Chuck - I'm glad you're enjoying it; most of the characters are from the "Young Jedi Knights" series, with a few from the NJO, and other miscellaneous series. The OC's, however, become a much bigger part the further into the trilogy we get. The YJK, however, is where the AU starts :) Zekk...will always struggle with the Dark side, sometimes with the upper hand, and sometimes not. I definitely wouldn't want to make it into something easily overcome.
I actually just completed the whole trilogy a few weeks ago, and started it years ago--there are definitely some problems, though, aren't there? As for the rulership of Hapes--some is covered in this chapter, at the start of the next fic, and in the trilogy epilogue. It is, however, just supposed to be a parallel subplot--ongoing, but not a huge factor in the story. Tenel Ka is one of the YJK characters, and one of Jaina's friends, and Jacen's romantic interest, which is why I make the effort of bringing her into the story every now and then :)
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Sorry about the wait between chapters, guys--I got whacked with a number of term papers and exams, all at once :p
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Chapter Forty-Seven: Benediction
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You
were born together and together you shall be forever more
And
together you shall be (You shall be together)
When
the white wings of death scatter your days
Even
in the silent memory of God.
But
let there be spaces
Spaces in your
togetherness
And
let the winds of the heavens dance
And
let the winds of the heavens dance
Dance
Dance
between you
Give
your hearts,
But
not to each other's keeping
For
only the hand of Life
Can
contain your hearts
You
were born together
And
together you shall be
Forevermore
Amen.
- "Benediction" by Kathleen Skinner
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Jaina had told herself she wouldn't cry, and she didn't. Probably, though, she would have felt better if she had.
Watching Zekk climb the ramp to throw in his bags, she wrapped her arms around herself in a hug against the cold. Everything seemed harder, here, waiting for Zekk to leave again. She wondered if it would always be like this—him running off in search of completion, her waiting behind and missing him.
Unlike the last time he had left, Zekk was not going off in secret, and Jaina had not tried to stop him. She would miss him terribly—of that she had no doubt. But she knew he would be back. It didn't make it any easier, but she knew.
"All packed up yet, Zekk?" Krista called at the foot of the ramp. "You can organize things later, you know."
Jaina watched Krista; the girl looked flushed, and she was acting more chipper than ever before. The first week after Miko's abrupt departure, the blonde had been subdued, moping, even. All attempts to comfort her were rebuffed with stinging words. It had taken barely a day for everyone to back off, stunned by her one-eighty in attitude.
Now, though… Jaina winced. Krista had always been bubbly, even hyper, but now she had overdone it, until it was painful to watch.
Krista Harif, apparently, did not deal with loss well at all. Jaina pitied her for that; the girl had experienced – and, in smaller proportions, dealt – a great deal of it.
"Just need to say goodbye, Kris – I'll be right up!"
Straightening her expression, which had begun to slip into disappointment, Jaina found it in herself to grin at Zekk as he descended the ramp, his dark hair catching the light of the private bay.
She loved him—so, so much. And she had waited a long time for this… What was a little longer, especially when she knew he loved her in return?
He took her hands in his, tracing her knuckles, and she realized he was nervous. About what? she wondered. About her arguing with this, and him being torn? Maybe.
Which gave her just another reason to be unselfish. Raising to her tiptoes and sliding her hands up to his shoulders, Jaina kissed him lingeringly, as long as she could stand. Trying to be subtle, she nonetheless almost ripped her lips away before she could sink into his arms and demand that he stay. For him, she tried to smile. "I love you."
His fingers traced over her features with barely the weight of a breath. He didn't say the words, but he didn't need to. Once, he started to say something, but he stopped, and the silence remained broken.
A moment, undisturbed. It was more than Jaina had hoped for.
Then, one more kiss, and he was on his way.
She watched him go, and knew he would be back.
Jaina refused to cry.
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Every night, I am brought back here. Every night, I watch, I stare. Every night, I cry, and I try to deny it. But I know, now.
I know that the sword on the bed is the Sildar. And I knows that only the Kavishka can handle it. That only the Kavishka could bring the Sildar from its nestle of death.
Only Kyp Durron, Daddy's murderer, can have taken on the role of the Kavishka.
Sanar stared at the words; their script was scratchy, and deeply impressed upon the flimsi of her brother's journal, which she had only recently retrieved from Devnos' ship. She knew that the words would never flow from her mind to her fingers to paper – not the way they had for Devnos, and not only because the Strings had not chosen her to be their messenger.
It was a talent she had not received from him, but she tried. Years of watching him scribble down important and inconsequential thoughts, or stories, had made the act of writing something intimately connected to Devnos, and she needed it, if only to try to make everything comprehensible.
She re-read the last line:
Only Kyp Durron, Daddy's murderer, can have taken on the role of the Kavishka.
Every letter was a knife in her heart, thrown in the dark, where she could erect no defence. She hated that it was true.
The Sildar had not been moved since Durron's resurrection and she wondered at that, but maybe the Force was orchestrating it all. From what she had been able to read, through the tears, Devnos' journal had made it quite plain that everything had strings attached, all of which were used by the Force. She hated the Force, and the Strings, for that, too.
In a fit of insanity, she stood and made to pick the Sildar up and put it somewhere else. It was an idiotic move for someone who understood, but the hour was late, and grief had done strange things to Sanar's head.
