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Shaak walks past buildings that are burning and broken. Smoke curls in the air, grey and thick but lighter and thinner than it had been even thirty minutes ago.

The fighting is over. She releases the tension from her shoulders and exhales, expelling the conflict from her body and willing it to not commit to memory. The people who survived are being evacuated by others. The people who passed will be mourned by the former. Those who live here, either alive or dead, are not her concern anymore. She cannot dwell on the loss of lives here today and she knows the ones who still live will be taken care of. She came to their defense and saved who she could. That is all she can ask of herself. And now that the matter is over, she must move on.

Her task is something else now. 
The structure to her left, what looks to have once been a store of some sort but is now little more than the blackened support skeleton, creaks loudly and then crumbles into itself. The ground shakes beneath her feet as dust joins the smoke. 
Shaak offers a kind smile to the soot-covered people that walk past her and continues down the street to where the Force calls to her like a homing beacon.

She approaches a small house, eyes flickering over the man whose body lays across the threshold. The somewhat-local group that’s been handling the evacuation is next door, still making their way down the street in search for any survivors.

“Such senseless violence,” she murmurs low enough to not be overheard by any of them and enters the house.

Stepping over a piece of the partially collapsed roof, Shaak continues further into the home. A woman is slumped against the far wall, eyes glazed over in death. A streak of blood stains the wall. The glint of light catching metal draws Shaak’s gaze away from the dead woman. She ducks down, peering past another piece of the roof.

She sees a small face, wide eyes, tear tracks cutting through the layer of soot that covers her cheeks, and hands holding a knife.

“Hello, little one.”

The girl doesn’t answer.

“You’re safe now,” Shaak says softly, “The fighting is over.”

The girl shifts uneasily, hands tightening their grip, “Who are you?”

“I’m Shaak Ti. What’s your name?”

She doesn’t answer, instead asking, “Did you hurt my mom and dad?”

“No, young one. And those who did are gone now.”

Her hand flexs on the knife.

“Will you tell me your name?”

A long silence. And then, “(Y/N).”

“Hello, (Y/N). Do you want to come out from under there?”

(Y/N) looks away from Shaak for the first time, eyes flickering around at the broken wood and metal that looms over her. 
“It’s dangerous to stay in a broken home,” Shaak adds. 
The young girl swallows and nods. She moves slowly, carefully watching the debris around her. Her legs unfold and she twists to crawl out from under the roof. Shaak offers a hand, which the little girl takes, and helps her get free.

(Y/N) looks up at the sky that is visible due to the collapsed roof, “What happened to those men?”

“I took care of them,” Shaak indicates her lightsaber, “See this? It means that I’m a Jedi. It means I can be trusted and that you’ll be safe with me.”

(Y/N) peers at the saber, one hand still holding the knife she must have grabbed from the kitchen at some point during the fighting.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“The Jedi Temple,” Shaak answers, “on Coruscant. It isn’t safe for you to stay here.”

(Y/N) peers at her suspiciously, “You said those men were gone.”

“I did,” she nods, “I-”

“My parents are dead.” It isn’t a question.

Shaak nods again, “Yes, young one. I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) nods in return, “I’ll come with you…Will you stay with me?”

Shaak’s heart aches for her, “Yes. I promise.”

(Y/N) lifts her arms and Shaak immediately picks her up. The girl moves with her movements, easily tucking up against Shaak’s side and arranging her limbs in a way that is mindful of her head-tails.

Shaak leaves the crumbling house, twisting her body so (Y/N) doesn’t see her parents. She fears it’s an act of compassion that comes too late. She begins walking back to her ship. (Y/N) burrows into her, head turned to maintain a watchful eye on the area around them. Her one hand keeps a tight grip on the knife while the other buries into Shaak’s robes.

Shaak can feel the Force that surrounds the girl reaching out spastically, taking in the surroundings and getting a feel of her. She had felt this once before, when (Y/N) had been deciding whether to trust her or not. Its remarkable that someone so young already has such an influence over the Force. Shaak wonders how much of it is a conscious effort.

When Shaak is approached by someone whose name she can’t think of right now, (Y/N) has the presence of mind to hide the knife between their bodies while not cutting either of them.

Shaak boards her ship quickly, taking off for Coruscant. (Y/N) eventually falls asleep and Shaak holds the little girl close to her body as she flies between the stars. 
 
***
 
The Jedi Council had been kind enough to let (Y/N) stay with Shaak for two weeks to recover from the loss she suffered. Losing both parents and her entire world being unturned in one afternoon is not the easiest thing to just move on from without allowing for an adjustment period. The young girl’s request for Shaak to stay with her…

If Shaak’s request hadn’t been granted, she thinks they might have lost the girl forever.

So, two weeks had been permitted.

Shaak would have liked to keep (Y/N) with her longer. A sweet girl with sad eyes constantly watching Shaak as if she expected her to up and disappear at any moment.

Shaak’s at war with herself, heart going one way and her brain another.

But the decision had been made and just earlier today, the Council had not so delicately told (Y/N) to move on from her parents’ deaths because the emotions paired with their passing would lead to the dark side. Shaak had been able to see in (Y/N)’s face that she didn’t fully grasp what they meant. And Shaak doesn’t blame her.

She tried to explain it later, in a very rudimentary way. But the young girl is only just becoming aware of the mere existence of the Force. The complexities of it are a tad over her head.

(Y/N) is young but not stupid. She had understood enough of the Council’s words that bitterness had burned in her eyes when she turned to leave the room, darkened eyes flickering up to Shaak.

Shaak is sad to leave (Y/N) with the other younglings, watching her little face fight back tears. But Shaak knows she will see the young girl again, and takes comfort in that. 
 
***
 
“(Y/N), wait a moment.”

(Y/N) pauses at the doorway, spins on her heel, and turns back to return to Master Ti’s side. She doesn’t feel nervous, being held back. Shaak has led several training sessions over her time at the Jedi Temple, this is not the first time she has spoken with (Y/N) after. (Y/N) likes Master Ti very much, and hopes one day she’ll be chosen as her Padawan.

She waits for everyone else to leave before asking, “Yes, Master?”

“Is something bothering you?”

(Y/N) swallows thickly, now feeling nervous. She looks away. She doesn’t want to look into the other woman's eyes as she lies. “No, not that I’m aware of, Master.”

Master Ti is silent for a moment. (Y/N) can feel her gaze as she analyzes her. “I watched you with your training saber today. You seem...unsure of yourself.”

(Y/N) looks down at the floor now, ashamed to have been discovered.

“You can trust me, young one,” Master Ti says kindly.

(Y/N) continues to look at the floor even as she readily confesses, “Master Yoda and the others discourage emotion. I try to remain neutral and separate myself from any feelings, but I keep finding myself where I shouldn’t be. I,” she catches herself before saying ‘fear’, “...have concern I’ll be removed from the Order if anyone finds this conflict within me. It is not the Jedi way.”

Master Ti is quiet for a moment. She finally asks, “Why do you think you feel things?”

(Y/N) looks up at her with wide eyes, panicking, “It isn’t because of my parents. A part of me misses them,” and it’s strange to miss people whose faces and voices she is starting to forget and yet she does, “but I don’t want revenge for what happened to them. Revenge leads to the dark side, I know that. I want to be a Jedi. More than anything. And a good one, too. I want to maintain order in the galaxy and be one with the Force.”

Master Ti is quiet. (Y/N) can see thoughts and emotions flickering across her features, but she cannot identify them. They, as well as her presence in the Force, seem conflicted. She reaches out to touch (Y/N)’s hand. Her thumb brushes over her skin as she finally says, “To feel is to be alive. You cannot shut yourself off from a part of yourself like that. The Force flows through every part of us. Surely you have felt that?”

(Y/N) looks down at her chest, thinking of how she has felt the Force flowing through her like water in a stream. She nods, “Yes.”

“You would be interrupting that flow if you cut off your emotions.”

Like how a dam stops a river.

“If we remove emotion,” Master Ti says, “we remove the Force.”

(Y/N) frowns at Master Ti, because that is in direct contrast of what she has been taught.

“Master Yoda-”
“Master Yoda and the others,” Master Ti says carefully, “instruct to avoid emotions like fear and anger, and it is often inferred that they mean all emotions. But that is not the case. (Y/N), it is alright to feel things. You can feel happy when you see a friend or sad when someone dies. Do you remember Senator Lulaer?”
(Y/N) nods, easily recalling the story that had reached the Jedi Temple a few months ago of the Senator from Caamas who died in childbirth along with her baby. Just thinking about it makes tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

“That was sad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It is not wrong to think that,” Master Ti assures her, “It’s a natural reaction. I felt sad when I heard as well. You can have emotions. You just need to control them instead of letting them control you and you must remember to not let your feelings grow into something larger than they should be.”

(Y/N) looks down again, mulling her words over. Perhaps Master Ti is correct. After all, (Y/N) has feelings that are known to the Order that aren’t discouraged. She has friends here like the other younglings in her classes. These friendships are known and she remains in the Order. And it had been known upon (Y/N)’s arrival to Coruscant that she was mourning the loss of her parents, and she had still been allowed to join the Order.

Perhaps there is a small pocket, between no emotion and the slippery slope of emotions leading to the dark side, where (Y/N) and the other Jedi are supposed to operate. Surely it couldn’t be true that all emotion was bad? It seems far more logical, and more possible to achieve, that a Jedi should be reserved with their feelings as opposed to completely void of them?

(Y/N) looks at Master Ti, a smile on her face, “Thank you, Master.”
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s eyes open, meditation interrupted and promptly forgotten as she senses a strong convergence of the Force. This is not a rare feeling, given the sheer amount of the Jedi in the Temple. Master Yoda, for example, has such a strong Force signature, (Y/N) can practically use it as a homing beacon from any place on the campus.

This convergence, though, is not one she has sensed before. Which makes (Y/N) curious. It would seem someone found a Force sensitive child, because it must be a child for how uncontrolled the Force around them feels, and brought them to the Temple.

(Y/N) rises from her place on the floor, exits the room, and starts walking. She isn’t sure where she will end up, simply trusting her senses to bring her to the unknown child wherever they may be.

As it turns out, she soon finds herself near the High Council Chamber. Which is a bit strange for this new Force sensitive child to be near. It is not typical procedure to bring a new Force user to the Council. Force sensitivity is not something that can be faked, if a Jedi brings a youngling to the Temple, it isn’t necessary to get the Council’s approval. (Y/N) hadn’t been brought before the Council upon her arrival, her first time before them had been when she was instructed to move on from her parents’ deaths two weeks after. And she doesn’t know of any of her friends being brought for an introduction or evaluation or whatever it is that this child is currently near the Chamber for.

However, this child does appear to have a very strong Force presence. One that could rival Yoda’s once they learn to control it. It is entirely possible that this unusual convergence around this one individual has caused enough question in the Jedi that found them to make them seek the Council’s input.

There’s also that old prophecy of a Jedi who will bring balance to the Force. (Y/N) rolls her eyes as she walks down the hallway. That prophecy has been around for years, and manages to be both a taboo and the only thing people can talk about at the same time. It sometimes feels like every time someone shows even a slightly higher than average Force presence, whispers of the prophecy fill the vast halls of the Jedi Temple.

(Y/N) rounds the corner and a small smile finds it way to her face, “Master Jinn, Obi-Wan.”

The two men turn to look at her, as well as a young boy. 
(Y/N) approaches them, offering a small bow in greeting. They both return it, Obi-Wan’s signature brushing against her own in further greeting, while the boy looks at her with curious blue eyes. 
“I’m so pleased to see you both,” she continues, choosing to ignore the boy for just a brief moment, “When we didn’t hear from you at the scheduled check-in, I was worried something might have happened.”

“Oh, trust me, a lot happened,” Obi-Wan replies with a displeased twist in his mouth.

“Whatever it was, you still have your health,” (Y/N) teases lightly, hands resting on her hips, “And I see you’ve found someone on your adventures,” she looks down at the boy, “Hello.”

“Hi,” he greets, “I’m Anakin.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“I am,” she pats her lightsaber where it rests on her hip. 
“Well,” Anakin says with a smile, “it’s nice to meet you,” and he offers a little bow to her. Cute kid. 
(Y/N) smiles back at him, “It’s a pleasure,” and then looks back to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, “What’s going on?”

“The Trade Federation’s blockade has developed into a full scale invasion,” Qui-Gon supplies.

Her eyebrow rises, “Really? That’s bold of them.”

“Yes, quite. We managed to escape with the queen and a few others, she is here on Coruscant. Queen Amidala will be speaking at the Senate meeting to ask for aid,” Qui-Gon glances at the door to the High Council Chamber, “And I must speak to the Council about the...various developments.”

(Y/N) nods, glancing at Obi-Wan and noting that he still seems displeased about something.

“Am I going in with you?” Anakin looks up at Qui-Gon.

“Momentarily,” he replies with a strained smile.

“I could stay with Anakin,” (Y/N) offers, prodding Obi-Wan’s signature, “so you both can speak to the Council.”
“That is thoughtful of you,” Qui-Gon says and then looks to his Padawan, “Obi-Wan.”
The two men turn towards the door, Obi-Wan’s eyes silently sending his thanks.

(Y/N) smiles at her friend and then returns her attention to Anakin, who seems a bit distressed to have been left behind.

“Why do they want to meet me?”
(Y/N)’s never been one to shirk from the truth, so she answers honestly, “You have a very strong Force presence for someone your age and with no training. Something like that is always intriguing to the Council.”
Anakin frowns and asks tentatively, “Will they...not want me?”
“No, the interest is from curiosity, not reservation or suspicion. You’ll be allowed into the Order, I imagine you’ll be taken as a Padawan quickly.”
“Padawan?”

“It’s the name of a Jedi’s apprentice. Most Force users are brought to the Temple at a younger age than you. Younglings are too young to enter an apprenticeship. They stay at the Temple, and focus on general education and the basics of Jedi practices. Then, you’re taken as a Padawan. A Jedi Knight or Master will train you to use the Force and you’ll go out on missions. You’re old enough to already have a standard education, and you clearly have a strong grasp on the Force, so you’ll be taken as an apprentice soon.”

Anakin’s head tilts like a bird as he thinks about what she said. He eventually asks, “Do I get to make my own laser sword?”

(Y/N) smiles at the phrasing and corrects gently, “Lightsaber. And, yes.”

“Wizard! I’m a mechanic,” Anakin boasts, “I should be able to make a good one.”

“You don’t construct your lightsaber like an engine, you use the Force.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“You use the Force,” (Y/N) plucks her saber from her belt, using the Force to turn it slowly in the air, “to put the pieces together. You don’t use tools. First, though, you need to get your kyber crystal.”

“Kyber crystal?”

(Y/N) peers at him for a moment and then says lightly, “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“What?! Why?”

“You aren’t a member of the Order yet, I shouldn’t be telling you all of our secrets.”

Anakin crosses his arms, glaring at her playfully, “Come on, you said so yourself that I’ll join the Order no problem.”

(Y/N) looks at him with a teasing look of suspicion.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone that you told me before it was made official,” he assures her, showing his fingers in what she assumes is a symbol of trustworthiness on his homeworld.

(Y/N) smiles, “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I better not catch any flak for this or coming after you,” she threatens with a wave of her finger, “A kyber crystal is what powers the saber, it creates the colored blade.”

“Oh. Well...where do I get one? At the store?” Anakin shakes his head, looking worried, “Cause I don’t have any money.”

“It’s not something you buy,” she laughs lightly, “You’ll travel to Illum, a planet sacred to the Jedi, and enter the cave there. You’ll find your crystal inside.”

Anakin frowns, “Why doesn’t someone just gather the crystals and bring them here? It seems like a more efficient way to do it instead of making each person travel to Illum.”

She shakes her head, “It isn’t as simple as walking into the cave and grabbing the first crystal you find. There’s a specific crystal meant for you, no one else will be able to sense which one it is and just bring it to you. You’ll have to get it yourself.”

“A crystal meant just for me?” Anakin’s brow furrows with concern, “What if I lose it?”

“That’s greatly discouraged, but it’s not the end of the world if you do. You just have to go back and find another.”

“Have you ever lost one?”

“No,” (Y/N) replies, adding conspiratorially, “but I’ve heard from multiple people that Master Qui-Jon lost two during his years as a Padawan.”

Anakin laughs, “Really?”
“It’s what I hear,” she shrugs, “but don’t tell him that I told you.”
“I won’t,” he promises, “I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

(Y/N) looks over at the door to the High Council Chamber.

“What is it?” Anakin asks, looking over as well.

“Obi-Wan’s about to come retrieve you.”
“Are you going to come?”
(Y/N) glances at the nearby window, trying to do the math on what time it is, “Yes, I can come.”

The door opens and Obi-Wan’s head pokes out.

Anakin puffs out his small chest, trying to appear brave even though (Y/N) can sense his nerves, and starts walking.

You’re coming? Obi-Wan’s voice fills her head.

He asked, (Y/N) shrugs minutely, And I have some time before I leave.

The three of them step into the chamber and Anakin approaches Qui-Gon where he stands in the center of the room. 
(Y/N) barely gives the conversation that starts any attention, focusing on Obi-Wan instead, Where did you find him?

Tatooine.

She offers a small frown.

Hutt Space, Obi-Wan says dismissively, desert planet with almost no civilization. Unremarkable. Forgettable.

You sound like you had fun there.

Please, he scoffs, I didn’t even leave the ship. I was left behind to try and repair the hyperdrive.

Master Windu seems irritated, (Y/N) observes as Qui-Gon walks over towards them. Anakin remains in the center of the room. Alone.

A familiar image.

Qui-Gon pushed for Anakin to be tested. Master Windu doesn’t like others forcing things onto the Council. None of them do.

(Y/N) doesn’t have a reply. I have tried to tell him this, Obi-Wan continues, He could have been made a member years ago if he would just play by the rules. He’s wise enough and experienced enough, it’s his defiance of the Council that prevents him from sitting with them. 
Is it not good to have some independence from the Council? (Y/N) asks, Despite what some think, the sun does not rise and set on their say-so.

You sound like him.

(Y/N) smirks, That’s a compliment, Obi-Wan, given how you just called him wise enough to be a member of the Council. 
Obi-Wan glares at her. He chooses to move on, offering, I will concede that Anakin is strong with the Force. He won a podrace, something that’s supposed to be impossible for humans.

And we do impossible things everyday.

Exactly. And his midi-chlorian count is over twenty thousand.

(Y/N)’s head snaps over to him, eyes widening, Really?

He nods minutely, glancing around the room.

(Y/N) clamps down on her surprise and subtly checks to see if anyone sensed her strong emotion.

Yaddle’s clever eyes watch her for a moment before returning to Anakin.

That’s higher than Master Yoda’s, Obi-Wan adds.

That’s...very strange. (Y/N) doesn’t know Master Yoda’s count by heart like Obi-Wan apparently does, but she knows it’s incredibly significant that Anakin outnumbers him.

Qui-Gon believes he may have been conceived by the midi-chlorians.

So he...

Yes, Qui-Gon has become convinced that the boy is the Chosen One.

You aren’t?

I don’t have a strong enough feeling either way to give an opinion.

(Y/N)’s eyebrow quirks, You sound upset. She wants to say ‘jealous’, but doesn’t want to hurt her friend's feelings.

He doesn’t answer. Which confirms it, though she doesn’t think he realizes that.

He changes the subject again, Where are you going?

(Y/N) keeps the smile from her face, I’m going to face the trials.

What?!

(Y/N) glances at Obi-Wan, letting her amusement reflect in her eyes. 
He glares at her, I wish you wouldn’t do that.

But it’s just so much fun.

Not to me, Obi-Wan says grumpily, I’m roughly a decade your senior and I’m nowhere near the trials.

Maybe it’s because you still pout like a youngling.

If we weren’t before the Council…

(Y/N) smiles smugly and decides to give the actual answer to his question, I’m going on a mission with Shaak. Nothing too exciting...then again, your mission to Naboo was labeled that.

How long?

A week, maybe, and then she adds conspiratorially, And I wouldn’t go around internalizing the idea that you’re nowhere near the trials.

Obi-Wan looks at her, What have you heard?

Not too much, so don’t get excited.

Tell me. It’s more than I’ve heard, he complains.

Shaak said in passing that Qui-Gon has been speaking very highly of you. He always does, by the way, but she said it seems like he’s going to push for you to face the trials.

Really? Obi-Wan asks, pleased.

Yes. So maybe his defiance of the Council is sometimes a good thing, (Y/N) points out, since the Council is supposed to decide that stuff on their own. Shaak thinks he’ll advocate for it more strongly than other Masters do.

I hope he does, I feel that I’m ready.

Don’t let Master Yoda hear that, (Y/N) teases, You know how much he hates boldness.

Obi-Wan glances at her. He says carefully, You know that my...I do think you’ll face the trials soon.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows rise, I know.

Alright. Just wanted to be sure.

She offers him a small smile, I tease you, but I agree that you’re ready. I think you’ll be a great Jedi Knight.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker away, Our conversation has not gone unnoticed, Master Qui-Gon just told me to pay attention.

(Y/N) lets the smile slip from her face and focuses on Anakin.

What’s happening, have you been listening?

No, not at all.

Aren’t we a pair. 
“Afraid are you?” Yoda asks Anakin. Goodness, he looks so small standing there in the center of the room all alone. 
“No, sir.”

“See through you we can. Be mindful of your feelings.”

(Y/N) looks at Master Yoda, recalling how intimidating the small Jedi had appeared when she had been presented to the Council. 
“Your thoughts dwell on your mother,” Master Mundi voices what they can all sense. 
“I miss her,” Anakin says the words like everyone else is stupid for not understanding. (Y/N) feels a small pang of sympathy for the boy, recalling how quickly she had been expected to move on from her parents’ deaths.

“Mmm. Afraid to lose her, I think, hmm?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”
“Everything,” Yoda answers, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”
(Y/N) glances around the room at the other Masters.

Yoda speaks again, telling Anakin, “I sense much fear in you.”
 
***
 
(Y/N) triplechecks the lightsabers on her belt, feeling a bit silly having two at her hips with one already in her hand.

“Be patient, young one,” Shaak says.

“I know, Master,” (Y/N) replies, doing a very poor job at hiding her displeasure.

“Master Windu is going to speak to them,” Shaak continues, “and see if we can settle this without violence.”

“There already is violence,” (Y/N) remarks impatiently. She feels Luminara glance over at her at that reponse. (Y/N) meets her gaze easily, “What?”

“There’s a difference between this,” she indicates the arena, “and a war.”

“This,” (Y/N) also points at the arena, “is war.”

“We have not declared war,” Luminara states.

“The Jedi cannot declare war,” Shaak corrects.

“I’m not talking about the Jedi,” (Y/N) explains, “I’m talking about the Republic. It won’t stand for the two assassination attempts and the attempted execution of a sitting Senator. And I think they’ll also take offense to the attempted executions of two Jedi.”
“It is true that the Republic will respond to this, regardless of how it ends,” Shaak says, “but there are alternatives to war.”
“Peaceful negotiation,” Luminara adds, “will always be preferred to war.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, “The Republic has already attempted peaceful negotiation. Through the Separatist Movement’s inception, more systems joining, and the whispers of an army being built, the Republic has applied negotiating and appeasing strategies. Now, the Separatists have openly attacked members of the Republic. Peace is preferred, but it is no longer an option. Not when efforts toward it have been met with this.”

Luminara looks at her silently.

(Y/N) doesn’t return the look this time, keeping her eyes on the scene before them. This debacle has improved since their initial arrival, considering Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padmé are no longer bound to the columns. But that’s about it when it comes to bettering the odds. The heavy hitters are still in play, she glances up at where she can just barely see the blade of Mace’s purple lightsaber, and there’s an entire army of droids probably waiting in the wings given the droidekas that have surrounded her friends.

Shaak steps forward and (Y/N) follows at her side, triggering her lightsaber. The green blade emerges as Shaak’s and Luminara’s blades do, as well as the countless greens and blues that pop up all around the arena. 
The Geonosians take to the sky, fleeing the impending fight. 
“Look.”

(Y/N) looks away from her friends at Shaak’s prompting to see Mace falling from the balcony. The man lands easily on the ground and quickly removes his robe as troops of battle droids start charging into the arena.

(Y/N) springs into action, lightsaber cutting through the air as red blaster fire comes from all sides. She takes off running towards the one creature that her friends are using as a mount, extra lightsabers lightly smacking against her legs as she moves. She reaches the horned beast with relative ease, distantly flanked by other Jedi that fight off the countless droids, smiling up at the slightly dumbstruck looks that Obi-Wan and Anakin still wear. It seems the shock from the sudden arrival of the Jedi is still wearing off.

“Here you go, boys,” she calls, tossing up the lightsabers one by one. She offers a joking salute and turns to face the droids. 
 
***
 
“Wait,” (Y/N) blinks, “The what?”
“Jedi Generals,” Shaak repeats easily. 
(Y/N) blinks at her again, “I don’t understand, they want us leading the troops?”

“Yes, some of them. The Kaminoans have educated certain clones to a level that they can handle the upper chains of command. But the Jedi will be assigned legions and lead them in the fighting.”

“But we are not meant to go to war.”
“We have gone to war many times in our past, young one.”
“Yes,” (Y/N) concedes, “against the Sith and in our own interest. But this isn’t like that. This is a galactic war, and we’d be fighting on behalf of the Republic.”

Shaak folds her hands together, “We are a part of the Republic.”

“Are we not meant to be separate? Is neutrality not a part of our Order?”

“Neutrality in politics, not when it comes to the Republic. We are it’s protectors.”
(Y/N) frowns, looking down the hallway at the door she’s expected to go through soon, “How are we qualified to lead entire legions? Yes, we know how to use a saber and have an understanding of battle strategy. But...”
“The Republic is very knowledgeable,” Shaak explains, “We have fought in battles, they have seen that we can lead. And the clones who fought alongside us on Geonosis have given reports on our performances.”

“They have?” (Y/N) shifts her weight, a bit uncomfortable with the idea that she had been monitored by people who are supposed to be her allies. And, thanks to the small part of her vanity that lingers despite it having no place in her life, a bit concerned about where her performance ranks compared to the other Jedi.

“Yes, young one. The Republic is not foolish, this scenario was anticipated. They are not going to enter a war blind. If you have not proven yourself capable of managing troops, they will not be assigned to your command.”

“And I’ll be left here?”

“Perhaps,” Shaak replies, “but you are still a fighter, even if you aren’t a leader. It’s most likely that you’ll be assigned to work alongside a Jedi who was given troops.”

(Y/N) purses her lips, not exactly pleased with being conscripted into this war. But, there’s a chance she’ll be able to fight alongside Shaak again. Which is nice.

“What is it?”

(Y/N) swallows her sigh. She can’t say what she’s thinking. But she can bring up something else bothering her, “Are we not meant to be keepers of the peace?”

“Yes.”

“How is going to war...peaceful?”

“It is our job to protect the Republic.”

“It is not our job to plunge the galaxy into war while doing so.”

“The Separatists are the ones responsible for that,” Shaak counters, “We cannot stand by and do nothing as the Republic is torn apart and the galaxy set ablaze.”
(Y/N) bites the inside of her cheek, not at all happy with that answer. It barely sounds like Shaak. She can’t just let this go. “We aren’t meant to be soldiers in their army. We’re meant to be peacekeepers.”
“We are declaring war in the name of peace.”

(Y/N) focuses all of her energy into not letting her emotions reflect on her face or become loud enough that Shaak can sense them.

Declaring war in the name of peace. That makes no sense whatsoever.

“I understand, Master. Thank you.”

“The Republic and Council agree this is the best route, young one,” Shaak says, possibly hearing something in her voice. Or maybe it’s evident in how (Y/N) immediately gives up the fight that she isn’t happy.

She nods, not trusting herself enough to speak at this moment.

Her gaze lowers to the floor. Perhaps she’s wrong. After all, the Republic and Council agree. Who is (Y/N) to disagree with them? She isn’t anywhere near as experienced or as wise as any single member of the Council, let alone the entire group of Masters.

Perhaps she’s just looking at things the wrong way. 
 
***
 
“General (L/N).”

(Y/N) blinks a few times, her mind taking a moment to realize that’s her. She looks over at the voice, “Yes?”

A clone is looking at her expectantly. He wears the standard armor that all the troops wear, except it has a light green accent coloring. His face is clean shaven. Again this is what seems to be the typical look for a clone, although she has occasionally spotted some well-maintained facial hair. His hair is pulled back into a neat, simple topknot.

“I’m CC-4835,” the clone offers promptly, “I’m the Commander of the 378th Legion. I’m to be your second in command.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) says, scrambling to think of something somewhat intelligent to follow that up with, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” she approaches him, lifting her hand.

CC-4835 takes it, applying a nice, firm grip, “The pleasure is mine, General. Kicks told me about your role on Geonosis.”

(Y/N) had, apparently, thoroughly impressed whatever troopers had reported to the Republic on the fighting on Geonosis. And she had been rewarded with one of the more sizable Jedi-led legions as a result. She still isn’t sure how she feels about the whole monitoring business.

The weight of that role and position, and the lives that she is now responsible for, is still settling onto her shoulders. As is the new armor she is expected to wear. White, similar to what the clones wear, with a red stamp of the Jedi Order on her arm. She isn’t sure how she feels about that symbol being placed on battle armor either.

Still uncomfortable with all the praise that had been heaped on her, which CC-4835 is currently adding to, (Y/N) instead asks, “Kicks?”

“Oh, sorry, sir, CT-7822. Us clones don’t really use our identifying codes when we talk amongst ourselves.”

“I understand,” (Y/N) says genuinely, because she would hate to address people by sets of numbers and be addressed in that manner in return. The clones might not be considered people to some, which is disgusting to even think, but they are to each other, “What do you go by?”

CC-4835 smiles, “Taps, sir. I like to use dadita, which can be done by tapping.”
(Y/N) nods, “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Taps. Do you know when I’ll be able to meet the rest of my troops?”
“They arrived earlier today, General,” Taps supplies, “We should be getting our first assignment soon. If you want to meet them, we should probably go now.”

“Of course, lead the way.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Get down!”

(Y/N) throws herself in the opposite direction of that yell, body striking the ground moments before the missile does. Chunks of hot metal crash to the ground around her as dirt and other debris rains down. Something lands on her calf and she hisses more from instinct than actual pain and jerks her leg to dispel the foreign object. The fabric of her boot protects her well enough that she only faintly feels the heat of what was likely a part of the projectile’s shell.

As the both literal and proverbial dust settles, she lifts her head, lowering her arm from where it had been shielding her. There are groans all around her as her troops climb to their feet and shake off their own disorientation. (Y/N) pushes herself up, hands sliding in the loose, wet dirt. Hmm. Hopefully it's wet from just water and not blood from an injury that her adrenaline-fueled body is refusing to register at the moment.  
She rises, looking to the left as she wipes the back of her hand across her cheek. Well, that explains it. Their command center that should have been both monitoring for and defending against long-range missiles has been reduced to ash. 
“Is there an ETA on that air support?” (Y/N) asks into her com.

“Negative, sir.”

(Y/N) clenches her jaw. They had been promised support ‘in five minutes’ roughly twenty minutes ago. They had only made this retreat as a means to buy time. They’ve run out of room. 
“How about any other support?”
“No, General,” comes the reply, “I’ve been trying to get in-touch with someone but I think our long-range is out.”

(Y/N) sighs, lowering her arm. Seems they’re on their own. She turns to call out to her Commander who is not far from her, “Taps-”
“Incoming!”
(Y/N) doesn’t even bother to turn, she simply raises her arms to try and protect herself. The missile strikes the ground with earth-shaking impact and detonates. The heat of the explosion brushes against her whole body as the force of the blast knocks her backwards. Her feet leave the ground as someone cries, “General!”

Her back and left shoulder strike the ground first as she promptly tumbles directly over the edge of the cliff and down its steep side. A body in white armor falls with her and (Y/N) grabs at them. Her feet skid against the rock, slowing her descent, and her free hand manages to snag a larger chunk. Her fingers claw into the rock, wrapping around a root partially buried in the cliff’s side. She grunts as her body jerks to a stop and the clone’s weight yanks on her arm. She grimaces briefly in pain and looks down at the trooper, immediately recognizing the little feather art on the helmet. 
“You alright, Wings?” The root starts to shift in her grasp. It won’t hold them both. 
“Yes, sir,” Wings’s head tilts back so he can look up at her.

“Get ready to hold up to your name,” (Y/N) says in warning.

“Sir, what are yo-ahhhh!” Wings’s question cuts off with a scream as (Y/N) yanks her arm upward, using the Force to aid in her efforts at tossing him back up the cliff and over the top. She watches carefully to make sure he makes it to safety, pleased to see he does so with room to spare. She can hear him already barking orders as she starts to climb.

“General!” Ice yells down at her, “Just hang on, sir!”

“Go!” (Y/N) calls up at the several helmets peering down at her, “Stop the ship!” This will all have been for nothing if that blasted ship gets away.

Her foot breaks lose a part of the cliff that she had been trying to use as a foothold and it falls down below the clouds, because that’s how ridiculously high they are, and beyond her sight. Undeterred, she continues, glancing up occasionally to see white and green helmets still watching her.

“Guys,” she grouses. They’re wasting time waiting here for her.

“Taps took the others,” one of them offers.

(Y/N) shakes her head and keeps climbing.

Wings and Three-Four lower their hands and help pull her back onto the flat surface.

She takes her lightsaber back from Ice, who only offers, “You dropped this.”

“Thanks. Let’s go.”

(Y/N) leads the small group of troopers to where the others are still fighting the droids. She looks up at the Federation ship blasting away, taking their target with it.

“There’s that air support!” Someone calls out over the coms.

Her gaze is drawn further down the horizon where Republic gunships are flying directly at the Federation ship with the speed and precision of a heat-seeking missile. More ships follow them. The Federation ship has no escort, she had seen to that personally, so it will soon be shot down.

“It’s about time!”

“Ya-hoo! Shoot down those clankers!”
(Y/N)’s blood is still hot for battle, though. For victory. 
“Cover me,” she orders, clipping her saber back to her belt.

The clones all turn away from her, blasters raised.

(Y/N) lifts her arms and takes a deep breath as her eyes close. She pushes out with the Force, willing her intent to become a reality. (Y/N) feels cold metal against the palms of her hands and she curls her fingers.

“You’ve got it, sir,” Three-Four observes.

(Y/N)’s eyes open and she can see how the ship is hovering in place. Its thrusters are still firing, but the ship refuses to rise higher. She can feel it fighting her, but (Y/N) and the 378th came here for a reason. And she’s going to see it through.

The thrusters kick up as her troops run around and (Y/N) grimaces, twisting her hands, “Shoot it down.”

“General,” Three-Four reports, “they’ve destroyed our heavy artillery and our blasters won’t make a dent.”

(Y/N)’s knee bends as she tries to better brace her foot against the muddy ground, feeling like she’s starting to lose the tug of war with this ship. If there was a real rope between them, instead of just the one she’s created in her mind, it would be pulling her across the ground towards the ship.

“Get everyone away from the ship,” she says through her teeth. (Y/N) takes a breath to center herself and feels the Force fluctuate around her, “I’m ending this.”

Ice starts barking commands into his com and someone, (Y/N) doesn’t have the brain power to turn and actually see who, runs off towards the others.

“General,” Wings says, stepping closer, “are you alright?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) says calmly, “Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

(Y/N) lifts her back foot, clenches her fists, and slams her foot back down while yanking her arms to her body. The ground under her feet actually cracks from the force she’s exerting from every cell in her body. The bottom of the ship crumples and explodes, thrusters dying and the entire ship starts listing to the side dramatically.

She snaps her arms to the sides, ripping the metal of the ship like it was a piece of paper. It crashes to the ground and (Y/N) lets out a deep breath while dropping her hands. Black spots dance in her vision, but she just blinks them away as she grins triumphantly. 
And then she’s marching towards the ship, lightsaber back in hand, “Let’s go, men!” 
***
 
(Y/N) sneaks a brief glance at Obi-Wan, noting the way the hairs around his mouth twitch with displeasure.

