The chilly silence was almost a tangible thing, Drex mused as he set the table for dinner that night. He had forgotten to some degree, how cold his Master could be. Living with Ke'dran, the warmth had begun to erase the cold, but now the chance for that was gone. The warmth was dead. He knew he would never be warm again. He hunched further in his robes, pulling them around him slightly.

He sat down at the table to glance over what his Master had fixed. A ready-to-heat meal, warmed up in the quick cooker. Nothing like some of the home cooking Ke'dran had been capable of producing.

He tasted a bite and forced himself not to wince.

He chewed, wondering why that the food was so appalling. Is this really what he had eaten most of his life? Had his meals really been so tasteless before Ke'dran had showed him how true flavor came out in food? What brand was this anyway? Whatever it was, Drex resolved to throw them out and stock up with new ones later.

Violet eyes watched him, every few bites, as his Master delved into her own meal, not tasting it as she ate, slow and mechanical, like everything in her. There was silence, she never made idle chatter, though, disapproval seemed to radiate from her.

He kept his eyes on his plate, feeling her disapproval. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to keep eating. He really wasn't interested in his food at all, but he did not want to give her cause for concern. "Is something wrong, Master?"

A flicker of black eyelashes, those eyes pierced him, "Why would you ask, Padawan?"

He glanced up at her for a long moment, then returned his gaze to his plate. "No reason," He mumbled. "May I be excused, Master?"

There was a slight narrowing of those dangerous eyes, "Are you full, Carth? There is more than half still on your plate."

Resolutely he picked up his fork and began to try and eat again, but it tasted so terrible in comparison to Ke'dran's cooking he could not bear it. He put it down again. "Yes, I am full Master." He wasn't really, but it was the best excuse. "May I be excused?"

For a moment,she didn't answer. For a moment, she merely stared at him, watchful, waiting, and finally those eyes lowered, "Very well. As long as this has nothing to do with your pathetic mourning."

He looked up and met her gaze. "It has nothing to do with Ke'dran, Master," the words felt vile from his lips and he knew he was lying to her and would likely pay the price later if she realized it too. He tightened his mental shields to keep her from finding out. "I'm merely full. "

She studied him, like she would any criminal. After a long, torturous moment, she finally smiled a little, viciously, "Very well, Padawan."

He stood at that to deliver his plate to the waste disposal unit. He did not dare meet her eyes again. He stood straight as he went about his task, not presenting a guilty appearance. He clamped down on his thoughts, unsure if she believed him or not.

She stopped watching him, basically ignoring him as she continued to eat.

He sighed as he finished and wondered what to do next. Maybe he should go to the gardens and meditate. At least away get away from here. "May I go and meditate, Master?" He hated to have to ask before doing things, but that had been her rule ever since he could remember. With Ke'dran he had had three things that he never had with her, warmth, freedom, and independence. The Council's punishment, thus had not been a punishment like they intended. Or perhaps it had. Drex did not know who they were really punishing, them, or their masters.

"Where will you be going to do so, Padawan?" it was casual, yet warning.

"A meditation chamber or perhaps the gardens," he said, without batting an eye.

"You cannot do so in your room? It has been long since you were home."

"Yes it has, by the Council's doing not my own," he replied, reminding her that they had been the one who sentenced him.

The glare was brief, but warning of harsh things to come, "It was by your doing. Do not forget your mistake."

His head lowered at that glare, quick to back down. He did not want trouble, not now. "Forgive me, Master."

"No," it was sharp, yet ever calm, "I refuse to forgive you. Till you prove to me that you should be forgiven."

His jaw clenched at that. He should have expected such. "How will you have me prove it, Master?"

"You will know in time," she assured him.

He knew what that meant. His head lowered again. "Yes, Master. So I am not to leave the apartment?"

"Not until I say," was her agreement.

He nodded after a moment. "Might I still meditate, Master?"

"You may, with me. Thus, you will wait till I am done."

Something flickered in his gaze almost too fast to see. It was either disappointment or anger, or perhaps both. Perhaps it was nothing and merely a trick of the light for in an instant it was gone and his face smoothed into an unreadable mask. "Yes, Master."

Her eyes narrowed again, "Do you have something further to say, Carth?"

"No, Master. I have nothing to say. I will wait as you have requested," he made to move to the living room.

"You will wait at the table," came her sharp command.

His fingers grasped his pants legs, clenching his fingers briefly, while picking off stray lint. He sat as ordered back at the table awaiting her to finish.

He became lost in his thoughts, his mind drifting as he waited.


He was flushed with more than just the heat of his victory of his last match. Master Yoda had informed him his next sparing partner was Ke'dran Zephir. The ten year old was surprised he would be sparring with someone so much older than him. He had glanced over to see who Ke'dran was having never heard of the name before and to his surprise a very pretty girl with silvery hair bound up in a ponytail was walking towards him. He gave her his best wining smile as he bowed politely. "Hello," he said.

