Thanks for all the replies. And for that snarky know-it-all song, GreatOne! Welcome back, Jedi-Princess, and sorry about your hamster. :(
If anyone doesn't like the sight of blood ― er, I guess that should be a description of the sight of blood ― turn your head now.
A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge
Chapter Eighteen
Luke had felt the danger only moments before hearing the deadly whistle. His lightening-fast reflexes sent him jerking upright, but he wasn't quick enough to completely avoid the arrow that flew his way.
"Luke!" Mara cried in alarm, sensing him stagger in pain behind her. She spun around to see him clutching his leg, his lightsaber already ignited with his free hand.
"Get down!" he shouted, waving his blade slowly as he scanned their surroundings.
"Speak for yourself," Mara bit out, moving to defend her injured husband, her own azure blade poised to fend off further attacks.
Another arrow whistled out from the trees, and Mara easily batted it aside.
"Who's there?" she growled loudly, knowing this was no hunting accident. "Show yourselves!"
Luke stood back to back with Mara, doing his best to ignore the burning pain in his thigh. "What do you want?" He put as much force into his voice as he could, directing his shout toward the direction the last arrow had come from.
A nasty laugh echoed from the trees. "We want yer woman," a coarse voice snarled. "Move aside, whelp, so we don'na hafta hurt her too."
"Hate to disappoint you, Pruden," Luke returned, instantly recognizing the voice, "but you can't have her. I thought we made that ...," he paused as only a slight movement sent a jolt of agony through his leg, "... made that clear at the pub."
"Come out into the open, cowards!" Mara called, her eyes narrowing in anger. "Quit hiding behind the trees."
"So ye can swipe at us with yer magic sticks?" A loud guffaw of contempt came from the trees opposite to where Mara was facing, prompting her to swing around in readiness. "Do ye think we be fools?"
"Stand still, Mara," Luke ground out in a hoarse whisper. "I've got this direction."
"You're barely able to stay upright," Mara bit back. "Get down and let me handle this."
"They've got us surrounded," he argued. "You can't cover ... all sides at once." He easily intercepted a third arrow, this one aimed directly at his chest.
"So what do we do? Stand here till you collapse?"
"You keep 'em talking, while I think of a way ... out of this," he panted. "If they're talking, they'll be less likely ... to be shooting."
"What!" Her previously sarcastic tone turned to indignation. "You think I'm incapable of solving this dilemma?"
"Mara, please ..." Luke didn't have the time or energy to soothe her wounded ego.
Mara muttered a word of acquiescence, her concern for Luke overriding her natural tendency to refuse to take orders from anyone, including him. Swiveling around in a huff, she called out in a loud voice toward the probable location of the group's leader. "How can you possibly think you can have me, Odus Pruden? I'm married."
"And ye'll soon be widowed," came the scornful snicker.
"But I'm a witch," Mara choked out the distasteful moniker. "Aren't you afraid I'll ... I'll turn you all into rishhares or bog-toads?"
Pruden's answer came in the form of a fist-sized rock landing just shy of Mara's feet. "Let's see ye turn that into a bog-toad."
With a flicker of the Force, Mara sent the stone flying back toward its sender. "How 'bout a hawk-bat instead?"
―――――
Half listening to the poor excuse for a parley behind him, Luke studied their surroundings. "There's a ridge ... just ahead," he murmured over his shoulder. "We can climb ... up there, and be in a better ... position ... to defend ourselves."
Mara spared a glance at the small hillock he had spied. "You think you can make it that far?"
Luke took a deep breath to steady his voice. "Of course I can. I'll go first and watch our sides; you follow right behind me ... and cover the rear."
Snatching up his survival pack, Luke slowly edged his way forward. His lightsaber hummed as he waved it back and forth, slicing off the feathered end of the arrow protruding from his leg in the process. He hastened his steps as he both felt and heard Mara reach around to swat down another pair of projectiles, both on a course solely toward him.
