-aunt, ten cousins- all under the age of twelve, three uncles, and my grandmother," he told her with a completely serious air, turning to walk towards the doorway. "Let's get moving, Jedi."

She pulled on his arm. "Whoa, so how many people are here besides you and me?" she demanded abruptly.

He gave her a short glance that read her thoughts, even as she sought to hide them behind a blank face. "You can trust us, Alina. We have reasons of our own for helping Jedi; they're never going to go away."

She eyed him, confused with that enigmatic statement. "How do I know that?" she retorted with a complete lack of emotion. "Those who professed to be my friend, a friend of the Jedi, they turned around and stabbed me in the back." Her voice rose in pitch. "Why do you think I've been running the last four months of my life? I don't know who to trust? Those I could have sworn would never betray me eagerly sold my life to the Empire for a handful of credits. I didn't even know if I could come here," she spat bitterly, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle. "All I knew was that Master Delesaka said I could trust you. I don't know why she said that, or why I should believe that you won't turn me over to the authorities at the first sign of them."

"You have to have faith," he told her gently.

"Yeah, well, I lost that four months ago, when my 'friends' got a hundred credits for leading troopers to a passageway into the Jedi Temple, straight to a group of us. Three of us died that day, and we had to run. I've been running ever since, and I've yet to find a non-Jedi I can trust," she replied bitterly, striding away.

He watched her leave, pain reflecting in his blue eyes, standing there until she disappeared from his view.

Alina stalked straight down the wooden steps into the garden she'd been admiring only a few hours earlier, striding across the green grass and ducking under the branches of trees. She wandered aimlessly, caught up in her thoughts, trapped by those awful memories of the last quarter year. Each loss of a friend, through betrayal or death, cut deep, and now she was forced to watch her mind callously replied each of those memories, twisting the knife farther still.

A large, flat-topped rock under the shade of one of the trees caught her attention, and she ambled over to it, before sitting in a cross-legged fashion on top of it. Her arms clasped around her legs, she stared off into space as she fought to gain control of her emotions.

Rustling in the plants attracted her attention, and she froze. Excited chattering caught her ear, and she leaned forward, trying to understand who the people were invading her sanctuary. The voice of the elder Daleby drifted over to her, and she slowly relaxed. He was most likely with those children his son had mentioned before.

"Children, slow down," he ordered gently. "We don't want to disturb the sleeping giants." They giggled, but quickly quieted, the calmness broken by the occasional gurgle of laughter. Alina could hear the sounds of plants moving as the children sat down. "Now, what story shall I tell today?"

Immediately, a chorus of eager replies assailed him. "Tell us about the Jedi General during the Great Sith Wars!" "No, tell us about the Tusken Jedi!" "No! The Jedi School Ship!" "I want to hear about the Great Battle of Genosis," a quiet voice spoke up.

"I believe that it is Malia's turn to pick," Malen Daleby pointed out. "What do you want to hear, Malia?"

The little girl replied, "I want to hear about the Jedi School Ship."

"Very well. I may have forgotten parts of it, so all of you will have to help me," he reminded them. "A long time ago, Jedi Master Fin-So-Rowan, and his friend, Jedi Master Ivixa Dalbaeth decided that the Republic and the Jedi needed help connecting to each other."

A little boy interrupted. "Why?"

An older, redheaded girl replied with an air superiority, "Because they were so different, dummy."

"That's not the whole answer, Keevy," Malen admonished gently. "The Republic had grown, and the Jedi, and the government of the Republic had found it impossible to keep up with it. In order to have the best government possible, or be the best person possible, you have to constantly work at improving yourself, and they stopped doing that. Fin-So-Rowan and Ivixa Dalbeath felt that instead of being a community connected to the entire galaxy, the Jedi had turned towards preserving the past.

"They felt the best way to reach out to the people was to build a mobile training academy. They named it Chu'unthor."

"What does it mean?" the youngest little girl there. She could not have been above the age of four.

"Children?" Malen inquired.

"It's the Cerean word for Academy," Keevy replied archly.

"Very good, Keevy. For months, they toured the galaxy, spreading peace, and the word of the Jedi to the people that they met."

"And what happened?" Malia asked, pulling the thumb from her mouth with a distinct popping noise.

"The ship crashed on the planet of Dathomir."

"Home of the witches!" a little boy cried out. The children oohed.

"Yes, home of the Force-witches," Malen acknowledged. "When the Jedi Council learned of the crash, they sent a team of Jedi out to rescue them."

Plants rustled as the children leaned forward. "The Jedi were able to save the occupants of the ship, but Chu'unthor was too badly damaged to be saved."

"What happened to the Force-witches?" a little girl asked.

"Nobody knows," the older man replied. "After the Jedi were rescued, they never went back."

"Why not?" an intrepid little boy asked as the other members of the group fell silent.

"There was so much to do that the Jedi caught up trying to save the rest of the galaxy. And whenever they sent teams there, they were always repelled by the Force-witches. So nobody knows." There was a short pause, then Malen said, "Let's get going children. It's dinner time." The children let out loud whoops, and plants crunched underfoot as they raced out of the garden, their feet echoing on the wooden porch as they leapt up the steps.

A short silence descended, then quiet footsteps made their way to her as Malen came to join her. Alina didn't look at him even as he rubbed a comforting hand along her back. "How did you know those stories?" she finally asked.