Grayish green eyes flickered over him, unimpressed, and cold, though not bored, as the other bowed lightly to him, "Initiate Rixar." Pure respect, no friendliness that Drex had just displayed. The silver and black Padawan braid hung proudly separate from the ponytail, designating Ke'dran's own higher rank, and warned him exactly what he would be fighting in this match.

Drex blinked a little at her coldness and the braid signifying the other's higher rank made him slightly nervous. He moved into position and circled with her. He wanted to impress but he wasn't sure how to go about doing it.

She waited, watchful, studying his every move, till suddenly, she struck, hand darting out sharply, in an effort to slam into his gut, while one long leg moved to hook about his.

He moved as swiftly managing to avoid both the hit to his gut and the attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. Child's play really. "You can do better than that can't you?" he said frowning. "Just because you're a girl, doesn't mean you should be lazy."
Ke'dran paused for a long moment, eyes blinking before they hardened, before moving, far faster, and far harder, employing moves Drex had not learned yet.

He moved as swiftly managing to avoid both the hit to his gut and the attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. He began to employ some of his better moves, as he moved in closing their circle. Drex met the girl's eyes as they came within inches of each other's faces. "You have pretty eyes," he said.

Said eyes widened in vague shock, before a very sudden, quicker then normal, Force driven hit slammed straight into Drex's chest.

Drex wasn't expecting the maneuver and flew backward. He managed to stop himself before he slammed into the wall and skidded to a halt. "I was just trying to pay you a compliment," he said hastily, wondering why she had gotten upset.

That raised an eyebrow, "Is it your tactic to distract your opponent with trivial comments?" Force aided speed, and suddenly she was beside him, already swinging, "Because it's not very good."

"No, I didn't mean any offense," he said ducking to avoid her swing and coming around behind her to leap on top to try and pin her down. "I only noticed cause we were close then."

The weight advantage Drex had over her, ended up forcing Ke'dran to the ground. But her flexibility saved her from defeat, right leg folding back to slam her boot heel into the back of his head.

"What? Am I your type, boy?" wasn't mocking, almost amused in an emotionless way.

Drex saw stars as Ke'dran kicked him in the back of the head. "I think you're pretty," he gasped out. "That's all I meant. Really," he added just in case he wasn't being sincere enough.

Using Drex's momentary distraction, Ke'dran surged up, bucking him off, before moving to pin him in turn, "You're cute," it was somewhere between sarcasm, and that wicked amusement.

Drex struggled beneath her grip fighting to get her off, but he was already tired from his previous matches. "Really?" he asked hopefully.

Almost seeming to shake her head, she jabbed her knee into his gut as she slammed his hands into the mat, holding his wrists in her own more delicate hands, "Really."

At that, she leaned down, close to his ear, and whispered, "Though, I'll let you in on a secret. I'm not a girl."

Shock rippled through Drex at that statement and his eyes widened a little. He swallowed at that as he looked back into Ke'dran's eyes. He could feel his face turning red from humiliation and his heart clenching inside of him.

Another shake of the head, "Don't worry about it. Probably every boy in this class thinks I am." With a smirk, and a flip of the ponytail, Ke'dran was off him, and offering his hand to help him up.

Drex accepted the help reluctantly though he could not meet the other's gaze now. He walked over to the bench and began wiping himself off, his face still bright red.

Ke'dran had to take pity on him, though his Master would state quite firmly that he shouldn't. Pity was for the weak, and Ke'dran was supposed to be untouchable. And normally he was. But something about this kid had struck a cord. Following, he sat down on the bench, grabbing up a bottle of water, as he undid the ponytail, "You did good out there. Can see why you're the best in your class," he lightly stretched his back, "Though, that one move of yours... that was a bit unexpected. My opponents don't usually jump on me."

"I've found it works," Drex said. "My weight tends to give me an advantage and it surprises most of them."

"You felt like a rock strapped to me, so I can see why it would," Ke'dran admitted, casually, as he combed his fingers through his long hair.

Drex smiled a little. "It's because I'm short," he said. "My center of gravity is different than yours. Master Kerchan said so," he added, referring to their sparring instructor.

Reaching into his bag, Ke'dran paused, considering, and finally nodded, "That does make sense."

Drex's eyes were drawn to the boy's long silver hair. It shone so that it looked to be silk. He wanted to touch it, but he knew that would be rude. He had already embarrassed himself enough. "Why do you wear your hair so long? I thought that wasn't allowed."

"It isn't," Ke'dran admitted, withdrawing a brush from his bag, "But I made a...deal with my Master, so to speak, because I want to keep my hair."

"What sort of deal?" Drex asked curiously.