“I appreciate you joining me on my walk to the gallows,” she says quietly, “but I think it’s best that I go in alone.”

She glances over to Obi-Wan once more and is pleased to see a smile now under his beard. He offers, “You know this is all for show.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she mutters.

“No one in there will take his side.”

(Y/N) doesn’t answer. 
“(Y/N).”
“Look, Obi-Wan, I know I’m right and you know I’m right. But we’re at war and the Republic won’t tolerate infighting.”

Obi-Wan strokes his chin in thought. She frowns to herself. That might be a new personal record on fastest undoing of her own efforts. She had started the conversation in hopes of cheering him up, only for her own self-doubt to ruin it.

“Don’t worry about me,” (Y/N) assures him, “I’ll be fine either way.”

“General Kenobi, General (L/N).”

They both turn around to see Admiral Edi walking down the hallway.

“Admiral Edi,” (Y/N) replies equally as cold.

Edi’s features twist, arranging themselves into an even more unpleasant expression than his normal face looks. (Y/N) hadn’t thought that was possible.

“Will you be joining us, General Kenobi?”
“Oh, no, I was just in the area,” Obi-Wan answers casually, “I didn’t even know this was happening today.”“I’m sure,” Edi says and looks at (Y/N) with a barely hidden sneer, “General (L/N), I’ll see you inside.”
(Y/N) offers a wonderful little fake smile that she’s managed to perfect after just two years of working closely with politicians and Republic-appointed officers. Edi enters the room they had all been standing by and she mutters, “I know the Jedi aren’t supposed to hate, but I think I’ve got to make an exception for that guy.”

“(Y/N),” Obi-Wan scolds quietly, “you shouldn’t say things like that.”

She smirks, “Going to report me?”

“No, but if anyone else were to hear that-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she waves a dismissive hand, “I swear, sometimes it feels like the only ones left in the galaxy that still have a sense of humor are us two.”

“I’d say there’s at least three left.”

(Y/N) ponders the statement for a moment before asking, “Hondo?”

Obi-Wan laughs and nods, “Hondo.”

She smiles at him, grateful for the brief distraction from the situation.

He adds, “You do need to be careful, though. This,” Obi-Wan gestures at the door, “is a joke. But the Council-”

“I’m well aware of what the Council would do, thank you. But did you see his sniveling face? That’s why I said you shouldn’t come in. They already think I don’t respect the chain of command, I can’t have them thinking I brought you along to gang up on everyone.”

“I’m hardly a ruffian. And they don’t think that,” Obi-Wan protests.

“They might after this,” (Y/N) looks at the door and sighs, “…I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Good luck,” he offers.

“Thanks.” (Y/N) sets her features and rolls her shoulders back. She opens the door and enters the room, brown robe flowing behind her as she walks to the open seat. (Y/N) sits down, crossing her legs, completely at ease. She greets the man in the other chair, even though they’d just greeted each other in the hallway not two minutes ago, “Admiral.”

(Y/N) looks at the people sitting at the long table who all watch her and Edi. She’s grateful for the long sleeves of her robe that will hide any fidgeting of her fingers. She’s burning hot to cold to hot again. Just one glimpse of the uppity Admiral had served as an excellent reminder of just how utterly ridiculous this whole thing is. And yet looking at the steely expressions of the people sitting opposite of her, she can’t help but feel herself getting nervous once more.

“General,” Director Marels starts, “before we begin, I wanted to thank you for coming down today. I know you were supposed to be leaving on a mission this morning, I do apologize that this matter has delayed that.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows raise slightly, surprised that the first thing being said here is an apology. And to her. Perhaps Obi-Wan was right?

“Thank you, Director Marels,” she answers politely, “Yes, I’m expected on Genassa, but another day won’t do any damage. And I’d like to settle this matter before it does.”

Marels nods.

“So,” (Y/N) prompts, “what seems to be the problem?”

A woman named Pli, whose rank (Y/N) doesn’t know, supplies, “Admiral Edi has filed a complaint against you.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. About what?”

“He alleges that you made his troops follow your orders in direct violation and contrast of his own.”

(Y/N) raises a delicate eyebrow, but says nothing. Is this really the only charge that Edi can lay against her? She expected there to be more for him to have taken it this far.

Pli asks, “Did you, General (L/N)? Did his troops follow your orders?”

“Those are two different questions. But, yes, his troops followed my orders instead of his.”

Admiral Edi has a triumphant air to his voice as he says, “See?”

Marels doesn’t even react to Edi, instead asking her, “How are they different questions?”

“It's not my fault his troops disobeyed his orders,” (Y/N) supplies, “This issue doesn’t concern me, may I leave?”

Edi scowls at her, “It most certainly does concern you.”

(Y/N) says nothing and doesn’t even look at the man.

A different woman, another Director, she thinks, Gaepra, asks, “Why does this not concern you?”

“There are two explanations as to why Admiral Edi’s troops disobeyed his orders, and neither reason places fault on me. The first is that his troops were insubordinate and disobeyed his order. In that case, you should contact Jedi Master Shaak Ti, who is currently on Kamino. She can inform the Kaminoans that the Republic is dissatisfied with their troops and they should make the next batch more complacent.”

“And the second reason?”

“Admiral Edi’s troops chose to follow a superior order.”

Edi sputters angrily beside her.

(Y/N) continues, ignoring his attempts at protest before it can really start. She can feel herself picking up steam, barely keeping the smirk from her face, “They chose to follow my order and my troops because they recognized the better plan. And they were right, given how the troops that followed my direction were successful and those who followed Admiral Edi’s weren’t. Clones aren’t mindless followers. If you wanted that, you should have commissioned a droid army. Admiral Edi’s troops probably saw how my men regularly return from missions, while many of his seem to be replaced every lunar cycle. If this is the case, the issue with Admiral Edi’s leadership skills.”

She finally deigns to look at the man and finds an unbecoming amount of pleasure in how red his face is as he snaps at the people at the table, “Are you just going to let her speak about me and to all of you like that?”

The silence is response enough.

(Y/N) looks back to see Marels has gone so far as to appraise Edi with an air of something bordering on disdain.

(Y/N) speak again, “Am I dismissed? Senator Amidala has requested my presence at the Senate session, and I’d hate for things to be delayed for my sake. The proceedings take long enough as is.”

Gaepla nods, “You may leave. Thank you for coming in and we’re sorry to have wasted your time.”

(Y/N) looks at Edi with an expression that says everything she’d like to say aloud, before departing. The door clicks shut behind her. 
 
***
 
Anakin is looking at her expectantly, and doing a rather pisspoor job at hiding it.

(Y/N) quirks her eyebrow pointedly, gaze flickering to Obi-Wan who can easily see all of this if he happened to be looking for it. She offers, She’s alright, I saw her before we left, absently rubbing her palm where she can still feel the warmth of Padmé’s touch, She just wants you home safe. So try not to do anything too stupid while we’re here.

She chooses not to mention the fact that Padmé is pregnant, as it’s not her place to break the news and this also isn’t really the time for her to tell him something so monumental if it was. They have important work to do, he can’t be distracted from that.

It’s unfortunate that (Y/N) is aware of the pregnancy before Anakin, seeing as he’s the father. But that’s one of the many costs of this war, she guesses. Anakin has been away handling sieges recently while (Y/N) had been spending more time on Coruscant and in the Core as of late. It was inevitable that she would find out first. (Y/N) had offered her assistance and company to Padmé, which the other woman had expressed her thanks for and accepted the latter, but it’s a very strange situation. (Y/N) technically shouldn’t be aware of Padmé and Anakin’s relationship, never mind that they’ve gone so far as to marry and are now going to have a child. Well, children. That’s something new she sensed while last visiting Padmé. She’s going to keep that one to herself even after Anakin is in the loop, though, simply because she thinks it’ll bring about the funniest outcome.

Again, it’s strange. Anakin is clearly in direct violation of the Jedi Code here. (Y/N) might be as well, given her silence. Though things are a bit blurry on that aspect as there are certainly other Jedi that suspect if not outright know. She’s said nothing about it because, frankly, it’s none of her damn business. She’s not going to snitch and break her friend’s trust over a matter she doesn’t really see a problem in. The whole ‘no attachments’ rule had always seemed iffy to her, as well as not very practical in practice. (Y/N)’s far more inclined to believe in that ‘sweet spot’ that she and Shaak had once spoken of. Anakin has loved Padmé for years and he’s no closer to the dark side than he was as a little boy on Tatooine. He’s managed to find the balance between his sense and his attachments. What gives (Y/N) the right to try and mess with that?

And then there’s also the fact that it’s a very real possibility that Anakin will leave the Order entirely. He’s managed a secret marriage well enough, though neither he or Padmé are as subtle as they think they are, but (Y/N) doubts he will be able to keep up the effort after children get involved. She will be incredibly sad to see him leave and will miss him terribly, if it comes to that, but she will respect his choice and wish him and his family well. And it’s not like she won’t be able to visit them afterwards. Best of luck to whoever tries to stop her.

Anakin smiles at her briefly, signature brushing against hers in thanks.

R2 whistles to draw their attention. He projects a small holo of the ship’s layout and Obi-Wan points, “The Chancellor’s signal is coming from right there, the observation platform at the top of that spire.”

“I sense Count Dooku,” Anakin announces.

(Y/N) directs her attention away from where she currently stands and reaches out with the Force. Yes. There he is. Definitely on this ship.

“I sense a trap.”

“Next move?”

Obi-Wan grins, “Spring the trap.”

“We should separate,” Shaak decides, “(Y/N) and I will seek out Grievous while the two of you rescue the Chancellor.”

“Very well.”

(Y/N) bows her head silently in deference and follows Shaak, hands tucked behind her back as Obi-Wan and Anakin chat with R2 briefly. She had not sensed Grievous in her brief search for Dooku’s presence so she will follow Shaak’s lead. She could try to reach out into the Force again, but Grievous is not so easily detected as there isn’t much living tissue left to sense. And, despite his use of lightsabers, he doesn’t use the Force so his presence in that sense is also limited. But this is his ship, and he had been the one to snatch Palpatine from the heart of the Republic, so he is obviously here.

It would be a great victory for the Republic if Palpatine could be rescued and Grievous killed on the same day. And since Dooku is also onboard, he could also be captured today. And then the war would finally be over.

(Y/N) walks quickly though the halls with Shaak, easily sneaking past large squadrons of droids. She glances back at a group of battle droids, smirking. It’s shocking how incompetent those droids could be at times.

Her head turns back around sharply as her shoulders stiffen, “Master.”

“I sense it, too.”

They turn a corner and are greeted with the coughing laughter of General Grievous.

“Master Ti,” Grievous rasps, “And little (Y/N) (L/N). Welcome.”

(Y/N)’s features twist in irritation. She doesn’t mind Shaak calling her ‘young one’, she actually enjoys the small holdover from her apprenticeship under the other woman. But (Y/N) has no tolerance for others calling her ‘young’ or ‘little’. She’s been a Jedi Knight for years now, and she’s practically a Master at this point if she is to be bold enough to say outright what everyone else won’t. Who is this asthmatic cyborg to treat her as nothing more than a child playing pretend?

“You won’t get away with this, Grievous,” Shaak states, shifting into a fighting stance.

(Y/N) pulls her robe from her shoulders, allowing it to slide down her arms and fall to the ground. She takes her lightsaber into her hand.

“We shall see,” he replies while pulling a saber from his cloak. (Y/N)’s jaw clenches as her thumb brushes over the trigger of her own. Did she know the true owner of the blade? The large door to the left suddenly rises, revealing two droids wielding dual-sided electrostaffs.

“I will handle Grievous,” Shaak instructs quietly, “You deal with those.”

“Gladly,” (Y/N) springs into action, taking one droid by surprise. She manages to slice its head clean off, lifting her boot to slam into its chest. She twirls around, attacking the other. She can hear the buzzing of the first’s electrostaff as it swings through the air and she ducks. The two staffs clash over her head and (Y/N) spins on her knee, getting out of range and also getting a moment to appraise the headless droid. It seems this model doesn’t go down so easily. She flips her lightsaber and swings upward, slicing through one of its legs. The droid falls, staff still whirling as it continues its attack efforts. Her saber flips once more and plunges into the droid’s chest, green blade piercing through the metal with ease.

She releases the hilt so her hand can fly up and intercept the electrostaff being brought down over her head. The metal strikes her palm and she clamps her fingers around it. The droid tries to yank the staff from her grasp, but (Y/N) merely grins at the fruitless effort. She retakes her lightsaber in her other hand and climbs back to her feet, shoving the staff upward as well. She moves quickly, cutting the arm of the droid. (Y/N) tosses aside the electrostaff, with the droid’s arm still holding it, and charges at the weaponless droid. It tries to punch her, but she sees it coming and dodges easily.

(Y/N) cuts down the droid and turns just in time to watch Grievous pull a second saber from his cloak to drive it straight through Shaak’s chest.

She screams, frozen in place by shock and grief as Shaak falls to the ground, “No!”

Grievous lunges at her and (Y/N) reacts a moment too late. His clawed foot slammed into her chest, launching her backwards. She strikes the metal wall behind her, hard, and she falls to the ground. Her chest and back are both screaming in agony. She wheezes in a breath, trying to recover from the wind being knocked out of her twice over. Grievous laughs briefly before switching to his usual hacking cough. He bends down and claims Shaak’s saber.

(Y/N) can only numbly stare at Shaak’s body as several droidekas surround her. Shaak had fallen in a way that makes it so her head is turned towards (Y/N) and she knows she will forever be haunted by the glazed over, empty look in her eyes.

Grievous steps over Shaak’s body like it’s nothing. His yellow eyes burn as he says, “Come along, General (L/N). You and your friends will join your old Master soon enough.”
 
***
 
(Y/N) stands in cuffs as Obi-Wan, Anakin, Palpatine, and R2 are brought in.

“Ah, yes. The negotiator,” Grievous greets them, “General Kenobi, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze flickers over to look at her, a question in his eyes about the whereabouts of Shaak, as a battle droid pushes past him.

(Y/N) shakes her head somberly, Grievous.

Grievous snatches the captured lightsabers away from the droid, observing, “That wasn’t much of a rescue.”

He has my saber as well, what’s the plan?

R2 will cause a distraction and we can get them back.

Dooku?

Dead.

Well, at least this trip hasn’t been a total bust.

“And, Anakin Skywalker,” Grievous continues, completely unaware of the continuing exchange between herself and Obi-Wan as he steps closer to his new target, “I was expecting someone of your reputation to be a little...older.”

“General Grievous,” Anakin had turned his head away from the cyborg to try and keep some distance between them. He looks at (Y/N) with mirth in his eyes before continuing, “you’re shorter than I expected.”

Grievous coughs and then snarls, “Jedi scum.”

“We have a job to do, Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolds half-heartedly, “Try not to upset him.”

I mean really, (Y/N) adds, what will Padmé say when she finds out you’ve picked up on Obi-Wan’s habit of flirting with anything that moves?

Oh, shut up. Speaking of, I think it’s time to have the intervention we keep discussing. He’s getting to be ridiculous. I can only imagine how bad it would have been if we hadn’t been called away from Mandalore.

(Y/N) smirks.

What are you two talking about? Obi-Wan glares at her.

Nothing good.

Is it ever?

Give me a minute to try and think of a time.

“Your lightsabers,” Grievous taunts Obi-Wan and Anakin, “will make a fine addition to my collection. I have the perfect spot for them right beside General (L/N)’s.”

“A fine addition, yes. Unfortunately, not permanent,” (Y/N) informs him.

“So sure, General?”

“Yes.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan adds, “And you also won’t get away this time.”

“R2,” Anakin orders.

R2 starts beeping, all of his features and appliances firing at once. It’s a short-lived attention grabber, but a split second is all they really needed. Obi-Wan spins, hand flexing at the small of his back where it’s cuffed to the other. His lightsaber flies out from Grievous’ cloak as (Y/N) jumps, scooping her arms down and around her feet to bring them to her front. In a flash, Obi-Wan has cut through the cuffs on both (Y/N) and Anakin.

“Crush them!” Grievous snarls, “Make them suffer!”

(Y/N) raises her freed hands to call her and Shaak’s lightsabers to them. The green and blue blades trigger and (Y/N) twirls them to block blaster fire. Grievous is running around the cockpit, barking orders and shoving droids. She tries to follow, but is intercepted by battle droids. (Y/N) swallows her sigh and cuts through them quickly while keeping an eye on Grievous’s movements, moving forward to engage some of those electrostaff-wielding droids that also stand in her way. She ducks to avoid the staff swinging towards the side of her head, tucking her blade up under the buzzing end to cut at the droid’s exposed legs. She straightens to catch the staff with Shaak’s saber and drives her own right through the droid’s chest. She kicks the staff dexterously with her foot to send it at another droid, who has to turn his staff to block it. (Y/N) jumps forward, taking advantage of the distraction. She kicks the droid in the chest, which makes it stumble back. She follows it, using the Force to yank its head forward. As the droid bends in half at her will, she cuts through its back with both lightsabers.

She then turns and jumps over a control panel, charging towards where Grievous is currently being engaged by Obi-Wan and Anakin. She holsters Shaak’s saber, worried there might be such a thing as too many lightsabers, and lifts her blade.

“You lose, General Kenobi,” Grievous mocks and throws an electrostaff right at a panel of glass. The staff punctures it easily and the glass shatters a moment later. Grievous is sucked out immediately and the rest of them scramble to grab ahold of something before they meet a similar fate. (Y/N)’s fingers curl around a chair as her body is lifted from the floor by the power of space’s vacuum.

One of them, she isn’t sure if it’s Obi-Wan or Anakin since they’re behind her, quickly manages to turn on the blast shields. The metal stops the vacuum and they all fall back to the floor. With the larger threat of Grievous gone, they eliminate the remaining droids with ease.

(Y/N) then marches up to where Obi-Wan and Anakin are, “I swear, one of these days, your freaky good luck-bad luck counterbalance thing will stop working and I’ll be the one who ends up paying the price.”

“We’re alive, aren’t we?” Anakin replies, “Quit your complaining.”

“Especially since we aren’t out of this mess yet,” Obi-Wan adds.

“Not you, too,” Anakin laments as he walks over to a monitor.

(Y/N) glances at Palpatine and can see quite visibly on his face that he’s wondering how the hell the three of them are some of the best Jedi Generals in the entire army and were the ones entrusted with the task of rescuing him.

“All of the escape pods have been launched,” Anakin reports.

“Grievous,” Obi-Wan grumbles, “Can you fly a cruiser like this?”

“You mean, do I know how to land what’s left of this thing?”

“Well?” Obi-Wan prompts, not even trying to deny it.

“Well,” Anakin says, “under the circumstances, I’d say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant. Strap yourselves in.”

“He actually means to ask if you can manage a crash landing that doesn’t end in a fiery explosion that kills all of us,” (Y/N) says helpfully as she sits down, “He was just trying to be optimistic for once.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan offers her a look, “and look where that got me.”

(Y/N) offers him a winning grin as she clicks into her seat.

“Can it, you two,” Anakin says, “Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fins.”

Obi-Wan starts pressing buttons immediately. For someone who endlessly complains about flying, he certainly knows his way around a cockpit.

Inertia slams (Y/N) forward against her seatbelt. Her stomach lurches up into the back of her throat and she nearly sees her breakfast make a reappearance. She grimaces and lifts a hand to rub her neck. This war has levied a large tax against her body and she acutely feels that fact at this moment as she can already tell she’ll be feeling this crash landing for weeks. Assuming they survive it, that is.

“We lost something,” Anakin provides.

“Not to worry,” Obi-Wan replies, “We are still flying half a ship.”

(Y/N) can’t stop the laugh that escapes her. She thanks her lucky stars that it’s Anakin and Obi-Wan that are on this mission with her. If it had been anyone else, she would likely be in a near-catatonic state after watching Shaak die in front of her. But the comfort and familiarity that she feels by being with them, even while on an unavoidable collision course with an entire planet, keeps her in decent enough spirits to laugh and joke.

As said planet looms closer and closer in the cockpit windows, they work as one to try and do what they can to improve their odds.

“Now we’re really picking up speed,” Anakin says, voice tense.

“Eight plus sixty.”

Chunks of metal break off from the ship all around them, red-hot pieces from the nose whipping past the cockpit. Their view is routinely obscured by the flares and flames of the ship’s reentry. The ship is shaking continuously and each rougher jostling has (Y/N) convinced the whole damn thing is about to fall apart around her.

“We’re in the atmosphere,” Obi-Wan reports.

“Grab that,” Anakin instructs, and she can see him point at something out of the corner of her eye, “Keep us level.”

They reach the lower part of the atmosphere, dropping below clouds and the cityscape now becoming more distinguishable.

“Steady.”

R2 beeps and whistles frantically.

“Easy, R2.”

(Y/N) glances to the left, quickly tapping away on the screen to override an emergency triggering of some sort of autopilot. She trusts Anakin far more than she does a ship. She calls to him, “She’s still yours, Anakin.”

“Five thousand,” Obi-Wan says, reaching over to patch in the coms, “Fire ships on the left and the right.”

“We’ll take you in,” one of the fire ship pilots greets.

“Copy that.”

“We need to find somewhere to land,” (Y/N) observes, fingers flying across the screen to her right, “We’re running out of air.”

“Landing strip,” Obi-Wan points, making her look back out the window, “straight ahead.”

“We’re coming in too hot,” Anakin says.

“Brace for impact,” (Y/N) says shortly before the bottom of whatever remains of the ship makes contact with the surface of Coruscant. Her warning does little to prepare them, everyone’s bodies still slamming forward from the force of impact.

(Y/N) grimaces. Between Grievous’s clawed foot, the wall she was slammed into by said foot, and the strap she’s now been thrown into twice, her ribs have had a fucking day.

The ship tears down the landing strip and they can only sit and wait. Slowly but surely, the ship begins to slow. It eventually comes to a stop, just barely managing to remain on the strip. She’s slammed into the strap once more for good measure and everything finally stills.

R2 chirps. 
(Y/N) looks over at Anakin and smiles at him, Well done. 
Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair and slumps back against his seat, “Another happy landing.”
 
***
 
(Y/N) can barely bring herself to look at Shaak’s body.

She can’t actually see her as she’s covered by a simple sheet for the sake of modesty and in line with typical tradition. It hides that horrible wound in the center of Shaak’s chest that no one wants to see. It covers her unseeing eyes. But (Y/N) can still make out the shape of her montrals and head tails, the curve of her shoulder where she had once rested her head, the faint outline of her gentle hands.

It hurts. Her heart aches.

She forces herself to look, telling herself that she will spend the rest of her life regretting it if she doesn’t. She needs to be present for this final farewell.

The other Jedi stand around her, paying respects for their fallen member. Something unpleasant twists in her stomach.

Anakin is on her left, resting a considerable amount of his weight on her to be sure she knows that he’s there. Obi-Wan stands on her right, fingers subtly curled around the sleeve of her robe. The gesture almost makes her smile. Had she not done something similar to his sleeve after he returned from Naboo without Qui-Gon?
(Y/N)’s face is stone, though she does appreciate their show of support and solidarity and will be sure to thank them later. She can’t show even an ounce of emotion right now. The Council is there. Watching. Someone is always watching. There’s bitterness on her tongue. 
The sheet covers the wound in Shaak’s chest, but that doesn’t stop (Y/N) from seeing it every time she blinks. It doesn’t stop her from seeing Shaak’s dead eyes, from seeing the softness around them and the warmth in that gaze both snuffed out by a stolen blade. It doesn’t stop her from hearing Shaak’s cry of pain.

This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Shaak wasn’t supposed to die. None of them were. They shouldn’t have ever been in this position in the first place.

(Y/N) turns her head just slightly and hisses under her breath, low enough that not even Obi-Wan can hear, “It’s not right,” because she has to release something to avoid bursting into flames.

Anakin makes a quiet noise in his throat.

Against her heart, hidden by her clothing, is Shaak’s headpiece that has been fashioned into a necklace. Courtesy of the men that stand on either side of her. Obi-Wan had acquired, Anakin had repurposed. It burns against her skin as Shaak’s body is lowered into the floor.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Can I tell you a secret?”(Y/N) looks at Obi-Wan in amusement as he sits down beside her, “How old are we?”He shrugs, beard doing a terrible job at hiding his smile. (Y/N) will never understand how he manages to use those short hairs to hide those smiles certain times and other times not. “Yes, you can tell me a-hold on. How do you have a secret? I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me,” (Y/N) crosses her arms. She’s being a bit of a hypocrite here. Because she actually has a few secrets of her own. One: she often considered Shaak to be her mother. That level of attachment isn’t allowed in the Order. She knows Obi-Wan wouldn’t say anything, but she also knows he wouldn’t understand. And it’s such a strange thing to admit to, she has no idea how to even broach the topic or how she would be able to proceed with a casual conversation after dropping that bomb. (Y/N) had always been sure to control her feelings and never allow her attachment to Shaak to cause harm to others, and so feels no guilt whatsoever about the matter. Even if she is unwilling to discuss it. Two: Anakin’s whole...situation. Obi-Wan likely knows he and Padmé are involved, sure. But (Y/N) doesn’t think he knows they’re married or that Padmé is pregnant. But it’s none of her business. And Anakin has always been careful with his emotions. Three: she doubts. She doubts and she questions. (Y/N) isn’t sure about certain things. She isn’t sure about everything that the Republic is doing, or the Order for that matter. That’s definitely not something she can confess to. Obi-Wan is her friend, but he is a rule follower and wouldn’t like to hear something like that from her. (Y/N) still recalls his comments after the revelation of Barriss Offee’s betrayal and the accusations she had levied against the Jedi. Obi-Wan laughs lightly, completely unaware of her inner turmoil, “This is something new.”“All these years,” she shakes her head, pretending to have not heard him, “After all of these years, you’ve been keeping secrets.”“Fine. I won’t tell you.”“Wait,” (Y/N)’s arms drop to her side and she says seriously, “No. I want to know.”Obi-Wan shakes his head, smirking. “Don’t be a tease.”He glances away for a moment and then offers quietly, “You’re going to be made a Master when we return to Coruscant.”Her eyebrows shoot up, “Really?”“Surely you aren’t that surprised?” Obi-Wan asks in disbelief. “Well...no. It’s certainly not coming out of nowhere.” (Y/N) has basically been a pseudo-Master for the past two years. The first time she had been invited to attend a Council meeting, (Y/N) had felt incredibly honored. Council meetings are reserved for the Masters of the Jedi Order, the most elite of the Jedi. For her, a simple Knight, to be invited? An honor. It had been her and a few other Knights in that first meeting. And that first meeting had become a second, then a third, then a fourth, and eventually she stopped keeping track. It had continued to be an honor for her, to be able to sit in on some of the most important meetings in the galaxy. To offer her opinions and have the actual Masters listen to her and actually consider what she had to say and be able to speak to these people who she has looked up to her entire life and have them speak to her in return like they are equals. And then everything had changed when Master Piell had died. And (Y/N) had watched as Eeth had taken his seat. It was then that (Y/N) had come to understand her true purpose. She and the other Knights who routinely sat in on meetings were a contingency plan. With Jedi spread across the galaxy and engaged in an all out war, there is an increased risk that they would die. By having Jedi Knights like (Y/N) sit in on meetings, it would make the transition smoother. When a Master died, there would already be a select few ready to fill their role who would already be up-to-date on Council discussions and could perform their duties without an adjustment period. So, no, it isn’t that surprising that (Y/N) is slated to be anointed Master. She had been anticipating this since the day Eeth was promoted. She had just never expected this fate to carry the cruel twist of it being her own Master’s chair that she would be claiming. “I just didn’t expect to be the one chosen,” she offers in explanation. Which is not a lie, as there are other candidates that are older and more experienced than her. “You certainly deserve it,” Obi-Wan says kindly, “You could have been chosen each time before this one.”“Thank you,” (Y/N) glances away, feeling her cheeks warm. “Are you alright?”“Why do you ask?”“You seemed distracted,” he offers. “No,” she lies, “I-”“Don’t lie to me, (Y/N). You’ve got about five different tells when you try.”(Y/N) glances at him briefly, somewhat amused by just how well he can read her. She sighs, “I’m just...confused.”“About what?”She can’t. (Y/N) has already used her one free pass. The issue with Edi. Not facing any repercussions for her actions had been a one-time deal. She had seen it plainly in the faces of the Council members that they had not been pleased about her making waves, even if they had readily acknowledged that she had done nothing wrong. She had deviated from the status quo. She can’t make that same mistake a second time. She can’t tell Obi-Wan just how much this war concerns her. How wrong it feels. Because it does feel wrong. The Jedi aren’t supposed to be fighting a war like this. Now three years into the fighting she still doesn’t understand it. Even with Shaak’s explanation given just days after Geonosis that they were declaring war in the name of peace (Y/N) is still dissatisfied. It doesn’t make sense. This war doesn’t make sense. Her involvement doesn’t make sense. (Y/N) didn’t choose to leave her home and go with Shaak for revenge. Or for violence. She went with Shaak because Shaak had said that (Y/N) would be safe with the Jedi. Which she had been, for most of her life. She had been given a home, meals, education, training to understand the power that’s been woven into her bones and runs through her body with each beat of her heart, the ability to protect herself so she’d never again be that scared little girl who had been helpless to stop her world from crumbling down around her. But now, the Jedi have sent her to war. They’ve put her at the frontlines of countless battles and not once has (Y/N) felt like she had a choice in the matter. Because a choice between fighting and walking away from the only thing she’s ever known is no choice at all. She was enlisted without consent, given responsibility over the lives of countless others without being asked, sent to fight in battles that she isn’t sure she knows the reason for without a voice. Because just what exactly is the reason?War for peace? An oxymoron that is so aggravatingly nonsensical it makes (Y/N) want to rip her hair out if she gives it even an ounce of thought. To protect innocents? Yes, she does do that. But when she’s the one who brings the fight to a planet and is an active participant in the war that puts these innocents in danger in the first place, how much can she actually claim that she’s protecting them?So what is the reason? Because those are the two lines she’s been fed these past three years, and neither are satisfactory. Because it’s what the Order says to do? Since when is the Jedi Order a dictatorship? Isn’t that what they’re supposed to be fighting against? And yet that seems to be what’s expected of the Jedi these days: following the Council’s commands without question. And, yes, they are her superiors and there’s an expectation of respect and agreeability on her part because of that. She certainly offered both of these things to Shaak as a Padawan. The concept of respecting one’s elders is a common occurrence in society. Though she has little memory of them, she certainly respected her mother and father while they were alive. Adhering to the Order’s word is not objectionable at face value. The problem lies in the fact that the Jedi Order isn’t supposed to be a military operation. She isn’t supposed to follow their commands on a battlefield or have a voice in her head constantly asking what the consequences would be if she refused an order. It feels like free thinking is quickly becoming a thing of the past. And it’s so strange to see how much the Order has changed in just three years. How traditions are being altered and how the rules are suddenly malleable. The Jedi are moving away from the traditional tent-poles of the Order in favor of fighting and trying to win this war. How many times had (Y/N) been taught how the basics of Jedi philosophy are what keep them separated from the Sith? So many of her fellow Jedi like to ignore how similar the two groups are and claim that they couldn’t be further apart. But that’s just not the truth. There are truly only a few differing principles that keep the two divided. And (Y/N) can't help but wonder if the lines between them are blurring as much as she thinks. These days, she seems to sacrifice principle and her own moral code every time she triggers her lightsaber. Each battle wears on her, chips away another piece of her like waves beating on a stone. When does she reach the point that she’s indistinguishable from the Sith? Has she, have they, already crossed that line? Again, what is the reason for this war? What is the reason for her involvement?“The Republic.”And (Y/N) says this because her doubts are not just concerning the Order. Because the Republic has changed too. The rules and the principles that the Republic were built upon seem to be falling to the wayside. And they also appear to apply very differently depending on who is enforcing and who is being enforced upon. Further, (Y/N) doesn’t understand how so much grey area can possibly exist in a galaxy that becomes more black and white with each passing day. Because the two sides are so polarizing, shoving away from each other like magnets. Sides that had once slowly and, at times, reluctantly been pulled apart by minor disagreements now seem to be sprinting in opposite directions without looking back or thinking of reconciliation. (Y/N) doesn’t know how peace can be achieved at this point. It feels as though the fighting will only be stopped with the total destruction of one side. Which isn’t peace. Does the Jedi Order’s involvement in the war exist solely because that’s what the Republic commands? Are the Jedi not meant to be separate? They are protectors of the Republic, yes, but (Y/N) had always been taught that their connection stopped there. The Order is not supposed to be bossed around by the Senate. Their missions and involvement in conflict and weighing of different principles and morals are not meant to be determined by the Senate. The Order’s neutrality is supposed to be paramount to its survival and effectiveness. The Jedi are not supposed to become entrenched in politics or given marching orders by elected officials that have never fought on the battlefield and have little to no understanding of what the Force is. A Jedi’s ability to use the Force is meant to be a blessing, a gift. And one to be used with respect towards all living things, used sparingly, and used with control. But (Y/N) feels like she’s losing control. Her actions aren’t her own anymore. She’s being ordered around by people who don’t understand the power she possesses and expected to comply with a salute and shut mouth. (Y/N) often feels like a shiny toy in the hands of a young child, or an extremely powerful weapon being wielded by someone too shortsighted to see the dangers or possible consequences of their meddling. Because that’s all (Y/N) is to the Republic: a weapon. She can move things with her mind and possesses a sword whose blade can cut through the metal bodies of droids like a hot knife through butter. There is no understanding or respect for the true depth of what (Y/N) is. She’s nothing more than a blunt tool, a means to someone else’s desired end. (Y/N) never wanted to be a weapon. She never expected to be used as one at the will of others. She wanted to be a keeper of peace. But for a war supposedly declared in the name of peace, it seems to be the last thing on anyone’s mind. This war just keeps getting bigger and bigger and (Y/N) wonders how the galaxy will ever be able to return to normal. (Y/N) can’t say any of this. She trusts Obi-Wan with her life. But she can’t say any of this. It’s wrong. It’s treason. It’s forbidden. Which is concerning in and of itself. But (Y/N) is one person, just one General, just one Jedi Knight. No one else seems to have any problem with what’s happening. He turns in his seat to face her better, “What do you mean?”(Y/N) just barely keeps the grimace off of her face, “Does it not seem...strange?”“What in particular?” Obi-Wan’s brow furrows more and more with every word that comes out of her mouth. “The Separatists,” she says. Perhaps if she goes at this angle, starting off with their enemy, Obi-Wan will be more open-minded to what she has to say. She continues, “How long have we been describing them as a two-headed krayt dragon? With the two heads being Grievous and Dooku.”“Yes,” he nods slowly. “Dooku is dead. And the Separatists don’t seem to care. Yes, Grievous still lives,” she shakes her head, “but that doesn’t mean Dooku’s death shouldn’t have affected them. But it’s been a few days and we haven’t heard anything. Their efforts haven’t slowed, the machine keeps running. There should have been some sort of reaction. But they aren’t slowing down.”Obi-Wan strokes his beard in thought, “Perhaps they are better at concealing their worry than you think. Or perhaps Dooku’s death has lit a fire, instead of dousing one.”“Yes,” (Y/N) concedes, fingers flexing from her nerves, “but it isn’t just the Separatists. It’s the Republic as well. The moment Chancellor Palpatine’s feet were reunited with Coruscant’s surface an order was sent to Kamino for more troops. It’s like Dooku’s death meant nothing to us either. The Republic isn’t showing any signs of slowing down, the Senate is even voting to increase military funding tomorrow. Again. Why are we going to increase the budget for a war that’s supposed to end soon? And it will be ending soon, regardless of how the Separatists are taking Dooku’s death. He’s dead, one of the heads is gone, and Grievous will soon meet a similar fate. Hopefully today if this lead pays off. And once Grievous is dead, the Separatists will fall apart. That’s what we’ve been told and that’s what we’ve been saying for the past three years. So why are we increasing spending and the size of our army?” (Y/N) looks away abruptly, realizing she’s been ranting a bit more than she had planned to. She finished lamely, “It just seems strange.”“What are you implying?” Obi-Wan asks. His tone is strange. It’s not his usual friendly tone but it’s also not cold or overtly distrusting. She shakes her head, “I don’t know.”“You wouldn’t have said all of this if you didn’t have a goal in mind. What are you trying to convince me of?”“I’m not trying to convince you of anything!” (Y/N) protests, eyes widening, “I don’t know what’s happening! If I had all of the answers, I’d be presenting this in front of the Council. I’m just coming to you, as a friend, and telling you that something seems out of place.”There’s a long silence. Her eyes flicker to the cockpit where Anakin is. Would she have been better off approaching him about her concerns? He’s never been a rule follower, even more so these days. She would probably have found him to be of a similar mind, or at least more receptive to her concerns. Only, she chews the inside of her lip, Anakin is often too much of a rogue. (Y/N) firmly believes that he has never truly gotten past the fact that the Council had initially refused to accept him into the Order. Obi-Wan had been the one to force their acceptance as he had sworn to carry out Qui-Gon’s dying wish with or without their approval, thus leaving the Council with little choice in the matter. Anakin’s resentment had been more detectable when he was still a child, something she had repeatedly spoken to him about as any time Obi-Wan had tried the conversation would quickly deteriorate into an argument. As he had grown, Anakin had learned to hide his feelings. Many had likely assumed that he had dismissed the ordeal from his mind entirely. But (Y/N) knows him better than that. And now more recently, as heads have butted and egos clashed during the heat of wartime discussion, she has seen his resentment rear its ugly head. (Y/N) reminds herself that this is the very reason she had never spoken to Anakin about her doubts beyond the occasional off-handed remark. She worries bringing up something like this would be playing with fire and that Anakin would be quick to heap on his own personal misgivings and cloud the discussion. (Y/N) doesn’t like her ongoing train of thought during this stilted conversation with Obi-Wan, it makes her stomach churn to consider the consequences of her musings and what could be lurking under the surface if they hold truth. She would be uncomfortable bashing the Order and scorning the Republic like Anakin probably would if he felt there was a safe space between them to do so. She looks back to Obi-Wan and his furrowed brow. Perhaps giving into his questioning and voicing her worries had been a mistake. Perhaps she would be better off retracting some of her frustrations and brushing the whole thing off. It’s not her place to be questioning things like this. She should have more faith in the Council. Her concerns are likely unfounded and there’s probably larger plans at play that she is simply not privy to. Better minds have probably already looked into this and determined there is no cause for worry.  If only her stomach would stop doing backflips at the thought of dismissing and downplaying her own words. Obi-Wan finally breaks the heavy silence by saying, “It is strange.”“What?” (Y/N)’s eyebrows rise in surprise. She had been expecting a lecture, not agreement. “You’re right, it is strange. I have also...had my concerns about the war,” Obi-Wan confesses. “You have?” (Y/N) can’t believe this. She had lost her conviction the moment Obi-Wan had appeared to not be convinced. And now he’s flipped everything on its head again and not only said that she’s valid in her concerns but has gone so far to admit that he’s independently had similar thoughts. Could it be possible that others feel the same? That it’s not a lack of worry, but an excess of it that keeps everyone silent? Again, it feels like independent thought is going out of fashion. The status quo is to follow the chain of command. Any deviation from that is scrutinized. Could it be that this strongly encouraged self-policing policy is keeping everyone quiet? Is it possible the other Jedi are conflicted and are just too afraid to voice their dissent and discontent?Anakin, who (Y/N) trusts with her life, could he also feel doubt on these matters? He’s always been such a freethinker, and she suddenly feels so guilty for condemning him for that just moments ago. He has disagreed with the Order and the decisions of the Council in the past. How many conversations had they had when they were younger where the two of them agreed? How many times during the war have they found themselves on the same side of a debate? (Y/N)’s been entrusted with the knowledge of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship. She can still remember the elation and excitement plain to see on Anakin’s face when he had told her yesterday about the pregnancy. Surely she can trust him with her questions about the current trajectory they might be on. When her mask had cracked during Shaak’s funeral and she had given him the first true taste of her frustrations and confusion, he hadn’t thrown it back into her face or tattled on her to one of the many Masters in the room. He had accepted her words and kept her trust. Surely she can trust him and take the conversation further. Hope, a feeling that is such a rare find for her these days, swells in her chest. If (Y/N) is the one to cast the first stone and start these conversations that everyone else is too afraid to broach, could it snowball into something more? Could their combined efforts generate the answers that escape (Y/N)’s grasp on her own?“Yes,” Obi-Wan answers, nothing but openness and sincerity in his eyes, “There have been decisions made that I question. And it is strange that Dooku’s passing has not made larger waves. This war has been going on for far too long, but I don’t know if there’s something more happening. I’m afraid I don’t have any more answers than you do. And I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t given this nearly as much thought as you.”“It isn’t your fault, Obi-Wan,” she reaches over to squeeze his hand, “So much has happened recently, I don’t blame you for being focused on other things. And I doubt I’ve given this as much thought as you believe I have. I fear I have nothing more to offer you than half-developed thoughts held together by fraying strings.”“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N). I believe there is something more to your contemplations. I’m glad you’ve spoken up.”She laughs weakly, “I’m just glad you aren’t slapping cuffs on me right now.”“Never,” Obi-Wan says with conviction and it's his turn to squeeze her hand, “When we return to Coruscant, we should speak on this further.”(Y/N) swallows the flair of fear that rises up within her. She won’t be on her own if this goes further. She won’t be on such thin ice. She’ll have a Master of the Council on her side. Obi-Wan hasn’t used his freebie yet, to her knowledge, and he’s probably got an additional one by being on the Council. If the Council were to conclude their worries to be unfounded, she would not face her ruin. She hadn’t been selling herself short before. Her thoughts are a barely coherent mess with hardly a leg to stand on seeing as they’re largely rooted in hypotheticals and pessimistic musings and with very little hard evidence to lend credibility to them. But she does feel that they’ve gained some legitimacy by being reciprocated by Obi-Wan. “I think that’s a good idea,” (Y/N) says with a smile.  *** (Y/N) isn’t exactly sure how Anakin and herself managed to get captured, or how Obi-Wan managed to not to, but here they are. Standing in some random room with shoddy lighting, lightsabers taken and a dozen or so blasters aimed at each of them. The biggest takeaway so far is that Grievous is nowhere to be found. In all likelihood, he was never even here. And that means this mission is a total bust and complete waste of time. Fantastic. And they can’t even just cut their losses and fly back to Coruscant, as they’ve gone and gotten themselves captured and now have to handle this sideshow production. A man, the leader of this group of thugs by the looks of him, strolls into the room. He greets them pleasantly, “Welcome, welcome. Name’s Sirbuh.”(Y/N) and Anakin are silent. Didn’t ask, don’t care.   “You, my good man, certainly need no introduction,” he continues, unbothered by their lack of response, “Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi’s golden boy.”He then looks at (Y/N), “But...I don’t think I know you. Are you even a Jedi?” She almost scoffs. They had taken a lightsaber away from her, hadn’t they? Do they think the Jedi just give those away? His head tilts to the side as he appraises her, “You don’t seem very impressive.”“My name is (Y/N) (L/N), Jedi Knight and General in the Grand Army of the Republic,” she replies sharply, “And if you’re so skeptical, why don’t you have your goons release me so I can show you just how much of a Jedi I am?”Sirbuh laughs, “Feisty. I like that in a woman.”“What’s your plan here, Sirbuh?” Anakin snaps, cutting to the chase, “Ransoming us to the Republic?”“Give the pretty boy a prize!” Sirbuh’s smile is all teeth. (Y/N) wonders where Obi-Wan is, hoping nothing had happened to him. And that he’ll get here soon. “But before I do that, there’s some information I want from you.”“We’ll be so happy to oblige,” (Y/N) says mockingly. “There have been whispers,” Sirbuh informs them, eyes flickering to Anakin and tracing over him from head to toe, “of a special Jedi, a ‘Chosen One’ of sorts.”Anakin subtly shifts his weight. (Y/N)’s eyes narrow slightly, giving Sirbuh more of her attention now. That’s not common knowledge. He either has dangerous connections or knows someone who does if he is not only aware of such a title but also that Anakin is linked to it. “So, Golden Boy,” Sirbuh says with a greedy look in his eyes, “is it true? Are you the Chosen One?”“No,” (Y/N) immediately speaks, “I am.”Both Sirbuh’s and Anakin’s heads swivel to look at her. She pushes back her shoulders, hands flexing where they are bound at the small of her back, “I’m the Chosen One. The rumors are true.”“You?” Sirbuh asks, disgust apparent in his voice, “I didn’t even know your name until a minute ago.”“And why do you think that is?” (Y/N) sneers, “Do you think the Order would be stupid enough to let the Chosen One become a poster boy of the Republic? No. It’s all a diversion, smoke and mirrors. You’re all so busy looking at Anakin, you never think to give me a second glance.”
What the hell are you doing?