Drawing on the Force for renewed strength, Luke scrambled up the sloped hillside as quickly as he could. He grunted in suppressed anguish as he put weight on his injured leg, the remaining shaft of the arrow still sticking out at a slanted angle. Mara was right on his heels, scurrying up nearly backwards as she continued her vigilance.
Once at the top, Luke sat down heavily, his labored breath betraying his distress. Mara knelt cautiously beside him, scanning the trees for any sign of their attackers. She could sense the presence of the three men, but they were staying hidden and didn't seem to be moving any closer.
"You okay?" Mara asked, not taking her eyes off the surrounding woods.
"I'll be all right," he returned, though his low voice did little to assure her. "I just need ... to get this arrow out."
"Are you bleeding?" she questioned, turning her head just enough to catch a glimpse of him.
"I don't think so. Maybe the wound ... has sealed ... around the shaft." He refused to acknowledge the sensation that his pants leg hidden under the flightsuit was soaked with blood.
"Then leave it in for right now. Can you stay conscious until I get back?"
"Of course I— Get back from where?" He eyed the determined stance of his wife. "Mara, what are you planning?"
"I'll sneak down the back of this ridge, go around and take care of these louts one by one, then come back and help you."
"What do you mean ... take care of them?" He sat up a little straighter, careful not to jar his leg.
"Eliminate them. What do you think I mean?" she growled.
He reached forward and gripped her arm. "Mara ... we're not going ... to kill them."
She turned around long enough for him to glimpse the dissenting glower on her face. "Luke, they tried to kill us." She glared pointedly at his wounded thigh. "That arrow was on a trajectory straight for your heart, and you know it. If you hadn't stood up fast enough ..." Mara shook her head and looked back out into the forest, not wanting to think of the possible consequences.
"They weren't trying to kill you," Luke countered quietly.
"No. They just want to capture me and keep me for their pet."
"Mara ..." He willed his voice to remain even. "We are the ones who swept into Zembuhl, encroaching on these people's lives. We humiliated the Prudens at the pub, and the only surprise here is that they waited this long to retaliate. But defending ourselves need not include killing anyone. We can't ... can't appoint ourselves judge, jury, and executioner, no matter what." Luke let go of her arm and leaned back with a wince. "If we'd been more alert ... A Jedi should never be caught off guard."
Mara did not bother to remind him that she was not a Jedi. Instead, she found herself thinking that for an Imperial assassin to be ambushed by a sneak attack was unpardonable. "Happy now?" she bit out, after grudgingly pulling out her blaster and switching it to 'stun.' Her tone softened as she saw the hurt look on Luke's face. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she murmured, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His strong returning grip reassured her that he'd be safe until her return. It wasn't until she was halfway down the slope that she realized she hadn't been thinking in past tense when labeling herself as an assassin.
―――――
Not so much as a twig snapped as Mara stole from tree to tree. From the direction of the voices earlier she knew the approximate location of which attacker she wanted to zero in on first, and she wasted no time heading that way. Direct, no nonsense, no wasted movements. Mara was in her element, and she felt exhilarated. Even the gaudily conspicuous flightsuit couldn't dampen her spirits. A slight smile came to her lips as she recalled once hunting down a renegade moff while dressed in a U'rasdi-original ballgown.
Mara was almost upon her target when a yapping ball of fur launched itself at her. She dropped the annoying animal with one shot, then stared up into the startled, pock-marked face of its owner – Odus Pruden. Before the man could get one word out, Mara leveled her blaster and triggered the blue rings of temporary slumber. Effective, efficient, professional. Wouldn't Luke be impressed?
Mara pulled up short, taking a deep breath. Sith, no, Luke wouldn't be impressed. He'd be dismayed. She was stalking a trio of uncouth woodsmen with the mindset of the Emperor's Hand. The same callous mindset she used when her blaster was always set to 'kill.' As Mara approached the next Pruden, she sent a tendril of the Force in Luke's direction. He felt safe, alert, and distracted by whatever he was doing as he sent back a terse 'I'm fine.' To her relief, he didn't seem to be following her thoughts or actions. With steely resolve, Mara Skywalker did her best to adopt a mental attitude befitting the wife of a Jedi. Patient, tolerant, lenient. Eli and Tors Pruden would hit the ground a little more gently ...
