Author's Note: Hello there again! Since I first posted the prologue, the idea for this fic evolved past what I initially had in mind for it, and it has now become a fusion of two separate ideas, one of which I have been nursing for the better part of two years. This meant I had to wrestle with exactly how I was going to structure the story, as parts of it will be told in a nonlinear fashion and I didn't want it to get too confusing for readers to follow. Originally this chapter was much longer, but due to the narrative restructuring, I ended up splitting it into two parts, with this first part becoming a secondary introduction that further sets the stage for the plot, although it still doesn't give too much away.

I'm experimenting with nonlinear storytelling right now so while my efforts might not be perfect, I'll do my best to make everything as clear as possible to follow. Thank you for your patience in allowing this story to unfold! For now I hope you enjoy the next installment :)

PRELUDE : BUT SOFT, WHAT LIGHT

She feels him long before she hears him.

He feels like the warm kiss of sunlight on a summer's day. His presence is always radiant, casting long, bright beams into the distance, far beyond his reach. He is a supernova of unfathomable power, a figure whose ability to summon unseen forces leaves the stars trembling in his wake. Or, so the stories would have everyone believe. To most people he is sometimes more of a myth than a man, a demigod untouchable by the likes of mere mortals unable to bend the laws of nature to their will.

But she has never been most people. To her he is something else. Something better, she thinks. He is a shining beacon illuminating the paths trodden by lost and troubled souls, guiding them towards a blinding epicenter of comfort and the promise of broken lives made whole. Her once archenemy now turned ally, maybe even turned friend. To her he is simply the blue-eyed, sandy-haired desert urchin who just so happened to be thrust into the role of galactic hero. A man more than a myth.

But still, a man no less luminous than the reputation that precedes him.

She can feel his light seeping through the trees, although her eyes are closed and her back is turned to the forest beyond. It creeps up behind her before enfolding her in its glow, and she cannot help the upward twitch of her lips as she senses it flooding into the space around her. As if on cue, her heartbeat begins to calm, and her breath slows to match its cadence.

She'd never admit to it, of course, the effect he has on her. That fact is a deeply buried secret she is, as of now, too terrified to unearth.

A crunch of leaves beneath gentle footfalls eventually announces his arrival. She senses him step up beside her before lowering himself to the ground, his boots squeaking beneath him as he adjusts his position.

"Didn't think I'd find you here."

She resists the urge to scoff at him, choosing instead to display her defiance by refusing to glance in his direction. "You know, for all your Jedi wisdom," she retorts, keeping her eyes closed, "I'd have thought you'd know better than to interrupt someone while she's meditating."

He snorts in response, and she feels a startling ache in her chest at the thought of his sky-blue eyes now sparkling with mirth. "You and I both know you hate meditating," he chuckles softly.

"Jedi don't hate," she quips back.

"You're not a Jedi," he parries. "You make sure to remind me of that every other day."

"Every day," she corrects him.

"Same difference."

Her eyes fly open then. "Are you deliberately trying to distract me?"

His mouth curls into a smirk as her gaze finally meets his. "Do or do not," he drawls, waggling his eyebrows as he speaks. "There is no try."

She lets out a cry of indignation and whacks him on the arm as he doubles over with laughter.

"You're a menace, Skywalker," she growls, giving him another tiny shove for good measure.

Skywalker recovers just enough to lean over and nudge her with his shoulder. "Only to you," he murmurs playfully.

Mara rolls her eyes. "Well you've ruined the moment now," she grumbles in mock accusation. "I was having a lovely vision of total serenity and you just barged in and tore it to shreds."

"I'm sorry." His tone is genuinely repentant now. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

At that, she falls silent, a sudden, cold knot coiling in the pit of her stomach. Her hands clench in the fabric of her jumpsuit.

"Mara?"

She draws in a sharp breath through her nose and turns back to him with a tight smile. "I'm fine," she lies.

He meets her performative nonchalance with a pointed look that instantly reminds her he's not so easily fooled. "Mara," he chides, a shadow now falling upon the glimmer of his Force signature, "you know you can tell me the truth."