Distracting him. If we stall long enough, Obi-Wan will get here.

Why not just let me say it?
She glances at him, Because I’m not going to just sit here and watch him do anything to you, idiot. If Obi-Wan’s held up, this clown will get his entertainment out of me. 
(Y/N)-

Shut up. 
She looks back to Sirbuh and weaves the Force into her words, “I’m the Chosen One. I’m the one you want.”(Y/N) can practically see her will fly through the air and strike Sirbuh across the face. He blinks rapidly and then nods, sounding almost dazed, “You’re the Chosen One.”“Sir, are you sure?” Sirbuh looks over at one of his cronies, “Yes. Contact Coruscant immediately. Tell them I have the Chosen One and Anakin Skywalker.”(Y/N) absently watches the guy scramble away to follow his orders. “Your friends better have deep pockets,” Sirbuh tells them, redrawing her attention, “I’ll be expecting a lot for the two of you. Gren, cuff her. I won’t have her moving and messing up the procedure.”(Y/N) heart stutters at his words. “Procedure? What procedure? I thought you were ransoming us.”“I am,” Sirbuh replies smugly, “but I know how sneaky you Jedi are. I’m not taking any chances.”Anakin struggles against the cuffs keeping his hands at his back and the strong arms holding him in place. He demands, “What are you doing to her?”“Freezing her in carbonite. I won’t have her breaking the two of you out. Behave yourself and I won’t freeze you too.”Anakin immediately starts to struggle harder, “No! Don’t you dare! I’m the Chosen One! It’s me!”“Shut up, Anakin!”“Leave her alone! (Y/N)!”(Y/N) watches a guy, who must be Gren, walks towards her. He carries with him a more intricate set of cuffs. Strings of chains, at least five metal cuffs. For her limbs and neck, most likely. She starts to struggle against the hands holding her. Where the hell is Obi-Wan?! Her leg kicks out at Gren, trying to beat him back, “Get away from me!”Even as (Y/N) struggles, she’s now even more grateful that she’s masquerading as the Chosen One at this moment. Because Anakin had told her how much he hated being carbon-frozen for the mission to go get Master Piell. He had told her how much he hated feeling trapped in the moments before being frozen, not to mention the mental turmoil of knowing he had to put his life entirely into the hands of others while encased, and how he still has nightmares about it. (Y/N) thinks it might harken back to the first nine years of his life being spent in enslavement. Anakin has always hated feeling trapped in any sense and (Y/N)’s noticed how he fidgets a lot and often can’t sit still, like he’s got to move his body just to remind himself that it’s no longer a piece of property or under the control of others. So (Y/N)’s very glad that she is sparing Anakin from being trapped in carbonite again. Rough hands suddenly leave her and (Y/N) doesn’t have even a second to register that before she’s crying out in pain as she’s unexpectedly electrocuted. She can’t stop how her legs immediately fold beneath her. Her knees hit the floor and something strikes the back of her head a moment later, dazing her momentarily. The hands return, strong-arming her into the desired position. (Y/N) shakes her head, trying to shake the dizziness and is cracked over the head once more for her troubles. She spits curses and Anakin’s screaming something that she can’t hear as Gren takes advantage of her weakened state and starts putting the cuffs on her. Someone grabs her braids and rips her head back. Gren then yanks her wrists forward so harshly it hurts, laying them across her chest and attaching them to the cuff now around her neck. The side of her face strikes the hard floor and she’s held there for a moment by a hand on the back of her neck that digs the metal cuff into her skin. She’s then yanked back to her feet. There isn’t an inch of slack to be found in the chains. She’s completely immobile. (Y/N) bares her teeth at the man grinning wildly at her and promises, “You’ll pay for this, Sirbuh.”“No,” he counters, “I’ll be paid for this.”Sirbuh tosses Gren her lightsaber, which he easily catches and attaches to the chain hanging from her collar. It dangles between the gap of her forearms. Her fingers curl into tight fists as she glares at him. “Is it ready?” Sirbuh asks. “Yes, sir,” someone immediately replies. “Good,” he snaps his fingers pointedly, “Move her into position.” The two people behind (Y/N) grab her around the chest and legs and carry her away from Anakin. “No! I’m the Chosen One!” Anakin struggles against the three people that have pinned him to the floor. The muzzle of a blaster is digging into his temple so hard that it will leave a bruise and yet he still tries to fight, “(Y/N)! No!”(Y/N) watches his fruitless efforts in resignation. Clearly Obi-Wan isn’t going to get here in time. She isn’t sure how long she’ll be trapped in the carbonite, or if she’ll even survive the process because frankly this facility looks like it’s older than Master Yoda. Whatever her fate, (Y/N)’s glad she’s sparing Anakin from it. She takes comfort in that as she heads into the unknown. Five minutes, five hours, five days. It was done in the service of a friend. The two men set her down on the floor again. (Y/N) settles her nerves, trying to find the center of herself and enter a meditative state before she’s frozen in hopes that it will soften the blow dealt by the procedure. Anakin watches her helplessly, head and neck twisting awkwardly against the floor so he can see her. She looks right back at him and tells him calmly, I’ll be alright, Anakin. Please don’t get hurt over me. And don’t tempt him into freezing you as well. Save your strength. Escape with Obi-Wan and then the two of you can find me. The platform slowly starts to lower and (Y/N) takes a breath. One of her last. “All systems go?”“Just a moment, sir,” the same voice from before replies, likely from where the control panel is located. A door suddenly opens and (Y/N) looks away from Anakin to see Obi-Wan peering down at all of them. He asks, amused, “Am I late for the party?”“Obi-Wan!” Anakin renews his struggles, “Get (Y/N)!” Obi-Wan looks over to where (Y/N) stands in chains, continuing to sink down. His expression is caught between horror and confusion. He knows something is happening to her, but can’t make sense of what it is specifically. “Now!” Sirbuh yells, grabbing his blaster. (Y/N) looks over to watch the person at the control panel push a button amongst the flashing red lights. She feels the world suddenly slow down around her. Minutes pass between each beat of her heart. She feels like she’s moving in slow motion as she looks down at her feet and sees the white gas shooting up through the holes in the floor. She inhales, hearing the action loudly in her own ears, the air dragging down her throat before filling her lungs. Her head rises as more gas is shot from the sides. The last thing (Y/N) hears before everything goes dark, is Anakin and Obi-Wan both yelling her name.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Anakin straightens in his seat, immediately recognizing the white and green armor as the individual enters the room. He blinks at the trooper and greets, caught between the kindness of familiarity and surprise at his presence, “Commander Taps.”

“General Skywalker,” Taps nods in return.

“Commander,” Mace says in a commanding way that twists Anakin’s stomach, “you requested to speak before the Council.”

Taps immediately looks back to where Mace, and Yoda’s hologram, sit, “Yes, sir. I wanted to speak to the Council about General (L/N).”

Anakin shifts in his seat again, fighting how his shoulders want to slump forward from the grief that he still carries. (Y/N)’s body had still not been recovered. His friend is out there, probably in the hands of thugs, and Anakin’s not doing anything to try and find her right now. Not to mention that it’s his fault she was frozen in the first place. If he had just been smarter, faster, stronger, something...he could have saved her. All Anakin seems to do these days is lose people. And with each loss, he loses another person he trusts. Which is why his dreams about Padmé get more and more terrifying with each one that comes. Anakin can’t bear to lose another person he loves.

He looks over at Obi-Wan, having felt his former Master’s gaze on him. Obi-Wan seems unsettled, Anakin can see the bags under his eyes from the hours of sleep he’s lost over (Y/N)’s...what does he even call her situation? Disappearance? Capture? Imprisonment? But Obi-Wan also looks upset with him. Anakin immediately tries to tame his emotions, thinking that perhaps the other Jedi can sense his growing distress.

“What about (Y/N)?”
“She still hasn’t been recovered, sir,” Taps says, “and some of the men have heard rumors that we’re going to be reassigned to another Jedi General’s troops.”
“A problem with this, you have?” Yoda asks, voice warbling slightly due to the hologram’s connection.

“Yes, sir. That’s why I came before you today. I wanted to ask permission for the 378th to continue the search.”

“We have all felt the loss of General (L/N),” Ki-Adi speaks up, “but the war effort must continue. You and your men would be more useful on the battlefield.”

“Yes, sir, I understand that. But us clones, we don’t give up on each other until we know for certain that there’s no hope. I know many people in the Republic don’t put much value on the lives of myself and my men,” and there’s a subtle bitterness to the words that Anakin feels resonate deep in his soul because he knows what it means to be expendable, “but General (L/N) never treated us that way. She never gave up on us, even when things looked bleak. And, all due respect to everyone in this room, I have no intention of giving up on her. And neither does the rest of the 378th. General (L/N) is still out there somewhere, and we’d like to get her home safely.”

Anakin’s fingers curl and uncurl. He misses (Y/N). Taps’s impassioned words and the conviction he has towards finding her just makes her absence feel all the more prominent. If she was here and it was another Jedi that was missing, she wouldn’t be favoring sending troops into battle over continuing the search effort. She understood the concept of compassion, unlike some people. 
He’s angry. And he knows he shouldn’t be. And he’s also hyper aware of the fact that he’s currently sitting in the middle of the High Council Chamber which means the eyes that always seem to watch him are watching him even more closely right now. But he’s angry. 
(Y/N) should be here. She should be sitting in the seat that Anakin currently sits in, because he knows she would have been anointed upon their return from Sirbuh’s facility. He knows this seat had been intended for her. She should be here with him and Obi-Wan. The three of them should be on the Council right now, working together to end this war. They’ve all earned it. He’s still so furious with Mace for not making him a Master. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand, he was anointed without having to play games. (Y/N) would understand his frustration as she had been in a similar situation for the last two years. Caught in this ridiculous limbo of being included and yet denied something that she had rightfully earned. Anakin should be sitting in another chair, also a Master, sending her looks from across the room whenever someone says something particularly ridiculous. They had made so many plans. (Y/N) had assured him time and again that he’d soon be on the Council, or at least invited to the meetings like she is. Anakin wishes she had been here to see his appointment, as well as the withheld anointment. She would know what to say, (Y/N)’s always known exactly what to say. 
(Y/N)’s been a great friend to Anakin since the moment he came to Coruscant. She had never watched him out of the corner of her eye like others had, she had always accepted him as he was, she had kept his trust without ever wavering. She had often been the bridge between him and Obi-Wan, easily finding common ground for them and smoothing over the arguments that developed from their differing personalities, and now he can’t help but acutely feel that distance again. 
Now that she’s gone, it feels like Anakin is missing a limb again. There’s a part of him that should be there, and it isn’t. She isn’t. (Y/N)’s gone and everyone else just seems ready to move on from that. Which is appropriate for the utilitarian mindset that’s been adopted by the Order, but it's not such an easy task for Anakin. He can’t abandon his humanity or feelings. He can’t move on from (Y/N) not being in this meeting right now or (Y/N) not being here this morning to have breakfast and be scolded by Obi-Wan for their caf addiction with or (Y/N) not being here yesterday for their usual sparring session or (Y/N) not being on the ship that had brought himself and Obi-Wan back to Coruscant.

How can they all act like (Y/N) being gone means nothing? How many of the Jedi, several in this room included, owe (Y/N) their lives? Master Tiin on Geonosis. Masters Windu, Allie, and Fisto during the war. Obi-Wan and Anakin himself could credit (Y/N) for their continued lives several times over. Everyone here has known (Y/N) for most of her life, many even consider her a friend. They had respected her enough to invite her to Council meetings for over two years now and had been just hours away from anointing her as a Master of the Jedi Council when she had been imprisoned in the carbonite intended for him. And yet they all seem ready to write her off as a lost cause. How could the clones, who had only known her for a few years and only ever interacted with her in her role as their commanding officer, care more?

The Jedi are supposed to be compassionate, and yet they’re so cold to one of their own.

What if it was Anakin?

Would they care?

No.
No, they wouldn’t. 
Anakin’s given his life to the Jedi and they wouldn’t blink twice at his death. The only person who would care is Padmé, and her place in his life had been crafted by his own hands completely independent from, and frankly against, the Jedi Order.

(Y/N) would care...but she’s gone. Not for good. Anakin refuses to accept or even consider the possibility that (Y/N) won’t be found. But right here, right now, she isn’t there to miss or mourn him.

And Ahsoka would care...right? She’d been so distant towards him before he had returned to Coruscant to rescue Palpatine. Anakin didn’t entirely blame Ahsoka for her behavior, considering everything. But he had never doubted her. He had thought that would be mutual, that she could see the difference between him and the rest of the Order. And surely their adventures before and trust built between them would outweigh any ill will that might be directed towards Anakin for being guilty by association. Right?

Anakin looks over at Obi-Wan. His former Master can be such an enigma. He’s never had an issue concealing emotions or adhering to the expected image of a Jedi. But Anakin knows him better than that and knows that feelings hide behind the mask. He’s seen Obi-Wan with Satine, seen the lingering looks that alluded to lingering feelings, seen the shame and guilt when Bo-Katan had called him out for acting as if that the problems of Mandalore and what they had brought down on Satine’s head didn’t mean anything to him. And Anakin can see him now, struggling with (Y/N)’s predicament, as well as seen his affection for her over the years. Anakin has a great deal of respect and love for Obi-Wan, he has to believe Obi-Wan feels the same way. Anakin can read Obi-Wan better than most and can see how (Y/N)’s absence here is affecting him. Anakin has to believe Obi-Wan would miss him too. Unfortunately, it’s not a guaranteed thing and there’s no way for Anakin to ask. Especially since any affection Obi-Wan does have for Anakin never stops him from being disappointed with his former apprentice. Obi-Wan has perfected the ‘disappointed Master’ look and has no qualms about making it even though Anakin hasn’t worn a braid for three years now. But to be fair to Obi-Wan, Anakin still hates to disappoint him as much as he did when he was a child. Unfortunately, he seems to do so more and more often these days. Most recent being his behavior towards Mace when the man had denied him the rank of Master. 
And Anakin also fears deep in his heart that Obi-Wan blames him for what happened to (Y/N). Which is crazy. He knows that. Obi-Wan is a far better man than that and Anakin is just projecting his own feelings. 
But (Y/N) is Obi-Wan’s best friend, and Anakin has never seen him be disappointed with her.

“We are close to ending this war,” Master Kcaj says, “All of our efforts should be focused on that and finding General Grievous.”

Anakin leans forward, eager to offer what he has recently learned, “The Chancellor believes Grievous is on the planet of Utapau.”

“Palpatine thinks General Grievous is on Utapau?” Ki-Adi repeats in surprise.

“A partial message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet from the chairman of Utapau,” Anakin provides. 
“Act on this we must,” Yoda’s tiny hologram states, “The capture of General Grievous will end this war. Quickly and decisively we should proceed.”
Anakin pushes down his nerves over continuing to speak up and his desire to preen over Palpatine’s praise and confidence in him, and says, “The Chancellor has requested...that I lead the campaign.”

“The Council will make up its own mind who is to go,” Mace says sharply, “not the Chancellor.”

“A Master is needed,” Yoda agrees, “with more experience.”

“I concur. Master Kenobi should go.”

“I agree.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

Anakin looks at Taps, who is still standing in the middle of the room with a tight grip on his helmet, seemingly forgotten. He observes, “If Master Kenobi is to travel to Utapau to end this war, surely the 378th can be granted permission to continue the search for General (L/N). Unless you intend to send the 378th and the 212th to Utapau with Obi-Wan.”
Taps sends him a grateful look that isn’t at all appropriate in this setting, but Anakin loves it and him all the more for it. 
Mace looks like he ate something sour. 
“Possess authority over this, we do not,” Yoda answers. 
“It is a matter of the Grand Army of the Republic, not the Jedi,” Master Mundi adds, “You’ll need its approval if you wish to repurpose its troops.”

“You have our support in this matter if needed,” Mace tells Taps, “but be warned that if it grants your request, the Republic will not permit it for long.”

“I understand, sir,” Taps replies, “The end of the war does not mean our forces will no longer be needed. With any luck, General (L/N) will soon be back where she belongs.”
Anakin has confidence that the Republic will approve the prolonging of the search efforts to find (Y/N), and is also not above using his connections to ensure that if needed. He leans forward in his seat, “I could assist-”
“You are needed here, on Coruscant,” Mace interrupts him.

Anakin barely keeps the snarl off of his face. Rejected twice in the same meeting within a matter of minutes. Not to mention Yoda’s ‘a Master is needed’ comment, which absolutely felt like a dig at Anakin’s lack of status. Some days it feels like the Jedi can’t open their mouths without it being to direct an insult at Anakin.

He looks away from everyone, staring at the ground not far from Taps’s feet.

“Are there any other matters that need to be discussed?”

No one speaks. And Anakin doesn’t have to even pull his eyes away from the spot on the floor that might catch fire from the heat of his gaze to know several people are currently watching him.

“Very well,” Master Yoda says with finality, “Council adjourned.”
 
***
 
“Senator Organa.”

The senator turns to look at Obi-Wan expectantly. His small smile is filled with sympathy, as are his eyes, as he asks kindly, “Master Kenobi, is there something I can do for you?”

Obi-Wan looks away briefly, subtly reaching out with the Force to see if Master Yoda is nearby, “Yes…I was hoping there was.”

“Of course.”

Obi-Wan looks back to Bail’s open expression and says, “I wanted to know if you’d be so kind as to continue the search for (Y/N)?”

“General (L/N)?” Bail asks, and Obi-Wan can see the wince he tries to push down. (Y/N) isn’t a General anymore, the army she had helped lead has been repurposed and the government it served has been corrupted and warped beyond recognition. 
“Yes,” Obi-Wan glosses over the small goof, “I had intended to take up the search after leaving Utapau. But, given the change of circumstances, I no longer have the opportunity.” 
Obi-Wan looks away again, feeling ashamed over abandoning his friend to who knows what. On its own, being a wanted man would not be enough to stop Obi-Wan from trying to find (Y/N). But he now serves a higher purpose than his own survival: protecting Luke Skywalker. That child will be relying on him and him alone to serve as his guardian. He will be the only thing standing between the boy and the Empire. Obi-Wan cannot abandon his post and go on the search.

“I understand.”

“I do not know what Sidious’s plans are when it comes to the clones,” Obi-Wan continues, “but I don’t have to tell you why the 378th’s search efforts are now no longer something I wish to see bear fruit.”

“Of course not,” Bail nods and Obi-Wan tries not to see the pity in his eyes, “I cannot make any promises for her recovery, Master Kenobi, but I can promise to carry
on the search.”

Obi-Wan nods in return, knowing he couldn’t have expected any more than that. (Y/N)’s been missing for a while now, and every second that passes just increases the length of time since she was last seen. And while the galaxy feels oh so small ever since it decided it wants Obi-Wan dead, it’s also really, really big and (Y/N) could be anywhere in it. With any sort of scum and villainy.

“Thank you,” he tells Bail, truly grateful to have the other man on his side. He adds, “I wish she was here right now.”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure what it is exactly, but he misses (Y/N) fiercely.

She has been his best friend for years and he hers, and Obi-Wan had always worn that like a badge of honor. (Y/N) had been his confidant, the person he trusted most. Obi-Wan had trusted her with his sorrow over Qui-Gon, his doubts concerning the Republic and its war, and everything that had come in-between. Her disappearance had been like a physical blow and shaken Obi-Wan to his core. In a time like one of war, it is always important to have people one can trust. And no one had fit that position better than (Y/N). And now, with everyone else also gone, Obi-Wan feels her absence even stronger than he had before. It feels like his heart has been ripped out and then his body told to keep going on without it. He’s standing here, bleeding, with a gaping hole in his chest, and expected to continue onward as if nothing is amiss.

Obi-Wan hates to even think it, but a part of him is glad (Y/N) is currently frozen in carbonite. The massacre of the Jedi...he’s glad (Y/N) was spared from it. Obi-Wan had only survived by chance and Master Yoda on his strong ability of premonition. Almost everyone else had fallen. Obi-Wan has to believe there are some survivors out there, he prays to gods he doesn’t believe in that his message is heard, but he has no definitive answer. And it physically hurts to reach out into the Force in its current state, with its system shocked and the very fabric bleeding from the deep wounds inflicted by the murders of countless Jedi, so Obi-Wan isn’t about to reach out and try to find the signatures of those lucky enough to have survived the initial purging.

Although, despite a part of him being grateful that (Y/N) managed to avoid the entire debacle in her frozen state, Obi-Wan has to think that she would have had a pretty good chance of surviving it. She had always been close to her troops and it would have been difficult for her to accept that they could betray her like this, but (Y/N) has always been so smart, so intuitive. She had been clever enough to start sniffing out the issues with the Republic before anyone else had. While everyone’s eyes had been turned to the future and the next fight, (Y/N) had been looking over her shoulder to see what was happening in the present. Obi-Wan suspects she had possessed even more concerns than the ones she had expressed on their journey to Sirbuh’s facility. There had been things in the past, looking back now, that Obi-Wan can use to date (Y/N)’s suspicions back to the beginning of the war. She had seemed unhappy with the idea of the Jedi serving as Generals from the start. And she had offered small bits of commentary over the three years, as well as her refusal to take a Padawan learner, that had shown her reservations had never been resolved.

If things had gone differently, if she and Anakin hadn’t been captured and (Y/N) had returned to Coruscant, how different would things have turned out? If (Y/N) had been able to explain herself to the Council, backed by Obi-Wan, could they have uncovered Sidious’s plot in time?

Perhaps that’s why Obi-Wan feels the loss of her so strongly. Because in a galaxy where no one seems to know what’s happening and are just waiting for Sidious to make his next move, (Y/N) would have been the exception. Obi-Wan’s faith in the Jedi and in Master Yoda and in himself has been shaken. They had all been so blind. Palpatine had been there, right under their noses, and no one had suspected a thing. Yes, Obi-Wan had the beginnings of reservations over Palpatine’s overextended term as Chancellor and other small nitpicks. But would he have acted on them or figured anything out on his own? It had only been because of (Y/N)’s bravery in expressing her own suspicions that Obi-Wan had finally really started to question things. Anakin, and it hurts so much to even think his name, had always said Obi-Wan was a rule follower to a fault. Even Qui-Gon had said something to that extent. Obi-Wan had never really seen an issue with that, though. Qui-Gon and Anakin had been cut from the same cloth, but they had been the oddballs in the mix, not Obi-Wan. But he now sees that the rules he had been following and the orders he had been marching to had assisted in the downfall of the Jedi and the Republic.

(Y/N) had always toed the line as well, but she had not let that stop her from thinking outside of the box.

They had all been so blind, while (Y/N) had seen things more clearly than any of them.

That’s why Obi-Wan wishes she was here right now. He needs her help. This, all of this...it would be so much easier if she was here. The horrible emptiness that fills the space in the Force once crowded by hundreds of Jedi, the devastation of Anakin’s fall, the horror over Sidious’s Empire now ruling the galaxy, the burden of having to try and carry on a legacy that dates back thousands of years and now rests on too few shoulders, the duty of protecting Luke, and even the task of keep himself alive. It all would be easier if (Y/N) was amongst the breathing and at his side.

Instead, she’s out there in the galaxy somewhere in the hands of who knows, completely vulnerable and subject to their will.

And if someone were to release her, (Y/N) would find herself in a completely different galaxy than the one she had been in when she was frozen. Nearly everyone she knows is now dead, the Order and Republic are extinct. Obi-Wan can hardly recognize the world he lives in now, and he had borne witness to the change as it occurred. He can only imagine how disorienting it would be for her to just be thrown into it headfirst.

And then there’s also a possibility that someone will look at her frozen silhouette, recognize the lightsaber between her arms, and take her to Coruscant for a payday. She’d be freed from the carbonite, expecting Obi-Wan or Anakin or even Taps to be the one to greet her, only for Sidious to kill her. All of that, sacrificing herself for Anakin and exposing herself to the dangers of the galaxy in such a defenseless state for him, just to be struck down by the man who condemned Anakin to a fate worse than death.

“I understand, Master Kenobi,” Bail says, “I worked with (Y/N) during the war, I know she is sorely missed right now. I will do what I can to bring her back.”

Obi-Wan nods, managing to offer a small smile, “Thank you, Senator. I’ll let you get back to wherever you were headed.”
 
***
 
The room smells of smoke from countless blasters firing. Ragged gasps of dying men fill the air like music. Nal wants to dance to the tune, blood hot with victory and revenge. Let this day serve as a warning to all who would think of crossing him.

A metallic thud, and then another a moment later. Nal’s eyes flicker open lazily and he appraises the two men that had just been forced to their knees before him. Kedo bends down to light a deathstick on a small flame, sauntering over to slip it between Nal’s expectant fingers.

“Please, sir,” one of the men begs, looking up from where he cowers on the floor, “I have no loyalty-we have no loyalty to him.”

“Let us work for you, Nal,” the other speaks up. His eyes are wide as he pleads for mercy, “Please.”

“Well, this is an interesting conundrum, isn’t it?” Nal remarks to Kedo, who smiles wickedly.

He asks, playing along, “How so, boss?”

“I just have to wonder,” Nal looks down at the first man again, “if you have no loyalty to him, how could I ever believe you’d be loyal to me?”

“No, please! No!” the man’s screams cut off when Nal shoots him in the chest. He falls to the floor, dead before his worthless body hits the metal.

“He fell funny,” Kedo chortles.

“Nal, ple-” the other man also falls.

Nal turns his head, looking at the rest of the kneeling men where they have been corralled. Several of them are already crying. He takes a long drag from the deathstick and then smiles, feeling a dark pleasure curl in his stomach as he tastes their fear in the air, “Kill the rest!”

Cries of protest are quickly overpowered by blaster fire. 
“Start loading these crates! I want to blow this junker out of the sky and be far away from here in less than ten minutes.”
“Let’s go!” Kedo barks, marching away, “You heard the boss! Move your asses!”

Nal steps over the dead body of his former friend, and more recently his adversary, an uppity little shitstain named Sirbuh who had screamed beautifully as he bled, and walks over to the nearest box. He pops the lid and smiles at the healthy pile of credits that greets him. He runs his fingers over the pieces, enjoying the way the metal tinkles together like he’s playing a musical instrument. He hums along to a song only he hears.

Nal’s men quickly start grabbing crates and heading back towards the cargo bay they had boarded Sirbuh’s ship through. They chatter amongst themselves, too caught up in discussion about the potential treasures they could be carrying for anyone to give a strangely tall and skinny crate a second thought as it too is loaded. 
 
***
 
“The true sign that the galaxy has gone crazy is that you're so successful.”

Talis laughs, “Be careful, Hondo. I don’t have to kiss your ring anymore, which means I don’t have to take lip from you either.”

“Ah,” Hondo waves her off with a wry grin, “Ignore the ramblings of a spurned old pirate. My way is the way of the past. But what you have here? It’s the future.”

“You’re too kind, Hondo,” she smiles knowingly, “And it’s all for nothing because I'm not offering anything at a discount. These prices are final.”

“Oh!” Hondo clutches at his chest, “How you wound me! I come here to tell my dear friend that I’m proud of her, and you accuse me of such horrid things?!”

“Are you actually going to buy anything?” Talis asks flatly, “There are other people here I could be trying to scam right now.”

Hondo looks around, stroking his chin absently, “You know…if this was ten years ago, I would have bought everything in here.”

“Or stolen it!”

“Again, how you wound me!”

They both laugh.