―――――
When she sprinted back up the hillside a short time later, Mara's breath caught in her throat at the sight of her husband. Luke had unfastened the front of his flightsuit, lifting the heavy fabric away from the truncated arrow shaft, and was gingerly ripping open his blood-soaked trouser leg. His lightsaber and an open medkit lay ready at his side.
"Luke!" Mara hurried forward, kneeling next to him on the soggy ground. "You told me you weren't bleeding."
The Jedi shrugged noncommittally. "It's not so bad." He grimaced as he examined the wound closely, swiping at a fresh spurt of blood with a piece of the discarded pants hem.
"Let me see." Mara peered closer, cautiously fingering the wooden shaft. A slight hiss escaped Luke's lips, and she looked up at his noticeably pale face.
"You can't just yank it out," he rasped. "The arrowhead has sharp barbs, and I think it's embedded in the bone."
"Give me some credit," she groused lightly. "I don't want your leg ripped apart any more than you do." Mara bit her lower lip in contemplation. "But we need to hurry. You can't afford to lose any more blood."
"Yeah." Luke leaned back on his elbows, his breathing low and steady. "I thought ... it would be better for you to remove the arrow, rather than me operating on myself."
Mara nodded in agreement. She propped his leg up on one of their packs that she'd retrieved, then reached for the medkit. After spraying the laceration with disinfectant, she carefully probed the flesh around the arrow with a surgical lancet. She could feel Luke shunting away the pain, and winced in sympathy. "I could use a hypo-spray to numb your leg," she offered, digging through the meager first aid supplies provided.
"No." Luke shook his head emphatically. "I'll need to be able to walk as soon as you're finished. The stun blasts will be wearing off before long."
Mara bit her tongue before blurting out that if she'd done things her way, they wouldn't have to worry about waking Prudens. She had to quit thinking along that path. Instead she turned her attention back to her amateur surgery. "You know, this is the first time I've ever done anything like this."
"I guess this is the first time I've been injured since I met you ... ow!" Luke squeezed his eyes shut briefly, then craned his neck to observe Mara's handiwork.
"Sorry," she murmured, taking a deep breath before continuing to dig at the buried arrowhead. "I don't mean just you," she went on. "I've never practiced first aid on anyone except myself."
"Never?" Luke recognized and appreciated Mara's effort to distract him.
"I had training on how to treat my own injuries, but as to others ..." She paused as she gauged whether she'd cut a large enough slit to withdraw the projectile without further damage to Luke's leg. "I didn't work with partners as a rule, and on the rare occasion that I did ... Well, if they were so incompetent as to get hurt, I figured that was their problem." She didn't look up from her work, not wanting to see the frown on her Jedi husband's face at her flippant remarks. "As to my targets, I made sure all injuries were fatal, of course."
"Hmmm ..." Luke gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold steady. "Maybe ... maybe I should tend to my leg ... myself ... Keepuna, Mara! Aren't you done yet?"
Mara smiled to herself at Luke's use of the mild Huttese oath. "I could be if you weren't bleeding so much. It's hard to see what I'm doing."
"Guess you could ... cauterize it with a lightsaber." The young Jedi concentrated on slowing his heart rate, and hopefully the blood pumping through his arteries.
"Do you want to lose another limb?" Mara grumbled in frustration as her hands continued to be covered in bright red liquid. She glanced toward the pack of clothes they'd brought. "I need to tear up some cloth for a tourniquet and to soak up this blood."
"Cut ... cut off my other pants leg."