"It's really a punishment. I am to dress and train as a girl, for as long as my Master sees fit. I think he thinks I will tire of this, and have my hair cut," Ke'dran seemed to puff out his chest a little, "But I won't."

"He's making you dress as a girl just to keep your hair? That's not very nice," Drex frowned at that.

Ke'dran shrugged, "He says that if I insist on looking like a girl, I should be treated as such."

"Having long hair isn't necessarily meaning you look like a girl..." his face flushed a little. His eyes again were drawn to the hair. He wanted to touch it.

Noting his gaze, Ke'dran smiled a little, shaking his head in mild amusement before he offered the brush, "Want to brush it? I can't reach all the tangles sometimes."

He felt shy now even as he reached for the comb. "Can I?"

The older boy nodded, "I don't mind if you do."

He took the brush and reached for the hair. It was as soft as it looked. It felt like silk to him. He held a handful against his cheek admiring the silkiness, before he very gently began coming it out. "It's very nice."

Ke'dran forced down a slight giggle at the odd, but enduring affection the boy was showing to his hair. He usually didn't let others touch it, but this one... was different. "Thank you."

He smiled and continued to comb it. "You're welcome. I've seen you around before, but I never knew your name then. "

"As I have you," Ke'dran admitted, "Though, we know each other's names now."
Drex nodded. "That's definitely a start." He wasn't really sure what to say. He wanted to get to know this boy further -- but he wasn't the type to make the first move to doing so.

"So it is," Ke'dran agreed, "Perhaps we can be friends."

Drex nodded in agreement. "I'd like that," he said.

Ke'dran was a little hesitant before he nodded as well, "So would I."

Drex took a breath to quell his rising emotions in him. His Master would sense the pain at the remembrance. It was bittersweet looking back on the time that they had first met. He had been so embarrassed that day, but in the end he had made a new friend. His Master's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Come Carth, it is time," she said rising from her place and dumping her empty plate in the disposal unit.

He rose obediently from the table and walked to the living room with her when she was ready. They both knelt at the same time. He braced himself for what was to come.

"Clear your mind, Carth." She was watching him, her eyes narrowing.

He closed his eyes and tried to do as he was told. But on this day it was harder than it ever had been to obey his Master's instruction when all he wanted to do was rebel.

The attack when it came was swift and sharp, stabbing through the walls of his shields before he'd had a chance to raise them. Memories flashed through his mind's eye. The first meeting with Ke'dran, the feel of the silk of his hair.

The probe struck again going deeper.

More memories came at him again showing himself being made fun of in the crèche; and another, the first night in the apartment he shared with Ke'dran….the funeral's aftermath, going to get his clothes and belongings by himself, his feel of despair…

No. He was struggling to build his shields even as she was focusing on ripping them apart. He tightened his shields, building the layers as quickly as he could. He grabbed at the invader intruding as the last wall was built and pushed hard and felt her leave his mind.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. That attack had been fierce and he had been ill-prepared. He winced slightly.

"You weren't ready," came the unfeeling admonishment.

"No Master," he knew no excuses would be accepted, not even the fact that the one he cared for had died.

"You allowed me to get too far in. You must close your mind, Carth."

"I'm having more trouble doing so today Master," he admitted.

"I do not accept those answers, Carth. Fools who wear their hearts on their sleeves and can be easily read and probed will find themselves easy prey."

"I am not a fool," he bit out.

"I'll be the judge of that," she said sharply. "I did not give you leave to speak. You are adding to multiple infractions already today, boy. Do not add more to yourself on top of your lies and mourning."

His head lowered at that. He knew he was in trouble when he was referred to as boy. "Yes, Master," he tightened his mental shields, holding them like a blanket on a cold day, wrapped around himself as tightly as he could.

"We'll go again."

"Yes, Master."

They had done the exercise five times that evening and when she had finished, he was panting heavily, his mind stinging from the assaults. At least he had succeeded on keeping her out, but not until the very last time. His head was aching but he let nothing show on his face as he stood with her.

"You're improving, Carth," she said finally.

"Thank you, Master," he said, slightly surprised that she admitted it.

She did not acknowledge his thanks. "You may be excused."

He took the opportunity he was afforded and escaped to his room before she could change her mind. He sat on his bed, holding his aching head, trying to reach to the Force to ease the pain. His heart was aching as much as his head. True his Master had given what counted to praise for her, but he still was not happy. How he longed to hear words of encouragement and praise from Ke'dran instead. He kept a tight hold on his thoughts, so they would not leak to his Master.

Ke'dran was gone.

He should accept the facts. He would never hear those words of encouragement from him again.

But in his heart, he knew he could not.

He thought to one of Master Yoda's sayings. Even Yoda said that death was a natural part of life and that he should not mourn Ke'dran's passing into the Force.

It was natural.

Wasn't it?

Then why did things feel so unnatural?