He indicates a blaster on display, “How’s this one handle? Looks nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Talis plucks the blaster from its small stand, turning it over in her hands, “New model, fresh off the presses.”
“Not from any of those Imperial presses, yes?” Hondo’s features twist with disgust, “I’ve yet to find an Imperial-made blaster that can hit the broad side of a bantha.”She shakes her head, “I steal from the Empire, but all of their stuff is over there,” her hand indicates somewhere to the left, “I take the first timers through there and pawn that crap off on them. This area? For friends and family.”
Hondo examines the crate of blasters, considering the small amount of credits that he carries in his pocket. Oh, how he wishes it was still ten years ago when he never carried anything but a weapon and the word ‘budgeting’ wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“How about this,” Talis pulls lightly at his arm, “I know how gaudy your taste used to be, I’m sure it hasn’t changed.”

Hondo lets himself be led over, “What’s this?”

She shrugs absently, “Some sculpture I found.”

He examines the strange grey rectangle, eyes tracing over the silhouette. He touches the ornate, golden frame, “I don’t have a mind for art...is this supposed to be funny?”

“I don’t understand it either,” Talis says dismissively, clearly focused on making some sort of a sale with him and not much else, “Do you want it? I’ll actually do a discount for this, I’m tired of it taking up floor space.”

Hondo looks back to the sculpture, “I don’t have the credits either way. And even if I did…she reminds me too much of an old friend.”

“You were friends with a Jedi?”

“Yes, several,” he frowns, “...At least, I think we were friends. Who really knows about the old days these days? I like it, but it would bring back more bad memories than good.”

Talis sighs, “I’ll never get rid of this thing, will I? I should probably just dump it somewhere. Let’s go look at those blasters again.”

Hondo glances at the grey face once more, wondering if the artist had taken inspiration from (Y/N) or if the likeness is just a coincidence. He follows Talis, fingers trailing across the golden frame. As he refocuses his attention on the blasters, weighing the pros and cons of trying to barter despite Talis saying that all prices were final, the strange artwork leaves his mind. 
 
***
 
The door slides open and Bail announces his presence as he walks into the room, “I have fantastic news.”

His wife looks up and asks, “What, my love?”

He sits down beside her, reaching for her hand, “I’ve heard from Perin. He’s on Tatooine.”

Breha sets down the datapad to give him her full attention.

“He has found (Y/N) (L/N).”

Her eyes widen, “What?! The Jedi?”

He nods, feeling excitement swell in his chest.

“I don’t understand,” Breha says, “I thought he was working undercover for some Rodian smuggler.”

“He is, my dear,” Bail confirms, “The smuggler brought a shipment to Jabba the Hutt and Perin found what can only be (Y/N)’s frozen body at his palace.”

“She’s still frozen?” Breha’s free hand clutches at her chest in shock.

“Yes,” he sighs and shakes his head, “I will admit that it is...troubling to think that she has spent such a long time trapped within the carbonite. But Perin is confident that it is her,” he squeezes her hand, “This is a victory, Breha. After all of this time, we have finally found her body. All that’s left now is to acquire and free her, which will be a far easier task.”

“It’s been so long,” Breha says, looking off at nothing in particular, “It so often feels like it was just yesterday...but now I truly feel the weight of all the time that has passed. I can’t imagine having been imprisoned for so long. She will not recognize the galaxy we now live in.”

“It will be jarring for her, I’m sure. But we must take comfort in the fact that (Y/N) has not actually experienced the passage of time in her state. Her prison has been a merciful one in that sense. But, yes, it is times like this that I feel the extent of how far we have fallen.”

“But imagine,” Breha fiddles with their joined hands, “having someone like (Y/N) back. Having a Jedi, especially one of that caliber, in play could turn the tide of this war.”

“I know. That is why I have sent Leia to retrieve Master Kenobi,” Bail continues. He knows right now, with the knowledge of the terror that the Empire has constructed and the doom it could spell for the galaxy, that, “We have never needed the Jedi to return more than we do right now.”

“We must trust in Leia to retrieve Obi-Wan and Luke Skywalker from Tatooine. And then we can get General (L/N). I doubt Jabba even knows the value of what he possesses,” Breha ponders.

“It is unlikely that he does, almost everyone that knows of (Y/N)’s fate is dead now,” Bail kisses the back of Breha’s hand, “We could have three Jedi in play before the week is over.”

“Do not get ahead of yourself, my love,” she cautions, ever practical, “The destruction of that battle station must be the priority. The long run means nothing if we lose the battle we are currently entrenched in.”

“I know, I know,” Bail says, still smiling, “but can you imagine Master Kenobi’s face when we tell him that his best friend has been in his own backyard?”

Breha shakes her head fondly, “I imagine Obi-Wan will wait for (Y/N) to be back amongst the breathing before finding levity in this situation.”

Bail nods in agreement, laughing lightly. 
 
***
 
The muzzle of a blaster digs into the back of his neck. A cool, robotic voice says, “The mighty Jabba demands to know who you were contacting.”

Perin bows his head, offering humbly, “You are mistaken. I wasn’t contacting anyone.”

“I saw you,” Bossk hisses, “You were speaking into this comlink,” he lifts the small device in his clawed hand.

“Tell the truth,” Charo demands.

“You brought him here,” Bossk suddenly turns to the Rodian.

“His actions are not mine,” Charo snaps, arms crossing defensively, “I only vouched for Perin as some muscle for the job, not the man himself. I do not claim responsibility for this.”

“How do we know you aren’t also-”

“Do not speak on a matter you know nothing about, reptile!”
“Reptile?!”
Jabba shouts something in Huttese that Perin doesn’t understand that quickly silences the bickering duo. They both step away from the screaming Hutt, shoulders curling to make themselves appear smaller. Jabba shouts some more and the protocol droid then translates, turning to Perin where he is still kneeling on the metal grate, “The mighty Jabba demands an answer. Know that if you name the man you spy for, the mighty Jabba will show mercy.”

Perin swallows, knowing he cannot reveal who he spoke to or what they spoke about. Bail, the Rebellion, and the Jedi Knight that hangs from the wall within her carbonite cage are all more important than him.

“I am not a spy,” Perin says firmly, “I wasn’t talking to anyone. Bossk is mistaken.”

Jabba roars wordlessly and slams his fat, wrinkled fist against the armrest beside him. Perin’s eyes widen in shock as the floor beneath him suddenly drops away. His shout echoes through the throneroom even as his body drops into the cavern below it. And as Perin falls, and with the entirety of Alderaan and all of its inhabitants already reduced to nothing more than scattered chunks of rock floating in the space where the planet should have sat for eternity, any knowledge of (Y/N) (L/N)’s location is lost again.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Air rushes past him and Leia’s arm squeezes tight around the back of his neck as Luke swings them away from the barge. He keeps his grip on the rope tight, not wanting to slip down even an inch. Han is tending to Chewie, likely addressing the injury he had sustained at the start of the fighting. Lando, meanwhile, is watching them expectantly. He looks ready to jump forward and catch them to ensure they land on the skiff as opposed to overshooting it directly into the gaping maw of the sarlacc below. His concern is unneeded, as Luke’s aim is true, and he and Leia are soon finding their footing aboard the skiff.

“Let’s go, and don’t forget the droids,” he instructs as he releases both Leia and the rope.

“We’re on our way,” Lando replies with a grin.

Luke watches as flames burst through windows on the barge, sending sheets of metal flying from where they had been welded on. Lando steers them over to where golden feet and a white and blue periscope poke out from the sand and they all work quickly to get 3PO and R2 onboard as well.

They end up get away with perfect timing as the barge finally explodes moments later in a rather impressive fireball that sends chucks on metal, and possibly chunks of passengers, flying in all directions. Luke’s hand twitches at his side, knocking a sizable piece of debris from its collision course with the skiff.

“To the ships?” Lando asks as the heat of the explosion washes over them, hot enough to be felt through clothing.

“No,” Leia says, “to the palace. I need to change first.”

Luke stays silent as he watches the dunes of his childhood fly by, thinking about how they have more than just that reason to return to the palace. 
 
***
 
The halls of Jabba’s palace are dark, quiet and empty. Once filled with life, seedy and debauched life but life nonetheless, the building is now a ghost town. The odor has gotten worse as well. The rancor, Luke’s mind absently supplies as he and Lando make their way through the palace. That gigantic corpse is going to make this entire place reek of death and decay.

Leia is off somewhere putting on actual clothes and everyone else went to fetch the ships.

“Hey, what exactly are we looking for?” Lando asks.

Good question.

Luke is searching for something in particular. The problem is that he doesn’t know what. At least, not exactly. All he knows is that he sensed something when he had first walked through these halls to meet with Jabba. With the rescue of his friends obviously taking priority, he had dismissed it from his mind. But now that Jabba is dead and everyone that matters is safe and relatively unharmed, Chewie is still moaning about the burn and Han still hasn’t completely regained his sight, Luke can now shift his attention. 
He had sensed the Force. Specifically, a high concentration of it convalescing around a fixed point. Something he has only ever felt in the presence of other Force users. 
Which is strange. One would think Ben would have mentioned another Force user living on Tatooine, even gone to fetch him or her to join their mission to bring the Death Star plans to the Rebellion. But neither Ben nor Master Yoda had ever said anything. 
But what else could it be, if not another Force user?
Perhaps it’s another situation like that cave on Dagobah. Even on a desert planet inside a building that feels like a kiln, Luke’s skin still pebbles as he thinks of that cave. Though he hadn’t sensed a concentration of the Force when near it so much as an unsettling other-ness. Regardless, what would a place like that be doing in the middle of a gangster’s palace?

Luke is so focused on tracking down the source that he almost smacks his head against a set of windchimes. If a breeze passes through here in order to make the metal sing, he hasn’t felt it. It would be nice if it did. A breeze might help with the stench.

There! He knows immediately that the source is right in front of him and his pace increases before his brain even catches up to what’s happening. Lando is quick to follow even though his question still awaits an answer.

Luke walks right up to the installation on the wall and has an unnerving sensation of deja vu as he gazes at a person frozen in carbonite. He glances over his shoulder to look at what remains of Han’s installation. The two slabs of carbonite serve as horrific bookends for Jabba’s throne room due to their positioning. He had never taken the Hutt to be one with an eye for interior design.

He looks back to this still-frozen person again. Luke had never gotten a good look at Han while he had been frozen, a bit preoccupied with trying not to get shot by Fett at the time, but Leia had described his agonized expression. The woman’s face is serene by comparison. Almost as if she was merely sleeping. The grey carbonite is surrounded by a gaudy gold frame, almost making it look like a piece of somewhat questionable art. Luke might even have been tricked into thinking it was nothing more than that if not for his recent experience with this manner of imprisonment.

“This?” Lando asks, sounding a bit dismissive.

Luke frowns at the tone, but continues looking at the frozen woman’s face as he asks, “What?”

“I spotted her not long after getting here,” Lando explains, “I was concerned that carbonite was becoming a common trend for bounty hunters so I asked around. All anyone knew is that Jabba had never offered an explanation and that she’s been here for years.”

For that first point, Luke simply wouldn’t put it past someone like Jabba to falsely claim to be responsible for the woman being frozen in order to seem more intimidating. It might not be a trend for bounty hunters, but the Hutt could certainly instill fear into the hearts of many by making carbonite appear to be yet another method of punishment for people who cross him. ‘Don’t mess with that Jabba the Hutt, he’ll freeze you in carbonite and mount you on his wall like a trophy.’ By not providing an official story or identity for the woman, Jabba had ensured no one could fact-check him.

For the second, Luke can definitely see signs that support the idea that this person has been frozen for a long time. Standing so close allows him to spot chips in the gold and dings on the surface. The frame is not actually made of precious metal, it’s some other cheaper material with a paint job that's showing signs of wear and tear. Luke grabs a part of the frame and applies some pressure. It gives under his hand immediately, cracking and breaking away. Wood so old that it’s completely dry-rotted. He tosses the fragment to the side. There are also cobwebs around the installation, implying that it’s been here so long that no one really pays it much attention. No one is dusting or tidying up the display, she’s been all but forgotten over here.

But neither point explains why Lando sounded dismissive.

“She’s dead,” he continues, “You’re sensing something else.”

“No,” Luke touches the carbonite. There’s not a doubt in his mind. “It’s from here. Why do you think she’s dead?”

Lando steps forward to point at the control panel on the side, which is much easier to see now that Luke had broken away a part of the frame, “Like I said, I saw her before. I gave the carbonite a quick look when no one was around. See here? This tech is out-of-date. About a decade, I would wager. There’s no way she’s alive.”

“Isn’t there some way you can tell beyond a guess?” Luke asks as he too examines the panels. He doesn’t understand them, but Lando should have enough experience with this technology to be able to give him better than ‘about a decade’.

“No. This tech is too old, I haven’t worked with it before,” he taps a small screen with his fingernail a few times, “This monitor should be lit up and offering data. I don’t know if it’s off because of age and something shorted out or because something went wrong and there’s literally no data to offer because she’s dead. But it doesn’t look promising either way. People aren’t supposed to be encased in carbonite for this long.”

Luke looks at the woman again. He knows very little about carbonite and its effects on living tissue. He trusts Lando is telling him the truth. Han had been frozen for just a year and had suffered from hibernation sickness and temporary blindness. Lando’s best guess is that this woman has been frozen for a decade. Lando is right, it doesn’t look promising.

But Luke’s just so certain that this is what he was supposed to find. He can practically hear an alarm bell going off in his head as Lando’s words make him start to doubt his instincts. His hand lifts to touch her grey face, fingers cutting paths through the thin layer of sand that covers the carbonite.

“Are you alright?” Lando indicates the burnt synthflesh and exposed metal.

Luke’s hand twitches, “Yes, it’s cosmetic. Nothing’s damaged.”

His gaze lowers from the woman’s face as he looks over her entire body. Between her crossed arms, which are placed in an almost ornate or regal way that furthers the illusion of this being a piece of art, he can just barely make out the outline of something on her chest. His eyes widen. He had almost forgotten about his earlier musings when searching for the peculiar concentration of the Force.

“This is a lightsaber,” Luke says, pointing at the cylindrical outline so Lando knows he isn’t delusional. He looks at the other man, “She was a Force user. Please free her. If she’s dead, she’s dead. But I won’t leave her like this.”

Lando sighs but offers no further protest as he pushes some buttons on the side panel. That is the sigh of someone expecting to unfreeze a half-rotten corpse, if not one that has completely liquified within the carbonite. He even takes a step back, as if already preparing for something visceral to spill out onto the floor.

Luke looks on hopefully, believing what he is sensing to be the truth. What Lando says is also true, but if anyone could survive this ordeal it would be a Force user.

The carbonite starts to glow, which at the very least confirms that the system is not completely offline because it complied with Lando’s command.

The woman’s face is one of the first things revealed. Luke’s heart lodges in his throat. She’s been perfectly preserved by the carbonite in the sense that her body has in no way deteriorated, not unlike how an entomologist would carefully curate a specimen. But she still looks like a corpse. She looks dead. Horrifically, painfully, tragically dead. Sunken eyes and cheeks. A layer of moisture covering her sickly skin. She is motionless and she doesn’t appear to be breathing. Luke’s eyes flicker across her features. Come on, he wants to say to her, wake up.

“Luke...” Lando begins.

Luke and Lando both jump in surprise when the woman’s eyes suddenly fly open and she sucks in a huge breath. The last of the carbonite melts away and she falls forward without it there to prop her up any longer. Luke catches her against his body, breath knocked from his lungs, arms wrapping around her torso. He carefully lowers her to the floor and Lando kneels down as well, grabbing her legs to help turn her instead of leaving them to twist around awkwardly. He offers, “Well, I guess I was wrong.”

Luke glances at him briefly in amusement and then focuses on the woman in his arms again.

Her limbs are bound together in chains, as well as to the cuff around her neck. Her entire body is soaking wet and she shivers violently from the hibernation sickness. Her head has fallen backwards limply as she wheezes in frantic breaths and Luke quickly repositions his arm to properly support her neck. Her eyes are a pure white, pupils obscured by an almost milky substance, indicating she’s suffering from temporary blindness like Han.

Luke holds her close and she tries to curl towards him, seeking his body heat. Her eyes flicker around the room despite not being able to see. Her breaths are erratic, her chest heaving from the effort. Lando grabs his canteen and carefully holds it to her open mouth. She drinks eagerly, weakly chasing after the canteen when Lando pulls it away after just a few sips to keep her from getting sick. The last thing this woman needs is to throw up from ingesting too much water too quickly. She seems so weak already, Luke hates to think of her body racked with convulsions as it expels the water it desperately needs.

Her breathing already sounds much better just from the short drink. Luke frowns at the chains around her neck, how her arms are bound across her chest and how even her legs are linked together. Who did this to her? Her clothing, a tunic that is light in color and appears to be made of durable fabric, reminds him of the apparel typically worn on Tatooine. Who is she?

Luke greets gently, “Hello?”

The woman doesn’t respond or even get an indication that she heard him. Her unseeing eyes still dart around, desperately searching for the sight that eludes her at the moment. Lando hums inquiringly and then reaches out to snap his fingers right by her ear which doesn’t get a reaction either.

He looks up at Luke, “She’s probably deaf from being in there so long. The longer you’re in, the worse the side effects get.”

Luke shifts his weight slightly. He wishes he still had his robe to wrap around her and help with her horrible shivering. There’s also a nasty rattling in her lungs and throat that he can hear with every desperate breath the woman takes. He rests his palm over her forehead which makes her jump violently in surprise. His brow furrows, concern growing, “She’s burning up.”

Lando touches her cheek and she jumps once again. He shakes his head, frowning, “That’s dangerously high. We need to get her to the rebel fleet and into a bacta tank immediately if we want to save her.”

Luke pulls his gaze away from the woman, “I have to go to Dagobah, I have unfinished business there.”

“Say no more,” Lando nods and scoots closer, immediately understanding, “I’ll watch over her until you get back.”

“Thank you.” Luke goes to move the woman into Lando’s expectant arms, but her shivering becomes impossibly more violent from the loss of his body heat. And probably fear as well since she has no way of knowing what’s going on around her and the only somewhat sure thing in her world, Luke, is now pulling away. Her hand shakes as it uncurls from its loose fist and weakly reaches for him. It can’t go far because of the chains and also because it seems like the small action is rapidly using up the small amount of energy the woman possesses.

Luke grimaces and pulls her back to him, “Can you go get something to keep her warm?”

Lando nods and quickly climbs to his feet. Luke looks down at the woman’s face again, jumping in surprise when he sees her white eyes are latched onto his face with eerie precision. She blinks slowly at him, wheezing with every breath.

Dark fabric flutters over his head as Lando returns. He kneels down beside them, tucking a blanket that he found somewhere over the woman's body. Working together, the two men manage to wrap the fabric around her. Her eyes are half-lidded, reminiscent of waning moons due to the whiteness, and she is too exhausted to fight their manhandling if it bothers her. Lando tucks his arms under her body and stands, carefully cradling her. The woman weakly moves her body to angle towards him, metal links of her chains clinking together in a haunting way, trying to make it easier to carry her. 
Luke and Lando exchange a brief look and then they leave the throne room. The trio makes their way out of the palace to where the Falcon and Luke’s x-wing sit. 3PO is already onboard and R2 is visible from his slot in the x-wing while Leia, Han and Chewie all look towards them expectantly. 
“Who is this?” Leia asks as she moves to meet their approach, eyeballing the woman’s head where it pokes out from the blanket. As she gets a better look, her brow furrows with apparent concern.

“We don’t really know,” Luke says, “but she was frozen in carbonite too and needs our help. She’s really sick.”
“I can’t really see her,” Han offers, rubbing at his left eye, “but she sounds awful. And I know how bad she feels right now.”
Luke’s never been frozen in carbonite, so he keeps his ruminations over how a year’s culmination of hibernation sickness compares to over ten years’ worth to himself.

Leia nods to no one in particular and declares, “She’s coming with us.”

“Yes,” Luke confirms. Not that Leia was asking for his approval.

“Are you?” Leia asks, attention shifting to him.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I have to go to Dagobah.”

“For long?”

“No.”

Leia seems appeased by that as she immediately refocuses on the woman. She steps closer and rests a hand on the blanket, frown deepening.

“Alright,” Han says, “Take care of yourself, kid.”

“I will.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Leia adds, glancing at him briefly.

Luke nods in thanks and then looks down at the woman. Her sightless eyes are once again focused on him. It’s almost uncanny how she is able to find his face despite her blindness. He isn’t sure what she can perceive right now, but he still promises her, “I’ll be back.” 
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s eyes flutter open and she winces at the pain the small action causes. The lights, which are filtered weirdly, stab deep into her brain like hot needles. She squints, trying to limit the amount of light that reaches her sensitive eyes.

Where is she?

Her body feels weightless. And there’s something on her face. And there’s something irritating her eyes. (Y/N) vaguely spots something floating into her vision. She lifts her hand to grab it and can’t help but notice how strange the motion feels. There’s a weird drag, like she’s in a vacuum of some sort or currently being exposed to increased gravity. Which doesn’t make sense given the whole weightlessness feeling. Is she floating? She pulls on the something that had danced into her vision a moment ago and feels pain in her scalp.

Oh. 
Idiot. 
It’s her hair.

Wait. Why is her hair floating?

Oh.

Idiot. Again.

She’s in a bacta tank.

(Y/N) sends a silent ‘thank you’ to the people who freed her for being smart enough to have gotten her into one so quickly.

Upon release from the carbonite, (Y/N) had felt like death. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had actually crossed that line for a moment before clawing her way back to life and sucking in that first breath that her lungs had screamed for. She had never experienced anything like it before. She had been so lethargic from sickness, her body shaking from the cold and chest heaving with each breath. As she had laid there in the arms of the one man, (Y/N)’s feverish mind had contemplated if she just would have been better off being dead. She had been completely blind, surrounded by darkness and utterly lost. It felt like cruel irony. To be freed from the carbonite just to turn around and be trapped in her own body, unable to see where she was or who she was with. If (Y/N) had possessed the energy at the time, she would have laughed.

She’s pleased to see that her vision has returned, though it is still being hindered by the bacta tank at the moment. There’s a strange blurriness caused by the liquid she’s submerged in that obscures her sight to the extent that she can’t see anyone outside of the tank and hadn’t been able to recognize her own hair.

(Y/N) lifts her hand again, blinking at the blurry fingers in front of her nose.

She hadn’t been able to hear either, that was for certain. Even if the two men hadn’t spoken, which would have been very strange given the situation, she should have been able to hear them breathing, clothing moving against itself and their skin, the clinking of the chains that had been wrapped around her body, her own frantic breaths and the sounds that just naturally come with being able to hear in general. (Y/N) doesn’t know if she can hear right now, but suspects her hearing has returned in stride with her vision.

What she does know is that she is no longer contemplating if death would be the preferred alternative to this. She feels galaxies better than she had before. The bacta has done its job and she no longer feels feverish or lethargic. She is glad to be alive, and eternally grateful for the men who had found her.

(Y/N) had been surprised by her failure to recognize her liberators. In truth, a part of her had expected to be freed just minutes after being frozen and subsequently greeted by Anakin and Obi-Wan. A rather optimistic appraisal of the situation, she can admit to that, but not one without logic. But that clearly is not how things developed. The unknown identities of the two men and the extent of her hibernation sickness tell her that much. That’s fine. Sirbuh, or at least one of his men, had been crafty enough to escape the facility with her body during the chaos. No matter. She’s free, that’s all that really matters. She’ll be reunited with Obi-Wan and Anakin momentarily.

One of the men who had freed her is strong with the Force. Surely he is another Jedi who happened to find her instead of her friends. It is a bit strange, though, that (Y/N) doesn’t recognize him. She’s strong with the Force and has always had a knack for sensing others. And while (Y/N) hardly knows every single Jedi in the Order, it’s still strange that she’s never sensed his presence before.

The other man is not strong with the Force and remains a complete mystery to her without any sort of hint as to his identity.

What’s stranger still is that she doesn’t recognize anyone in the room with her right now. (Y/N) can’t see them, but she knows they’re there and none of them are even slightly familiar to her. Again, she hardly knows everyone that makes up the Republic. But if (Y/N)’s been rescued from Sirbuh, it was surely the army’s doing. Only none of these people feel like clones. And while each clone has their own presence and (Y/N) would be able to distinguish between Taps, Ice, Three-Four, and so on while wearing a blindfold, there is an underlying feel to the clones that they all share. They all come from the same source, Jango Fett, so there’s going to be a similarity to them. But she doesn’t sense that common thread anywhere.

Who are these people?

(Y/N) doesn’t allow all of this unknown to make her panic. The one man, the Force user, is here. She can sense him not too far away.

He is good. He’s a good man. As he had held her body close to his, offering some stability in an otherwise unknown world, she had been able to pull herself from the throes of her suffering and gotten a feel for him. What she had sensed was a soul filled with goodness and strength. She had known immediately that the man could be trusted with her life. Or whatever was left of it. His companion had also given off a similar feeling, so (Y/N) had decided to trust him as well. And her faith in the two men had been rewarded, as she had gotten into a bacta tank and is now on the path to recovery. She will also not forget how the second man had stayed with her during the journey here, always there at her side when she awoke from her fitful sleep.

(Y/N) reaches out and knocks her knuckles against the glass of the tank a few times. She can hear small clunking noises from the impacts, confirming that her hearing has returned. She can sense the surprise from the others in the room, who apparently hadn’t realized she had woken up. She taps the glass in controlled hits.

L E T M E O U T I A M W E L L

She can see someone approach the tank due to the contrast between their colorful clothing and the clear liquid. She cannot see their face and so she cannot tell who they are. Her hand lifts again.

L E T M E O U T

Even if they do not know dadita, it’s obvious she’s trying to communicate.

The person disappears from her limited vision.

(Y/N) can sense people moving around outside the tank even though she cannot see them. Her eyes close. The light still hurts and the constant sting of the bacta isn’t helping. There’s a loud gurgling sound that surrounds her and bubbles start to float up from the bottom of the bacta tank, tickling at her skin. (Y/N) feels her body start to float higher. She hears the slide of metal on metal and then her head is bursting out of the liquid and into the cold air.

She opens her eyes and immediately cries out in pain behind the breathing mask. The lights are even more painful when not being muted by the bacta and the dry air also burns. Her eyes close again, squeezing tightly to try and block every last ounce of light. Her head bows forward instinctively to hide her face from the ceiling where the light fixtures are likely installed and her hands flail out blindly to grab ahold of the top of the tank's walls so she doesn’t have to tread water in order to stay afloat.

“Master Jedi,” warm hands rest carefully on her arms, “it’s alright. You’re safe. Please keep your eyes shut.”

(Y/N) twists her head as other hands start to remove the breathing mask. Once it’s free, she turns her head to face the direction that the female voice came from. She opens one eye just a sliver and immediately shuts it again, wincing. (Y/N)’s head jerks forward again and she sputters when her face hits the liquid.

“Master Jedi, please,” the voice implores, “Please keep your eyes shut.”

“Why?” (Y/N) coughs the bacta from her mouth and croaks, “What happened to my eyes?”

“They were damaged from the carbonite, they will be sensitive.”

(Y/N)’s hands tighten on the metal edge of the tank, “Am I okay?”

“Yes, Master Jedi, you’ve made a full recovery from the hibernation sickness. But you’ll still need to take things slow for now.”

(Y/N) feels hands pulling her wet hair away from her face.

“I’m going to put something over your eyes,” the woman informs her. (Y/N) is grateful for the warning and stays still as something is indeed placed over her eyes a moment later. She opens them once more, seeing nothing but black. The small amount of dry air caught beneath the covering stings but it’s not too painful.

“Thank you,” she says.

“No need to thank us, Master Jedi. Let’s get you out of there.”

(Y/N) lets the hands guide her up over the edge of the tank. A towel is wrapped around her, doing a bit to help stave off the shivers that want to start over being removed from the warm liquid.

“Can you stand?” It’s a male voice this time.

(Y/N) wiggles her toes briefly, but shamefully admits, “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll help you, then,” he tells her. Large hands then carefully grab her, lifting her up into the air. She slumps against a broad chest as the man carries her somewhere. He gently places her in a chair and (Y/N) can only sit there and listen to the two people moving around her. She feels so helpless.

Someone is messing with her hair again, (Y/N) belatedly realizes that they’re drying it with a towel.

“Let’s get some clothes on you. It will help warm you up.”

(Y/N) self-consciously touches her torso, feeling the cloth at her breasts that maintains her modesty. She nods and shrugs off the towel. She asks, “Where am I?”

“Arms up, Master Jedi.”

(Y/N) lifts her arms and feels fabric brush over her hands. She asks again, “Where am I?”

“The medical bay of a ship. You’re safe here.”

“Who is in command of this ship?” It can’t be Obi-Wan or Anakin, they’d be here at her side by now. And she’d be able to sense them onboard.

“You don’t know them,” is the cryptic answer.

(Y/N) frowns softly, but remains silent as the woman pulls the shirt over her head and adjusts the fabric so she’s wearing it properly. She lowers her arms, hands resting on her bare thighs. She senses the woman kneel down in front of her and then her left foot is being lifted from the floor so it can be fed through a pant leg.

“One of the men who freed me is here,” (Y/N) says, “Can I speak with him?”

“He isn’t here, Master Jedi.”

“He’s on this ship,” (Y/N) clarifies.

“I…How do you know that?”

“I can sense his presence. Can I speak with him?”

“Of course, Master Jedi. I’ve already sent L4 to notify him that you’re awake.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N)’s fingers curl against her legs and she asks, feeling a tad embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your names.”

“Oh,” the woman laughs lightly, “sorry, we should have said before. I’m Cirea. And that’s Dolf.”

“Well, thank you, Cirea and Dolf.”

“You’re welcome, Master Jedi. If you give me your hands, we can move you to a private room in just a moment.”

(Y/N) blindly holds her hands out into the empty air, keeping them still rather than trying to flail around and find the other woman. Cirea is quick to take them into her dry, warm hands and helps her stand on shaky legs. Her cheeks warm when Dolf pulls her pants the rest of the way up her legs to sit where they’re supposed to at her waist. Dolf moves behind her and then (Y/N) is in his arms once again. Their journey is a bit longer this time, and there’s a whooshing sound of what must be a door opening since she was promised a private room, and her butt comes to rest on a mattress. (Y/N) twists her body to move into a better position on her own in a lame attempt to reclaim some of her dignity. She can sense Dolf hovering nearby, ready to offer his help if she should need it.

“Do you need anything else right now, Master Jedi?”

“Uh, no,” she shakes her head, “I believe I’m okay for now.” The Force user should be here soon based on how much closer she can sense his presence. Her priority right now is speaking with him.

“Of course. May I have your hand for a moment?”

(Y/N) easily offers her hand out in the direction of the man. His large hand finds hers, guiding it through the air. Her fingers brush against a bedside table and he rests her fingers against, “A button to request assistance. Press it at any time of day, you’re still in the medical bay so there’s always someone close. And you can always shout as well.”

She laughs lightly, “Thank you, Dolf.”

“I’ll leave you, then,” he says and walks away.

“Where is she?”

(Y/N)’s head, pointlessly, turns towards the doorway she was carried through. She’s never heard it before, but she instantly knows that pleasant voice belongs to the Force user.

“Right in there, Commander.”

Commander? So, he’s someone of distinction. Interesting that a Jedi so involved in the war effort hasn’t blipped on her radar before.

“Thank you, Cirea,” he says.

“Commander,” Dolf greets the man just outside her room.

“Hey, Dolf.”

(Y/N) folds her hands in her lap and keeps her head facing the door. She can sense the very moment the Force user sees her from the spark of surprise she feels emanate from him and the way he pauses.

“You’re the one who freed me,” (Y/N) says as a greeting.

“Yes. Are…are you okay?”

“Yes,” she touches the covering on her face, “it’s a temporary precaution. The light hurts my eyes.”

“Oh. Good. Can I sit?”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized there was a chair in the room. She nods, “Of course. And thank you for freeing me.”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” he answers a bit awkwardly, like he isn’t used to being thanked.

“Where are we?” (Y/N) is a bit concerned by the answers-but-not-answers that Cirea had given her. There are other questions she’d like to ask, like what this man’s name is because she’s feels needlessly melodramatic calling him her ‘savior’ or ‘liberator’ and where her friends are, but she needs to get as much information about her current situation as possible. With her sight momentarily limited, (Y/N) needs to try and compensate for that.

“Near Sullust,” the man provides.

(Y/N) frowns slightly, displeased that she is not incredibly familiar with the system she is currently in. She’s definitely heard the name before and is pretty sure there has been fighting here in the past, but she can’t recall the details right now and can’t say much more about it than that. She chooses to move on, “I understand that we’re on a ship?”

“Yes,” he says, “We’re with the rebel fleet.”

“Rebel fleet,” she repeats, fingers twitching.

“Yes.”

“And what exactly are you rebelling against?”

“…The Empire?” He seems utterly dumbfounded by her question.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) says, as a part of her does feel guilty for not being informed about this particular system’s troubles. She’s just been a bit busy with the galactic war to keep track of local disputes. But there’s no benefit to be gained from that comment, so she merely asks, “What Empire?”

“The...Galactic Empire?”

What the hell is he talking about? “What Galactic Empire?”

“The one ruling the galaxy?”

(Y/N) shakes her head, “Is this some kind of joke?” If it is, it’s not a very funny one.

“No,” he says defensively.

“Well then what is it? Because you’re not making any sense whatsoever. I know I’m currently blind, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Are you trying to trick me? Are the Separatists trying to rebrand themselves or something and calling themselves ‘rebels’ now?”

“I’m not tryi-” he abruptly stops mid-word and then asks, “What do you mean ‘Separatists’? Separated from what?”

(Y/N) scowls. Had she truly made such an egregious misjudgement of his character? She says, caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation at the games the man is playing with her, “The Republic? Look, this isn’t funny. Have you Sullustians been living under a rock for the past three years?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about? Why are you pretending like the entire galaxy isn’t currently in a war? You’re a Jedi, aren’t you? You’ve got a lightsaber and you’re strong with the Force. I never sensed you at the Temple before but I-”

“Hold on,” he interrupts her, “Hold on. We need to back up.”

“To when? Five minutes ago when you weren’t playing games?”

The man huffs, “No, much more than that.”

(Y/N) gestures with her hand, silently giving him the floor. She can’t wait to see where he’s going with this.

“You were frozen in that carbonite longer than you’re thinking.”

She frowns at the phrasing, but doesn’t fight him on it. She had suspected as much and has no problem telling him so, “Yes, I figured that. What are we talking here...a year?”

“I...” he sighs, “I don’t know how to break this to you lightly, so I’m just going to say it. You’ve be frozen for over twenty years.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) sputters out a shocked, disbelieving laugh. That must be the most ridiculous thing she’s heard in her entire life. Twenty years. She almost scoffs at how silly it sounds. Whatever games this man is trying to play, he isn’t very good at them. He should have gone with a far shorter amount of time if he wanted any chance at tricking her. But twenty years? It's overkill. How could he ever expect her to believe that much time had passed? And to what end? Why is he trying to deceive her?

“I wasn’t sure,” he says, “Lando was trying to date the tech of the carbonite to figure it out and placed it at about a decade. But you’re talking about the Clone Wars like it’s still going on, so you must have been frozen for over twenty years.”

“The Clone Wars is still going on,” she tells the man, a smirk pulling at her lips. What she wouldn’t give to be able to see right now and watch the realization come over his face that he had failed at tricking her. She continues, “And even if it did end in whatever amount of time I’ve actually been frozen, it certainly wasn’t twenty years ago,” she shakes her head, finally allowing the scoff to pass her lips, “Come on.”

“The war is over,” he insists, “It ended over twenty years ago.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, “That’s impossible.”
And that’s all she can say. It’s all she has to say. Because it’s impossible. It’s impossible that she was frozen that long. It’s impossible that no one found her in all of that time. It’s impossible everyone would just...stop searching. (Y/N) knows that she had spent a decent amount of time out of the picture due to the hibernation sickness and the complete lack of familiarity with everyone around her. She supposes it’s possible the Jedi as a whole might have eventually given up hope. They’ve always been a utilitarian bunch, even more so with the war, (Y/N) won’t hold that against them too much. But she can’t believe that her true friends like Obi-Wan and Anakin would have given up the search until she had been found or they had been given definitive proof that she was dead. Even if they had been given orders, not that such a thing had ever stopped them before, Padmé surely would have taken up the torch. If not for their own friendship, then because Anakin would have asked her to. It’s impossible that much time could have passed. 
It’s impossible.

