Chapter 10
"She's waking up."
Riksha heard the whisper of young voices, as she awoke and opened her eyes. To her surprise, she found herself staring at the edge of a pillow, beyond which was a pair of knees. Groaning softly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her sore back protested to this movement, as did the owner of the knees.
"No, Riksha, you gotta lie down and rest!"
"It's alright, Tarani, I'm fine," Riksha told the worried young girl. As her head cleared, she realized that she was up in her bedroom, sitting on the floor. Tarani and Puanani were sitting next to where Riksha had been lying, and so she was now facing them as she moved into an upright position. She took note of the first aid kit that rested between the girls. There was also a large scrap of fabric nearby, which Riksha raised an eyebrow at.
"We had to cut a kinda big piece out of the back of your shirt," Tarani explained. "We figured it would be easier then trying to pull it off completely."
"We tried to patch you up too," Puanani chimed in.
"I see."
Indeed, Riksha could feel that the girls had put bandages and bacta salve on her back. It was probably a pretty sloppy job, but can a person really expect two eight year olds to be expert doctors? "Say, how did I get up here?" She inquired. She was fairly certain that it was not the two guards who brought her up to her room. Most likely, they had left her in the dungeon.
"Well, me and Puanani sort of had to drag you up from the dungeon," stated the Togruta. "You might have a couple of bruises from that. Sorry."
"You two managed to drag me all the way up here all by yourselves?" Riksha asked, surprised that the two could have managed such a feat. That many flights of stairs were tiring simply to climb, let alone drag another person up them.
"Not exactly. We had a little help," Puanani said.
"Help?" Echoed a rather confused Riksha.
"Mm hmm. That guest, Mr. Ghinkt. He carried you most of the way," Tarani admitted.
"Did he?"
"Yes. But we put on the bandages all by ourselves."
"I'm sure you two did an excellent job. Thank you," Riksha praised, and the girls beamed proudly.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
"I'll get it, you have to stay there," Tarani ordered. She strode over to the door, grasping the handle and pulling it open just a crack. Outside stood Anakin, his hands clasped behind his back. He had come to check on Riksha, to see how she was doing.
Anakin had worried about what was going to happen to the former Jedi from the moment the guards had lead her away. Then, a short while later, he had decided that pacing around in his room was not going to make him feel any better. So, he had gone on a walk through the palace, wandering around aimlessly, lost in his thoughts and his guilt. I caused this. The thought had pounded in his mind, repeating over and over, never giving him a second to rest. About an hour into his wandering, he had detected the life force of three beings very nearby. After following it, he had stumbled upon the servant staircase. There, he discovered the two young slave girls, trying to carry (though their version of "carrying" was mostly dragging) an unconscious Riksha up the stairs.
The girls had been wary of Anakin at first, but they had finally agreed to let him help. The Knight had carefully carried Riksha back up to her room, where the girls prepped a 'bed' (which consisted of a single pillow) on the floor. He had wanted to put her on the real bed, but the Togruta had fretted about what would happen if blood got on the blankets and the Twi'Lek had explained that she would not be able to properly take care of the young woman up on a bed. So, with the nagging of two eight year olds, Anakin had complied, and then been promptly shoved out the door because "the doctor had to work." Of course, nobody had explained who the doctor was, or why he couldn't stay to help. But he figured it might be best not to argue with the determined children, and so he had returned to pacing.
When he had sensed Riksha wake up, he had returned to her room and hoped that he would be able to talk to her.
"You can't come in," Tarani informed him. "She needs to rest. Doctor's orders."
"Who's the doctor?" Anakin inquired. In truth, he was irritated with the fact that this child was telling him what he could and couldn't do. But he tried to sound patient.
"Puanani. And I'm the nurse. So you can't come in."
Riksha bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was pretty cute the way the girls had taken on the roles of doctor and nurse. It was also very sweet of them to want to try and help her heal. When Puanani turned her head to look towards Tarani, Riksha swept her hand through the air, causing the door to pull out of Tarani's hand and open fully.
"Hey!" Exclaimed the girl, who proceeded to spin around and glare at Riksha.
Puanani folded her arms across her chest. "Disobeying the doctor is not good. And you can't have visitors right now, you are supposed to be healing."
"Well, since you're a doctor, I suppose you already know that patients heal faster when they have visitors," Riksha commented, somewhat playing along with what appeared to have morphed into a game.
The look on the Twi'lek's face clearly indicated that this was not something she had known. "Of course I knew that. Tarani, let him in."
Reluctantly, Tarani stepped out of the doorway, allowing Anakin to step into the room. He didn't say anything, just stood there feeling rather awkward with two eight year olds watching him. Now, finally, he had been permitted to come see how Riksha was doing. His eyes wandered over the first-aid kit, and the piece of stained fabric which was on the floor. New pangs of guilt stabbed at him, and he avoided eye contact with the former Jedi who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Silence grew think in the air, as everyone seemed to wait for someone else to say something first. Finally, Riksha broke the silence. "Girls, why don't you two head back to your work? We don't want the Queen to be mad at you."
"But-"
"You've done an excellent job looking after me, but you need to go back to work now."
The girls nodded, exiting the room.
Riksha watched the two disappear, a smile on her face. She then directed her attention to Anakin, who was still standing near the door. "Well, no point in just standing there. Sit down," she said, gesturing to an open patch of floor.
Anakin followed her instruction, walking forward and then sitting down on the floor. He too crossed his legs, a position that always reminded him of meditation. He searched for something to say, but again Riksha beat him to it.
"The girls told me that you helped in bringing me up here," she said. "Thank you."
"You have no reason to thank me," Anakin responded. "It was my fault you ended up down there in the first place."
Riksha furrowed her brow, quite confused by this statement. His fault? How so? "Whatever do you mean? I brought this upon myself, caught up in my excitement. I should have known better than to try a stunt like that."