Before she could touch it, hands darted out and stopped her. Looking up, she froze. Even in the dim lighting, there was no mistaking the person who had grabbed her hands: Kyp Durron.
She hated that he had been there to save her from the Sildar. He did not deserve to touch it—not when she couldn't, and not when she didn't love him.
Very deliberately, he picked the magical sword up by its hilt, and wrapped a thick cloth around it, from the blade to the hilt.
Her gaze rested steadily on the swaths of material as they folded and slipped around the metal, then rose to meet his eyes. "Just because you're going to save my world," she told him, "doesn't mean I have to like you. Or forgive you."
His dark eyes didn't move from hers, and a chill went down her spine. A chill not of fear, but of…of everything else. She raised her chin and strode past him, knocking his shoulder with hers as she went.
He called her back. "Sanar?"
Against her better judgement, she stopped and turned. In the dark room, he seemed different, and Sanar's eyes strained to find something. "What?"
"Don't touch it." Kyp was deadly serious, and he took two steps toward her. "No matter what happens, or what you might hear, never touch this sword. Do you understand me?"
Her face shifted. Of course she understood: there were more secrets that could kill her. And more people continuing to hide these deadly facts. Some things never changed. "Of course I do."
He watched her leave, and for a moment the Sildar burned his skin.
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The sky was midnight black when Tenel Ka slipped into her quarters. For the moment, she left the lights off, comfortable with the silence darkness brought. Moving steadily through and out of her front room, she left her guards at the door of her bedchamber, and shut the door behind her.
A sigh breezed from her lips, speaking of weariness, and she supported herself against the door briefly before continuing on. It had been a long day—a long year, too, for that matter.
Straightening, she turned the lights to the medium setting and crossed to her bureau. She changed into her sleepwear quickly, and folded her discarded clothes. To her surprise, as she was about to hang the pants a palm-sized rock fell from the pocket. Kneeling, she picked up the fallen object.
A holo-disc? Where had she picked this up? Tenel Ka tried to think, tried to remember if she had been handed such a thing today. Recollecting nothing—and her memory was excellent—she threw her mind back further, to the last time she had worn this outfit. It was meant for light exercise, or meditation, though she hadn't had the time for that in some time. Not in—
Tenel Ka's eyes reflexively closed. Not in months, she finished. Not since Jaina's return.
She knew exactly what this disc contained.
He – he gave me something for you. A holo. Here, Jaina had said before handing it to her. And then, He loved you, don't you get it? Tenel Ka almost wished that she hadn't. Misunderstanding would have been easier to cope with than this…resignation.
It was much too late for such things.
Tenel Ka dropped the holo-disc into a private, locked box. She wrapped it in her old, armored Dathomirian tunic and shorts at the bottom of the cabinet. Quickly, silently, she placed other objects—her first, ruined lightsaber, a dagger, and Jacen's gort egg necklace—on top of the pile. Then she closed it, and pushed it back into its secret compartment in her closet.
Tenel Ka was a princess—the heiress of sixty-three star systems.
She had no time for regrets. Not anymore.
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(Six weeks later)
There was so much pain. Jaina had known there would be, but she had not really been prepared. She had been far too young to witness Anakin's birth, and she had only Sanar's memories to reassure herself that this was not the worst birth yet seen.
Leia had been quiet at first, stifling her cries with the self-control that made her such a powerful diplomat. Now, as the doctor told her to push, a moan slipped past her and to the ears of her family waiting at the doorway.
Jaina twisted her hands in her lap, and turned in her seat to peek around the doorway again. Everyone, it seemed, was there to gawk and "help" as Princess Leia Organa Solo gave birth. Everyone, that is, except for Jaina and Han Solo. Apparently family would be in the way. As it was, Jaina was left with her imagination as to how everything was going.
Her Sanar-part, which had seen many disastrous births, was not helping.
But then—a smack, followed by a wail, which had not come from an adult. Han shot out of his chair only a second before Jaina; she hurried after her father as he barrelled into Leia's room. A moment later, Jaina had to dodge the extra nurses, who Han had tossed out of the room.
Only two other beings remained, besides the Solo family, but because one was the doctor-in-charge, and the other was cleaning things up, Han ignored them, opting to go right to Leia's side.
Jaina approached more slowly, her eyes glued to the blue bundle in her mother's arms.
She had a new brother.
Pulling a chair close to Leia's bedside, Jaina peeked over the edges of the blue blanket, and met her brother for the first time.
She thought of Anakin, who had died three years ago, who had just begun to look at Tahiri with new eyes, and whose death had been Jaina's excuse to turn. Like this new brother, Anakin had had dark blue eyes—eyes that held mischief, but also thoughts that didn't typically belong to a child.
She thought of Jacen, her other half, who had loved Tenel Ka in silence, who had died almost a year ago, and whom Jaina would always long for, and miss. Like this new brother, Jacen had had brown hair, a shade lighter than her own, always catching the sun as he talked to his beloved animals.
And she thought of Devnos, who had died barely a week ago, who had wrapped himself so in secrets that he had lost himself, whom she had barely known, but whom she would always miss.
All of them dead before their time; all of them so dear to her heart.
"What do you think, Jaina?"
She dared to stroke this new brother's cheek. His skin was so soft…unblemished, untarnished. "I think he's perfect," she said, her eyes glinting with tears. "Just perfect."
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And here endeth "Caught in the Rain." Part III of Always—"In the Morning"—will be posted here soon :)
.Tjz