Look Through My Eyes

by TheRealSokka

(A "Lost Stars" story) It was strange to suddenly have to share. She was used to sharing. She had always shared the views and sounds and feelings with her sister – but she'd never had to share her sister. Yet after a while Wynnet found that she didn't mind when the red-haired boy made Ciena smile.

Wynnet Ree didn't know what it was like to be alive. Not really.

She knew she had been alive at some point, for a short while. She knew what life meant, from the occasional glimpses into it that she sometimes received. That word spanned so much, so many things; noises and smells and pictures and emotions (joy and sadness and others that she didn't know what they felt like, but knew existed). She also knew that, for the brief time that she had lived, she had been loved.

Some time after she had felt this for the last time, she learned that she still was.

Look through my eyes.

The world was suddenly alive with colours. Her eyes must not have been very good before, because she had never seen so many. White; the armour of the soldiers marching through a street. Blue and red and yellow and every other colour; the clothing of some of the people pressed to the street's sides, cheering. Black and blurry; the ships that roared overhead almost too fast to see. There was noise and smell and feeling. She felt soft fabric on her skin that wasn't her skin. She felt a hand in her own that wasn't her own, keeping contact so that she wouldn't get lost. She felt a smile glowing at her from pappa as he glanced down at her. She felt joy and excitement. So much excitement.

"Can you see this?" asked a small voice. So small as if afraid anyone but her could hear.

For the first time, Wynnet wanted something. She wanted a voice. Just for one word. Just one. But she only had the voice of the small girl through whose eyes she was seeing, and that had to be enough. And it was. Almost.

From then on, her sister Ciena carried her with her. And she opened windows for her to look through. She showed her things. The second time, she showed Wynnet the sky; a sky turning from black to red. She hadn't known sky could have either colour. She liked red better. She also saw mountains and valleys and frozen gorges, all covered in a blanket of white. And she felt guilty and greedy, because it was never enough. She always wanted to see more.

The third time, her sister showed her a small band tied around her wrist. This time her voice didn't sound afraid but happy: "Mumma and I made this for you! Mumma say you're there when I wear it. I'll not never take it off!" The band disappeared as small hands flew to either side. Wynnet felt excitement. Her sister had plenty other emotions, but she always came back to excitement. "I dreamed to fly today!" she chattered. "It'was cold and windy and 'twas so high up! And the sky was three colours! But I forgotta show you, cause 'twas a dream…"

Every time she saw through her sister, the braided band was there. Sometimes, Wynnet liked to pretend that she was that band; tied to her sister's arm when she moved (she always moved when she was talking to her). Maybe that was what it was like to fly. But if she were that band, she wouldn't have eyes to see. And her sister saw a lot.

Four years later (it was four years because her sister said so), the window opened and she saw another sky, this time with two thin white lines that looked like clouds cutting through the light grey. Ciena told her there'd been a ship there moments ago, and she sounded so sorry that it wasn't anymore. But then later the same day, Wynnet saw the ship itself, not just the clouds behind it. The two of them had never felt so excited about anything before, even though the ship wasn't even flying. Wynnet saw her sister duck when she got closer, even though she could walk upright underneath it.

She saw the bigger boys noticing her and pushing her and saying mean things. She saw the smaller boy with the red hair noticing them and pushing back and saying nice things. She saw them fight for each other back to back, until an adult came and stopped it. She saw the boy's blue eyes light up with a very familiar excitement when the adult led them into the ship, and felt it echoed in her sister. She felt happy.

Look through my eyes.

There was blue above them and white beneath and they were flying. Not just pretending to fly like her sister liked to, but really flying. Instantly she knew why her sister wanted to show her this. Wynnet heard the winds howl around them; she heard the cheers and laughter from Ciena and the boy echoing in the small cockpit as they weaved between mountains and shot at icicles and flew the ship in unison. She had never heard her sister happier.

Wynnet loved the sky. Her sister came alive in it. As did the boy. On the ground, they were quiet and had to hide; in the air they were loud and their faces laughed. Wynnet started looking forward to those windows the most.