“I’m sorry, but it is.”

“No,” (Y/N) shakes her head once more, “Why are you lying to me? Is this some twisted Separatist plot-”

“I’m not a Separatist,” he interjects.

She dismissively waves him off, “Separatist. Rebellion. It’s the same thing. You are against the Galactic Republic.”

“The Galactic Republic is gone.”

“Stop-”

“I’m not lying,” the man insists, cutting her off again.

(Y/N) opens her mouth to protest the words, but her voice escapes her for a moment because she knows he isn’t. She can sense that he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t make any sense. She asks skeptically, tentatively, “How? How is it just...gone?”

“It was overthrown,” he tells her, “The Galactic Republic and the Jedi Order...all of that was destroyed. Darth Vader, a Sith Lord, and the Emperor murdered the Jedi and took over the government.”

“I...” (Y/N) tries to collect her thoughts. He just dropped two major bombs on her. The Republic as well as the Jedi, gone. No, not just gone. Attacked. Destroyed. She finally manages to ask, “…The Sith took over?”

“Yes.”

The Republic is under the control of a Sith Lord. Hundreds of senators under his influence.

Count Dooku had told Obi-Wan that when he had been imprisoned on Geonosis. Obi-Wan had then told Yoda and Mace after returning to Coruscant, but they had been quick to dismiss Dooku’s ‘warning’ as nothing more than an effort to sow distrust. It had been the word of a traitor, a traitor to both the Jedi and the Republic, and should be treated accordingly. Obi-Wan had been further instructed to not share the details of his conversation with anyone else, an order he had followed for all of about five minutes until he had been able to track (Y/N) down within the temple and get her alone. Assured by Yoda and Mace’s dismissal, they too had not taken the warning seriously and kept it to themselves. Best not to stir the pot by telling everyone about a baseless accusation.

But was it baseless?

Could it actually be true?

No, what is she even thinking? It couldn’t be true. Yoda and the others would have sensed it.

Though, her mind interjects, for the Sith to take over, they must have been very strong. And being very strong with the Force could have enabled them to hide from the Jedi as well. Had the Sith not hidden themselves from the Jedi until Maul had suddenly appeared on Tatooine? That instance alone was proof of concept that the Jedi’s foresight had weak points that the Sith knew how to exploit. The one who remained after Maul’s supposed death on Naboo had never revealed themselves to the Jedi. Could this lone Sith also be the one Dooku had spoken of? Could one person be capable of so much? It’s certainly possible.

But who?

And how?

(Y/N) asks the man, “How did they do it?”

“I don’t really know. It all happened before I was born.”

She huffs a laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Saying you were born after the war had ended?”

“I was,” he says defensively.

“Sure,” (Y/N) says even though she still isn’t sure she believes him. Even if Dooku’s warning seems to align with what this man is saying, it could simply be a coincidence. And even if there was truth to what Dooku had said, that doesn’t necessarily mean everything this man has told her is true. She tries to explain herself, “Just try to look at it from my perspective. It feels like I was frozen yesterday, in the middle of the war between the Republic and the Separatists, and now you’re trying to tell me that all of that was actually twenty years ago. It's impossible for you to have been born after the conclusion of something that’s still presently going on. It’s hard to try and wrap my head around.”

It just doesn’t make sense. (Y/N) couldn’t have been frozen for that long. She just couldn’t. Dooku was just killed, the war is almost over. Anakin’s going to be a father and (Y/N)’s going to be made a Master. If she tries hard enough, she can still taste the crappy instant caf that Anakin and her had drank on the way to Sirbuh’s facility. Obi-Wan, ever the distinguished gentleman, had drank his usual tea and offered his usual commentary on how all the caf she and Anakin drank would result in ulcers for each of them before the war ended.

Those memories are still so fresh. They couldn’t possibly have been formed and woven into her mind over twenty years ago.

But the man hadn’t been lying. She had sensed it.

(Y/N) reaches out with the Force, desperate to find some sort of explanation for all of this. Maybe the man isn’t actually telling the truth and instead just thinks that he is. It would hardly be the first time that (Y/N) had spoken to someone raised in a cult or in possession of a warped perception of reality. Who knows what goes down on Sullust.

She reaches into the Force, and abruptly gasps in shock at what she finds. Or what she doesn’t find. She can’t feel the Jedi. That’s not right. She’s supposed to feel countless signatures swirling around her as they make up the very fabric of the Force. She’s supposed to sense the Jedi, feel their collective presence in the back of her mind like the indiscernible hum of crowd noise. She should be able to sense her friends, the signatures she’s spent the better part of her life sensing.

But she can’t sense anything. The Jedi are gone. All she can sense is herself and the man who sits by her bed and tells her impossible things.

“I...”

Over twenty years?

(Y/N) reaches up to her face.

“No, wait-”

(Y/N) hisses in a sharp breath when the lights strike her bare eyes. She quickly tosses away the covering in favor of shielding her watering eyes with her hands, head bowing forward. Even now that she’s protected from the direct light she’s still in pain. Just the ambient light is enough to burn and make her vision white. Her heart starts to beat faster in her chest. What the hell is wrong with her eyes?

“Oh, I regret this,” (Y/N) informs the man, “I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything as much as I regret this. Fuck.”

“Didn’t they tell you to keep your eyes covered?”

“Yes,” she grumbles, “why didn’t you stop me?”

He sputters in protest, “I said to wait. Here, how’s this?”

(Y/N) keeps her head directed towards her lap, eyes squinting so much they’re practically shut, as she listens to the man move around. The lights dim to a lower setting, which does ease the pain a bit.

“Thanks,” she says, eyes still watering. She blinks rapidly in an effort to acclimate to the light. She can’t keep walking around like this, unable to have her eyes exposed to light. How will she ever be able to see? Jedi have advanced senses, sure, but she’s not capable of echolocation.

She lifts her head a bit to try and take a peek at the man, parting her fingers to see him.

The only problem is…she can’t see him. Not really, anyway. (Y/N) can vaguely make out his black clothing and dark hair, but she can’t see his face or any details of his person. There’s a strange white coating over everything that completely obscures some parts of her vision and creates a weird filter for the rest.

She blinks at him a few times, trying to make her vision clear and focus on him.

Nothing changes.

“I can’t see.”

“What?” His voice is stiff.

“I can’t see,” (Y/N) repeats, “My vision is...altered. I can’t make out your face. You’re just some vague shapes and colors.”

“Maybe you’re still getting used to the lights,” he suggests.

“No,” she lowers her hands and only slightly winces when the lights hit her face directly, “That’s not it. I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, uh, do you want me to-Wait, hold on!”

(Y/N) ignores him entirely, proceeding with planting her feet on the cool metal floor and standing up from the bed. She smiles, pleased, and takes a confident step forward, which makes her legs give out almost immediately. Luckily she never actually hits the floor as the man quickly flies to his feet and catches her before that can happen. She blinks in surprise by this sudden, unexpected chain of events. He shifts his arms around her and helps (Y/N) straighten back up and find her footing again.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’ve been trapped in carbonite for over twenty years,” he says gruffly, “Try to keep that in mind, will you?”

(Y/N) huffs, “I’ll be fine. Now help me walk to the bathroom.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah, come on. Right foot, left foot.”

He sighs and starts walking (Y/N) towards the door, one hand holding her arm and his other arm wrapped around her back.

“Commander,” Dolf’s somewhat frantic voice greets them as they step out into the hall, “she should be resting.”

“You try stopping her,” is the reply. If the man wasn’t the sole reason she isn’t currently flat on her face sprawled across the floor, (Y/N) would shove an elbow into his ribs right now.

“Don’t blame him,” (Y/N) adds, looking in the vague direction of where Dolf’s voice came from. She can’t see him at all. She continues, “This is all my doing.”

“Where are you going?”

It sounds like Dolf has moved since first speaking. (Y/N) turns her head, trying to follow his path, “Bathroom.”

“Alright...just return to your room right after. Don’t overwork yourself.”

(Y/N)’s tempted to point out that she’s been fighting in a war for the past three years and so being overworked is her natural state of living these days, but decides it’s best that she keep that comment to herself.

The man takes her to wherever the nearest bathroom is and (Y/N) squints at the lights that turn on a moment after they enter the room. She barely even registers the faint discomfort as she is far too busy being concerned over how she hadn’t seen a single thing clearly during the short journey here. (Y/N) pats the arm around her and it tentatively retracts. She manages to stand on her own, which apparently is now a significant achievement for her. She can sense that his arm still lingers close by, ready to catch her again if she falls. After a moment of her standing without his support, the man says, “Okay. I’ll be right outside.”

“No need. I’m just here for the mirror,” (Y/N) clarifies as she walks over to the mirror that she knows will be hung on the wall above the sink. Her hands smack against the edge of the counter that had been lost to her eyes. She rests her palms on the cool surface and she peers at the mirror, only to be horrified by what she sees. Or, what she doesn’t see.

(Y/N) doesn’t see herself. Her reflection is there. She can make out the white of her shirt, her hair where it’s draped loosely over her shoulders, the vague shape of her face. But (Y/N) can’t see herself. She can’t see her face. She lifts her hands and looks at them, bringing them so close to her face that they almost bump her nose. She can see the individual fingers and the bumps of her knuckles if she makes a fist, but the finer details are gone. (Y/N) lowers her hands and leans close to the mirror, desperate to see her own face. But the strange white that hinders her vision keeps it a mystery. (Y/N) turns her head slightly and thinks she can see something alluding to her nose. She leans closer still and sucks in a breath.

“What? Can you see something?”

“My eyes...” (Y/N) reaches up to touch the thin skin below her left eye, “they’re white.”

(Y/N) turns away from the mirror, there’s nothing more it can tell her, head bowing briefly as she shuts her eyes. After a moment, she releases a deep breath and then lifts her head to look at where the Force says the man is. She informs him, “I can’t see. I can't see my own reflection, I can barely see you, I saw nothing of our walk here. The carbonite must have damaged my eyes beyond making them temporarily sensitive to light. Can you take me back?”

“Sure,” the man is quick to say, “Of course.”

(Y/N) reaches out a hand, letting it hang there in empty space. The man quickly steps forward to take it and then leads her back out of the bathroom.

“Maybe your vision will return in time,” he says optimistically, “Han was also frozen in carbonite and he was temporarily blind for pretty much the entire time we were on Tatooine.”

She blinks, head cocking to the side, “Tatooine? That’s where I was?”

“Yes. Jabba the Hutt had you, but I don’t know for how long. Is he the one that froze you?”

“No. That was Sirbuh.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” the man offers.

(Y/N) knows she shouldn’t, but she hopes that means he’s dead. “It’s not important.”

“What can you see? It doesn’t sound like you’re completely blind.”

(Y/N)’s shin bumps against her bed, making her stumble briefly, and she releases his hand in favor of turning to sit on the mattress. She answers, “I’m not. I can see some colors and shapes. I know you’re there, for example, because of your black shirt,” she points at him to prove her claim, “But I can’t see much else. Everything looks white on this ship, it all blends together.”

“Well, like I said, maybe your vision will return in time. Don’t give up hope yet.”

“I won’t,” she says, even though she feels in her heart that this isn’t something reversible. She rubs the bridge of her nose briefly and sighs, “Now, as you can imagine, I have a lot of questions.”

“Understandable. I’ll do my best to answer them, but I honestly don’t know a lot about what happened when the Republic fell. I was born a few days after the war ended, and most of what I know is just whatever propaganda they peddled.”

(Y/N) huffs a laugh.

“What?”

“It’s just funny for me to hear you say that you were born after the war. That’s not supposed to be possible,” she quickly lifts an appeasing hand, “I’m not calling you a liar. I believe your claim that I’ve been trapped in carbonite for a couple of decades and the galaxy I know is long gone. It’s still strange to hear. The war was two days ago for me, not...how old are you, exactly?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Twenty-three years ago,” she concludes.

“I think I understand,” the man says, “So…what do you want to know?”

(Y/N) runs a hand through her hair, which immediately makes her think of something else instead of the line of questioning she had been about to leap into, “My clothes. Are they here? And my lightsaber and necklace?”

“I’m sure Cirea or someone else has them stored nearby. You were brought here directly from the Falcon, they couldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Okay, good,” she nods, feeling a bit better with that assurance, “Alright...the Jedi are gone. I can feel it on the Force. How did that happen? There were so many of us…”
“I don’t know exactly,” the man says apologetically, “I just know there was a purging carried out that killed almost all of them.”
“Almost all? Someone survived?” (Y/N)’s chest swells with hope. 
“Yes, I know of two. Ben K-No, you’d know him as Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
It feels like dark storm clouds had just parted and allowed the sun to shine down on her. A smile so large it makes her cheeks hurt appears on her face as she asks, “Obi-Wan’s alive?! Where is he?” 
(Y/N) doesn’t understand how she could have possibly missed his signature before. She knows Obi-Wan’s signature better than her own. She had joked with him before that she would be able to find it even if he was on the other side of the galaxy. Oh, but who gives a shit if she didn’t sense him? The small lapse in her abilities doesn’t matter. Even her loss of sight suddenly seems inconsequential. Obi-Wan is alive! She could burst into song or start dancing the jig regardless of her still weak legs. She's just so happy. Her hands rest on the bed, ready to push herself back to her feet so she can go find him. There’s a light, airy feeling in her chest that makes (Y/N) think she could float away if she wasn’t careful. 
“No,” the man says, “I’m sorry. He did survive the purge, but he’s dead now.”

And just like that, her world comes crashing back down. Her smile falls from her face and shatters on the floor into a million pieces. The clouds return and the sun vanishes. The heaviness returns to her chest. She can’t breathe. Her lungs have frozen, encased in ice as any warmth in her body drains away. The warmth that she had known for most of her life, the signature that she had held closest to her heart. Gone. And she will never sense it again. What remains of her sight vanishes as well, vision going completely white. A scream of sorrow reaches up from the depths of her very being and sinks its claws into her throat as it tries to rip itself out of her. She almost lets it. If only it could take away some of her pain as it left. Her hand clutches at her chest as if she could reach inside and grab her own heart and force it to stop beating. That would hurt less than this. She eventually rasps out, “Obi-Wan is dead?”
“Yes. It happened a few years ago. I’m sorry. The two of you were close?”
(Y/N) nods and says softly, “He was my best friend.”

The man is quiet.

(Y/N) still can’t see anything. If this is what ultimately tips the scales and robs her of what scraps of her sight had remained, it seems fitting. She pushes down the emotions that bubble up inside her and threaten to burst forth like an erupting volcano, “How?”

“He sacrificed himself so I could escape the Empire with a few others.”

She smiles softly. Even in her sorrow, she can’t help but think that’s the most normal sounding thing she’s heard yet. Obi-Wan died by sacrificing himself for others. That sounds exactly like him. Maybe the galaxy hasn’t gone completely crazy. She blinks and she can see her hand where it clutches at her chest. She isn’t crying. No, she’s too numb for that. She blinks again and lifts her head to ask, “Who is the other?”

“Yoda.”

She nods. That makes sense.

“He just died. That’s where I went. I don’t know how much you remember from when we freed you from the carbonite?”

“I remember you left,” she says, “You went to see him?”

“Yes,” the man elaborates without her needing to ask, “I trained with him for a short time a little over a year ago. Some...stuff came up and I had to leave him. But I needed to speak with him again, so I returned. He died shortly after my arrival. I take it you knew him as well?”
“Yes.” She leaves it at that. Master Yoda hadn’t been her friend, they hadn’t really had any sort of relationship. 
“He said that I was the last Jedi, so I think that means no one else is still alive. Others may have survived the initial purge, but Darth Vader and his Inquisitors must have killed them at some point.”

“Darth Vader?” That’s a name (Y/N) isn’t familiar with. The Sith that Dooku had told Obi-Wan about went by ‘Sidious’. And Maul had been Maul, and isn’t even a Sith anymore. Or is it ‘wasn’t’? Is he dead too? And Maul had never anointed his brother since they weren’t Sith. Though he might also be dead. She doesn’t recall his name coming up when Anakin had told her about the aborted mission on Mandalore. So who is Darth Vader?

“He’s the Sith who helped the Emperor destroy the Jedi.”

Oh, right. The man had mentioned him before.

“And who is Sidious?”

“The Emperor? His real name Palpatine, he-”

“I know who he is,” (Y/N) growls, “Palpatine is a Sith Lord?”

“Yes.”

(Y/N)’s features twist and she feels rage boil her blood. She takes a slow breath, trying to calm herself. Palpatine?! A Sith Lord?! Operating right under the nose of the Jedi, corrupting the Republic from the inside out. An entire war orchestrated to increase the already insurmountable amount of power the man had. She rubs the bridge of her nose, “What about the politicians? They just allowed a Sith to take control?”

“I don’t know the details. Maybe I could take you to someone who does when you’ve got the strength.”

“I’ve got the strength now,” (Y/N) says defiantly, moving to stand.

“Hold on.” (Y/N) watches the man rise from his seat and approach her. His hand rests on her shoulder, applying light pressure as he says, “Just rest for a minute, alright? Spare Dolf the heart attack he’d have seeing you leave this room for the second time in just a few minutes.”

(Y/N) allows him to push her back down, “Alright. I feel fine, though.”

“I’m sure,” he says. 
She peers up at him with narrowed eyes, trying to tell if the man is just patronizing her. 
“Are you sure you can’t see?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You have an uncanny ability to find my face,” the man offers in explanation. 
(Y/N) shakes her head, “It’s just a vague shape to me. It’s like there’s a thick veil over my eyes, I can’t make out the details.”
She squints at him and thinks she can see an edge of his nose.

Deciding to move on from her questions regarding Palpatine, she asks, “Do you know what happened to Anakin Skywalker?”

She steels her nerves. She doesn’t allow herself to hope. To hope, only to lose Anakin too…she doesn’t think she would survive it. 
She can sense how the man’s entire body freezes at her question. He chokes out, “What?”
“Anakin Skywalker. He was a Jedi as well. Do you know what happened to him?” Perhaps Obi-Wan had mentioned him or maybe someone in this Rebellion knew of his fate.

“You-I-What makes you ask about him?”

She frowns, head tilting to the side slightly. She responds not with an answer, but with a question of her own, “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” is the all too quick reply.

“Yes, you are. Do you know him?”

A long silence. And then he tells her, “He’s my father.”

(Y/N)’s jaw drops, “Your father? You’re Anakin’s son?”

Even as she says the words, it feels so right she doesn’t need his confirmation. It’s like the Force is saying ‘good girl, finally using your head.’ This man so very clearly feels like Anakin and Padmé’s kid, (Y/N) doesn’t even need him to say anything. She just knows.

“Yes.” He says the word like he’s confessing to some great sin.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, not understanding why that is.

“What do you mean?”

“What happened? Why do you feel guilty about that?”

(Y/N) blinks a few times in discomfort because she can feel his emotions so strongly that she could easily mistake them as her own. It’s not the nicest sensation, especially when he’s so distressed. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, rolling over themselves over and over again like breaking waves. There isn’t even the hint of any mental shields. It’s hard to make sense of the chaos, but one name is coming across loud and clear. Her brow furrows, “Vader?”

The man stiffens once again, “What?”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrow as she demands, “What happened to Anakin? He isn’t dead, I can tell from your thoughts that you know your father. What happened? Why isn’t he a Jedi in Yoda’s eyes?”

“I...”

She swallows her sigh and pulls back slightly. He hadn’t hesitated to answer any of her questions until this one. Even if she couldn’t sense it, (Y/N) would be able to tell he’s uncomfortable. She softens her tone and requests, “Tell me. You’re literally the only person here I know, there’s no one for me to tell.”

The man is quiet for a moment and then asks, “You knew Anakin?”

“Yes, and I want to know what has become of him.”

He’s quiet again, though (Y/N) can still hear the buzz of his racing thoughts. She knows she could just listen more closely and try to figure things out for herself, but doesn’t. This man freed her from the carbonite and she wants to afford him the respect he deserves. She has entrusted him to tell her the truth about the state of the galaxy. She can trust him to reveal what he knows about Anakin.

“He wasn’t killed in the purges because my father turned to the dark side.”

(Y/N)’s jaw drops once again. Her heart leaps into her throat.

“He betrayed the Jedi and helped kill them as a part of the initial coup,” the man continues, “He’s been the Emperor’s enforcer ever since and has continued to hunt down and kill any Force user in the galaxy that he can find.”

Again, (Y/N)’s first instinct is to tell the man that this is impossible. There is no way that Anakin would fall to the dark side. Yes, he had never been a big rule follower, see: his secret wife, but there’s a huge leap from that to becoming a Sith Lord. It’s impossible. And yet, it seems she no longer knows what is or isn’t possible in this galaxy. What’s more, she can sense that the man is being truthful. (Y/N) presses her palms against her eyes, as if she could block out everything and make what he says false, and only asks, “Why?”

“Why did he fall? I don’t know.”
She sighs, dropping her hands to her lap, “What do you know?”
“Not much,” he easily admits, “I only just found out about a year ago.”

“How did you not know?”

He sighs, “I was hidden from him. If myself or-If I had been discovered, I would have been raised as a Sith. Ben watched over me on Tatooine until circumstances required I get involved in the Rebellion. Vader discovered me at that point and he’s been hunting me ever since.”

“Your,” she chokes on the words and has to clear her throat before being able to continue, “…your father wants to kill you?”

“No! No, sorry, I mean that he wants to turn me to the dark side. He only tried to kill me once and that was before he knew who I was. But once he figured it out, it’s been the only thing on his mind since. He wants to work together to overthrow the Emperor and then rule the galaxy as father and son.”

(Y/N) runs a hand through her hair, thoroughly disturbed by what she had just heard. How casually he talks about his own father attempting to kill him and then stalking him for however long. And Anakin. Anakin, falling to the dark side. Anakin, killing Jedi. Anakin, hunting his own son. How? How could this happen? How could Anakin have become so twisted and evil and warped beyond recognition? How could the man she had known fall so far? The sandy-haired boy she had first encountered outside of the Council room, trying to be brave despite his worry that the Jedi within would reject him. Eager to befriend her, concerned that he wouldn’t be able to get a kyber crystal due to a lack of credits. The petulant teenager sneaking into her room whenever he wanted to get away from whatever was bothering him on any given day. The man that she had never hesitated to trust with her life and who had trusted her so much in return that no secret was too big or too small to keep from her. The man who had loved his wife more than he loved oxygen, the man who had been so excited for his child to be born. Where had he gone?

A thought suddenly dawns on (Y/N) and she immediately asks, heart clenching in her chest due to sickening worry, “What about your brother or sister?”

He chokes, “My what?”

“You’re a twin,” (Y/N) says, “I could sense them before. Where are they?” It then dawns on her that his twin might also be something he is belatedly being informed of…right now. Her brow furrows slightly. 
“...She’s here,” the man tells her, quickly assuaging her concern, “She’s with the Rebellion.”
“And is she also a Jedi?”

“No. She actually doesn’t know about any of this.”

(Y/N) blinks. “How does she not know?”
“We were separated at birth,” he explains, “It would have been impossible to hide from the Sith if we were kept together.”
Okay. She supposes that makes sense. “So Obi-Wan went with you and your mother went with your sister?”

“No. My mother’s dead.”

(Y/N)’s starting to feel numb. Her fingernails dig into her palms to see if she can feel the pain. She struggles to swallow around the huge lump in her throat. Padmé’s dead as well?
“Leia, that’s her name, grew up as the Princess of Alderaan.”
Her eyebrows rise, “Alderaan?”

“Yes. Bail and Breha Organa raised her.”

“Is Bail here?”

“No, he died a few years ago.”
(Y/N) works her jaw as she resists the urge to hit something out of sheer frustration. It seems like it would take less time to just ask the man to name the people that aren’t dead. 
“I’m sorry,” she looks up at the man as it finally dawns on her that she’s still calling him ‘the man’, “What is your name?”

“Luke.”
“Luke, I am so, so sorry,” she gushes, cheeks so hot they might catch fire, “I’m just...a bit overwhelmed. I didn’t even think to ask.”
Luke only laughs good-naturedly, “It’s alright! I’d probably be handling all of this a lot worse than you if I was in your shoes,” he continues self-deprecatingly, “And honestly I’m not doing much better than you in my own shoes because now I’ve got to ask for your name.”
A laugh escapes her and she grins at him, “Aren’t we a pair? I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”“Well,” Luke says, smile audible in his voice, “it’s nice to meet you.”“The same,” she laughs again, shaking her head in amusement over the fact that they’ve been talking for quite some time now and had only just thought to ask for each others’ names. She lifts her hand to rest it against her cheek to try and cool it. 
“Do you have any more questions?” Luke asks. 
“Tons,” (Y/N) admits, “but I’m not sure how may you can answer. I feel like I need to know what happened twenty-three years ago before I can really focus on what’s happening right now.”
“Well, how about we go see someone who can fill in the gaps?”
“Okay,” she says amicably, “I’d just like to change first.”“No problem. Stay here, I’ll go ask Cirea for your stuff.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The halls of this ship are white. White walls, white floors, white ceilings. (Y/N)’s legs have regained their strength so she is making the journey without a problem, but her vision has remained the same and thus left the space around her indiscernible. The only thing she can differentiate is Luke, who walks by her side, thanks to his wonderfully contrasting black clothing. Her hand is lightly curled around his upper arm so he can serve as her guide through the ship. She both doesn’t know where they’re going and wouldn’t be able to get there on her own without smacking into every wall she stumbled across on the way. She doesn’t appreciate either of those things. Luke had easily taken on the role without making a big deal of it, something she had definitely appreciated. The last thing (Y/N) wants is to be pitied.

Having her own robes back on, as well as the familiar weight of her lightsaber bumping against her hip with each step, has helped her feel a bit more settled. It’s a small thing, but the normalcy of it, in stark contrast to literally everything else going on in her life right now, is a comfort.

“So, you’re a part of the Rebellion,” (Y/N) says, turning her head towards Luke, “You’re rebelling against the Empire, right? The Sith-run government?”

“…Yes?”

“Okay,” she nods, “I just wanted to make sure I have my facts straight. When you said there was a rebellion going on and that we were near Sullust, I had initially thought you were talking about some system-specific issue.”
“No,” Luke confirms, “It’s a galaxy-specific issue.”
(Y/N) nods again, “Good. That would have been an awkward conversation to have regarding our conflicting priorities.”
He laughs lightly and then they turn suddenly, (Y/N) stumbling slightly at the unexpected action. Luke either didn’t notice, she can’t blame him if that’s the case given this is likely the first time he’s had to guide a blind person around, or chooses not to comment on it as he only tells her, “Alright, Mon’s just in here.”“Mon?” (Y/N) asks, mind stuttering to halt as a familiar name has finally been spoken about with the present tense, as some of the white shifts in front of them. Probably a door. 
“Yup,” Luke says, pulling her into the room.

“Master (L/N)?”

She looks in the direction of the familiar voice, “Senator Mothma?”

“Goodness,” a blurry figure of white and red says as it approaches her, “Is that really you?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) releases Luke’s arm in favor of stepping forward, “I-”

Her words are cut off in shock when Mon unexpectedly pulls her into a hug as she says, “It is so wonderful to see you again.”

(Y/N)’s hands stay at her sides as opposed to lifting in order to return the embrace, head turned in Luke’s direction. She wonders if he can read the surprise in her white eyes. She hadn’t expected such a warm greeting from the other woman. They had been familiar with each other, sure, but had never developed any sort of relationship or camaraderie beyond that. There had always been a degree of separation between them, be it Padmé or Bail or a larger group setting that limited chance at further discussion beyond exchanging pleasantries and idle chatter about the current state of the war.

Mon pulls away after a moment and immediately asks, “Where did you come from? And what happened to your eyes?”

(Y/N) offers a small, brief smile and gestures towards the man that stands by her side, “Luke found me while he was on Tatooine and freed me from the carbonite. The freezing process must have damaged my eyes, I can’t see very well anymore.”

“You were in the carbonite all this time?” Mon asks, sounding horrified.

(Y/N) hadn’t known the typically collected Senator was capable of getting so much emotion into her voice. She replies with a simple, “Yes.”

“And you were on Tatooine?”

She nods, “I don’t know for how long, but yes.”

“Master (L/N),” Mon tells her gravely, taking her hand, “I do want you to know that the search for your body never ceased. Master Kenobi asked Bail to continue the search before he went into hiding.”
(Y/N) smiles softly, caught somewhere between appreciation that Obi-Wan had never given up on her and sorrow that he had never seen his faith and efforts come to fruition. She says, “Thank you for telling me. Luke told me of Bail’s passing. I’m sorry, I know the two of you had been close.”
“Yes,” Mon says, sorrow coloring her tone, “The loss of Aldeeran and Bail was felt throughout the Rebellion.”

She frowns, thrown by the phrasing, “Alderaan?”

“It was destroyed by the Empire.”

Her eyebrows rise, “The Empire laid siege to Alderaan? And everyone on Coruscant just let it happen?”

“No one on Coruscant has any true power,” Mon explains, “the Emperor controls everything. And, no, they didn’t invade. They destroyed the entire planet.”
(Y/N) huffs, struck with an annoying sense of deja vu as she once again wants to declare something to be impossible. But if (Y/N)’s learned one thing since being unfrozen...aside from all of the other things that she’s learned, it’s that her definition of ‘impossible’ no longer applies. Still, she can’t help but say skeptically, “It’s a planet. How could they destroy a planet?”
“The Empire constructed a battle station that had enough fire power to annihilate a planet with one blast.”
(Y/N)’s jaw drops and she wonders if one time it might just detract and fall off completely. Perhaps her hearing is on the fritz as well. She asks, “One blast?”
“Yes,” Mon affirms, “A truly terrifying weapon never seen before by the galaxy. Luckily, we were able to destroy the station before it could do any more harm. Commander Skywalker is actually the one who destroyed it.”

(Y/N) looks over at Luke, “You did? How?”

“There was a flaw in the design,” Luke supplies, “I fired a proton torpedo into an exhaust port and it caused a chain reaction that blew up the entire station.”

“Excellent!” she praises with a smile, truly impressed by the act. Exhaust ports, in her experience, are rather small. That must have been one hell of a shot for Luke to pull off. It finally feels like something is going her way. The idea of a planet destroying weapon existing somewhere in the galaxy seems like the thing that might have officially pushed (Y/N) over the edge into the full blown insanity everything she has experienced since being unfrozen is trying to drag her into.

“Unfortunately,” Mon says, “we have recently discovered that the Empire has constructed a second battle station of this kind.”

All of the air rushes from (Y/N)’s lungs, “Another one?” She spoke too soon.

“Yes. They call it a ‘Death Star’. We have the technical readouts here, though I don’t know if you would be able to see them?”

“Don’t bother,” (Y/N) waves her off, “it’d just be blurry colors. But we know where it is?”

“Yes,” Mon confirms, “It’s located near the forest moon of Endor, protected by an energy shield. Fortunately, the station is still under construction and is not yet operational. We will be carrying out an attack to try and destroy it before work can be completed.”

“The Emperor is also onboard,” Luke adds.

Her unseeing eyes dart between them. “So we could potentially topple the Empire with one hit?”

“That’s the plan.”

(Y/N) nods, pleased by this new information. She’s fearful of tempting fate in saying so, as fate seemingly has personal vendetta against her, but this really does sound like something going her way. She can’t think of how the scenario just explained to her could possibly have a downside or caveat of some sort.

“Okay,” she says, “I do want to hear more about all of this, but I actually came here to ask you about the fall of the Republic. I’ve clearly missed a lot and would like to remedy that the best I can. When I was frozen,” she ticks off each point on her fingers, “Dooku was dead, the belief was that Grievous would soon follow, and then the war was supposed to end. Luke wasn’t there, so he doesn’t know what happened. Would you be able to assist, Senator?”

“I’d be happy to,” Mon tells her, “Where would you like to start?”

“Excuse me, Senator, (Y/N),” Luke interrupts quickly before they can really get into it, “I actually have to go talk to Han.”

Disappointment flickers briefly in her chest. She had hoped he would stay, if not to keep him in her company as she has already grown rather fond of him in this short time then for his own sake to be able to learn more about a vital, volatile part of recent history. However, (Y/N) knows she wasn’t exactly unfrozen at an optimal time and has likely been keeping him from Rebellion-related matters. Mon also must be someone of significance within the Rebellion and so (Y/N) should be grateful that the other woman is taking the time to speak with her and should focus her attention on getting the most out of the coming discussion.

“Of course,” Mon replies easily, “don’t let us keep you.”

“Will you be alright?”

(Y/N) can’t see Luke’s eyes to know that he’s looking at and therefore talking to her. But when Mom doesn’t answer, she blinks stupidly as it suddenly dawns on her that this is the case. She looks at him, “Oh. Yes, thank you.”

“I’ll come back here when I’m done.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) says again, offering him a smile as she does so, touched by his consideration. She senses Luke’s presence leave her side a moment later and then returns her attention to Mon. 
 
***
 
Mon had done as she promised and filled in the gaps to the best of her ability. She had been privy to concerns that had been developing within the certain sectors of the Senate, the growing anticipation for the war’s end. Whispered questions about how the transition back to a government of peacetime would look. Mon had been there when Palpatine presented his version of things, the only version that remained. The Jedi had been the ones to betray the Republic, according to him. They had tried to kill him and take over the government to seize complete control for themselves. Too numerous, too ambitious, too powerful, too greedy, too dangerous to be kept alive, Palpatine had ordered the Jedi be hunted down for the sake of keeping the Republic safe. And then in the next breath, declared the Republic would be completely dismantled and reshaped into a Galactic Empire. With himself firmly seated in the captain’s chair, of course. The perfect plot: annihilating those who stood the only real chance to stand against him and corralling the rest into submission through fear mongering.
She had been able to answer many of (Y/N)’s questions. Unfortunately, there is much Mon didn’t know. The questions that burn hottest within (Y/N) remain unanswered and she knows it is likely she will never obtain that information because there is simply no one left to provide it. Obi-Wan and Padmé are dead, Anakin has succumbed to a fate worse than death. None of them can tell her the story. Those last days of the Republic, the conversations and events that were at the crux of everything that occurred, are beyond her reach. While (Y/N) had been encased in carbonite, the worlds of those most important to her were destroyed. And she will never know the truth of it. 
“Were you and Mon close?” Luke asks.

(Y/N) frowns, pulling herself from her thoughts. She answers honestly, “No, not particularly. The Jedi didn’t really get involved in the Republic’s affairs before the war. I had only met a handful of politicians before the fighting started.”

“I wasn’t sure. You seemed surprised by the hug,” he explains.

“I was,” she admits, “I think it was prompted more by the memory of what I represent than for me specifically. I remind her of a simpler time.”

“Was it?”

“What?”

“Simple.”

“I said ‘simpler’, not ‘simple’. And it was. At least before the war. The Republic was good, it wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did if the people were unhappy. It was the war that brought everything crashing down.”

Luke hums quietly.

They walk through a doorway and (Y/N) senses two familiar presences, “Dolf, Cirea, hello.”

“Hello, Master Jedi,” Cirea greets in return, “Commander Skywalker.”

“What are you two doing here?” (Y/N) asks. She’s been awake for quite a while now, shouldn’t there have been a shift change or something? “It’s late...I think. I can’t exactly look at a clock.”

Cirea laughs lightly, “Yes, it’s late. Technically we should be off, but we both wanted to stay and make sure you got back in one piece.”

“We’d hate for there to be another setback because you overworked yourself,” Dolf adds, concern coloring his words.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows rise, “Another setback?”

There’s a thumping sound, probably Cirea hitting Dolf.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi-”

“Please,” she raises her hand, “I’ve had my share of formalities. Just call me ‘(Y/N)’.”

