Author's Note:
If no one suspects what's going on after this chapter,
I'll be thoroughly disappointed.
Enjoy! :)
Chapter Two
She laughed the most merrily that she could remember.
A grimy Valin grinned at her, playfully punching her arm. "Well,
that'll teach me to trust you!" She laughed some more.
Some of the children were having a mud fight and had decided to get the two
young adult Jedi Knights. Tahiri had deflected hers with the Force.
She'd forgotten about Valin.
—Not that she'd forgotten he was there. She'd just expected him to deflect
his incoming, too.
Therein lay the problem.
Valin's family didn't have telekinetic abilities.
While she was completely dry and dirt-free, Valin Horn
had received a few good mud pies.
Tahiri giggled. "You're a mess!"
He reached over, tucking a blonde tress behind her ear. "And you," he said
frankly, "are beautiful.
Even though sleeping, Jedi Knight Tahiri Veila sighed
dreamily, relishing the memory. After years of pain and guilt over her first
love's death, she had recovered. And now she'd found someone to share that
with…
She felt Valin's lips against hers, feeling pleasantly warm inside. It was
different than her feelings for her first love, Anakin, but still…
She returned his kiss slowly, not letting her memory of Anakin ruin this…
…Their lips finally parted. She pulled away gently—
Valin grabbed her arm.
Tahiri shifted in her sleep, recognizing a shift from
memory. Fear rose in her, fear that—
Her eyelids fluttered open. "Valin—"
Anakin's anguished face was but a hairsbreadth from hers, where Valin's should've
been. They huddled in the freezing locker where they'd shared their first
kiss…
"Tahiri!" he said forcefully, determinedly shaking her
arm. "It's me!"
"Go away," she whispered brokenly. Her voice rose to
a near shriek. "You're dead, Anakin! Please! Why do you haunt me,
again?!"
"But I'm here, Tahiri! I'm back!"
Tahiri abruptly woke, gasping and trembling. She found
herself sitting in bed, her heart pounding against her chest and her breathing
probably erratic enough to set off an alarm, were she in a med center.
Letting herself fall back, Tahiri groaned. She hadn't
dreamt about Anakin for years! And for it all to be coming back… And now,
of all times…
Well, it hadn't exactly returned. This time
had been different. Still quivering, she tentatively reached inside herself,
recovering the dream; reexamining it, as much as that wrenched her to pieces. She loved Valin.
But she'd felt so much more for Anakin.
Her breath caught. What had the dream Anakin said? That he wasn't dead anymore?
Tahiri squeezed her eyes shut, preventing any more
than a few tears to ease through.
She groaned again, knowing herself too well. No
matter what her mind rebuked her with, her heart was going to hold on to
that imaginary hope… now that she'd been so rudely flung back into her old
guilt.
Tahiri pulled the covers over her head, wishing she
could wipe all memory of the dream from her mind. But she couldn't, and
that meant—
She was going to call off their engagement.
Resigning herself to a life ruined by a lost love,
she didn't let herself weep. It was her own stupid fault, anyway. She didn't
want herself to foolishly believe Anakin was back from the dead—that
was impossible.
But the part of Tahiri that belonged to Anakin, the part
forever stamped with their meld, wouldn't let her destroy that delusioned
hope.
Clenching her fist and teeth, Tahiri fought back the tears. "Why, Anakin?" she whispered painfully into the darkness. "Why must
you haunt me?"
The door creaked as it opened, a flickering candle held
behind a cupped hand. Tahiri winced upon seeing the Mon Calamari girl submit
herself to possibly hazardous loss of moisture just to check upon her.
"Master Jedi?" the too-petite female called softly. Tahiri
couldn't tell if she were an older child or a teenager and had given up wondering
why the Mon Calamari called her what she did.
Making sure her face was dry, Tahiri poked her head out
of the covers, squinting from the candlelight. She'd found the emaciated
female on the street. Sensing the Mon Calamari's gentle spirit, she'd offered
to take her in.
She never had figured out how the Mon Calamari'd learned
she was a Jedi. Traveling incognito, her mission was to gather evidence
concerning the rumored slavery on Telos, then report her findings to the
Jedi Council, which would advise the Senate. Both bodies were on Mon Calamari.
Thankfully, the female was not only kind but shrewd. She'd give a puzzled glance if asked her name, but by pretending to be Tahiri's
property, the mission was going a whole lot easier. With how gaunt the Mon
Calamari was, it was very easy to believe her a slave.
Tahiri wouldn't've minded letting people think that she
owned the Mon Calamari, but for one thing.
The female came closer, her steps more of a glide than
a walk. Tahiri still wasn't completely sure that the Mon Calamari wasn't
Force-sensitive, despite the female's mere quiver of presence in the Force.
"Master Jedi?" she asked again, raising her candle so
she could see Tahiri's face—
She suppressed a grimace. Crisscrossing the Mon Calamari's
forearms were slash scars. To the unknowing observer, it appeared Tahiri
had tortured her slave.
Absentmindedly, Tahiri rubbed her arms' own faded scars,
very similar to the Mon Calamari's. "You all right?" She found it easier
to deal with the female's concern by flipping the tables.
The female paused. "You had a nightmare."
Tahiri blinked. That was the most direct personal
statement the Mon Calamari had ever made to her.