Mara looked up at Luke's still features, grateful that he had finally settled into his Jedi calming mode. Working quickly, she slipped the outer flightsuit off his right leg and clipped the remaining leg off the already-ruined trousers. "Pulling your clothes off last night was more fun," she quipped, berating herself for not thinking of this on her own.
"Maybe it could be ... a nightly ritual," he answered quietly.
At last Mara was able to extricate the intrusive fragment, grinning as Luke waved off her offer of saving it as a souvenir. After administering another dose of antiseptic, she carefully covered the wound with a bacta patch, wrapping several layers of bandages around his thigh. "There, all done. Now you should go into a healing trance for a few hours."
"No time," Luke countered, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet with an audible grunt. He took a few tentative steps, limping noticeably.
"Hold on." Mara disappeared into the forest, then returned quickly. She held out a long stick, one end sheared off where it had split into two branches. "Returning the favor," she said, remembering the cane he'd fashioned for her.
Luke took the makeshift crutch, slipping the v-shaped end under his arm. "Perfect fit," he pronounced, smiling gratefully.
"I know your measurements," she returned with a shrug.
"Thanks, sweetheart. Thanks for the assist."
"You're welcome." She gave him a friendly wink, reaching out for both his survival pack and the rucksack of food. "But let's not make this a habit."
"I can carry my own load, Mara," Luke objected, pulling the gear out of her grasp. "You already have two bundles."
"Nonsense. You're injured."
"I'm not an invalid." As he swung the packs onto his back, he looked around quickly, as if something important had just occurred to him. "Did you stun the sharrets?" he asked, frowning.
"Of course." Mara felt confused as to why she was suddenly sensing anxiety from him over something so trivial. "I didn't want those mongrels following us."
Vexation flooded out of Luke in tandem with a sigh of exasperation. "Stang it!"
"What? You wanted them tagging after us?" Mara bristled with annoyance at his inexplicable mood shift.
"You think it's better for them to sleep until their owners wake up? How do you think the Prudens found us so easily? Sharrets are excellent trackers, even through snow, and we left plenty of things behind at the inn for them to obtain our scent." Luke began making his way down the sloped embankment. "I think I can pretty well erase any tracks we might make in spots where the snow hasn't melted. But eradicating our scent is a whole other matter."
"Fine, I'll just go back and kill the beasts."
Even before Luke's hand once more grasped her arm, she knew by the scowl on his face that her solution did not meet with his approval.
"What do you want me to do?" she snapped. She could only take so much. Humiliation was mixing with a brewing anger, both at herself for not reasoning out the animals' significance, and at Luke, for his hardheaded attitude toward killing.
"Nothing," he muttered, releasing her arm as he continued down the hillside. "It'll be all right. We just have to get a move on, to stay ahead—" He jerked to a halt and swung around to face Mara again. "They didn't have mounts, did they?"
"Huh?"
"Drobbins. Were the Prudens riding drobbins?"
"Why? 'Fraid I would've stunned them too?" Mara rejoined with a glare. "If there were any, don't you think I'd have enough sense to bring them for us to ride?"
Luke drew a long, exasperated breath. "I just meant if they're on foot also, we shouldn't have much trouble outpacing them."
"You're not going to be outpacing anyone with that leg. In fact, I'd feel better if we went back and let Healer Jobilis look at it. People whose main weapons are arrows should be experienced at treating wounds from them."
"We're not going back. We're banished, remember?" Luke turned away, regretting his sharp tone. "You did just fine getting the arrow out. I can heal my leg myself."
"While you're outpacing three angry men?"
"I'll go into a healing trance in the ship, on the way to Lorrd." He resumed his brisk pace. "Don't worry, I can keep up with you."
Mara quickened her steps behind him. "You are a stubborn bantha, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one," he shot over his shoulder.
"Takes one to love one," Mara muttered under her breath.
Luke paused, leaning on his makeshift crutch. "I'm sorry, Mara." Regret filled his face. "I don't like arguing with you. Not like this."