“(Y/N),” Cirea corrects herself, continuing with a pointed tone that says she’s likely glaring at Dolf, “I hadn’t intended on telling you just now so we could avoid unneeded stress.”

“It’s no stress as it’s in the past,” (Y/N) says easily, “Whatever it was, I survived it, clearly.”

“It wasn’t really a setback,” Dolf offers, still trying to roll back what he said despite her reassurances, “just a few scares when you first arrived. Your heart stopped briefly while we were prepping you for the bacta tank. And Lando said it happened twice on the journey here.”

Luke stiffens beside her, “I didn’t know about any of that.”

“Look,” (Y/N) turns her head to look at him, “I don’t have a lot of experience in the medical field, but I’m pretty sure there’s a confidentiality rule or something.”

Luke sighs but doesn’t protest.

(Y/N) returns her unseeing gaze to Dolf and Cirea, “Thank you for your concern. And please know that I’m very grateful for your efforts in making sure I survived the whole ordeal. I don’t know who your superior is, maybe Luke can introduce me to them tomorrow, but I’d like to offer some commendation in an admittedly weak return of the favor.”

Luke doesn’t answer, but (Y/N) thinks he might have nodded and just not thought about how she can’t see it.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Cirea practically gushes, “but there’s no need to do that, we’re just doing our jobs.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Dolf asks.

“Yes, thank you. I’m going to bed now actually, funny enough my hibernation wasn’t all that refreshing. Please, get some rest yourselves.”

(Y/N) lets Luke guide her towards her temporary bedroom while Dolf and Cirea offer quiet farewells.

“You won’t have to stay here,” Luke offers as she feels around for the bed she knows is close, “I think it’s safe to say you’re out of the woods and don’t need a medical droid on standby. I’ll find you a real room before tomorrow night.”

“Thank you, Luke.” (Y/N) feels a bit ridiculous, and pathetic, that she’s letting him handle such a small task for her when it’s something she could usually handle on her own. She’s been self-sufficient for most of her life and isn’t used to waiting for others to do things for her or just being waited on in general. But (Y/N) needs to remember that she’s in a new galaxy and it’s better that the guy who can actually see, can make his way around the ship on his own, and knows who to talk to be the one to handle this.

“I’m glad you’re doing so much better, I didn’t say before,” he adds, “I almost didn’t leave for Dagobah because I was worried about you. Hearing that your heart had stopped just brought that feeling back.”
(Y/N) smiles kindly, “I’m glad I feel better as well. I wouldn’t wish hibernation sickness on my worst enemy. And thank you, again, for finding and freeing me. I fear what would have become of me if I had stayed frozen for much longer.”
“You’re welcome, think nothing of it,” Luke sounds flustered by her thanks, “I guess I should let you get some rest. I’ll come find you in the morning. Or maybe your vision will have returned and you’ll be able to come find me.”

“Luke,” (Y/N)’s fingers curl and uncurl, touched by his optimism but not sharing it, “I know you’ve told me not to give up hope yet about my eyes. I’m trying not to, but I’d like to offer you some advice as well: don’t let your hopes get too high. My vision hasn’t changed since I woke up in the bacta tank, there’s a good chance it won’t get any better.”

“I understand,” which (Y/N) can sense isn’t a lie, but can also tell he’s not happy about it, “Tomorrow we can tackle finding the mess hall and trying to give you an idea of the ship’s layout either way.”

She nods and offers with a smile, “Good night, Luke.”

“Good night, (Y/N).”
 
***
 
(Y/N) wakes with her face buried in her pillow and her limbs jerking violently as if they needed to assure themselves that she isn’t still bound in chains. She slowly rolls onto her back, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. Her fingernails press into her palms, no doubt leaving little crescent indents in their wake.

This is it. This is the moment.

Maybe she just dreamt it all. Maybe it’s all in her head.

Maybe she’ll open her eyes and see Obi-Wan or Anakin sitting vigil by her bed. Or Taps, Wings or someone else from the 378th. Maybe she’ll open her eyes and be on Coruscant, where she’s been recovering after only having been frozen for at most a year. Maybe Padmé’s here, keeping an eye on (Y/N) while the others are off fighting.

Or maybe she’ll open her eyes and it will be the morning before the mission. Before she, Obi-Wan and Anakin had boarded that ship and flown to Sirhub’s facility. Maybe this has all been a crazy dream spurred on by three years of abnormal sleep patterns, never-ending fighting and an unhealthy amount of caf. Or maybe it’s a vision of one of the many possible futures that the Force is trying to give her the chance to prevent. Master Yoda had always advised not to dwell on visions of the future or to try and change fate, but (Y/N) would gladly let herself fall to ruin if it would mean sparing the Jedi and the galaxy from the future she’s seen.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, and then releases. And then opens her eyes.

They close immediately. No need to look anymore. No need to turn her head and look to see if someone sits at her bedside. No need to do anything. She knows. She knows from the blurry white ceiling that it hadn’t been a dream or vision. Her unfreezing, the hibernation sickness, meeting Luke and being introduced to his impossible galaxy. All of it had been real.

Her breath is violently expelled from her lungs as her chest caves in on itself. Grief wraps an icy hand around her throat. 
Her friends. The other Jedi. The Republic. 
(Y/N) sits upright suddenly, eyes opening once again and she pushes the sheet down her body. Her legs swing to the side and she pushes herself up from the bed. Carry on. Move forward. These tenants have been carved into her bones over and over with each loss she has suffered. She can do nothing but keep going, for what else is there? Padmé had once told her about a type of fish that inhabits Naboo, though the name escapes her at present, that has to constantly swim to avoid drowning. Something about its gills and the water being pushed through them by the motion of swimming which allows the fish to breathe. (Y/N) must be that unnamed fish. She must move forward to keep from drowning in her own grief.

She crosses the room, steeling her nerves and pushing down everything that swirls inside her.

Her vision is gone. She both accepts this fact and resolves to make it immaterial. She will use the tools still available to her to ensure the loss is never felt. That any loss is never felt. Carry on. Move forward.

Bathroom. That’s achievable. She needs to find the bathroom.

Luke isn’t here to be her eyes, but (Y/N)’s other senses are still fully functioning and her memory is as sharp as ever. He had turned her to the right. So (Y/N) turns to the right and rests her hand against the wall. She walks onward, feeling the smooth surface with her fingers. When the cool metal suddenly dips, she pauses. (Y/N) turns once again to face the indiscernible white head-on and explores with her fingers. She finds a button and presses it. Some of the white moves and (Y/N) steps inside.

She finds another button to turn on the lights.

Yes. The bathroom. A small victory relative to what she has achieved in the past, but the small accomplishment means far more than its outcome. It gives (Y/N) hope that her loss of vision isn’t a death sentence. She was able to find her destination on her own. She did that without sight. There’s hope that she can learn to do more and find a way to resume some semblance of her life. (Y/N) wants to be independent. She wants to have the ability to take care of herself. She’s a Jedi. She’s supposed to help people, not the other way around. 
(Y/N) smiles at her blurry reflection, trying not to get too upset that she can’t see it on her face. 
She finishes up in the bathroom, taking a moment to fix her hair that had been mussed by her pillow, and then leaves. She carefully walks to the main area of the medical bay and that’s when the Force flares briefly, calling her attention to Luke’s approach. Keeping a hand to the wall, (Y/N) is able to find the open door that leads to a hallway. Based on what she’s sensing, this will lead her to Luke. She steps outside of the medical bay and faces him expectantly. 
“Good morning,” Luke’s voice greets her, still too far away for her damaged eyes to see beyond the black of his clothing, “You have perfect timing.”
“Not at all,” she replies easily as he walks closer, “I sensed you were approaching. And good morning to you as well.”

He reaches her side as he asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) confirms and reaches out expectantly, hand bumping his arm quicker than she had expected. Her lips twitch in displeasure. It seems her depth perception is utterly shot. Moving on from the moment as quickly as it had come, she simply tucks her hand around to rest in the crook of his elbow and says, “Lead the way.”

Luke easily acquiesces, taking them back the way he had just come from. He asks as casually as possible, “I take it your sight hasn’t returned?”

“It hasn’t,” she confirms, “but that’s alright.”

“Is it?”

“It has to be.”

Luke turns unexpectedly and (Y/N) is physically yanked into it, tightening her grip on his arm for stability and free hand rising aimlessly as she stumbles. He slows immediately to grant her a small reprieve to collect herself, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) assures him, having found her footing easily, “I’m just still getting used to not seeing.”

“I wish I could help,” he says.

“I know, but it’s not something that can be fixed. One can’t be frozen in carbonite for over twenty years and there not be any permanent consequences. All things considered, it could be worse. Even in just this instance, I’m grateful I’ve retained some of my sight as opposed to none.”

Luke huffs.

“What?”

“I’m just...stunned.”

“...Did I say something?” (Y/N) runs over what she just said, trying to see what could have been so offensive.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assures her, no doubt sensing that she’s worried, “I’m just amazed by how well you’re handling all of this. I wouldn’t be coping nearly as well as you.”

She sighs, “Well. After everything I’ve learned about the rest of the galaxy and what’s happened to the people I care about...I can’t possibly get caught up on my own problems. I’m still alive, I’m still breathing. Not many people I once knew can say that. The galaxy is in a terrible state, and I can’t possibly wallow in self pity over lost sight when so many have been robbed of life or freedom.”

Luke guides her into a room that is filled with life and the usual droning noise of indistinct, overlapping chatter, a stark contrast to the empty halls they’ve been maneuvering. She blinks rapidly, “Woah. Where are we?”

“The mess hall,” he supplies, “Go right, there isn’t a long line to the counter.”

(Y/N) turns right, heading towards the tantalizing smell of food. She hadn’t felt hungry yesterday, no doubt she had been given some intravenous nutrients while in the tank, but the smell of breakfast food is enough to make her feel ravenous now. For once, it truly feels like twenty-three years have passed since her last proper meal as her stomach growls for sustenance as if it had genuinely experienced that passage of time as opposed to having been trapped in stasis with the rest of her body.

“You,” Luke begins, breaking off like he’s searching for the right words, “...you act like it’s so easy to just...set yourself aside.”

“The Jedi don’t have a strong sense of ‘self’,” (Y/N) explains, “We are raised within and as a community. I had my Master who trained me, but several people raised me and taught me when I was a child. And many Jedi offered me advice and helped me strengthen my abilities throughout my adulthood. We work together to bring about the next generation of Jedi and we’re taught to be protectors of the galaxy. I don’t have to set myself aside seeing as I was never at the forefront in the first place.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” he says, “Just disregarding yourself like that, I mean.”

“Maybe not,” she easily concedes, “You’ll never hear me say the Jedi were always right. I disagreed with a lot that was done in my lifetime.”

“Like what? Actually, hold that thought, we’re almost at the front.”

(Y/N) finally releases Luke’s arm, suddenly feeling like she’s adrift in an endless ocean without his anchor. She can sense him right beside her, and can see his blurry figure moving as he grabs food. And she can sense the other people in the room. But without something solid to latch onto, besides the hard floor under her feet, (Y/N) feels lost again. If Luke were to leave right now, she’d be helpless. She doesn’t know how to maneuver this room, and can only hope she remembers the way back to the medbay, the only place she somewhat knows.

“(Y/N)?”

Her head turns to Luke’s voice, “Yes?”

“Here’s your tray. Come with me.”

(Y/N) reaches out, hands bumping against the cool metal of the counter. Her fingers slide over the smooth surface and find the edge of the tray. She looks down and can faintly see some splotches of color. She grabs the tray and turns to follow Luke. He’s got plenty of big colors that are easy to spot, and his Force signature calls out like a beacon. Luke easily makes his way through the people and tables, bringing (Y/N) to a vague grey blog that must be an empty table. She places her tray on said table and reaches for the smaller grey blog beside it, a seat. Her knuckles smack the backrest and she pulls the chair away from the table enough to sit down. She’s about to inhale her meal when Luke asks, “So, what have the Jedi done that you disagree with?”

(Y/N) glances at him, silent for a beat. Her instinct is to question the third degree, helpless to stop how she wants to squirm under the scrutiny. She can’t help but think that this is like what an interrogation carried out by the Order if they learned of her doubts would be like. She swallows her sigh of frustration over her own inane thinking, knowing it’s wrong to say that about Luke. He isn’t suspicious of her, he’s just curious. He wants to know about the now-extinct Order he’s still trying to follow. Luke didn’t raise an eyebrow, at least not one that she saw, at all of (Y/N)’s questions. And she had even accused him of being a Separatist. Which, admittedly, might not have been that big of an insult to Luke. But still. 
She sets aside her hunger for a moment, deciding to answer as candidly as possible. She is absolutely, unequivocally done with biting her tongue when it comes to critiquing or questioning. Look where her prior restraint got her. Got the galaxy. “Well, I had my issues with our involvement in the war. The Jedi are meant to be keepers of the peace. I don’t know how fighting in a war coincided with that.”“Why didn’t you ask?” Luke asks and she almost smiles. To him, it’s a concept that seems so obvious and simple. It should have been, she can’t help but think bitterly.  
(Y/N) squints at her food, trying to determine just what she’s about to eat, “I did. The reasoning I was given never sat right with me.”

“And you went through with it anyway?”

She sighs, “It was a difficult time for the Jedi and the Republic. And I know that’s not an excuse for blindly following orders, but that’s why I did it. Everyone else seemed okay with it, so I felt that meant I was wrong for doubting. The war wasn’t...all bad. I protected innocents and, at least I think, made the galaxy a better place for a time. The Separatists were not good people and I was keeping systems free of their influence,” she frowns to herself, wondering if any of that is actually true. Could all of that have just been propaganda? Had she spent three years spinning her wheels to no effect? She finishes quietly, “Unfortunately, my presence created footholds that the Empire soon exploited. But no one had foreseen that coming.”

“You never got beyond that, though?” Luke asks, “Just a few doubts?”

“I didn’t say that. I silenced my initial doubts and did what was asked of me, but I always tried to keep my eyes open and an ear to the ground even as I accepted my marching orders. I continued to see things I wasn’t sure I liked, and I did eventually speak to Obi-Wan. He shared his own concerns in return and we had been planning on working together to try and find more pieces to the puzzle.”

“Why didn’t you?”

(Y/N) smiles sadly, “I was frozen in carbonite on the same day as that conversation. I never returned to Coruscant to follow through with the plan, and then the Republic fell not soon after. I don’t know what Obi-Wan did or did not do in my absence, but the end result was the collapse of everything I once knew.”

Her fingers curl and uncurl as her gaze lowers. Would it have made a difference, if she had spoken up sooner? If she had approached Obi-Wan with her concerns earlier? If she had pressed harder at the beginning? How many Jedi would have avoided dying in the fighting if she had? Would Shaak still be alive? Would the Order and Republic still be standing? Could she have spared Obi-Wan and Anakin if she had just had the courage to speak up?

Her stomach growls something awful and Luke’s hand finds her arm briefly, pulling her from her thoughts, “Eat. We can talk after.”

She nods silently, reaching for her utensils.

“I…” he trails off for a moment and she can distinctively sense him fidgeting nervously beside her before he eventually continues, “I’m sorry if I upset you, I-”

“There is no need for your apology. It is no one’s fault but mine,” (Y/N) quickly cuts him off, not wanting Luke to blame himself for choices made before he was even born. She lifts her sightless eyes, hoping he can recognize sincerity in their strange whiteness, “I am happy to discuss these things with you. We both cannot learn from history and are doomed to repeat it if we don’t know it. I hope it will help you be smarter than the rest of us combined.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“You said that you can use the Force to find people,” Luke says, “How does that work?”(Y/N)’s head tilts slightly as she contemplates how to best phrase it. This was a standard concept taught to Jedi, she’d never really needed to explain it before. And her above-average proficiency in it had never warranted an explanation either, just as a knack for mind tricks or something like retrocognition didn’t. He had been given some level of training by Obi-Wan and Yoda so it’s strange to (Y/N) that neither this or mental shields had come up. She wonders if this omission was because of a lack of time or because there had been more pressing lessons. She really needs to sit Luke down and have him tell his whole story. That would help her get a better idea of just what he’s capable of, or at least aware of. “I can sense the signatures of other living beings within the Force itself. Not unlike how you can sense things around you that you might not be able to see.”“Like a seeker droid?”She nods, “Precisely. It’s just on a different plane of existence. It can be both a conscious and subconscious thing, something I can explicitly reach out and try to sense or something I’m just absently aware of. It’s not an exact science by any means. I couldn’t tell you the exact coordinates, I would only know a general direction and approximate distance, but it’s still accurate. You could leave me somewhere on this ship and I’d be able to find my way back to you. It would take a while, especially since I’d probably walk into some walls on the way, but I would get there eventually.”“Is it really that difficult to see?”“When it’s all the same white like this?” she squints at the wall they walk alongside, “Yeah, it all blends together. And my depth perception seems to have gone the way of the Republic.”Luke laughs and then remarks after a beat, “I really shouldn’t laugh.”“I won’t tell,” she says with a shrug, not at all bothered by them finding some levity in the situation. What’s she supposed to do, sit there and wallow in self pity? No thanks. She continues, “I think I’ll do better planetside. I can sense life forms, so I should be able to get a feel for the space around me if they were there. There’s nothing about these hallways that’s living. It feels like I’m in a void.”“Well, after the Empire is defeated, I’m sure we can find a planet full of living things for you.”(Y/N) smiles at him, squeezing his arm briefly in thanks.It’s strange to think the next phase of her life will take place somewhere that isn’t Coruscant. It’s the only home she’s ever really known seeing as almost all of her memories of her homeworld are gone and the part that had truly been ‘home’ is nothing but ash and bones now. But Coruscant is more a city masquerading as a planet than an actual planet and there’s virtually no life there besides the countless people that live on it. (Y/N) will be as blind there as she is on this ship. Arguably, she could return to the Temple. That had always been the plan once the war ended. And (Y/N)’s spent enough of her years there that she could probably maneuver her way through it with a blindfold on. But she also thinks that place would swallow her whole if it was just herself and sullied memories. “Hey, Luke!”(Y/N) allows Luke to turn her as she pulls herself from her thoughts. She quickly reaches out with the Force, trying to sense who is approaching them, as the voice continues, “And look who it is! It’s nice to see you out and about.”She offers a kind smile to said voice and says, “Thank you, and trust me when I say no one is more pleased than me. I know we’ve technically met before, but I’m afraid I still need an introduction.”“When did you meet Lando?” Luke asks. (Y/N) makes a face at him, “He was with you when you unfroze me.”“You could sense that?” He sounds shocked by that. And she would be a bit annoyed given the conversation they just had, but quickly reminds herself that she had been flirting with death at the time so it’s not unreasonable for Luke to think she had been too out of it to take notice of what had been going on around her. “Yes,” (Y/N) returns her unseeing gaze to Lando, holding out her hand, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” stopping herself short from adding other details that are no longer relevant. No need to specify that she’s a Jedi Knight or a General in the Grand Army of the Republic seeing as both positions no longer have any meaning.  A warm hand takes hers and (Y/N) blinks in surprise when, instead of being shaken, it’s turned and lifted. She feels the faint brush of lips and facial hair and then Lando says, a smile evident in his voice, “I’m Lando Calrissian, and it's lovely to meet you.”Her cheeks warm in response. This isn’t the first time she’s received a kiss on her hand as a greeting, Hondo had done so numerous times and oddly enough Cad Bane had graced her with one once, but it still manages to get her flustered every time. “Thank you for your role in freeing me,” she says, “you must know that I’m eternally grateful.”“I’m happy to help,” he replies, “I only wish you had never been put in such a situation in the first place. No one should have to go through that.”(Y/N)’s hand is finally released and she directs her gaze towards the other blurry figures. “Hey there, Han Solo,” and a calloused hand takes hers to give it a firm shake. She shakes his hand in return, “Hello. I understand you were recently in a similar situation. Have you made a full recovery?”“Yeah, I’m right as rain. I can see, uh, that you can’t.” There’s a thump and stifled grunt of pain that says someone just kicked or hit Han in reprimand. But (Y/N) just laughs, hard. She grins at him, “Thank you, I really needed that. Unfortunately you’re correct. Most of my sight has been lost. But, please, none of you need to tiptoe around it. Or me. I told Luke earlier that there are far worse alternatives.”She offers her hand to the final person, having a very good idea of who it is solely from her signature. A petite hand takes it, “I’m Leia Organa.”(Y/N) smiles warmly, “It's a pleasure. I knew Bail and Breha before, I was saddened to hear of their passing. You have my condolences. They were good people.”“Thank you.”“I spoke with Senator Mothma yesterday,” her brow furrows slightly. Is Mon still a Senator? Ah, well. She continues, “She told me that Bail continued the search efforts after the Republic fell. I wish I could thank him for that in-person.”“I’m just glad you were finally found,” Leia says, her tone kind but also sad, “I’ve always felt that the failure to recover you was one of my father’s greatest regrets.”(Y/N) blinks in surprise. She hadn’t realized her disappearance had had such an impact on those outside of her close friends. For it to have weighed so heavily on Bail’s mind…well, she’s both touched and humbled. To have a kind heart in this galaxy is a rare thing. It’s rarer still to keep it. Bail Organa was truly one of the best of them. “So,” Han says, “you’ve been monopolizing Luke ever since you woke up which means we haven’t been able to get any info on you. Leia says you must have been frozen for well over twenty years for the timeline to work. Is that true?”“Yes,” she nods, “Twenty-three years to be precise, it would have been shortly before the Republic fell.”“Wow. Well, you look great.”(Y/N) laughs while Luke offers a sharp, “Han!”“Aside from your vision, you’re alright?” Leia asks, “Should you even be up and walking around right now?”That last question sounds more like an accusation directed at Luke than a question for (Y/N). And given how Luke mutters, “You try getting her into bed,” it must have been. Han promptly snorts. And when (Y/N) actually thinks about how it sounded, she does too. And then Luke has the nerve to flick her. Which is so painfully like something Anakin would do, it almost knocks her over. She blinks and answers Leia, “I’m fine.”“Can I ask you a question?” Lando inquires politely. (Y/N) smiles kindly, “Just ask. I’m nothing special, you don’t need permission.”“I imagine it’s a difficult topic of conversation,” he offers as explanation, “I didn’t want to intrude.”“Intrude away,” she brushes aside his concern with an absent wave of her hand, “I’ve certainly been picking Luke’s brain since I woke up.”“Why were you frozen?”She fights to stop her body from tensing up at the question. Her halted reaction is not because she doesn’t want to answer, but rather because the memories are unpleasant. Her freezing has been bookended by tumultuous emotions and debilitating pain, (Y/N) doubts she will ever be able to think of the experience without grimacing. She supplies, “I was on a mission with two other Jedi, Obi-Wan and Anakin. Anakin and I were captured and I lied to save him from being hurt. I had hoped Obi-Wan would find us, but he arrived a second too late and I was frozen in place of Anakin.”“You would do that for him?” Luke asks quietly. “Yes, of course,” (Y/N)’s head turns towards him, “He’s my friend.”Her damaged vision has never been more prominent in her mind than it is right now, as she would like nothing more than to be able to see his face. She has refrained from reading Luke’s unguarded mind out of respect, and is not yet familiar enough with him to be able to discern his tone. Seeing his expression right now would help to clue her into just what he’s thinking regarding his father, her relationship with him, his own relationship with him, and so on. Anakin is still alive, that much is certain, and (Y/N) has no doubt that the saga between father and son has not yet concluded. Luke had not yet asked her about Anakin, but she knows the questions are coming. “That’s pretty selfless of you.”“I know the concept is foreign to you, Han,” Lando remarks, “but that’s how the Jedi were.”“Nice,” Han grouses. Leia sighs tiredly, “Anyway, you two. (Y/N), what are you doing now that you’re awake?”“Right now or in general?”“Either.”“Well,” (Y/N) glances at Luke, “Luke was showing me around the ship so I can get an idea of just where the hell I am. As much as I enjoy his company, I’d like to be able to get around on my own.”“That’s a good idea,” Han says, “You’ll need to be able to find your own way after we leave tonight after all.”(Y/N) looks at him, head tilting slightly, “Where are you going?”She feels Luke move slightly beside her. She waits a moment for a response, and it quickly becomes obvious that Han isn’t going to offer one. “Han?”“Hmm? What’s that?”(Y/N) repeats the question, eyes narrowing, “Where are you going?”“Oh,” he says airily, “you know...around.”(Y/N)’s jaw ticks as she turns her head to direct her glare at Luke. It’s quite clear that the tiny movement from him a moment ago had been a gesture of sorts to signal for Han to not answer her question. “…There’s a lot of galaxy out there,” Han adds weakly. “Han,” Leia says quietly. “Yeah?”“Stop talking.”“Yup.”(Y/N) continues to look at Luke, expectant and accusing at the same time, hoping her gaze is actually directed at his eyes or at least fairly close to them. A glare isn’t quite as intimidating when it’s fixed on someone’s chin. A high-pitched beeping suddenly comes from behind (Y/N) and Luke, interrupting the standoff. She spins towards the beeping immediately, asking in disbelief, “R2?”The astrodroid beeps happily and she can hear wheels spinning quickly on the floor as he rushes down the hall. “R2-D2, is that really you?” she laughs, kneeling down. She’s able to make out patches of blurry blue that come closer to her. (Y/N) lifts her hand to rest her palm against a familiar domed head that spins around and around as he whistles. She grins, “I can’t believe you’re here!”R2 offers a series of beeps. (Y/N) laughs again, “Still getting into trouble, I see.”He raspberries. “I know, I know, I haven’t been doing much better,” she smiles ruefully, patting his head affectionately, “I still can’t believe it! What are the chances we run into each other twenty years later?”Han’s voice comes from behind her, “3PO could probably give you the odds.”(Y/N)’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “3PO’s here too? You’re still hanging with that golden stick in the mud after all these years?”R2 beeps.“That’s true,” she concedes, “Where is he? I’d love to see him again.”He warbles quietly in response, wheeling a bit closer to press her hand more firmly against his domed head. Never let it be said droids are heartless or unfeeling. She offers a sad smile, “I’m sorry, my friend.” While (Y/N) does agree that it made sense to erase the memory of Anakin’s protocol droid, she can’t help but sympathize with the asterdroid before her. She can’t help but feel that they’re opposite sides of the same coin: both alone, one without knowledge and one burdened with the totality of it. While (Y/N) had been spared the task of managing the past two decades, R2 has had to maneuver it without anyone to truly talk to. “I’m glad to see you again,” she says quietly. He feels like a piece of home, one that now only exists in her memories and his databanks. The galaxy already feels less lonely with his familiar beeps and whistles here. R2 beeps happily while spinning his head once more. “Now, R2, I need your help,” she says conspiratorially, “Luke’s been keeping secrets from me. And even though I can’t see it,” she sends a pointed look to Luke that, in contrast, he actually can see, “I think he’s making gestures to keep the others from telling me. Where are they going tonight?”“R2,” Luke immediately says, “don’t you dare.”R2 raspberries and then offers a series of beeps. “R2!”“He was my friend first, Luke,” (Y/N) remarks, patting the droid’s head in thanks and then standing. She faces him, crosses her arms, and asks, “So when were you going to tell me that you’re going to Endor?”Silence. “I’ll take that as never?”“(Y/N),” Luke says, almost sounding as if he’s exasperated with her which just seems unnecessary, “you just got out of the carbonite a few days ago. You can’t go to Endor! You’re in no condition to fight right now.”Her eyebrow ticks up, “I’m pretty sure I’m a better judge of that than you are. And I say that I am.”“You just told me that you’d walk into a wall if I left you alone,” he says flatly. There’s a slapping sound. Like someone just smacked their forehead. “I can’t see here,” (Y/N) gestures around aimlessly, “on this all-white death trap. But I should be able to see if I’m on a planet because I’ll sense the life forms. Endor isn’t a ship, it’s a planet.”“Technically we’re going to a moon,” Han pipes in. His subsequent cringe is practically audible. (Y/N) is silent for a moment as she blindly stares off at nothing while contemplating her continued existence.“Regardless,” she continues, “I’ll be able to see there. Well, see enough. I can handle myself in a fight and I haven’t lost my connection to the Force. It is a powerful ally to have, and one I have great pride in having. I’m going to Endor.”“Alright, hold on,” Han speaks up again, sounding more confident and sure of himself this time, “That’s not up to Luke.”(Y/N)’s head snaps over to him, “What do you mean?”“I’m leading the mission on Endor, so I’m the one who decides who goes and who doesn’t.”“And?”“And I don’t think you should go,” he tells her, “I know what it’s like to be blind and I don’t really care about your claim that the Force can help you see. I can’t see the Force, but I can see that you’re blind.”“I’m only mostly blind,” (Y/N) points out. “And I was ‘only mostly blind’ on Tatooine, so I know there isn’t as much of a distinction between the two as you’re trying to make,” Han counters. She scowls at him, “Are you a Jedi?”“No.”“Then it’s not the same. I can see with more than my eyes.”“I think we should give her a test run,” Leia proposes.“Leia,” Luke huffs, “I’m not about to drop her into the middle of a war zone for a ‘test run’.”“I didn’t mean like that,” Leia replies shortly, “I mean here with the fleet.”“Good idea,” Lando agrees, “There’s no harm in a test. We just have to find somewhere that lightsabers and blaster fire won’t cause a panic.”“Luke,” (Y/N) looks at him, “you said the fleet was near Sullust. Take me there on a ship, I’m sure someone will loan you one-”“Han has his own ship,” Leia offers. “You mean my ship,” Lando adds teasingly. There’s probably a good story there. One for another time, though. “Okay,” she says, “so we take that to Sullust. You can test me there, it’ll be more similar to Endor’s setting than if we stayed aboard a ship. You can bring your saber and they can bring blasters. And after I prove I can handle myself, I get to come to Endor without any more protests.”Luke doesn’t immediately reject the idea, which (Y/N) takes as a victory. She’s gaining ground with him and with Leia and Lando joining her side. “Hold on, hold on,” Han protests, “We aren’t seriously considering bringing a blind woman into battle are we?”“Look, son,” (Y/N) addresses him firmly, “I’ve been fighting this fight since before you were born. And I fully intend on being there to see it end.”Han sputters, “Did you just call me ‘son’?”“Uh, yeah? I know I don’t look it, but I’m over fifty years old,” and wow, that is so incredibly strange to say, “Pretty sure I’ve got you beat there.”He quickly collects himself, retorting, “Look, kid-”“Here we go.”“-Twenty-three of those years were spent trapped in carbonite. You didn’t gain any sort of experience all that time being a wall decoration. Those years don’t count, you’re still twenty-something.”“Experience?” (Y/N) asks in disbelief, “You want experience?! I’m a Jedi Knight! I spent my whole life training and learning how to fight. I was hours away from becoming a Jedi Master when I was frozen.”“That doesn’t mean anything here,” he says dismissively, “All that ‘Jedi Knight’ ‘Jedi Master’ stuff is worthless now that the Order’s gone.”(Y/N)’s scowl deepens, “Alright, how’s this then: I was a General in the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars. I led an entire legion of troops during my tenure. And I’m pretty sure a General outranks a Captain, flyboy.”“I was promoted to General for this mission, smartass,” Han informs her. “Oh,” she says mockingly, “and I’m sure you’ve gained a ton of experience in the twelve hours since then. I was at war for a solid three years.”“This is a lot of nice talk-”“I’m ready to put my credits where my mouth is. Take me to Sullust and see what I can do. And if by some chance I’m wrong, then I’ll stay here with a smile and wish you the best of luck as I send you on your way. But at least give me the opportunity to show that I can do this.” (Y/N)’s unseeing eyes flicker between Luke and Han expectantly. “We’re going to Sullust,” Leia suddenly declares, “with or without you two moon jockeys. If you want to see for yourself if (Y/N) can still fight, you’ll just have to come along.” Leia then moves and (Y/N) soon finds her arm being taken by the other woman as she says primly, “Come on, (Y/N), the dock is this way.”(Y/N) smiles smugly as she’s led away, nose in the air. R2 and Lando come along with them, the latter saying quietly under his breath, “Three...two...one.”“Hold on!”“Hey, wait a minute!”Leia just keeps walking as if the two men left behind hadn’t spoken and aren’t currently scrambling to follow them, which makes (Y/N) laugh.  *** (Y/N)’s eyes are closed as she angles her face up to the sun. Her mind still hasn’t completely caught up with the idea, but there’s a part of her that knows that she hasn’t felt sunlight on her skin for twenty-three years. So (Y/N) takes a moment to just take in the rays, smiling softly at their warmth. Sullust is apparently a volcanic hellscape of a planet with an atmosphere so toxic that its inhabitants are required to live in subterranean cities. Rather than trying to maneuver that, they had gone to Sulon instead. Home to a thriving agricultural program, the moon of Sullust is far better suited for this ‘test run’. “Alright,” Luke breaks the silence, “we’ll take this slow. Just you and me first, then the others. And their blasters are set to stun.”“I understand,” she says. “Are you ready?”(Y/N) finally opens her eyes, not able to see the sun in the sky beyond the way looking directly at it makes her eyes hurt. She lowers her gaze and looks at Luke as she takes her lightsaber from her belt. She triggers it, feeling a bit more like herself with it in her hand. The familiar buzz, the familiar weight, and the green blade is bright and strong enough that it pierces through the veil that obscures her vision. (Y/N) had been correct, she can see much better here than she could on the ship. Even if the life forces around her are largely small and insignificant in the grander scheme of things, the Force still exists in all of it. This, and the different colors that make up the field they stand in, make it much easier for her to orient herself. She can sense Luke, as well as the others observing not far away. She can sense the flora and fauna around them, even the earth under her feet feels more real to her than the metal she’s been traversing. Even the air feels different. She twirls the saber once and adjusts her grip slightly, nodding, “I’m ready.”Luke’s own lightsaber triggers, revealing a green blade. A smile pulls at her lips. (Y/N)’s foot slides on the ground and she feels the loose dirt shifting and blades of grass bending under it. A gentle breeze kisses her face as Luke steps closer. He moves his saber slowly, very slowly, giving (Y/N) ample time to react and the chance for himself to stop the motion in case she doesn’t. (Y/N) deflects the blade easily, twirling her lightsaber to bring it to his exposed neck in a flash. She smirks at him. “Alright,” he laughs despite having a deadly blade just inches from his throat. (Y/N) pulls away, turning to walk a few steps back. She spins her saber as she faces him once again, “Your move.”Luke approaches her again, blade moving a bit faster this time. (Y/N) blocks the slow strike, quickly twisting her wrist. Luke moves to avoid a repeat of last time and swings again and (Y/N) steps to the side so it harmlessly passes by her. She turns, lightsaber raising to point as his exposed face. (Y/N) smirks at him once again, “I told you I can still see.”“Are you even going to try and attack me?” Luke asks teasingly. “A Jedi should never raise their weapon unless it’s in defense,” she tells him.“Sounds like you’re afraid,” he taunts in return. (Y/N) grins and turns away again, spinning her saber a few times. She feels the Force fluctuate around her as she faces him again. She isn’t sure how much training Luke actually has so she won’t go too hard on him even if he had, literally, been asking for it. (Y/N) charges him, blade twirling. She swings half-heartedly and Luke blocks it with ease. She spins, briefly turning her back to him as she swings for his other side. Luke blocks it again, knocking her blade away. (Y/N) steps back, saber raising to intercept his attack. Their lightsabers clash against each together and the blades screech as they both lean into the deadlock. She can see the green light reflecting on Luke’s face even if the finer details are still lost to her. Her instinct is to shove an unexpected knee into him, but doesn’t want to actually hurt him so she instead moves her hand and pushes him away with the Force. Luke stumbles back and (Y/N) follows, swinging her lightsaber. He retreats further, but still blocks the blade each time she strikes.  She spins her saber, suddenly stopping her progress. Luke, easily reading her, immediately stops his retreat and goes back on the offensive. He charges right at her, blade moving the fastest it has yet. (Y/N) grins and steps forward to meet him. They start sparring for real, both now assured that the other can actually fight. (Y/N) starts moving faster and making stronger hits as she lets more of her restraint go. She wants to see just what Luke is made of. She still can’t entirely see, but it seems Luke fights with both hands on his saber’s hilt. He packs a punch with each hit and seems to have a strong base. (Y/N) wonders if he’s learned to fight in this style from fighting his father or if this had just been what he naturally gravitated towards. (Y/N) tends to fight with more lightness of foot and typically with only one hand on her saber. Obi-Wan had always said that with her fluid movements she could fight in a storm without getting wet by simply dancing between the raindrops. (Y/N) senses Han moving closer, which breaks her analytical train of thought. She shoves Luke away with the Force and turns to block the blaster fire. She deflects another shot and twists to intercept Luke’s attack. She turns quickly, swinging her blade at him to make him retreat for a moment. (Y/N) drops to her knee, spinning away as a few blasts harmlessly fly past her before quickly springing back up to her feet. (Y/N) blocks more blaster fire even as her head turns away to look over at seemingly nothing. She knows Leia and Lando are there somewhere, she can sense their intent to enter the fray. “Go. Focus on them,” Luke says from a few feet away. (Y/N) turns, blade lifting to block the blaster fire that comes from Leia and Lando. The angles are off, saying they’re no longer standing by each other. She deflects each blast, easily tracking the bright colors. She senses movement behind her and deactivates her saber, turning to grab Han’s blaster. (Y/N) pushes it to the side, wayward blast shooting into the ground, twisting both of them around so he’s now between her and the other two. Her forearm comes up to intercept his free arm, preventing the attempted hit. (Y/N) quickly shoves her hand into his chest to knock him back a step and triggers her blade again to raise it protectively in front of her chest. (Y/N) spots another green light out of the corner of her foggy vision and turns to start fighting Luke again. She listens to Han back away and guides the fight so Luke works as her shield and stops the others from shooting. Her lightsaber swings are fast and brutal and Luke meets her blow for blow. When she senses the others moving again, she tries to make Luke turn once more. He fights her on it this time, clever enough to recognize the ploy after seeing it only once before, and remarks, “Nice try. Not falling for that one again.”(Y/N)’s eyebrow quirks up as their blades interlock again. She inquires, “Have I convinced you yet?”“You’re getting there,” he tells her, smile audible in his voice. She thinks she can spot a flash of white teeth. She grins in return and knocks away his blade. She moves in the direction opposite of the one that Luke takes a step in, twisting her foot so just the toe of her boot hits the back of his knee and knocks him down to one knee as opposed to bringing down the bottom of her boot which would have broken the leg entirely. She steps back and throws her body into the air. As (Y/N) flips backward, she hears the blaster fire she had been anticipating. Her body continues to rotate and as she reaches an upside down position, her lightsaber swings under her to intercept the blast that would have unintentionally struck Luke. (Y/N) lands cleanly and easily turns on her toes to face the three people holding blasters. “Stop!” Luke calls. (Y/N) immediately straightens from her fighting stance, deactivating her saber and returning it to her belt. She walks back over to Luke and amicably offers her hand to him. He quickly takes it, and she’s pleased that he finds no shame in doing so, and climbs back to his feet.  “Very impressive,” Lando remarks as the trio of him, Leia and Han approaches them. “I’ll say,” Han adds, clapping a hand on her shoulder,  “Looks like you’re coming with us to Endor, Jedi.”(Y/N) smiles, pleased.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) runs her thumb over the edge of her tray, lips pursing briefly as she considers her next move.

