Sparks of Hope (A Star-Wars Advent Calendar)

By Meysun

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5. Pillars (Mace Windu)

48 BBY.

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Rays of amethyst graced the training rooms, drawing one last swirl in the evening shadows, and Mace lowered his lightsaber, switching it off, gracefully falling into the slow, meditative moves of the simple Initiates' kata.

Vapaad was fierce, and his Master had taught him to come back to the softer, humbler ways of the Force so as to stay in the light – it was a lesson in serenity and balance Mace had never forgotten.

Master Cyslin Myr had been his anchor in the storm, his teacher in the Way, back then when there had been as many doubts within him as frizzy locks on his skull. She had taught him her beliefs in the Force, how to overcome his frustrations so as to use the fire burning within him as a fuel for virtue, morality and protection.

"A pillar, my Padawan. This is who you are meant to be. Do not fear loneliness. Do not mind the hights, the cold, the solemnity. Yet do not forget the grounds who raised you."

And Master Windu lost himself in the slow, easy katas, brown robes swirling around him, eyes closed, finally one with the Force.

The room was dark when he bowed, one last time, coming back to his surroundings, silently thanking the Force for its many teachings - and that was when Mace noticed the thin, light silhouette facing him on the grounds.

The boy was barefoot, in beige sleeping tunics and leggings, standing very straight yet swaying slightly, grey eyes wide-open but staring beneath him, small hands curled at his sides.

"Kenobi", Mace murmured, taking a step towards the little, auburn-haired Initiate, mindful not to wake him.

Obi-Wan shivered slightly and Mace sighed, dropping one knee on the ground so as to be on eye-level with the boy who seemed to fallen into the habit of finding him, of all people, whenever he sleepwalked.

"You will try to understand", Kenobi whispered, his usually chirping tone rough from sleep – making him sound so much older than his nine years. "You will try to save them. The last of their kind."

The child's eyes had the foreign, faraway look of seers, but his signature flickered like a tiny flame. A vessel of the Force he was still barely beginning to understand.

"Save whom?", Mace asked him, still kneeling before him, careful not to touch him, and as usual, Obi-Wan did not really answer.

"You will look into green eyes and see them fade. You will hear them named as a beast. A threat to neutralize."

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes, the shadows painting deep angles into his face – but when he tilted his head, childhood was still softening his cheeks and chin.

"And you will watch them die, knowing they did recognize you. You will grieve. But they will know you. They will take your face with them, and you shall keep your honour."

The little boy was swaying slightly now, and Mace knew the vision was fading in Obi-Wan's mind. The dream was leaving him, and his small hands uncurled as the child's head drooped, sinking softly against Mace's shoulder.

Kenobi would have no knowledge of it on the morrow – he was a bright, gentle Initiate who was as secretive as he was hard-working, but whose signature was not troubled by darkness yet. Mace had witnessed his crystal-gathering on Ilum, though, and knew that the boy had already faced trials.

Obi-Wan had been the last one leaving the Crystal Cave, almost numb with cold, Force-skidding under the nearly frozen door, left wrist broken and grey eyes awash, blue crystal firmly clasped in his hand. It had surprised Mace, who was used to Kenobi's rather subdued, careful behaviour.

Obi-Wan's forehead gently slid towards his neck and the child burrowed closer, draping an arm across his shoulder, Force-signature breathing out, searching for Mace's in instinctive recognition. And Mace exhaled, because compassion was flooding the Force around him.

Compassion, and recognition.

"Balancing crest lines", Kenobi mumbled, against Mace's shoulders. "Pillar."

Master Windu slowly stood up, taking Kenobi with him. The child was tiny, feather-like in his arms – but the Force was strong around him. Strong, and flowing through him, eager to be heard.

Kenobi had met him like this a few times, ever since Ilum. Harvesting his crystal seemed to have funnelled his connexion to the Cosmic Force, flooding him with dreams and visions, whose significance yet remained obscure.

They were grave, though. Warnings Mace was determined to heed.

And the little one kept trying to soften them, warm body pressing against his in a show of affection Mace would have addressed – were Obi-Wan awake.

But one could not scold a sleeping child. Especially one whose Force-signature felt so open and warm – moon rays on stone pillars.

"Don't make a habit of this", Mace uttered, voice deep and stern, dark hand splayed against Obi-Wan's light tunic.

The child's leg brushed his lightsaber and Mace slid it away, shaking his head, looking at the small, peaceful face tucked against his neck.

"You never talk to me awake", he told the sleeping boy, walking away from the grounds, leaving the training rooms. "Perhaps you should, Initiate Kenobi."

He sent a subtle Force-suggestion towards the child – an offering. A spread-out palm for the shy little bird Kenobi still was.

Several years would need to pass, along with many sorrows, doubts and losses, until Mace would truly hear him talk, would be able to take comfort and warmth in the pillar he also was.

And decades later, it was Obi-Wan who would be standing next to him, among poisonous gases, watching an ageless creature extinguish itself along with its species, grey eyes full of gentle sorrow and compassion.

"You did what you could", his friend told him, that evening, Force-signature brushing against his shoulder in mute comfort.

And Mace Windu closed his eyes, taking the creature's face with him, thinking of an innocent, childlike voice telling him he still had honour – and let go of the sadness, the helplessness, the dread and the raising darkness.

A pillar once more, as others had become, mindful of the grounds who had raised him. Balancing crest-lines.

But not alone.

A/N: This one... this one was very different to write, more angsty perhaps - also sterner, because I see Mace very much like that. He's a difficult character to write but you know me now, whenever I get into their skins, I'm hopelessly in love with them. I wrote Mace Windu with a little pang in my chest, thinking of all he embodies - this little fic is a tribute to the Zillo Beast-episodes, where I truly learned to *know* him, because they are amazing. The music going along this piece, especially at the beginning, is 'Fearless' by Shigeru Umebayashi. The events on Ilum are taken from my other fic 'Blossoms In The Wind'.

Before I leave you, I want to give a huge thank you to that_annoying_fool (on A03) and thenegoteator (on tumblr) who actually *drew* Ani and Obi playing pirates. You can find that wonderful illustration on the cover of this fic, on their tumblr and also on mine (mahizli). It made my heart so full and warm.

Thanks to all of you for making this fandom such a joy to write in. Take care, you wonderful people who help us balancing crest-lines too, and a wonderful December 5th to you, Meysun.