After a time, she came to expect the boy with the red hair. Whenever the window opened, he was there, most often smiling. It became the first thing she always saw: The wrist band on her right, the boy at her left. Maybe Ciena didn't want to take him off, either. He didn't seem to mind.

Years passed and things changed and stayed the same. Wynnet loved being allowed to feel and hear and be shown ever new beautiful things. Yet it was strange to suddenly have to share. She was used to sharing. She had always shared the views and sounds and feelings with her sister – but she'd never had to share her sister. Ciena now shared everything with the boy. Thane. That was his name. A word that her sister thought more and more often now, and one that, for the first time, brought forth similar emotions as mumma and pappa. For the first time, Wynnet found herself not sharing all of these emotions. There was even a new one; one she wasn't sure came from her sister. Could she be jealous if she wasn't even alive?

Her sister was happy, though. She was living her life for the both of them, so in a way, Wynnet was happy too. Even though she was no longer the person Ciena shared all that happiness with.

Then, one day, everything changed.

Look through my eyes.

When Wynnet did, the mountains were gone. The snow was gone, even the sky was gone. They were in the air but not flying; they were being flown. And beneath them, around them, everywhere they looked stretched a city. Towers as tall as the mountains, noise as busy as their city on the day of the parade, discovery the furthest horizon had never been able to promise. Wynnet felt her sister's heart starting to beat faster with joy and wonder. Ciena had dreamed of this for almost as long as she had started sharing her life with her. Dreamed of travelling and flying and seeing new things. Of the thing they called Empire. Her sister excitedly nudged the red-haired boy from back home – the only constant in a world that had suddenly completely changed. He didn't look as happy, but gave her a smile nonetheless.

But not only the surroundings had changed; something else had, too. Wynnet felt it as soon as the times between her windows started to grow. The times when her sister invited her to look though her eyes became fewer. Then fewer still. Scarce. Each time she got to see and feel again, the red-haired boy looked older and her sister's thoughts felt less familiar. The braided wrist band – their wrist band! – vanished, replaced by the dull grey of the uniform that everyone wore.

The new surroundings were still exciting, when she got to see them, but Wynnet couldn't feel the same joy at them that her sister felt. Ciena didn't really talk to her anymore; she no longer spoke when she told her things. Jet she was living more than ever before. There was nervousness, exhaustion, jokes in bedrooms; told in private and, once, there was again the feeling of flying. Togetherness. Then joy and something else Wynnet couldn't put a name to. Her sister didn't try to explain it to her, either.

Look through my…

This time, her sister didn't finish the sentence. She sounded upset. Wynnet forgot her loneliness in an instant and before the window was even fully open, she started looking for what was wrong, how she could help. The unnamed feeling was back, stronger but mixed with so many other things that it was almost lost: hurt, anger, fear, red-rimmed eyes looking back at them from a shiny mirror.

"I didn't know who to talk to. I don't even know what I'm gonna say. I still hope this is a really bad dream." Ciena rested her face in her hands and stayed that way. For the first time, Wynnet wanted hands of her own. To pry her sister's hands away from her face, for her to tell her what was wrong. But her sister needed help and she was voiceless. The silence stretched out, until anger brushed it aside again and, "But if he wants to be so stupid so badly; fine! He's wrong!" He has to be.

The silence after this window was the longest since before she had first heard Ciena's voice. Nothing came from her sister for a lifetime – or what felt like it. In the emptiness, Wynnet had only her questions. What had happened to her sister? Had she stopped living? Had she forgotten about her? Maybe she had just tired of living her life for two. Wynnet had almost expected it, as soon as the window had shown her the different world where everything had changed. Maybe they had had to change, too. Her sadness echoed her sister's, the last time she had let her in. She told herself she shouldn't feel that way. She'd had a lot to be grateful for already. Enough happy memories that weren't her own. She could just start floating away, thinking of snowy mountains and a red-haired boy and flying. But what had become of her sister?

Look through my eyes.

It was little more than a whisper, as if no one else should hear. In the long emptiness, it was everything. Wynnet opened her eyes and saw the big city. They were on a balcony, high enough to look down on almost everything else. Uncountable lights still glowed down in the valleys while the sun cast them into a red glow. Yet her sister wasn't looking at any of it. She was looking at the boy, grown much older and wearing a fancy suit, lying next to her on the marble. He seemed awake, but his eyes were closed; oblivious to being watched.