After returning from Sulon, everyone but her had been needed elsewhere. While she wouldn’t accuse anyone of intentionally keeping her in the dark, because even if Luke had not shared his particular role in the coming fight he had been open about the fact that one was imminent, there was a clear difference in how much information was being provided now that her ticket had been punched to Endor. For one, she had quickly come to learn that Lando actually isn’t a part of the group going to Endor’s surface. Instead, he’ll be leading the fleet in the attack on the Death Star itself. With far more moving parts, it’s a surprise he even had the time to join their brief excursion to Sulon. He had a series of meetings and conversations to have, and had quickly departed for the first of them. She had also discovered the ship that she’s been on this whole time, aside from the aforementioned trip to Sulon, is called

Home One

and is the flagship of the whole fleet. (Y/N) had then met and briefly spoken with Han’s first mate, a Wookiee by the name of Chewbacca. She had vaguely known of him before she was frozen, having heard his name in passing during her brief trip to Kashyyyk a few years before the Clone War started, and it had been nice in a tragic sort of way to have found another being that had lived long enough to see both eras of the galaxy. In her admittedly limited experience, such a trait was a rare find. 
The four of them had been due for a meeting with the rest of the strike team going to Endor to try and coordinate just what they were going to do once arriving there. One could argue she should have attended said meeting, and she had indeed argued as such, but Han had reasoned her presence, and appearance, would generate more questions than they had time to answer. She imagines the fun task of explaining to the others why a blind woman they had never seen before was joining their covert mission at the last minute would fall to her on the journey to Endor. But she had agreed with Han’s assessment without any fuss, and thus had been left to her own devices. 
Well, not entirely. R2 had stayed with her.

(Y/N) had found her way to the mess hall, having nothing really better to do than eat lunch and also wanting to enjoy a proper meal while she still could. She hoped dearly that ration bars had improved in taste in these past twenty-three years, but highly doubted it. R2 had beeped and whistled his way through the meal, doing his best to further provide the information she desperately craved. They had not broached certain topics, but that hardly meant they were short of options for conversation. While (Y/N) is grateful to have been filled in on a lot of what she had missed, and knows there is much still to come, it’s been a bit of an emotional and mental toll to try and process everything.

She’s finished eating now. Had been for a while, actually. For the past few minutes, (Y/N)’s been sitting here like the invalid she’s trying not to be and trying to summon up the courage to take her tray to the window. The task alone isn’t too daunting, it’s the unknown that makes her hesitate. She doesn’t know what to do after that. The last thing she wants is to be a burden, aimlessly stumbling around the ship and metaphorically whimpering like a newborn pup while pawing at whatever door keeps her from the few people she knows.

(Y/N) shakes her head at her own helplessness. And ridiculousness.

She stands and carefully walks to where she thinks Luke had led her after they had finished breakfast this morning. After being on solid, living ground, (Y/N) feels even more blind here than she had before. Her skin and eyes itch to return to a planet where she isn’t surrounded by metal. (Y/N)’s foot suddenly strikes the wall and she pauses, reaching out with a hand to confirm the small blemish in the white in front of her is the window. It is, so she places the tray on it. She turns away from the wall and asks while squinting her eyes, “R2?”

He beeps, confirming the hints of blue she was able to perceive do indeed belong to him.

“Okay, just making sure.”

(Y/N) starts walking, eyes looking around to try and make out if anyone’s about to cross her path. She’s been rather isolated from the Rebellion as a whole so far and the last thing she wants is to make a first impression of being a bumbling, blind idiot by crashing into someone in the middle of the fairly crowded cafeteria. And it certainly wouldn’t do her any favors later while trying to convince the strike team that she will be of use during their mission.

“Do you have anywhere you need to go?” she asks R2 casually, “I don’t.”

R2 beeps.

“Alright,” she sighs. (Y/N) hasn’t been given a proper room yet, where she could maybe meditate for a while or at least be out of the way, and also doesn’t want to go back to the medical bay where everyone would be worrying over her and asking how she’s doing every five minutes. “I guess we can just walk around until we run into someone.”

The droid whistles.

“Very funny,” she says flatly, “Yes, hopefully not literally.”

(Y/N) reaches over and rests her fingertips on R2’s domed head. Hopefully that will help her walk in a straight line and avoid bumping into a wall. She swallows her sigh. While she tries her best to be at peace with her current predicament, she can’t help but taste bitterness on her tongue at times.

“I hate feeling like this,” she confesses quietly to R2 as he guides her down the hall, “Helpless. I never used to feel like that.”

The number of times (Y/N) has genuinely felt helpless can probably be counted on her two hands with several fingers leftover. The attack that killed her parents. Grievous’s lightsaber searing a hole through Shaak’s chest. Bound in chains and being lowered on a small metal platform to be frozen in carbonite. When she had been in the throes of hibernation sickness. Maybe a few others.

R2 whistles sadly.

“There you are.”

(Y/N)’s head turns away from the wall she’s been squinting at to see if she could identify when it curved to indicate an intersection. She easily spots the black silhouette she’s come to associate with Luke approaching her. She replies easily, “Here I am. Unless you were talking to R2?”
“You were right the first time, though I’m always happy to see R2,” Luke says warmly, no doubt offering a smile to the droid that he seems to love as much as Anakin had. He continues, “I wasn’t sure where you had gotten to, Cirea was on shift but hadn’t seen you.”
“I went to the mess hall,” (Y/N) offers, peering at the vague shape of Luke’s face. 
“Oh, that’s good. So,” he clears his throat, “I was hoping to talk to you before we left.”
She nods amicably, “Alright.”

“Come with me.”

Luke takes her offered hand and starts leading her back the way he had come. She absently notes that he keeps her hand in his own rather than tucking it by his elbow or around his upper arm as they had done before and finds she doesn’t mind the change in method. If anything, she prefers this way as it leaves a bit more room between them and makes her feel more confident that she isn’t about to tangle their legs together or step on his toes. R2 wheels after them as (Y/N) looks around aimlessly, “Where are we going?”

“My room. Turn left.”

(Y/N) turns with Luke and they don’t go much further before he’s pulling at her hand, “Stop here.” 
She quickly stops, having only taken one step further than she had needed. She turns back and returns to his side as Luke presses a button and the door she hadn’t been able to see opens. He guides her inside, quickly turning the light on, and (Y/N) releases his hand and makes for the chair she can vaguely spot. Her shin knocks into one of the legs, making her nose wrinkle in frustration and embarrassment, and she sits down with all the grace she can muster in her current state. She turns her head expectantly towards Luke and asks, “What do you want to talk about?”
Luke sighs, not answering right away. She can sense his trepidation, had sensed it growing since he had taken her hand to guide her through the ship. As if not able to be still, he paces around the room. She’s never been a fan of pacing in a small room, always feeling like a predatory creature trapped in a cage at a zoo that could never be big enough or free enough to be comfortable. If (Y/N) didn’t have a working theory on what this conversation would entail she would ask if it would be better that they continue walking around the ship. Perhaps their promenade about

Home One

would ease some of his nerves by providing a continued outlet for them. 
He says suddenly, “You got frozen in carbonite for my father.” The abruptness of the words make them feel like an accusation, but (Y/N) knows better than to actually consider them that. 
She nods calmly, hoping the easiness of her demeanor will encourage his to match, “Yes.”

“You said you were friends.”

(Y/N) nods once more.

Luke sighs again, “Could you tell me about him?”

(Y/N) looks up at him silently for a moment. She had known this conversation was due to come at some point. Instead of offering an actual answer, she instead asks, “Why?”

“What kind of question is that?” Luke asks with a frustrated tone, pacing stopping sharply in his irritation. He seems to immediately both catch his tone and regret it, pacing resuming as suddenly as it had stopped but not speaking further. He offers after a moment, more calmly, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. What I meant to say is that he’s my father. Despite what he’s done, he’s still a part of me. Or I a part of him, I suppose. I want to know what he was like. I want to know where I come from.”

“Luke,” she says carefully, “I know that. I’d like nothing more than to tell you about Anakin. But I...I do have to wonder if there isn’t more to it. The man I know, the man I consider a friend…I don’t see how he could become the person you know. The Anakin I know would never fall to the dark side. I don’t know what happened that got him to the point that he did. I wasn’t there, and everyone who was is either dead or would kill me the moment they knew I was alive, so I’ll probably never know. I have an idea of why you truly want to know about your father, but I worry what I would tell you wouldn’t be any help. I worry that it would only hurt you.”

Luke finally stops pacing. He is quiet once more before walking over to sit down on his bed. He tells her bluntly, “Ben and Master Yoda have both told me that I have to kill my father.”

(Y/N) closes her eyes for a moment, heart aching. How far have they all fallen?

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he confesses, “He’s my father. Even after all that he’s done, he’s still my father. And I believe there is good in him.”
Her eyes open and she asks quietly, “You do?”
“Yes,” Luke says, “I can feel it as strongly as I can feel that he’s my father. Darth Vader isn’t my father, Anakin Skywalker is. I think there’s still some part of Anakin buried deep under it all. And I think I can get to it.”

Her fingers curl and uncurl. She only nods, not wanting to stem what feels like a dam finally bursting by speaking.

He continues, “Ben believes Anakin is completely gone, he’s given up all hope that he could ever return. And Master Yoda believes the same thing. He told me I must confront him.”

(Y/N) bites the inside of her cheek to keep her own dam intact.

“You haven’t said anything like that,” he says, “You didn’t see him fall, you didn’t have to deal with the fallout. I worry Ben and Master Yoda might be letting their emotions cloud their judgment.”

Now she does need to speak up. “But isn’t it a conjecture if I voice an opinion when I don’t know all of the facts? Obi-Wan and Yoda may be too emotional, but I might be too. I love your father.”

“You,” the words catch strangely in Luke’s throat, “...love him? Like…?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widen as she realizes what he means, “Oh! Oh, no! No! Not like that.” She wasn’t blind, or at least hadn’t been back then, so (Y/N) had always been aware of the fact that Anakin was handsome. But recognizing what is plain to see does not mean she was at all…affected by it. She thinks her relationship or bond with Anakin, if it were to expand beyond the scope of friendship, would be better acquainted with the bond of siblings than lovers. Decidedly not romantic. She shivers at the mental image, shaking her hands like she can shoo away the thoughts, “Ew, ew. No. Absolutely not like that. Purely platonic.”

Luke huffs a laugh, “Okay, sorry. My bad.”

“Anakin is a dear friend of mine, that is all that I mean,” (Y/N) explains, “I’m having difficulty accepting that he would turn on everything he stood for, kill the Jedi, betray the Republic and spend the last twenty-three years as a Sith Lord’s lapdog. I’m sorry, but I fear I’d give just as skewed an opinion as Obi-Wan and Yoda.”

“I don’t want your opinion,” he quickly assures her.

She shakes her head, confused, “Then what do you want?”

Luke rises from the bed and starts pacing again.

(Y/N) watches him silently.

“I don’t know my father,” Luke tells her, “I know absolutely nothing about him. When I was growing up, my uncle and aunt told me that he was a navigator on a spice freighter. I believed that for the first nineteen years of my life. It was Ben who finally told me the truth: that he had been a Jedi. He told me he was a good fighter and pilot. Yoda says I have anger in me like my father. That’s it. That’s all I know, and I’m running out of people who can tell me more. I know what he’s done to the galaxy, but I still sit here believing that I’ve sensed good within him. I need to know if I’ve gone completely crazy or if I’m imagining things to try and convince myself that I don’t come from a monster. I need to know if that’s my destiny too, if I’m fighting a battle I have no chance of winning,” Luke sits down again, burying his head in his hands given how his voice is now muffled, “I want to know if my father is someone worth saving. I want to know if the person I’m trying to bring back is someone better…or just more of the same.”

(Y/N) leans forward and grabs his wrist, “Luke. Luke, look at me.”
She feels the angle of his breathing change, the only sign she can get that he did what she told him to. She smiles at him for a moment and then tells him, holding his gaze despite not being able to see it so he knows she’s telling the truth, “Your father is a good man. Anakin Skywalker is a good man. And even if he has fallen from grace, that means nothing about you. I want you to dispel that idea from your mind and never allow it to return. Your father’s choices and mistakes are not yours and they will not decide your destiny for you. Only you can decide that. You want to know who your father is? He’s one of my best friends. He’s one of the best Jedi I know. He’s strong with the Force, one hell of a pilot, and he’s a good man. He always tries his best, he always looks out for others. He loves unapologetically, he’s loyal, he’s compassionate, and I know I can trust him with my life. You want to know if your father is worth saving? I can say without a doubt in my mind that he is.”Luke moves slightly, taking her hand into his and pressing it against his forehead. She can see the dark color of his hair and knows his head is bowed in a silent gesture of thanks. He exhales raggedly. He asks of her, “Tell me about him. Tell me something. Please.”
(Y/N) smiles fondly at the memory as she recalls it for him, “I was anointed a Jedi Knight earlier than most people. I don’t know if I held the record for all time, but I was definitely the youngest in the recent few generations. Anakin was exceptionally strong with the Force, everyone expected him to be anointed young as well. The two of us had a bet going on whether he would beat me or not. We had a countdown for the day that it would be official that he’d be older than me. As we got closer, I would make a point of checking for his braid each time I saw him.”
“Did he beat you?”
“Nope,” (Y/N) says triumphantly, “I beat him by a year and two days. And I never let him live it down, even if it could have been perceived as vanity by others. It wasn’t, I just liked teasing him. That’s the kind of person he was, he always loved to have a good laugh. Especially where or when he shouldn’t be looking for it,” she laughs even as her chest aches, “We used to dare each other to do the stupidest things. Anakin had the perfect combination of a sense of humor and a lack of shame, so I got him to do crazy things. One time, I dared him to dress backwards for the day. He wore his boots on the opposite feet, his pants and shirt backwards. We got pulled into a fight unexpectedly, the enemy moved in faster than we thought, and there wasn’t time to change so he had to fight the whole time like that.”

Luke laughs quietly, no doubt picturing how foolish the man had looked. She bites back her own laughter at the memory of just how foolish he had indeed looked. And the scarlet blush that spanned his entire face when Obi-Wan had noticed afterwards.

“We had a plan for something big,” (Y/N) continues, “He and I knew that he would end up on the Council soon, if not as a Master then by being invited to sit in like I was. I was going to include him in the game Obi-Wan and I played-”
“Obi-Wan?”
She laughs, “Yes. Obi-Wan had a great sense of humor too, he was the worst of us. He and I would try to find creative ways to sit in our seats. I’m sure it sounds a bit tame and silly. But it was a great honor to participate in Council meetings and neither of us wanted to be disrespectful, so we didn’t dare get racier than that. As for silly, I readily admit that it was. But we were at war and we both desperately needed to laugh every once and a while, otherwise we’d go crazy. It started small at first...I once sat with my legs crossed like I was meditating. And Obi-Wan countered by practically falling into his seat instead of sitting with the grace and control he usually employed. Like I said, small. We escalated to me practically laying sideways in my chair like it was a hammock. And Obi-Wan,” she can’t help the  short laugh that bursts out, “he sat backwards. He sat down with his back to the rest of the Council and face to the window behind the chair, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He quickly turned to face the right way when the meeting actually started, but I think I pulled a muscle fighting back laughter for the entire session. One time, I messed with my holoprojector so my hologram hovered above the physical seat instead of sitting in it. Obi-Wan was on Coruscant at the time, so he had to sit there with my hologram floating a few feet above everyone else. But then Obi-Wan came back with his hologram too low so all I could see was his head poking out of the cushion.”
Luke is full on laughing now. 
“I,” she grins, shaking her head at their antics, “I had to turn off my own projector so I could take a minute to collect myself. I quickly got back into the meeting and apologized for the technical difficulties. But Obi-Wan’s detached head had the smuggest smile for the rest of the session, so I knew that he knew. Anakin couldn’t wait to join in on the game, he kept hinting at some killer ideas he had.”

(Y/N) swallows, smile falling away as she’s suddenly hit with a horrible, deep stab of loss. She’ll never know if Anakin had been telling the truth or just showboating. She suddenly feels guilty for being so jovial. They’re both gone. How could she ever laugh again with the sources of most of her joy lost forever?

She shakes her head, shaking off her sorrow and re-focusing on the reason for sharing her memories. She squeezes Luke’s hand and tells him, tone returning to a more serious one now, “Never doubt that he was once a good man, never doubt that he had once been loved in his entirety. Obi-Wan, Anakin and myself once believed that we would grow to be old and grey together, and this was met with excitement not reservation. I would have died for him and he would have died for me,” her hand tightens as she urges him to continue to listen to her and hear what she says next, “But you must know that even for all the love I once had for him, I don’t know if he can be saved now. I don’t know if the man I knew still exists. You say you can sense good within him. I want nothing more than for that to be true. But I don’t know, Luke. I just don’t know.”
Luke is quiet for a long time. 
(Y/N) bows her head. She knows she is correct in her beliefs and doubts, but still can’t help but feel as though she’s betraying her friend. Abandoning him. Discarding him as others had, dismissing him as a lost cause. Again, she asks herself, how far had they all fallen?

“Thank you,” Luke finally says, “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

She smiles softly, “You’re welcome.”

He finally releases her hand and sits up straight.

“Now,” (Y/N) says, also leaning back in her chair, “Endor.”

He sputters, “What?” either thrown by the sudden change in topic or the choice in topic itself. Perhaps both.

“I’m still waiting for some sort of concession from you,” she teases. His silence on Sulon had not gone unnoticed. She rests her hand on her chest dramatically, “I have my pride, Luke.”

She thinks he shakes his head as he tells her, “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps,” (Y/N) concedes easily, moving on with just as much ease, “Regardless, I’m coming.”

Luke huffs, “It’s so strange to talk to you sometimes.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes you speak like you’re from another galaxy,” he offers.

“Well…” she trails off pointedly given the fact that he isn’t exactly wrong. Luke huffs another laugh. She continues, waving a reprimanding finger at him, “And stop distracting me. We’re talking about Endor.”

Luke sighs, “Why do you want to go so bad?”

“It’s what I do, Luke. I’m a Jedi, I help people. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Defeating the Empire will help an entire galaxy’s worth of people. It’s basic math.”

“Do you miss them?”

She blinks at him, thrown by the unexpected question, “Who?”

“My father. Ben. You just...I don’t know.”

“Of course I miss them!” (Y/N) replies, “I miss them with every fiber of my being, I feel their absence with every breath I take. I miss the countless Jedi I could sense in the Force and the men I fought with and the Republic I served,” she shakes her head, pushing aside her grief. She sighs deeply and then continues more calmly, “But these things are in the past, and so they are lost to me forever. There is nothing I can do to alter what has been carved into stone. Not even a Jedi can fold the fabric of time into itself and rewrite history. My old Master, she always told me that one cannot linger on things they cannot change. As a Jedi, and as a participant in a war, I have seen more than my share of great loss. I have seen suffering and the blood of innocents be split for no reason and good people die just for trying to help. That is not an easy thing to bear, and the weight of it all would crush me if I let it. As a Jedi, I need to focus on what I can do instead of what I did or didn’t do. I can’t dwell on the people I failed to save and I can’t dwell on what happened to the galaxy I knew. I can’t change the past, my only course is forward.”

“You sound so detached from it all,” Luke remarks. He sounds more curious than judgmental.

“Well,” she says with a bitter smile, “the Jedi taught me not to have any emotions at all.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she sighs, shaking her head, “It was, at least in my opinion, the wrong lesson. But I will admit that it’s seated in truth. An excess of anything is a problem, especially emotion. I just never agreed that a complete lack of emotion was a healthy alternative to that. The love I have for my friends flies in the face of the Order’s stance, but I always refused to give them up or hold them at an arm’s length. Don’t mistake me as apathetic, I’m far from that. Far further than I should be as a Jedi. I miss Obi-Wan, Anakin and many others dearly. And I am truly saddened by what happened to all of them, including your father.”

“What are you going to do?” Luke asks, “How do you cope with that?”

She closes her eyes briefly, internalizing what she says as she says it in hopes that it further hardens her resolve, “A Jedi is supposed to focus on the present and look only to the future. I cannot ignore the past, because those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, but I also cannot allow it to control what has not yet been decided. I want to help you. What you’re doing here, you and the Rebellion, is good. You’re fighting for democracy and to defeat the Sith. If it wasn’t clear, I’m a fan of both of these things. I want to help in this fight. I wasn’t there when the Republic fell, but I’d like to be there when the Empire that took its place does,” (Y/N) looks down at her blurry hands, “…My life ended the moment I was frozen in the carbonite. Or, at least the life I thought I was meant to live. There were certain beats I expected to experience: becoming a Jedi Master, ending the war, returning to the ways of the Jedi, taking a Padawan or two. And there were people I expected to live that out with. Clearly, that is not my destiny,” her gaze lifts to him again, “I think this is. I was frozen for twenty-three years, Luke. At any time, someone could have freed me or I could have been destroyed in an explosion or tossed away with the trash. Instead, I was kept in a perfectly safe stasis until you could find and free me. I have to believe the Force did all of this for a reason. I have to believe I lost everything for a reason. The Force needed me to be here for a reason. I believe it was so I could help you. I want to do that. I’m trying to do that.”

Luke is quiet. She curses her destroyed vision for depriving her of the ability to see his face as he processes what she has said. She would wager Luke has an expressive face, emotions and thoughts plain to be seen by all. She wishes she could see the ones she inspires to color his features.

“(Y/N),” he finally says, “you don’t know what it was like unfreezing you from the carbonite. You…you looked dead. It took a while for you to even start breathing. And even after you woke up, you were so weak. I was worried that I had freed you only to watch you die. Every breath you took looked like it took all of your energy to do so and sounded like it would be your last. I’m not trying to keep you from the fight, I think it’s admirable that you’re ready to throw yourself back into the fray to help our cause. I just don’t ever want to see you like that again. You seem to have recovered, but what if you’re just...”

“Pink clouding?” she suggests.

“Yes! What if we get to Endor and you overwork yourself and get sick again?” Luke sounds devastated at just the idea of her possibly feeling unwell in the future. His kindness and empathy come in spades. (Y/N) feels a sad smile pull at her lips, for what a person for his parents to have missed out on knowing. He continues, “What if you get injured? That’s why I’m reluctant to have you go, (Y/N). I didn’t doubt your abilities half as much as you must think I did, I just don’t want to see you hurting again.”
She offers him a kind smile, “I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I feel fine. Aside from my vision, I feel like I did before I was frozen. I don’t doubt that my strength will remain as it is. And if, by some chance, I do start to feel unwell, I’ll say something. I haven’t forgotten how horrible I felt fresh out of the carbonite, you can believe me when I say I never want to feel that way again.”
His silence is shorter this time. “You’ll speak up?” he asks, though it’s not so much a question as a request for her promise.

She offers him just that, “Yes. I promise.” It’s a perfectly understandable request, and so one she has no problem agreeing to. Never mind that she’ll never have to follow through with it seeing as she feels fine and will continue to feel fine.

Luke stands, “Alright. That’s all I can ask. Come with me. We need to get you some camo, we’ll be leaving for Endor soon.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) squints at the side of Luke’s face as they walk through yet another white hall. It soon turns to look back at her, “What?”“I’m trying to see if I can make out any part of your face,” she informs him, “You’re the first person I’ve met that I don’t have a face to put to. It’s strange.”“What can you see?” Luke asks. “Dark hair.”“And?”“That’s it.”He huffs a laugh, looking away. (Y/N) immediately asks, having possibly caught a glimpse of something in that movement, “Do you have blue eyes?”His head turns back to her again and she sees another flash of the color which confirms what he then verbally confirms, “Yes.”She nods, pleased to have that little nugget of information since her efforts at catching a glimpse of his face hadn’t borne fruit. He takes after Anakin in that sense, not Padmé and her fathomless brown eyes. She remarks absently, “Much nicer than my ugly white.”“I don’t think they’re ugly.”She rolls said white eyes, chiding lightly, “Don’t lie.”“I’m not,” Luke protests, “They’re definitely a bit strange, I don’t normally see white eyes, but I don’t think they’re ugly. I think they look like moons.”(Y/N) blinks at him in surprise. Her head then dips down to hide her smile as she quietly says, “Thank you.” Perhaps there’s a strange sort of beauty to be found in her sightless eyes, one she hadn’t seen on her own as she had been too busy lamenting what was lost as opposed to thinking about what had taken its place. Perhaps there’s a larger lesson to be found in there somewhere. “General (L/N)?”(Y/N)'s posture straightens, shoulders tightening, and she releases Luke’s arm to turn towards the voice. She asks with an instinctive air of authority, that sweet spot between calm stoicism and stern expectation, “Yes?”She then frowns to herself as the situation catches up with her. Who would call her that here?“Who here would call you that?” Luke asks as he turns as well, unknowingly echoing her thoughts. “I have no idea,” she answers quietly, “I can’t see them.”(Y/N) reaches out with the Force to try and locate the person who just addressed her like it’s twenty-three years ago. “General (L/N), I can’t believe it.”Her frown deepens and Luke says casually, “Oh. Hi, Rex.”(Y/N)’s eyebrows shoot up and everything starts to click. The voice, the familiar signature, “Rex?”“I know the years haven’t been all that kind to me, sir,” and the lightly playful tone confirms his identity better than the Force ever could, “but don’t you recognize me even a little?”She smiles at the silhouette colored with muddy greens that mirror her own camouflage, lifting her hand to point at her eyes, “I’m blind, Rex.”“What?” Rex comes closer, “How?”“The carbonite damaged my eyes. My vision is almost entirely gone.”“The carbonite? But when I...When did you get out?”“A few days ago,” (Y/N) glances at Luke, “Luke was actually the one to find me.”“A-a few days ago?! You’ve been slabbed for the past twenty years?”“Twenty-three, actually. But who’s keeping track?”“Well, that would explain why you haven’t aged a day,” Rex remarks. “Yes,” (Y/N) laughs, “I have to hand it to carbonite, it’s one hell of a skincare routine.”Luke chokes next to her while Rex laughs. It’s older and maybe a bit sadder than she remembers it. But it’s still Rex. His laughter was always warm, and all the more precious for how seldom it was heard. “And I was going to say,” she continues, “I can’t see you, but you certainly sound old.”“Hey, accelerated growth, remember?”“I do, Rex. You have to remember that the war was less than a week ago for me.”“I take it that you know Rex?” Luke asks. “Yes,” (Y/N) looks at him, “We fought together. He’s a great soldier, I always felt confident going into battle when he was at my side.”“Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming to Endor with us, then.”“You are?” (Y/N) asks excitedly, directing her grin to her old friend. “Of course,” Rex replies proudly, “I’m always ready to stick it to the Empire. I’m more surprised that you’re coming...”“Come now, Rex,” she scolds playfully, “you didn’t really think I’d just sit this one out?”He laughs, “You haven’t changed a bit, sir. You’ve even got your braids, I see.”(Y/N) touches one of her braids with a fond smile, thinking about how her younger self had thought it was even remotely subtle to walk around with twin braids on either side of her head. She pats her chest, “I’ve still got my robes on under this poncho thing too.”“(Y/N),” Luke redraws her attention. She looks at him expectantly and can see from the dark color of his hair that he’s looking away from her towards something else, “we need to get on the shuttle, it’s time to go.”“Okay.”“If you want to,” he continues, “you could sit with Rex. The cockpit might be a bit cramped.”“That’s a good idea,” (Y/N) smiles and nods even though he isn’t looking, “I’d love to catch up.”She wraps her hand around Luke’s arm, squeezing lightly as a gentle prompt to let him know she’s ready to resume their walk to the shuttle. Luke’s head turns in a blur of color and a flash of blue. She thinks she sees the white of teeth revealed by a smile. He leads her towards a towering grey silhouette which can only be the shuttle they’ll be taking to Endor. “There’s a ramp,” Luke advises and (Y/N) nods, making a slight adjustment in her next step. They ascend, entering the dark interior of the ship. It’s poorly lit and what remains of (Y/N)’s sight is lost in the too few lightbulbs and too many shadows. She releases Luke and turns expectantly to Rex, “Where are we sitting?”Luke touches her arm briefly and then wanders away as a large hand comes to rest lightly on her back between her shoulder blades, “This way, General.”(Y/N) lets Rex guide her to a seat without protest. She can’t exactly maneuver the unfamiliar layout of an unfamiliar ship on her own when she can’t see even an inch in front of her nose. “I still can’t believe you were frozen for all this time,” Rex says as he settles down beside her. “Me neither,” she confesses, “but this is such a different galaxy from the one I lived in. I don’t have the authority to say what can and cannot be.”Rex laughs softly, “I know what you mean. I actually lived through the changes, and I still have trouble accepting that this is the new reality.”“What happened, Rex?” (Y/N) asks quietly, “How did we get to this point? I spoke with Senator Mothma yesterday, but not even she knows all that occurred.”“I don’t know much either,” he says, “I think anyone who does know everything is either dead or not about to sit down and explain it to the likes of us.”“Tell me what you do know, please. Your brothers...they turned on the Jedi.” (Y/N) says this gently, hoping Rex can tell that she isn’t trying to accuse him of anything. But it doesn’t make sense. How many times could her men have killed her? Either by directly causing her death or by not acting and letting her die as a result of their lack of response. (Y/N) had trusted her troops explicitly, forging a bond of trust and respect by fighting together and saving each other. She had turned away from them all the time, leaving herself exposed to attack. On more than one occasion, though not nearly as many as Obi-Wan or Anakin, she had accidentally dropped her lightsaber and found it in the possession of one of the clones. All these opportunities had been presented for them to kill her in one way or another. And yet they hadn’t. Why not take advantage of those opportunities? Why wait? The war could have been much shorter if the clones had acted right away, instead of playing the long game for three solid years. “It wasn’t their choice,” he tells her. His words are firm, but not defensive. “How do you mean?”“Inhibitor chips,” (Y/N) thinks Rex’s hand moves near his head, “in our heads. Palpatine said the magic word and it was like a switch was flipped. I forgot everything about who I was-”(Y/N) blinks, shocked by this. If what he is saying is true, this conversation shouldn’t be happening right now, “You?”“Yes,” he confirms, “I tried to kill Ahsoka, but...she wasn’t Ahsoka. At least, that’s how it felt. I couldn’t remember that it was her or what we had been through together. She was just an enemy, like a clanker but worse. She had betrayed the Republic and needed to die for her sins. I…I hated her.”“Is she…?” (Y/N) can’t even say it. “No,” Rex is quick to assure her, “She’s alive.”(Y/N)’s hand clutches her chest, breathing out a huge sigh of relief. Knowing that the young girl-no. Not a girl. She’s a woman now, with montrails and head-tails like Shaak. Knowing that the young girl had been able to grow into a woman, instead of perishing with all of the others, warms (Y/N)’s heart in a way she thought would have been forever lost to her after learning of the fall of the Republic. “Do you remember Fives?” Rex asks. “Of course I do.” Such an ordeal was rather hard to forget. “I was able to warn Ahsoka as it was happening because of him. She removed the chip and it brought me back. But everyone else...we couldn’t. The ship was going down and they were trying to kill us. They were ready to die in the crash if it meant we died as well. We didn’t have time. Everyone else died.”“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) says quietly as she reaches over for his hand. The Force guides her and she squeezes it as soon as it’s within her grasp. “No one else knew about the chips, so all of my brothers followed orders,” Rex continues, “That’s how the Jedi died, their troops turned on them. And the men on Coruscant stormed the Temple with-”(Y/N)’s head bows, eyes closing briefly. She knew all of this already, but that makes it no less of a tragedy or easier for her to hear a second time. She eventually asks, again making sure not to appear as if she’s accusing him of anything untoward, “You haven’t told Luke?”“No. I didn’t even know he existed until he blew up the Death Star. And even then...just because his last name is ‘Skywalker’ doesn’t mean he’s necessarily Anakin’s kid. Especially because I thought that sort of thing was forbidden. I guess that never stopped Anakin before, huh? But after I actually met Luke, I knew. He,” Rex laughs softly, “he looks so much like Anakin.”“Does he?” (Y/N) asks quietly. She had wondered, especially with the similar blue eyes, but hadn’t assumed anything. She wonders who Leia takes after. “Yes. Same blue eyes and smile. But I didn’t know how much he knew, so I didn’t want to say anything. I’ve tried to keep an eye on him the best I could. I...I wasn’t able to protect his father. So-”“No,” (Y/N) cuts him off immediately, shaking her head, “don’t do that to yourself, Rex. You were a good soldier, one of the best, and a good friend. Whatever brought Anakin to the point that he fell, it’s beyond you.”“How do you know that?” Rex’s broken voice threatens to destroy her. “Because I know Anakin,” she squeezes his hand, “And I know you.” *** “He’s here,” (Y/N) speaks suddenly, interrupting Rex’s story.“What? Who?”Her head turns in the direction of Anakin’s signature, recognizing it instantly despite it being twisted and tainted by the dark side, “Anakin.”It doesn’t seem like he’s noticed her yet. (Y/N) knows Anakin must be solely focused on Luke right now, whose signature practically screams its presence for all to hear in comparison to hers. (Y/N) sits there silently, watching a standoff that no one else can see. Anakin knows Luke is here, so he knows this shuttle is filled with rebels. Han’s going to be offering a security code to gain access to the moon,  and it’s not hard to guess why they want said access. She touches her lightsaber to assure herself that it’s there. But there’s no sudden jolting of the shuttle as it’s caught in a tractor beam. Han isn’t shouting back for them to ‘hold onto something’ as he prepares to outfly any sort of attack. And Luke isn’t panicking, at least not too much. She can sense worry from him, as he’s probably sensed his father and realized his father has done the same for him in return. But there’s no sharp flair of fear that would come with the Empire doing something to show they know the shuttle has been commandeered. (Y/N) doesn’t want to shock Luke by speaking to him through the Force, so she can’t just ask him to clarify what’s happening right now. She can only sense his emotions change to confusion and has to assume that they’ve been given clearance to land on Endor despite Anakin knowing the truth. Speaking of Anakin, (Y/N) can feel the very moment he registers her presence because of the shock that suddenly radiates from him.
(Y/N)?
She shivers, not at all liking the slimy feel of a Sith Lord speaking to her through the Force. Anakin, she greets coolly, It’s been a while. 
…How are you here?
Your son found me a few days ago and freed me from the carbonite, she supplies quickly and then asks, How did this happen, Anakin? How?Where were you? Anakin asks, not at all answering her question. She honestly isn’t sure if the avoidance had been deliberate or if he was just as dumbfounded by the length of her time being frozen as everyone else had been and could focus on nothing else. I looked for you.Her gut churns at that, and she can’t help but say, You looked for me? And I should take comfort in that? Tell me, Anakin, what would have become of me when I was unfrozen and thrown at Palpatine’s feet? When I rejected his offer, if one had even been made, what would have happened? Would you have stood by as I was killed, shot like a dog in the street? Would you have served as executioner yourself? You cannot honestly think I would have wanted to be found by you as you are. Or that I would have been swayed to your side of things. I welcome an eternity of carbonite with open arms if that is the alternative.You do not understand, he tells her, The Jedi turned against the Republic. I-
I don’t believe that for a second. Palpatine is a Sith Lord. He warped you into this, manipulated you somehow.