"I know you don't, Luke," the red-head replied softly. She reached out and took his free hand, and the only sound for the next hour was the sloshing of their black flight boots through the slushy patches of snow.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
As Mara pushed a wet branch aside, she reflected on the last words Luke had spoken. Deep in her heart, she felt certain that Luke was only being polite when he'd told her a few days ago that he enjoyed their 'differences of opinion.' The two of them were as contrary as Tatooine and Hoth. But too different to make a marriage work? No, Mara told herself. She firmly believed they could overcome the disparities in their personalities. And Luke felt the same way. Didn't he? She glanced sideways at his profile, but he didn't turn her way. Well, Mara had never shied away from being blunt.
"Do you think we made a mistake, Luke? Getting married so quickly?"
Luke gave her a quick, blank stare, then looked ahead once more. "I think we should just concentrate on getting off this planet."
He couldn't have wounded her more if he had plunged his lightsaber into her heart. He's sorry he married me. He's sorry ... The thought reverberated in Mara's mind like a vibroblade, piercing her soul over and over. If you weren't prepared to hear the answer, you shouldn't have asked the question. Hadn't Luke said that very same sentiment to her just before they started on this mission? But he hadn't really given her an answer, had he? He had dodged the question, which for Luke meant only one thing – he knew an honest answer would only hurt her.
Mara could feel Luke's hand still loosely clasping hers, as if symbolizing the tentative hold they had on their happiness. How had she expected him to answer? With his usual conciliatory assurance that everything was perfect? Was his optimism rubbing off on her that much? Mara tried to put things into a rational perspective. Luke was constantly being put in a position to overlook her faults, to push aside his morals when they conflicted with her lack thereof. Let's face it, Mara thought. I represent everything he's been taught to abhor.
―――――
It was all Luke could do to keep one foot limping along in front of the other. He welcomed the throbbing pain in his leg; it almost distracted him from the dull ache in his heart. She was sorry they'd married? What thoughts had been running through her mind to induce her to even ask him such a question? Had he really snapped at her that harshly? They'd argued numerous times before, why was this time ...? Luke concentrated on the feel of Mara's soft gloveless hand in his. Because this was their first fight since they'd been married. Their relationship was supposed to be different now, somehow magically changed, improved. But they were still the same people. He was still a Jedi; she was still a former assassin. Deep down, did she resent all his righteous preaching?
So engrossed were the newlyweds in their mutual despondency that darkness had already claimed the forested countryside before either of them noticed.
"Guess we can stop for the night," Mara mumbled, though she was reluctant to let go of his hand even to shrug off her packs.
"We can take a break," Luke countered, "but I think we should keep going through the night."
"You need to rest your leg." Mara took care not to raise her voice. "Even if the Prudens are awake by now, surely they'll wait until morning to continue after us. Or maybe they'll give up and go home."
"We can't take that chance." Finding a fairly dry patch of ground to drop his gear, Luke finally looked Mara squarely in the eye. "Mara, we need to talk."
She nodded, her heart clenching tightly as he led her to a seat on a fallen log. He's going to say we're wrong for each other ... He wants an annulment ... He—
Luke rubbed his face with his hands momentarily, then began speaking in a rush, his azure gaze beseeching her for forgiveness. "I can change, Mara. Please don't leave me. I love you. I won't lecture you anymore. I won't nag you about becoming a Jedi. If you want, I'll even ... give up ... being a Jed—"
"Luke, Luke!" Barely daring to hope that her anxiety had been for naught, Mara shook his arm forcefully, putting a sudden halt to his babbling. "I don't want to leave you; I won't ever leave you. I love you, too. But I thought ... I thought you regretted marrying me."
"No! Why would you think that?"
"You didn't deny it, when I asked you."
"I thought you only asked because you were sorry we married." Luke's wide-eyed expression melted into one of relief. "Stang, Mara, don't scare me like that."
A glimmer of amusement tugged at the corners of Mara's mouth. "I didn't think a Jedi knew fear."