"You nearly pulled it off," Anakin pointed out. "I... Followed you through the vents. I had thought it was only fair that I do a bit of spying on you, after I caught you snooping around during my call."
"Even so, I still do not see how that could have interfered with or affected anything."
"You were nearly done with the swap, when I moved. I made a bit of noise, and it startled you."
Riksha was beginning to understand now. Yes, she remembered, a faint noise had caused her to loose focus for a fraction of a second. It had been enough to ruin the entire plan. "I see."
Anakin looked down at his hands, which currently rested in his lap. "I'm sorry," he said, his words thick with guilt.
"Don't worry about it. I hold no grudge against you, nor should you be hard on yourself," Riksha stated. "Besides, it's merely flesh wounds. I will be perfectly fine in a day or so."
Anakin lifted his head suddenly, watching the woman in front of him. His eyes examined her expression, he sensed the Force around her, and found himself quite astonished by her attitude. "How do you do it?" He inquired.
"Do what?"
"You're not in the slightest bit angry?"
"Anger is not the Jedi way. Anger leads to-"
"Yeah yeah I know, don't go quoting Master Yoda to me," Anakin interrupted. "But how can you live like this and not get angry? How can you just forgive the guards, the Queen, everyone, and dismiss such incidents as this one as mere flesh wounds?"
Riksha was quiet for a moment, contemplating what she should say. In truth, she did feel angry sometimes. Such as the previous day, when the Queen had been scolding Tarani. But she always tried to extinguish the anger whenever it tried to show its face. She felt like if she didn't, if she allowed herself to dwell on negative thoughts, she would be a failure. She would have failed the Jedi, and her beloved Master. So my fear of failure is what keeps my emotions in check. How ironic. Then, another thought occurred to her. But the reason I do not want to fail is because of my care and respect for my Master and the Jedi. So that's not really fear, is it? I just want to uphold what I have been taught, what I believe as a Jedi. "Because I want to uphold the Jedi teachings, even if I am not exactly a Jedi at the moment. It is not the Jedi way, it is not my way, to harbor anger and hold grudges."
Anakin just stared at her, partially in awe at that sort of attitude. Sure, he had heard similar words out of the mouths of many Jedi. But here sat a Jedi, now a slave, saying that she strictly followed the Jedi teachings. How is it that in all my training, with all of Obi-Wan's guidance, I still have not managed to control my anger, yet Riksha, living what I consider to be one of the worst lives possible, has?
She would have made an amazing Jedi. Her master must have been very proud when she was knighted.
Coming out of his thoughts, Anakin noticed that Riksha was using the Force to clean up a bit. The fabric was crushed into a ball, which was tossed in the trash. The first-aid kit was properly packed up, since the girls had made a bit of a mess. The pillow was returned to the bed.
"Does your back hurt much?" Anakin asked, still feeling guilty, despite what Riksha had said.
"I suppose, yes," Riksha answered honestly. "But pain is not foreign to a Jedi. I have endured worse, and I am sure you have as well."
Anakin nodded. He had been captured and tortured before, and he supposed in the grand scheme of things Riksha's whipping wasn't the worst thing in the universe. Suddenly, remembering the second reason why he had come to visit, Anakin reached into one of his shirt pockets and pulled out a silver cylinder. "Well, at least your little heist wasn't a complete failure." Uncurling his fingers from around the object, he stretched out his hand towards her, offering it to her.
When Riksha saw her lightsaber, her eyes lit up like a child on a holiday. Reaching out, she grasped the cool metal, lifting it and turning it over in her hands. Then, on an impulse, she flicked the switch and a lovely green blade leapt forth, humming a warm hello to an old friend it hadn't seen in years.
Riksha stared joyously at the lightsaber for a moment, the blade casting a gentle glow on her face, before turning it off again. "Thank you," she said, gratitude and happiness dancing in her tone. It was a simple phrase, but anything more would have seemed out of place.
Anakin smiled, relaxing a bit, as if returning the lost treasure cleared him of his debt that he felt he owed after he messed up her plan. "You left it in the vents."
Riksha nodded. She remembered, and actually part of the reason she had lifted the real lightsaber before lowering the fake was so that if she got caught, she could venture back into the vents and retrieve the 'saber later. Abruptly standing, she walked out onto the balcony.
"Wait- what are you doing?" Anakin inquired, stopping her as she was about to jump.
"I'm going to meditate," she replied simply, before disappearing upwards.
Once she was gone, Anakin stood up, walking towards and then out of the door to her room. Casting one last glance over his shoulder, a bit of a smile and a look of determination crossed his face as he made a silent vow.
Not would have. Will.
"She did what?!"
"She tried to take her lightsaber from the trophy room," stammered a slightly terrified looking guard as he stood before a furious Queen.
The Queen was quite angry indeed. How dare that girl try and pull off a stunt like that! "I assume she was punished accordingly," the Queen stated, her tone almost threatening.
"Yes of course, your Majesty."
"Good," The Queen sat back in her throne, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "It seems that her loyalty is wearing thin... Perhaps her original source of motivation is no longer sufficient." These words were accompanied by a thoughtful silence. "But what to motivate her with?"
"If I may, your Majesty," the guard paused, then continued when the Queen nodded, "she seems to care a good deal about the younger slaves, that Togruta in particular."
These words were pondered momentarily. Then, an unsettling smile spread across the Queen's regal face. "Yes... I think I know how to motivate her."
She will remain under my command.
Woohoo! We have reached chapter ten! :D
I hope everyone is enjoying the story! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I went ahead and posted this chapter before I reached my review goal, since I was so excited to post this chapter. Plus, I thought it only fitting that the tenth chapter be posted on the tenth day of the month. :)