And Wynnet felt – happy. Together again.

Sad. So much time lost…

Defiant. But we still have plenty left!

Hopeful. The galaxy is big, but we could still end up on the same assignment. And if not, we could swap holo-messages… If he wants to…

After just a moment of basking in this confused emotional well, Wynnet closed the window. She wasn't sure if Ciena had let her in on purpose and this moment felt too private, somehow. She was living; that was all she needed to know for now.

And if she'd live with the red-haired boy and the Empire – Wynnet could accept that. She loved her sister too much to begrudge her sharing her life with three rather than one.

Look through my eyes.

A world was burning. And everything else with it. Without warning, for the first time, Wynnet felt pain as the screams of billions of souls echoed through her all at once, only to fall abruptly silent as they crossed over to her side. This silence was so much worse than the emptiness before. Yet Wynnet couldn't look away from the sight her sister showed and told her: a planet ("They said it was beautiful; I planned to show it to you one day.") breaking apart into the blackness, leaving nothing behind. She felt sick. Who would do something like this?

Her sister didn't have an answer. As she turned away from the burning world and to a tall, completely frozen man by her side, her thoughts were in turmoil.

I didn't think we'd actually use it… Shock.

But it was necessary to prevent a war. Certainty.

But so many people… A whole planet just gone… How is he going to cope with this? Doubt. Only a small shadow of it, but it was there.

Wynnet couldn't comprehend what was happening. What had happened since the last window? But one thing she understood: one of the two constants in her sister's life had just been shaken. And the other was nowhere to be seen. Was Thane gone, too?

Then she was back in the emptiness. Wynnet had a feeling Ciena had forced herself to stop thinking altogether.

After that window closed, the barrier between what she could and couldn't see seemed to break in places. Her sister didn't invite her again for a long time, but she saw glimpses; felt flickers of emotion. Ciena was feeling more strongly than at any time since they'd left home.

First disbelief. Then a second shock, larger even than the first. Then overwhelming relief and a long hug. Love. This one carried over, always in the background even as others began to drop on top of it: loneliness, betrayal, anger, understanding, sorrow; then all of them combined into a long silence that seemed to swallow everything. Wynnet wished nothing more than for her sister to let her in again – but at the same time she was afraid of what she would see when she did.

Finally:

Look through my eyes.

The sight was not what Wynnet had expected to see. From the chaos of emotions that was still there, churning within her sister, she had been prepared for lonely grey rooms or heated arguments or even another world dying – not the red-haired boy (now the red-haired man) lying face down on a cave floor, wearing nothing but a thick woollen blanket. And her sister looking unabashedly at him.

The sound of Ciena's voice stirred him awake and he lifted his head. A sleepy smile appeared on his lips. "You're showing your sister this?"

"I'm supposed to show her the most beautiful and extraordinary moments of my life." Despite the turmoil, her voice was lighter than Wynnet had heard her in forever. "This qualifies."

Thane gave an embarrassed shrug, before gently motioning her to his side. Ciena took his hand and curled up beside him, the furs draped over both of them. Warm. Together. Temporary.

For the third time, Wynnet wanted things. She wanted lips to laugh and smile. But she knew she was being selfish. Her sister was already doing it for her. Even if both of them knew that this together couldn't last. In that moment, Wynnet still wasn't sure if she loved or hated this red-haired man who had stolen her sister and caused all this turmoil. But her sister loved him, and he made her smile – so she might just lean towards love at the moment. Maybe forever. He was the only one who understood her sister more than she did, and that meant that he had to stay. Her sister needed someone who understood.

This conflict between them, within Ciena and in the world had to end someday. And when it did, she didn't want her sister to be alone. A dead girl carried around by memories and a wrist band was not enough; she had accepted that long ago.

But that moment with Thane in the cave wasn't enough, either. This became painfully clear as the silence began to stretch on once again; longer than it ever had before. After that moment in the cave, Ciena didn't talk to her and she didn't show her things anymore. Was it because she didn't travel anymore or because she had at last given up on their shared world?