Mara's mouth twists into a grimace, and she finds that she can no longer hold his gaze. She tears her own away, choosing instead to focus her attention on the vista laid out before her. This is Skywalker's favorite meditation spot, and knowing what she knows about his desert upbringing, it isn't too difficult to see why. Just a few paces away, a lake stretches towards the horizon. It is bordered on all sides by a lush ring of trees and undergrowth, the colors now shifting with the change of seasons. In the distance, a patchwork line of hills rolls over the landscape, its peaks and valleys tracing gentle curves across the edge of the sky. In the evenings the sun descends below those hills, spreading its final rays through the web of branches and onto the surface of the lake. The sun is setting now, and Mara watches intently as the the dying light blankets the water in a fiery sheen, the color not unlike that of the braid currently slung across her left shoulder. A soft breeze weaves through vibrant swirls of falling leaves, stirring the the lake so that the light shimmers across it in tiny red-gold waves.

The sight is breathtaking, and for a moment its beauty is distracting enough that she forgets about the dark cloud lurking unseen in the hidden corners of her mind. That moment, however, shatters far too quickly, and it is Skywalker who delivers the final blow by speaking again.

"Mara - "

"What do you want me to say?" she snaps suddenly, cutting him off. "That I'm scared shitless and would rather drown my ass in the lake right now?"

She can feel his face hardening even though she is, once again, refusing to look at him. It's almost unsettling how much she has committed his expressions to memory now; the image in her mind's eye is as clear as the view right in front of her. The tightening of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow, the glint of agitation behind his deceptively placid blue eyes. The unspoken words tugging at the corners of his lips, demanding to be set free.

At last, he allows one question to escape. "Is that how you really feel?"

She scoffs, lowering her gaze to the ground. "You're the one who's been in my head day in and day out for months," she mutters, ripping a clump of grass out of the dirt. "What do you think?"

Skywalker pauses before letting out a small sigh. "Mara," he murmurs, "if you don't want to do this, then you don't have to."

Mara responds by merely wrenching another clump of grass free from the earth.

"Mara, look at me."

There is a gentle plea buried beneath the command, and Mara realizes - much to her dismay - that she cannot find it in her to resist. Slowly, she lifts her head towards him until her gaze is once more level with his.

"This is your choice," Skywalker says softly. "If you want to back out, just tell me."

She senses unwanted emotion clawing at the back of her throat. "That's just it," she croaks. "I don't think I have much choice here."

His brow creases into a frown. "Yes, you do," he replies in earnest. "You've always had one. From the moment we started this, it's been up to you how far we take it. If you don't want to take it any further then that's your decision, not mine. And not anyone else's either. You have the right to call it off."

She barks out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, call it off and then condemn you and the rest of the galaxy to certain doom. Again." She shakes her head. "That's a real noble choice there, Farmboy."

"We'll just find another way."

"You and I both know what the only other way is."

Skywalker's face goes rigid. "No," he growls, his eyes now ablaze with a cold, unyielding fire. "We already talked about this, and it's out of the question."

She sucks in a deep breath, glaring at him. "Well then," she bites back, "by process of elimination, this is the only option left."

Skywalker falls silent, and although he says nothing in response, the slight waver in his otherwise perpetual luminescence is enough to speak for itself. Mara knows that he knows she's right.

"I just want you to be okay," he whispers.

The affection in his eyes erases any trace of her frustration, and for a split second her heart swells with the sudden urge to touch him. A warm hand on his cheek or grateful fingers curled around his palm. An inviting arm draped across his shoulders, drawing him close.

She opts instead to map the contours of his face with her eyes, trailing over every line and ridge until her gaze settles on the curve of his lips. An indulgent thought slips unbidden into her mind before she immediately banishes it back to whatever crevice it emerged from.

"Don't worry, Farmboy," she at last manages to say. "I'll be fine."

She doesn't tell him that she only halfway believes it.