Smile
Ideal 3. Knight.
She used to read fairy tales when she was a girl.
The great Jedi archives had everything; if it could not be found there, it did not exist, according to the sagely librarian who managed it. Everything was there, from obscure scientific passages from millennia ago, to deep collections of stories from thousands of different worlds. As she read more, she found common themes, of magic and of tricksters, of girls who became swans or selkies, of quests and djinn and treasures. She'd read about them at night in her quarters, late after the other initiates went to sleep. It was a simple thing, to crawl under the covers and turn on the holobook, to let its blue glow fill the little tent she'd make of her blankets.
It was a private little world, just for herself. She was always in the middle; she was never the last in anything, but she was never the first either. Neither the slowest nor the fastest, neither the clumsiest nor the most adept. She was clever, but not brilliant. She earned praise and skill by hard work and steadiness of character rather than the sheer magnitude of her power. She knew she would be a knight someday, and there would be those who would look at her life and think it adventurous. Adventure, though, was mostly an indefinable mix of hard work and sheer terror, with a lofty goal in mind. She cherished the lofty goal, and prepared herself for the rest.
The fairy tales were safe. The diabolical men with blue beards and witches that lived to eat little children would remain safely on their electronic screens, trapped by the black letters that expressed their stories. There she could be the miller girl with no hands, the farmer's daughter that tricked the fox, the red hooded granddaughter that faced off against the big bad wolf.
They faced the witches and the monsters she would someday have to face. Be bold, be bold, the stories urged, but not too bold.
She'd stay there late, until her eyes grew heavy and the blanket-haven grew stuffy with her own warmth and breath. Then she'd surface for air and her room would seem a little too cold and conditioned.
She was meant to be a knight herself. She'd move through a galaxy full of dark lords and tricksters and monsters. She could not afford to be a princess, waiting for a kiss from a prince to wake her, save her. She was meant to do the saving. Happy endings to her adventures would be shaped by her own actions.
Her attention was drawn by the welcoming sight of blue blaster fire, swarming out of the darkening woods around her. Men in white armor, dirtied by a hundred battles and campaigns flanked her, strengthened her, supported her. One with battered gold piping reached her, stood beside her, covered her, defended her as she began her team's retreat. He was little different from the rest, the smattering of yellow color the only thing that defined him on the surface. He did not shine like a knight, but for the moment, he seemed as heroic as one.
Barriss did not mind playing princess just this once.
Be bold, be bold, but not too bold – Lest your heart's blood shall run cold.
Obviously, this is a companion piece to Princess.
The 'be bold, be bold, but not too bold' is taken from the English fairy tale Mr. Fox, which is a variation on the Bluebeard fairy tale. I rather prefer Mr. Fox to Charles Perrault's Bluebeard, honestly. If you're interested in it, you can find it in the "English" fairy tales section at www (dot) sacred (dash) texts (dot) com.
~Queen