In the past, Wynnet could have at least listened to her emotions and guessed, but even that side of Ciena had fallen silent. For a time, Wynnet only felt loneliness. She had never liked that emotion, but then even it slowly started to fade until it was little more than an echo, and she began to miss it. She would have taken anything by then; any sign that her sister was alive. She didn't feel alive. But Wynnet was still here, so some part of Ciena had to still be there, too. A third possibility occurred to her: Maybe Ciena didn't show her anything because she didn't think anything she saw was worth seeing. That possibility scared her more than anything else. Because if she didn't want to see (feel) anymore – how long before she would stop trying?

When the next window finally came, everything had changed completely.

Look through my eyes.

The only colour she saw was grey. Then the set of heavy doors slid apart and they hurriedly rushed through, into a scene of chaos. The huge bridge of the ship was shaking, outside the windows the sky tilted and became a dark shade of orange. Wynnet's favourite colour. But from the chaos of emotions she felt (emotions strangely unfamiliar and yet familiar) she knew it wasn't good. She didn't know where this bridge was or what world that red sky belonged to. She had missed so much. Then someone stood from a chair in the centre of the bridge and turned to face them – and Wynnet was looking at her sister.

At first, she didn't recognize her. The woman standing on the bridge was gaunt and pale, her grey uniform hung off her frame, her eyes were dull and lifeless. Nothing like the person through whose eyes Wynnet had seen the sky and the boy and the city, and felt so much love and fury. She was still beautiful, the way Wynnet had always thought she had to be. But in that moment she knew she had been right: her sister hadn't been alive; not really. She looked as dead as Wynnet had felt every day when she didn't let her in.

Then her sister looked at Thane and, a second later, understood what she was seeing. Something flickered in her eyes; an emotion gone too quickly to make out and immediately replaced by panic. She shook her head wordlessly, robotically.

But Thane breathed out in relief and said, "Ciena." and all the emotions Wynnet had come to know where contained in that one word. She hadn't even paid attention to the fact that it was him through whom she was now seeing this scene. Of course it was him. Always there, the way they should be. But to her horror, as he took a step towards her, Ciena took a step away from them.

They argued. They were afraid. And then they were fighting. It was ugly; so much uglier than the first fight Wynnet had watched, back home against the bullies underneath that white starship. Yet it was the same fight: her sister and the boy who had shared her life were fighting to save each other. Even if that meant they had to hurt each other. Even if they would both die.

Desperation, fear, love. Thane wanted both of them to live. His feelings felt as strong as Ciena's ever had.

She couldn't share her sister's feelings anymore, but they were there on her face as they fought: Love, despair, fury. Ciena was feeling again and fighting, but she was not fighting for her own life; only for his. Her sister wanted to join her on the other side. Outside, the sky had turned crimson – soon it would swallow them. They were both about to die.

A small, selfish part of the dead girl thought; Finally. It was drowned out by the rest of her screaming for them to stop, to run. Her sister couldn't die now that she was finally alive again!

She didn't. They didn't. Wynnet made sure of that; she strained against the Force pulling her away even as the window was already closing, until she had seen how he had carried her away from the bridge and the sky no longer threatened to consume them. They would live. She convinced herself of that over and over in the emptiness, until it sounded like the truth. It had to be.

The silence now was terribly familiar. But this time it wasn't all-consuming. There were flickers of emotion. Small hints of life. No new windows; no beautiful and extraordinary moments to show her; but not complete silence. That was enough for Wynnet until a time Ciena was ready to invite her again.

Look through my eyes. Please.

Her sister had never had to ask her for anything. She would always be there as long as she wanted her to be. Didn't she know that?

When the dead girl looked, the sky was blue. No white; no crimson; no other colour. No death. Just blue. Years ago, this wouldn't have been a sight worth seeing. No window would have opened for her because of it. Now it did.

"I always liked showing you the sky. Maybe it's just because I loved flying." Ciena spoke. Her voice was quiet and heavy, but to Wynnet it was the best sound she had ever heard, because it was alive. Not happy; not even fully accepting, but alive.