"My mother was a Jedi," he told her. "She died sixteen years ago, but I remember all the stories she told me about the exploits of the Jedi."

"Is she why you take Jedi in and hide them?"

"All the members of my family have higher than average midichloren levels. Should the Emperor or Darth Vader look towards people like them, they would be in danger." He sighed. "I grew up with so many stories of the Jedi, that I suppose I consider all of you my family. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I didn't help you after all the sacrifices the Jedi had made for us."

The splatter of a raindrop next to her foot caught them by surprise, and Alina started to laugh. Her laughter turned into uncontrollable sobs, and tears slipped slowly down her cheek. His finger brushed lightly against her cheek, catching one tear and wiping it away. "There is nothing wrong with mourning," he told her. "Sometimes it is necessary to prevent despair or the Dark Side from overcoming you." More raindrops pattered nearby, echoing her tears, but she nodded. "I'll tell Felja to keep some dinner warm for you."

And then he was gone, slipping silently inside, away from the steady drumroll of the rain as it began pouring down. A wellspring of emotion grew deep inside of her, and she lifted her face upwards towards the welcome coolness of the water along her heated skin. "Why?" she cried angrily.

Her body shook as she sobbed, burying her face in the tops of her knees. She rocked herself back and forth as she keened, crying for her friends, her Master, all the Jedi she'd ever heard of, all the innocents killed. Thunder boomed and she felt warm arms encircle her, enclosing her in a tight embrace, and a soft soothing voice muttering words in her ear.

She turned in the arms and buried her face in a hard choice. "Let it all out," a voice murmured. "Let them go."

The rain was still pouring down when she'd finally run out of tears to cry, people to mourn. Eyelids closed, she lifted her face to the soothing coolness of the water droplets. A breath, light as a shallow breeze, brushed across her lips, then warmness encompassed them. Warm bursts of light exploded inside of her, and she snuggled closer, loving the peace that she found with the arms around her.

Kisses, light as the brush of a moth's wings, danced across her face, then brushed across her hair, as he held her tight. Aline grabbed hold of the peace that she had found, and let it guide to her drift along the river to oblivion.

After waking up, alone, in her bed that following morning, Alina gave herself two weeks before leaving the Daleby house. She couldn't allow herself to become too attached to the family, and she couldn't risk their lives by staying longer than that. But as she slowly fell in love with the family, and reports of the Jedi being killed died down, she found herself drifting back to the peace she had found and slipping easily into life with them.

However, even as the last of the angry red wounds on her body faded to pale whiteness, which were barely noticeable against her rapidly disappearing tan, the scars on her heart did not. No matter how hard she tried, in sleep, she could not hold onto the serenity that she had found. Night after night, she awoke with tears racing down her face, a sweaty palm clapped over her mouth to prevent the household from hearing her screams, her clothes salty with perspiration. She did not speak of it though. These were her own personal demons to battle, and she refused to bring anyone else into them.

Instead, she chose to work herself to exhaustion, so that when she slept, she had no dreams. But that wasn't a sure proof method: all too often, she awoke with a choked gasp.

During the day, Alina gave no sign of the horrors she underwent each night. She played with the children, telling them tales of the heroics of the Jedi, helped out in the kitchen, and spent the rest of her time either in the gym undergoing physical therapy or in Malen's study, working with him to record what she remembered of the Jedi. Too much of their culture was disappearing with their deaths.

Clad in a dress that had originally been one of Felja's, but altered, Alina leaned against one of the posts framing the window overlooking the gardens in Malen's study, and gazed out in wonder. The sun had begun its descent less than a half hour before, and now brilliant colors were smeared across sky, casting its shadows on buildings, and a golden glow had arisen about the Daleby residence. She didn't want to take it as a sign, but she couldn't help but grin. The house definitely had more than just a few angels in it.

Jorge leaned against the doorway to the study. He'd been sent up to bring Alina down to dinner, since Felja had gotten it into her head to set him up with the rescued Jedi, and threw them together at every opportunity.

Forget it, Jorge. It's not going to happen, he tried to convince himself, before clearing his throat. She whirled to face him, and in that unguarded moment, he found himself falling in love. The tenderness and unshielded emotion on her elegant face drew him in, and he knew that he'd never be able to get his heart back from her. His face closed up, and he said stiffly, "I was sent up to tell you dinner is ready."

A gentle smile curved her lips, and she moved away from the window. "Thanks." The Jedi brushed past him, her maroon skirts sweeping along the floor as she walked by. Jorge sighed, but pushed himself away from the door frame and followed her.

During dinner, he constantly found his eyes being drawn back to her. She looked tired, fragile even, with pale skin and dark circles under her gray eyes, and he began to feel concern welling up in him.

Alina could feel his gaze on her, constant and unwavering, and she rolled her shoulders, trying to get rid of the itchy feeling gathering between them. "Stop staring," she finally snapped.

"S-sorry," Jorge tripped over his words as he fought to explain himself. "You just looked tired, and I was trying to figure out if something was wrong." He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. That was not going to go over well.

She leapt to her feet angrily. "Well, I'm sorry that I don't look bright and peppy every day, but I'm fine. Nothing's wrong," she informed him icily before stalking out of the dining hall, maroon gown swirling around her feet like waves riled by a storm.