"This one did." Grinning foolishly, Luke pulled his wife close for a tender, comforting kiss. "How can two Force-strong people," he began with a chuckle after finally pulling back, "with such a strong bond, be so blockheaded as to what nonsense the other is imagining."
"Maybe this is what love does to a person – makes you addle-brained," Mara replied, laughing. "Or maybe we're both just too good at shielding. But never again," she continued, turning serious. "No secrets, no barriers, no conjuring up groundless speculations."
"Sounds like a plan." Luke flashed her his most disarming, unpretentious smile. "I love you, Mara Skywalker."
"And I love you, Luke Skywalker." She raised a finger, however, in a gesture of admonishment. "But I don't ever want to hear you so much as mention giving up being a Jedi, even for me." Mara took his hands in her own, gently caressing them. "Luke, you are brave, and kind, and honorable to a fault. These are just some of the things I love about you. These are the traits that make you a Jedi." She paused as she reflected on her own words. These are the traits that I want to embody. Yet I'm constantly denying that I want to be a Jedi. Maybe I'm the one that needs to shake off fear – a fear of commitment.
Mara took a deep breath, then held Luke's attention with her penetrating gaze. "Luke, teach me to be a Jedi. Teach me your skills; train me how to defend others, how to have compassion and mercy."
"Mara, sweetheart, there may be some Force techniques I can help you practice, but you already possess the qualities of a Jedi. You only need to push aside your reluctance to show them."
"All right." She sighed and rose from her bark-covered seat. "I'll try."
"Tsk, tsk, my dear." Luke shook his head. "Lesson number one – do or—"
"— do not," Mara finished. "Promise me you won't start talking backwards. I've heard enough 'Master Yoda' stories from you to fill the Great Library on Ossus."
"Yes, ma'am." Leaning heavily on his crutch, Luke stood and attempted a sweeping bow, but his flushed face was sufficient to startle Mara into action.
"Rest. Now. No arguments." Mara immediately began spreading one of their survival blankets atop a patch of evergreen branches.
Luke started to protest, but one look at his wife's determined expression changed his mind. "Wake me in a half hour," he told her as he sank down onto the cover.
"That's not long enough," she objected.
"A half hour," he repeated, closing his eyes. "Apprentices must obey their masters."
"You!" She would have kicked him if he hadn't been injured already. "I'd better see you entering a healing trance, right now!"
"For a half hour?" Luke muttered, his eyes still shut. "Wouldn't do much good."
"Sleep then, while I check your dressing."
The bridegroom opened one eye as he felt his wife unzipping his flightsuit and running her hands over his bandage. "Sleep? With you pawing my thigh? Sleep is not the state you're inducing me into."
"Mind out of the gutter, Jedi." Satisfied that he hadn't resumed bleeding, Mara carefully rewrapped the wound.
"Hey, I'm on my honeymoon." Luke relaxed back against the ground, one arm casually resting across his face.
"You'd better keep your day job of fighting darksiders and saving the downtrodden," Mara said with a snort. "I don't think you'd make it as a honeymoon coordinator." She settled down into a cross-legged position, cradling Luke's head in her lap. With her lightsaber clutched in one hand and her hold-out blaster, still set on stun, balanced on her knee, Mara gently stroked her husband's silky hair.
"Wake me when the bounty hunters and mawrats get here," he mumbled as he drifted toward slumber.
"Does bring back memories, doesn't it?" she answered softly, recalling the rest breaks they'd each secretly relished during their escape from the Empire. In the shadows of twilight Mara studied his already sleeping face – young, innocent, deceptively carefree. Faint wampa scars were the only tell-tale indication of the trials he'd been through.
Mara never imagined it could feel so wonderful to belong to – no, belong with – another being. Her emerald eyes flickered upward as a nocturnal bird screeched in the distance. "'Night, my love. Sweet dreams."
See, I could've left it another cliffhanger at the point when they each thought the other regretted getting married. Aren't I considerate? ;)