They were sitting on a green field underneath that blue sky. A little ways away to their left stood a low building; a little to their right a tall fence. It was quiet. A nice kind of quiet; not the terrible kind. A long sigh escaped her sister and she fell silent as she raised her left arm to fiddle with a metal device that was closed around her wrist. It blinked red in a stoic, unchanging rhythm. "If they're listening in on me with this thing, they must think I'm crazy by now; talking to someone who isn't there." she said. "I don't know if you are, though I'm hoping. But I think I've lost you a long time ago."

Her focus turned from her left wrist to the right. With a surge of emotions that were all her own, Wynnet fixed her eyes on the braided new wrist band. She reached out as if to touch it, and in the same moment Ciena did it for her. With her fingers gently trailing over the rough leather, she turned her eyes to the horizon. "Thane helped me make it. He actually went home to get the material, the idiot." It was said with a fondness that belied any insult. "It's not the same one, Wynnet. It's not you, like the one I made with mumma was. But I wanted to make it for you, even if I'm only telling this to the sky right now. I hope the universe doesn't care about technicalities and customs. I hope you can hear me."

I can.

"I think she can." said a quiet voice behind her.

Ciena turned. She wasn't surprised to see him; these days he just showed up whenever he could wrest any wriggle room out of his duties to the Rebellion. Which was often, so either his superiors were even more lax than she'd always suspected, or (more likely) he'd argued hard enough that just letting him visit her was the easier solution. Though she always tried not to, she found herself looking forward to when he'd return, and she found a few rare moments of joy every time he did. Just one more reason she had to love him for. It was really unfair. His hair had turned more red than blond recently, she observed, and she knew that in the dusk, it would look crimson. She'd always liked that colour.

"You don't believe in anything supernatural, Thane. You don't even believe in the Force." she said.

"I don't have to to believe in people. Some are worth it, you know."

"Years ago, you would never have said that. You were always so cynical."

"Years ago, we were very different people."

"Yeah."

Silence settled. It was a loud silence, with too many words not being said. And yet Wynnet heard her sister's silent promise that this time she would say them, eventually. When she was ready.

"You loved flying? Past tense?"

Ciena turned her head to look at him. "You've been listening that long?"

He smiled that crooked, slightly guilty smile. "Sorry."

There was no pressure from him, no prompt for her having to answer. Ciena struggled to put it into words even for herself, but she replied, "I don't know what I feel now. Flying was always so… Why am I telling you this? You know what it felt like. But now everything else is attached to it; everything since we left home. It's like it's…"

"…tainted?" Thane supplied, sighing.

She nodded quietly. "I can't fly again, Thane. I don't know if I could bear it."

His hand found hers and squeezed it tightly, exactly the way Wynnet wanted to in that moment. She'd always thought her sister was the only one who could make her feel alive, but maybe Thane could too, in a way. He wanted what she wanted for her sister. Though he found better words than Wynnet would have done, she was sure.

"Well, that's – a theory." he replied.

Ciena glanced at him, asking a wordless question.

He met her eyes. "Should we test it?"

No. Yes. Why? "Thane. They won't just let me fly out of here."

"Your bracelet has a reach of fifteen hundred meters. We've flown with more limited space." He got to his feet and held out his hand to her. "I've parked a Y-Wing next to the prison. They had a few objections, but I convinced them that a wing commander knows what he is doing. Shall we?"

He almost made her laugh. It was a nice feeling, she had to admit. "Aren't those things superbly cumbersome?" she gave a last ditch effort of an objection.

"Maybe." A warm smile touched his face. "But you never could resist a challenge."

She took his hand and let him help her up. Her lower abdomen still flared with pain every time she moved. She leaned her weight on Thane's shoulder and, after a moment of hesitation, her head as well. "Just don't let me go." she whispered.

"I won't."

"…I know."

On the other side, a dead girl closed her window to life of her own volition. With one last look, she burned the image of the two friends/enemies/lovers walking to the old rebellion ship together into her memory. She could drift now and rest for a bit, knowing her sister didn't need her to look after her anymore.