Then the import hit her. "Sorry. Did I wake you
up?"
Something bright passed through the Mon Calamari's large,
sadly worried eyes, then vanished. "What did you dream?"
Isn't it odd, Tahiri thought, how she always
knows precisely what's worth uncovering?
She decided to try once more to shunt the female's concern
aside. "What's your name?"
Tahiri sighed inwardly as she again received the puzzled
look. Standing motionlessly, the Mon Calamari didn't respond for a long
moment, during which the bright whatever flashed again in her eyes.
"All right," the female said quietly, gently placing the
candle on Tahiri's bedstand and sitting, barely making an indentation on
the edge of her bed. "I'll tell you my name… if you'll tell me your dream."
Tahiri's stomach dropped, face pale, at the thought
of sharing such personal information in exchange for—
She stopped, examining the female closely. The Mon
Calamari understood what she was asking for, Tahiri saw.
I'm sorry, those watery eyes seemed to say. But I will not hurt you. I only need this so you do not hurt me.
Tahiri drew a forcibly calm breath. "All right,"
she said with a firmness she didn't feel. "But you first."
She held her chin up, meeting the Mon Calamari's
own examination. She knew demanding to go second gave her the upper hand,
but the dream was too excruciating to risk being ripped off.
The female nodded slowly. "Your nightmare hurts
you, Master Jedi. More than I first thought. I will give you more than
my name, but you must tell me the entire dream."
More than the Mon Calamari's name? "Uh… okay."
"All of it."
Tahiri nodded mutely, trying to read the female's big
watery eyes. What was that? Something, some secret, dwelt
in there… something agonizing.
The Mon Calamari sighed, sounding as a breeze's echo. "My name is Eerin Bant." She held a forearm in the flickering candlelight
so Tahiri could see the many scars plainly. She winced, only now realizing
they were of different ages…
Bant's voice was hushed. "These scars…" Tahiri glanced
from the arm to the face; and returned to the arm, seeing a tear forming
in the Mon Calamari's eye.
When Bant spoke again, her voice was stronger. "These
cuts are self-inflicted. I was—still am—suicidal. An adult, my abnormally
small size is due to malnourishment—I am never hungry. I suspect I suffer
from clinical depression."
The woman offered the slight ghost of a smile that
was what so many people considered a smile after the Yuuzhan Vong war—
No, Tahiri firmly directed herself. Can't
think about that. And truly, she couldn't. Anakin had died in that
war.
Their mutual affection had developed during that war.
Bant seemed to guess what was bothering Tahiri and dropped
the ghost smile. "Is there something else you want to know?"
The Jedi Knight opened her mouth to reply, but no words
came out for a second or two. Bant was offering much more information than
Tahiri'd expected from the Mon Calamari's weeks-long silence on herself.
"Why are you suicidal? —What makes you?"
A barely noticeable wince traveled the—the woman,
as little as the scrawny Mon Calamari was. Bant lowered her head, her finger
tracing the marks on her left forearm. "I love him," she murmured, a few
tears landing in her lap.
"Who?" Tahiri bit her lip, realizing that question probably
sounded heartless. Her voice softened, once again reminded of her Anakin. "I mean, what's wrong with that?"
"Well, he's Human." Bant's voice had a sardonic edge
Tahiri had never heard, before. "But that's not the worst of it." Bant's
already hunched shoulders drooped even lower, till the Mon Calamari's back
was even with Tahiri's bosom.
She turned her bowed head to face Tahiri, the unshed
tears still glimmering in the candlelight. "We… We're part of this group. …Were raised, schooled together. Always the best of friends." She paused,
drawing a shuddering breath. Tahiri knew exactly how the other woman felt. Bant's words were piercing old wounds she'd thought had already healed.
"Somewhere, I don't know how, my feelings for him
began to change." The upcoming admission seemed the hardest for Bant to
say. It came out in a scarcely audible whisper. "That was forbidden."
Tahiri couldn't really process that. "You were forbidden
to fall in love with him?"
Bant nodded remorsefully, tears beginning to drip
from her eyes. "Attachment is forbidden. He'll never love me—not
like that."
"You don't know—" Tahiri tried to console the Mon Calamari,
but she would have none of it.
"Oh, but I do," she murmured. "I know him so well. Better
than he knows himself, sometimes. So well I know his knowing that I love
him would distress him, for he cannot—can not—return my feelings. If it ever comes to a choice between him knowing and myself dying, I know
which it must be."
"Bant." Tahiri leaned forward, arms wide.
The Mon Calamari surrendered, crying in Tahiri Veila's
embrace.
She drew a shaking breath, realizing just how far
from over her own recovery truly was. "Let me tell you about my dream. During the Yuuzhan Vong war, I deeply loved my closest friend, and he loved
me…"
As Tahiri provided the background to, and then actually
recalled, the nightmare, she could not believe her voice was so steady, even
if it was weighted with sadness.
Her heart wrenched with every word. Fear struck
Tahiri. Could she ever recover from—from this?
Guesses, anyone? Thoughts? Insults?
(I honestly don't mind negative reviews, as long as you can express yourself w/out vulgarities.)
Next chapter will come upon this one's reviewing. Not before. & I take anonymous reviews. You're welcome.
What is it about writing these things that gets me excited? I mean, I know I enjoy reading A/N's, but who else does?
;)