My Master only showed me the truth of the galaxy. 
Your Master?! she says in disbelief, horrified to hear him refer to Palpatine by such a title, Your Master was Obi-Wan. 
Obi-Wan was a traitor. He tried to kill me.

I don’t believe you.

You weren’t even there, (Y/N). You have no idea what I went though, what I’ve lost. 
Padmé. She pulls the name from Anakin’s jagged thoughts that cut at her metaphysical hands like broken glass. She can feel the sorrow radiating from Anakin at her name. You lost Padmé...somehow.
Obi-Wan turned her against me.

Anakin...what happened? How did you become so lost as to believe Obi-Wan and Padmé would ever turn against you? You turned against them by falling to the dark side. You and Palpatine killed the Jedi, our friends, and plunged the galaxy you once swore to protect into darkness. 
You’re wrong, Anakin tells her, I was lost before, but now I understand.Her eyes narrow. Could that be doubt she’s sensing? Could she actually be getting through to him? She has to keep trying. She has to get through that thick skull of his and make him see reason. You don’t sound so sure...It’s because of Luke, isn’t it? His very existence weakens the story Palpatine fed you. He makes you doubt your ‘Master’. His tone is as dark as night as he says, You know nothing, and (Y/N) feels him reach out with the Force to wrap a phantom hand around her neck. Her jaw clenches in irritation and with the absent flick of her wrist, as if she was brushing something off of her pant leg, (Y/N) dispels the grip. She feels Anakin’s immediate guilt and remorse over his brash action. I know plenty, she says calmly, still trying despite what he had just done, You love him. You love your son and it makes you conflicted because Palpatine tried to rip that out of you. He made you hate Obi-Wan, who was like a brother to you. He made you think Padmé, your wife, had betrayed you. If I had been around at the time, he would have turned you against me as well. He took everything from you in order to make you into Darth Vader. But your son, physical proof of your and Padmé’s love, lives on. As does your true self, Anakin Skywalker. You’re wrong, he tells her again, It’s you that’s trying to manipulate me, just like the other Jedi did. Oh, please, she scoffs, The Jedi are not the manipulators here. 
You weren’t there! If you had seen what I had-
You saw only what you wanted to see. Or what Palpatine wanted you to see. You’re as blind as the rest of them. Even more so, actually, seeing as they were at least smart enough to resist the call of the dark side, she continues ruefully, How blind you’ve become, Anakin, to think this is the way things should be. 
My Master-
(Y/N) wants to scream, helpless to stop how she runs from hot to cold to hot again. She cuts him off sharply, If your Master orders you to turn on your friends and kill children, then your Master is evil. Talk yourself in circles all you want, Anakin, I don’t care. Those are the facts of the matter. You betrayed everyone. Everyone! For what?It was the Jedi that betrayed me, he insists, You weren’t there, (Y/N), you don’t know what it was like. I was gone for a few days! (Y/N) can’t help but exclaim in utter disbelief, There’s no way things deteriorated that quickly!You know that’s not how things were. I heard part of your conversation with Obi-Wan, Anakin appeals to her, You knew the truth before even I. You saw what I came to see, you know things were wrong long before-Don’t you dare, she says tightly, heart shattering as it finally fully dawns on her, Don’t you dare do this to me. Is it not bad enough that you’ve fallen? Now you’re trying to take me down with you? She feels her faith leave her. Had that not been what Maul did? Coming into Obi-Wan’s life again and again, driven by spite and hate and anger, and trying to make Obi-Wan that way too. Slaughtering innocents in his name. Attacking Mandalore just so he could murder Satine in front of him. Returning to Mandalore again to tempt Obi-Wan to return as well so he could try once more. Had Dooku not done that during that damnable conversation with Obi-Wan on Geonosis? Had he not tried to sway Obi-Wan to his side, convince him to join him and work together? Even if the man had been correct about Sidious, he had still been using a darker shade of the Force and proudly had worn a red bladed saber on his hip. Palpatine had, successfully, done that to Anakin by whispering poison in his ear about betrayal and who knows what else. It is not enough for you, she says, unable to keep her devastation from her voice, You can’t just be down there in your own ruin. No, you have to reach up and sink your claws into me and try to drag me down to your level. And you’re doing the same damn thing to Luke as well. You looked at that sweet young man who just wants a father who loves him and instead of cherishing that and trying to salvage any sort of relationship between the two of you, or even attempting to save yourself by rising to meet him, you decided to try and drag him down into the gutter.Any shadow of a doubt that she could have, that this was just a misunderstanding or something that snowballed out of control or that everyone else had just been mistaken or…something, anything, has been extinguished. Anakin truly has fallen. He chose this. He chose this path and continues to choose it. He’s a Sith Lord, a wielder of the dark side, full fledged and unapologetically so. He’s lost. The man she knew is gone. So this is what you think of me, he says coldly. (Y/N) blinks rapidly to chase away the tears before they can truly develop. Again she finds herself asking, how far have they all fallen? This man had once been one of her closest friends, someone she would have died for, someone she never would have spoken to in the manner she just had. The fight leaves her as suddenly as it had come and she tells him quietly, I thought the world of you, Anakin. Obi-Wan thought the world of you. If you had just been open with us, if you had come to Obi-Wan when you were wavering. Padmé-I did this, all of this, for Padmé, the fight has seemed to have left him as well, as now he only sounds tired. Weary. Broken. Defeated. I did it to save her. Her eyes close as she asks, And where is she now? Where is Padmé?
You-
She’s dead, (Y/N) cuts him off, She’s dead, along with everyone else. Look at what has become of us. Look at what he turned you into. You must see that this is wrong. Please, Anakin. Anakin is quiet for a beat. He then says, You’re mistaken. 
Anakin-
Anakin is dead. His tone is hard again. Whatever that brief lapse had been, it’s already passed. Perhaps (Y/N) had reached him for a moment, but he had slipped away again as easily as smoke between her fingers. Her heart shatters once again. (Y/N)’s head bows. Her mind tells her to leave him, to abandon him, to write him off as a lost cause. But she can’t. Anakin is too intimately woven into the pieces of her broken heart for (Y/N) to ever have it in her to do so. She makes one last attempt, knowing her words fall on deaf ears but not caring, No, he isn’t. He lives on in Luke. He lives on deep within you. Search your feelings and remember who you are, Anakin Skywalker, instead of what Palpatine tried to make you into. (Y/N) cuts off the connection before Anakin can reply.Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Sensing Anakin’s presence has confirmed the Rebellion’s intelligence to be true. Palpatine is aboard the Death Star. (Y/N)‘s head turns slightly, as if cocking her head to better catch an errant whisper not intended for her ear. Keeping a healthy distance so as not to draw attention to herself, she reaches out into the Force. There, easily found, she can sense the man himself. Not that he is trying to hide his presence. No, those days are long gone. With no opposition that he perceives as any true threat, Palpatine unapologetically allows his presence to flow into the Force for all those nearby to detect. (Y/N) maintains a careful lid on her own presence in the Force, happy to avoid detection if she can manage it. Anakin is too familiar with her presence to have not caught wind of it even in a muted state. But she and Palpatine had never worked closely together before things went to hell, and she doubts she was of much significance to his plans beyond being another obstacle to overcome in his pursuit of Anakin, so it’s likely he won’t realize she’s here unless either Anakin tells him or she broadcasts it. The former is unlikely, but not impossible. The latter will inevitably occur tomorrow in the coming fight. But there’s no need to call things to his attention before then. She exhales, willing her darker emotions to slide off her back like water from a pelikki’s. They will serve as only a hindrance and a tool to be used against her. Best to leave them aboard this shuttle, even if the sentiments behind them remain in her mind. Her goal is clear. As nice as being on Endor’s surface will be, she is not long for it. Oh, no. Not while the subject for all of her ire is within spitting distance. Not while the person responsible for all of her loss and grief is just a short flight away. (Y/N) had meant it when she told Han that she intended on seeing this fight to its end. No doubt Luke will be going to confront his father given their conversation before leaving the fleet, and Palpatine by extension. (Y/N) will simply tag along for the journey. She isn’t sure if there is anything more to be said to Anakin, but she has some choice words for Palpatine. Oh, boy, does she. And then she’s going to turn him into a Sith-kabob by way of introducing him to the business end of her lightsaber. A fitting ending.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) walks out of the shuttle slowly. She looks out at the forest, which is a gorgeous landscape of greens and browns that even her fractured vision cannot ruin. Her feet leave the metal ramp and the ground crunches softly under her boots. She takes a few steps and carefully rests her hand on a tree trunk, as if she might scare it away if she was too rough. A soft breeze kisses her skin and the sun shines through the trees to light up her small smile. She inhales deeply, taking in the smells of the forest and the fresh air that is a nice change from the scentless, recycled air of spaceships.

“Hey,” Luke asks from behind her, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” she turns to face him, “Yes, sorry. Are we ready to move?”

“Yeah.”

She gestures vaguely, “Lead the way.”

Luke takes her to the right to where a procession of the strike team is making their way down the hill they had landed on. She walks behind him through the large trees, feeling the endless life that surrounds her. The ground is uneven and not the easiest to traverse given she can’t spot the various tripping hazards like roots, fallen branches or rocks. But she does the best she can, and thankfully no one comments when she stumbles. (Y/N)’s confident she’ll get better at maneuvering the terrain the longer she’s here. She glances at the back of Luke’s head as she opens her mouth to ask how far they are from the shield generator, when he suddenly turns to grab her arm, pulling it lightly. (Y/N) crouches down immediately, trusting Luke to see what she can’t.

“Stay low and come with me,” he whispers.

They follow Han and Leia a little further down the hill. Chewie brings up the rear behind them, and she can both hear and sense how the others have stayed back. (Y/N)’s fingers soon come to rest against the rough bark of the fallen log they’re using as cover and she reaches out with the Force. She can sense people down at the bottom of the small hill.

“Should we try and go around?” Leia proposes.

“It’ll take time,” Luke says.

“This whole party will be for nothing if they see us,” Han remarks.

Chewie roars softly.

“Chewie and I will take care of this “ Han says, “You stay here.”

“Quietly,” Luke warns, “there might be more of them out there.”

“Hey,” Han replies confidently, “it’s me.”

Han and Chewie slowly creep away from the fallen log and (Y/N) breathes out through her nose once they’re out of hearing range, “Why am I not assured by that?”

Luke huffs a laugh beside her.

(Y/N) reaches out with the Force again and her eyebrows raise when she senses other people besides the two that Han and Chewie are approaching. Is anyone else aware of that? She turns to Luke, “Hey-”

There’s a loud cracking sound, possibly a branch snapping underfoot but she isn’t entirely sure, that shatters the silence and then a blaster fires.

“Go for help! Go!” Well, that’s certainly not Han’s voice.

(Y/N) stands up from her crouched position while Luke mutters, also standing, “Great. Come on!”

“There’s more of them to the right,” (Y/N) tells him and Leia, “I’ll get them.”

And before Luke can’t even get the inclination of protesting that, she’s already climbing up onto the log and using it as a springboard to leap into the air. She lands close to the bottom of the hill and throws out a hand to push one of the troopers with the Force. He stumbles back away from where she senses Han is, hopefully giving him a chance to regroup from the remnants of his botched sneak attack, and (Y/N) sprints off to the right with her lightsaber in hand. Her green blade emerges as she crashes through the forest, not too concerned about all the noise she’s currently making since Han already let the lothcat out of the bag, batting away blaster fire with ease. She can sense where the two troopers are and deflects one particular blast back at one of them. He yells in pain and she can vaguely see a white body fall to the ground. (Y/N) charges the other, easily cutting through him with her lightsaber once in range.

(Y/N) then turns, ready to make her way back to the others, but pauses because she knows that she had not run in a straight line to get here. She looks around at the green blur that surrounds her from all sides. Her lips purse. (Y/N) knows how easy it is for even a seeing person to get lost in a forest, the last thing she wants to accidentally wander off in the wrong direction. There’s a host of issues that would come with that. Rather than blindly, literally, walking in a random direction in hopes that it is the correct one, she instead reaches out with the Force to search for Luke’s signature. He’ll be a bright spot that stands out against the crowd of other living things here, making him a convenient homing beacon for her.

Expect...she can’t sense him.

(Y/N)’s shoulders tighten, spine stiffening. She calls out tentatively, “Luke?”
Her head turns, sightless eyes aimlessly searching for something in the mass of indistinguishable green. Her feet shift and (Y/N) quickly loses track of any idea of the direction she had come from. How long had she been running before reaching the troopers? How much distance could she have covered? She couldn’t have possibly gotten so far away from the group that she can no longer sense him. She tries again, “Luke?” Fuck, she’s pathetic. If he’s too far away for her to sense then he’s certainly too far away to hear her. 
Where is he? She can’t sense Leia either. What happened? Did they get killed? Had (Y/N) seriously turned her back for thirty seconds and managed to lose both of Anakin’s kids?

“Hey,” Han’s sharp voice reaches her, “there you are.”

(Y/N) turns in the direction of his voice.

“Don’t go wandering off like that,” he continues, “You’ll get lost out here really quick.”

(Y/N) points at where she can sense death, “I wasn’t wandering off, General.”

Han reaches her side, “Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

She takes hold of his offered arm, trying not to let show just how close she had been to a full blown panic. Han wouldn’t be acting like this if something bad had happened to Luke or Leia so they must be okay. And she’s not lost anymore as Han had found her and is now bringing her back to the others. No need to freak out. She almost physically shakes herself to dispel her nerves, but resists the urge. Instead she asks, “Where are Luke and Leia? I can’t sense them anymore.”

“They climbed onto a speeder and went after some scouts,” he offers with an irritated tone.

“Ah,” she nods sagely, “And you’re annoyed by that because...”

“Because now I have to sit here and wait for them to come back,” Han supplies, “I swear, it’s like they don’t think sometimes.”

“Would you prefer the scouts get away and tell everyone on the moon that we’re here?”

“Alright, get out of here with your logic,” he says gruffly.

(Y/N) laughs. Her foot then catches on yet another protruding root and she stumbles slightly, cursing.

Han’s arm flexes slightly under her hand, ready to catch more of her weight if needed or at least offer a tad more stability as she finds her footing. He asks, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she mutters, embarrassed.

“I never actually asked, what exactly is your sight like?”

She swallows her sigh and provides, “I can see colors and shapes. I see your camouflage coat and I know you have dark hair,” she peers at him, able to see the profile of his nose but not much else in terms of his face, “but it’s like there’s a thick veil over my eyes. There’s a film over everything which stops me from seeing details and there are also some areas that are completely obscured. But I can still see, and I can sense my surroundings.”

“When I woke up, everything was black,” Han offers without prompt, “I couldn’t see anything. It was like I was wearing a blindfold. When it started to come back, it was a dark blur and then a light blur.”

That’s interesting to know. Her memory of her unfreezing is hazy due to the fever, but she does recall being entirely in the dark. His comparison to a blindfold is apt, not even light itself could pierce the black that had obscured her vision had the time.

Han stops and (Y/N) releases his arm, sensing more than seeing that they’re back with the others. He leans against a tree and (Y/N) stands beside him, casually resting her hands on her hips as she asks, “Could you see through it? The blurs?”
“I don’t know. It was Tatooine after all. Luke, the fucking smartass, said there wasn’t anything to see. But I did manage to make a shot to free Lando from the Sarlacc.”
She frowns, “Sarlacc?”

“I don’t know,” Han answers dismissively, “some freak monster buried in the desert. Had a tentacle around Lando at one point so I shot it.”

“Could you see it?”

“Not at all.”

(Y/N) laughs at his chipper tone. She looks out at the forest, reaching out with the Force and trying to see if she can sense Luke or Leia yet.

Han shifts beside her and sighs impatiently.

“This is a bit unlucky,” she offers after a moment, starting to agree with Han’s disgruntlement over the other two running off.

“This is about on par with how our missions usually go,” he informs her.

Chewie barks his agreement.

(Y/N) starts to pace back and forth across the small clearing. Apparently she’s gained Anakin’s knack for not wanting to be still, fingers fidgeting by her sides with excess energy.

Anakin. Her unseeing eyes flicker upwards briefly. It had been so strange talking to the man. It had been like talking to someone she had never met, with only brief flashes of the person she had known. If not for his familiar signature and voice, though it had sounded older, (Y/N) wouldn’t have recognized him. He had sounded so angry and hateful, nothing at all like how Anakin normally was. And for such a severe change in the man to also be so sudden, because for all that she understands that a lot of time has passed it still feels like she had last spoken with him less than a week ago, it had been all the more horrifying.

(Y/N) still doesn’t have all of the information she desires. The biggest question remains unanswered: why did Anakin turn to the dark side? If (Y/N) had to compile a list of reasons that could potentially push Anakin to the point that he could fall, it would mainly consist of the deaths of the people most important to him. Padmé, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and herself.

But none of them had died.

Padmé. Dead now, yes. After childbirth, possibly from. Mon hadn’t known for certain. But she had been alive when Anakin had turned. (Y/N) knows that much because he had just told her so by claiming that Padmé had betrayed him. Not that she believes that for even a second. It’s far more likely that Anakin betrayed her by turning to the dark side and that Padmé's refusal to condemn herself alongside him had been misconstrued as betrayal.

Obi-Wan. Again, yes, he is dead now. But that had been just a few years ago in order to let Luke and others escape the Empire. So he hadn’t died and caused Anakin to fall. And Anakin had also claimed Obi-Wan had betrayed him. Which, again, (Y/N) doesn’t believe.

Ahsoka. Not dead. She’d been with a part of the 501st when the clones had been turned by Palpatine triggering the chips. So there’s no possible way she could have ‘betrayed’ Anakin, she hadn’t been anywhere near him and had literally been cooperating with the Republic when everything went to hell. And Anakin wouldn’t have the stones to dare call her leaving the Order a ‘betrayal’.

Herself. Not dead. In a sticky situation? Sure. But not dead. And he would have had every reason to believe, as they all had, that she would be recovered quickly. He would never have given up hope that her frozen body would be found, never mind giving up so quickly after her disappearance.

It just doesn’t make sense. What else could make Anakin sink to a place where Palpatine could manipulate him and convince him to betray everything and everyone?

Her gaze rises again as she suddenly recalls something. He had said something during their conversation. About how he had done everything to save Padmé. But save her from what? Was this another delusion? Something he cooked up to explain away and make excuses for his crimes? And if the threat, whatever it was, was real, how could there have not been an option available to him aside from ‘become a Sith and destroy the galaxy’? 
(Y/N) swallows her sigh. She needs to accept that the answer to that question might just be another thing forever lost to her. 
R2 beeps suddenly, pulling her from her ruminations. She blinks, having not realized she had slacked off as her thoughts had wandered. Luke is close again, and getting closer.

“Oh! General Solo,” 3PO translates, “somebody’s coming.”

Chewie grumbles quietly and (Y/N) can hear everyone scrambling around her to get into positions. She offers to Han, not bothering to try and find cover, “Don’t worry. It's just Luke.”

“Are you sure?”

She makes a face at him.

The sound of someone jogging towards them draws her unseeing gaze. She can pick out Luke with the Force and sense him approaching her, but the forest and his camouflage blur together so she can’t actually see him. What she knows for certain, is that he’s alone.

“Luke!” Han calls out happily, emerging from his hiding place, “…Where’s Leia?”

“What?” Luke asks, “She didn’t come back?”

(Y/N) frowns at him. Didn’t they go speeder-ing off together?

“I thought she was with you,” Han says sternly.

“We got separated,” Luke says, and (Y/N) can hear and feel his worry as he continues, “Hey, we better go look for her.”

“Take the squad ahead,” Han immediately orders to someone, “We’ll meet at the shield generator at oh-three hundred.”

“Come on, R2,” Luke adds, “we’ll need your scanners.”

R2 whistles as 3PO assures him, “Don’t worry, Master Luke, we know what to do!”

(Y/N) moves to follow Luke when she hears Rex’s voice suddenly close by asking quietly so as to not draw the attention of the rest of the strike team, “Will you be alright, General?”

She pauses, feeling Luke stop as well and turning to come to her side. She smiles kindly at her friend, “I’ll be fine, Rex. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t manage.”

“Alright, sir,” he says, “Just be careful.”

“Trust me, I’m ready for anything.”

“Hey,” Luke protests, “we aren’t totally helpless.”

“I know that,” she assures him, “but I also know what happens when a mission involves a Skywalker,” she clears her throat and says primly, “The Skywalker Principle says that whenever a Skywalker is involved, anything that can go wrong has double the likelihood of going wrong.”

Luke sputters wordlessly as Rex laughs.

“I’ll see you at the generator, Rex,” she says, “We’ve got a rogue Princess to find.”

“Yes, sir,” Rex replies and departs.

(Y/N) turns to face Luke, “Come on, or we’ll lose Han as well.”

They jog off in the direction Han, Chewie and the droids went.

“Is that true?” Luke asks, “About my father?”

“Oh, definitely. I could fill a book with all of the adventures I went on with him that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

Luke laughs briefly, “You’ll have to share some of them with me one day,” before falling silent as they catch up with the others.

The small group covers a considerable amount of ground, speaking as to just how speedy those speeders were, before Luke announces they’ve reached the area where he and Leia had been separated. It all looks the same to (Y/N), an endless green blur, so she takes his word for it. They continue onward in their search for any sign of life. She stays close to Luke, knowing she isn’t of much use when it comes to searching for clues as to what might have occurred. She reaches out with the Force, but can’t find Leia’s signature. There’s death between these trees, but she keeps that to herself. 
“Can you sense her?” Luke asks. 
“No. And you should be able to sense people too.”

“I can, but you know how to do it better than me,” he offers in explanation.

“And have you sensed anyone recently?” (Y/N) asks conversationally, already knowing the answer. She’s able to see enough to see how Luke’s head turns sharply. She offers only a kind smile before looking away, assuring him, “We can discuss it later. We have to find Leia first.”

(Y/N) steps over a raised root, smiling softly at her small triumph.

“Look,” Luke suddenly says from a few feet away from her.

“I can’t,” she answers, turning to face him anyway. She can just barely see how he has bent down to the forest floor. “What is it? Did you find something?”
“Yes,” he says somberly, “It’s Leia’s helmet.”
(Y/N) walks over to him, lifting her hand to touch the edge of the helmet. She swallows her sigh, “Is there anything else? Anything that says she...”

“I don’t see anything beyond some wrecked speeders.”

She inhales through her nose and observes, “Smells like an explosion.”

She looks around at the forest, trying to sense anything that might give them a clue. (Y/N) was at war for three years, she knows the signs of death. Unfortunately she can’t see anymore to spot what Luke might have missed. And there’s nothing here that the Force is calling her to.

Maybe the latter is a good thing.

“Luke! (Y/N)!”

(Y/N)’s head turns towards Han’s voice and she easily allows Luke to take her hand and guide her through the trees to the other man. They reach Han quickly, having stayed close in their own explorations. Nothing like having to go searching for the search party.

“Oh, Master Luke,” 3PO greets sadly. 
She can see the grey of metal on the ground by Han’s feet and kneels down to touch it. The metal has become warped and broken and her fingers come away feeling gritty from the burnt, flaking pieces breaking off. Another speeder bike, damaged by an explosion just like the others. 
Chewie growls softly.

“There’s two more wrecked speeders back there,” Luke supplies, “And I found this,” probably referring to the helmet.

“I’m afraid that R2’s sensors can find no trace of Princess Leia,” 3PO adds.

“I hope she’s alright,” Han says, tone betraying just how worried he is.

“We should keep searching,” (Y/N) speaks up as she straightens, wiping her hand on her poncho to clear away the debris particles, “With the speeders all destroyed, Leia can’t have gotten far. She’s probably just out of R2’s range.”

Chewie roars and lumbers away.

“What, Chewie?” Han asks.

He just keeps walking, howling over his shoulder.

“What’s happening?” (Y/N) asks quietly.

“I have no idea,” Luke replies just as quietly.

“What, Chewie?” Han demands. She can hear the ground crunching under his boots as he follows the Wookiee.

Chewie howls once more, fainter this time as he ventures further away.

(Y/N) quickly takes Luke’s arm and they follow Han. She grimaces when the feeling of death hits her once more, nose wrinkling as she asks, “What the hell?”

“What?” Luke asks.

“Hey, I don’t get it,” Han says ahead of them.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asks absently, looking off to the side at the green trees. The Force had been silent in their search efforts so far, but now it’s finally calling for her attention. Rather insistently, in fact, like how an impatient child would tug at their parent’s sleeve while demanding sweets. Her brow furrows. What’s over there?

Han makes a dismissive noise, “It’s just a dead animal, Chewie.”

“If it’s dead, why isn’t it on the ground?” (Y/N) ponders, sensing enough to know the animal carcass is at about eye-level.

“Chewie, wait!” Luke suddenly pulls away from her to lunge at Chewie, “Don’t!”

There’s a loud snapping sound and then everyone is shouting. 
“Woah!” (Y/N) exclaims as she takes a step back and her arms fling out aimlessly. She blinks rapidly, trying to figure out what just happened. Her vision is nothing but green now. The silhouettes and colors of the others are gone. But they didn’t just vanish into thin air. Well. Speaking of air. She slowly lifts her head, looking up at where she can now sense them, “Did all of you suddenly learn to fly...at the same time?”
“We’re caught in some kind of trap,” Luke calls down.

“Nice work,” Han snaps as Chewie howls, “Great, Chewie. Great. Always thinking with your stomach.”

(Y/N) squints at the tree canopy above her, thinking she might spot some of the gold of 3PO’s limbs.

“Will you take it easy? Let’s just figure a way out of this thing. Han, can you reach my lightsaber?”

“Yeah,” Han says harshly, “Sure!”

(Y/N) frowns, feeling her gaze being drawn away again by something again. What is the Force trying to tell her?

“(Y/N),” Luke continues, probably hearing from Han’s tone that the retrieval of his saber isn’t a guarantee, “see if you can’t find something. This was a trap, there’s got to be a pulley system or something.”

She looks up at him in disbelief and clarifies, “You want the blind woman to look for the system that set up a hidden trap?”

Luke only offers a frustrated groan as a response.

(Y/N) shrugs and starts to walk away, thinking she can at least give it the old college try and check the nearby trees, but immediately freezes. She can sense the presence of several beings close by, surrounding her as well as the trap that holds the others prisoner. 3PO is saying something up above her head about a bad idea and then there’s a loud sound not unlike the one that served as precursor to the trap being tripped. Everyone is suddenly shouting again and she quickly takes a step to the left and watches as blacks, browns, blue and white, and gold come tumbling back down.

“Are you alright?” (Y/N) asks after a moment, eyes narrowing as she looks around, “I need your eyes, we aren’t alone.”

“I see that,” Luke answers calmly and low under his breath.

(Y/N) shuffles a bit closer to him, feeling the others closing ranks around them. There’s a strange chattering from them, some simple dialectic that she doesn’t even vaguely recognize. Luke and Han don’t feel worried. If anything, they seemed amused by the situation. 
 
***
 
(Y/N) is about as far from amused as one can physically be.

Those creatures that neither Luke or Han had been too concerned about, as it turns out, have a rather vicious streak. After an admittedly comical instance of mistaken identity concerning 3PO, the furry bastards had proceeded to tie all of them to poles of wood like pieces of choice meat. 
Prizes secure, the creatures had then lugged them back to their village. It was at that point that (Y/N)’s unspoken analogy of being trussed up like meat was revealed to be all too accurate as apparently Han, and the rest of them at some point she imagines, are to be roasted and eaten. 
The details, if disclosed, had gotten fuzzy at that point. Because the buzzing in (Y/N)’s ears had reached a point where she couldn’t really hear anything else. She’d been having lapses, losing track of time, ever since she was tied to this damn pole, but now it’s getting really bad. She can’t focus. Her heart is lodged in her throat. Her wrists and ankles are bound, she can’t move. She can’t move. (Y/N)’s trapped in a horrible limbo of trying to keep an eye on Luke to remind herself of where she isn’t and screwing her eyes shut to try and block out where she is.

She has to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

Fear permeates the air. Is that her fear? Is she projecting it so strongly that it’s reflected onto back to her like an echo?

Fuck, she can’t concentrate on anything like this. Her lungs ache. When did she last take a breath? Her fingernails dig into the flesh of her palms.

Something brushes against her wrists and she flinches so harshly she almost pulls muscle. She can feel a touch by her ankles as well. Tightening restraints? Stopping her from fidgeting? Don’t want her messing up the procedure, isn’t that what Sirbuh had said?
No. She squeezes her eyes shut as she presses her face against her arm. No, it’s not then. She’s not in that facility. 
(Y/N) feels the ropes fall away and her eyes open again. She sucks in a deep, shaky breath. She stumbles away from the small creatures that chatter amicably at her, she isn’t in the mood to befriend them right now regardless of their sudden change of heart. She knows from the jostling during the journey, as well as how far away the earth feels, that she’s currently up in the air amongst the trees. The sound of her boots hitting the floor beneath her says it’s wooden and sturdy, but that doesn’t do much to reassure her. It’s getting dark and so what remains of her vision will soon be gone and (Y/N) could very easily unintentionally walk off of this platform and fall to her death, not knowing what had occurred until it was too late.

“(Y/N)?”

The world sharpens as much as it can with her damaged vision, the hazy fog she had been in suddenly broken by Luke’s voice. She jumps violently, spitting, “Fuck!”

“Woah! Sorry, I-are you alright?”

(Y/N)’s unseeing eyes dart around.

“(Y/N),” a warm hand takes hers, “your hands are shaking.”

She looks down at her blurry hands, not able to see the shaking. She almost groans in frustration at that. But her mind finally gets back online and (Y/N) can feel the shaking that should really be called ‘vibrating’ because it’s so bad.

“Fuck,” she whispers, “fuck. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Luke quickly moves closer and (Y/N) lets him do whatever he wants. There’s an arm around her and she can hear the clunking sounds of them walking. The noise of the others fades a bit. 
“What happened?” Luke asks, “Did you overwork yourself?”
“No,” (Y/N) answers, free hand bumping wood and grabbing hold to try and anchor herself to reality, “I just...”

A breeze blows across her face as she stares at the forest.

She finishes quietly, “I just didn’t like being trapped like that.”

“Hey,” he says, arm still around her, “Hey. It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“I know. I know we are. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” That’s a lie. It’s a complete and total lie. It’s not even remotely hard to figure out why (Y/N) has an issue with being immobilized.

“You’re allowed to be human,” Luke tells her, calling her out on her lie without even a hint of malice.

“All I ever seem to do since being unfrozen is be human,” (Y/N) says gruffly, heart finally slowing to a regular pace, “I’m sick of it.”

“Can you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

“I’m blind, not deaf.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment, as if he’s afraid to even breathe too loudly.

(Y/N) snorts at her own dumb joke and Luke finally lets himself laugh.

“You’re Anakin’s kid,” she says, pointing a stern finger at him, “you need to have inherited at least some of his sense of humor.”

“Sorry. I have a lot on my mind right now,” Luke offers.

“I know,” (Y/N) says, pushing herself away from the piece of wood she had been leaning on. She turns away from the forest to look at him, “What are you going to do?”

“About what?”

She quirks an eyebrow at him.

He sighs, “Alright. Are you sure you can’t see me?”

“Yes, and stop trying to distract me.”

“That wasn’t what I trying to do,” he sighs again, “I know my father is here and that he knows I’m here. For the sake of the mission, I have to leave.”

She has no intention of arguing with him on this. It’s Luke’s decision and she will need to respect it regardless of what he chooses. But she must ask, “And for the sake of yourself?”

“I think I can save him,” Luke tells her, “I think I can reach the part of Anakin Skywalker that remains and bring him back into the light.”

(Y/N) nods silently.

“Are you agreeing with me or just accepting that’s my decision?”

“I thought you didn’t want my opinion,” she says lightly.

Luke exhales through his nose and (Y/N) can so very easily picture the expression on his face.

She eventually says, “If I’m to be honest, more than I probably should be-”

“Please.”

“It’s both. I told you before that Anakin loved unapologetically, which is true. But he also loved tragically. He lost many people that he loved,” (Y/N) looks down, “in one sense of another. I don’t know if Anakin can be saved. However, I think the love of and for his son would be the thing that brings him back. If there was anything that could awaken him from the nightmare, I would think it to be love. But, Luke,” she reaches out to squeeze his arm, “use your feelings. You must use the Force. If you appeal to Anakin’s humanity and find that there is none, you must try to accept that as the truth. If you can’t sense any conflict or doubt or wavering, I beg you to not continue a lost cause. I have only felt the echoes and ghosts of the horrors Anakin and his Emperor have brought upon this galaxy, it is consolation for my sacrifice that I did not have to bear witness. Please, do not make me watch you die for him.”
“And if I sense conflict?” Luke asks. 
(Y/N) smiles sadly, “Fight like hell for it to bloom into something more. I would like nothing more than for Anakin to return to the man I once knew. I’ve never seen him give up a fight, I cannot believe him to be as much of a beaten dog as he appears.”

She looks away, gaze drifting out to the blurry trees and their thick trunks that these creatures have turned into their home.

Up off of the ground, she can already feel the range of her vision being eaten away at. There is plenty of life up here so it’s not as bad as being on a ship, but it’s a reminder of what’s to come. An appetizer for tomorrow. 
(Y/N) suddenly, acutely feels like she’s in over her head here. And she really should have seen this coming because, truthfully, things have been building towards this ever since she got to the moon. Chasing after that trooper and promptly getting lost, in general having to rely on others in order to maneuver the forest because being able to sense life forms falls very short of actually seeing, the panic that had overcome her from being captured, and now the mixture of nightfall robbing her of any visual sight and elevation from the ground limiting her other style of sight. What will happen tomorrow? By her own hand she is bound for the Death Star, a battle station without a hint of life. With Luke as her only ally, and he will surely be preoccupied with other more pressing matters. In the grasp of an enemy, who will no doubt have her restrained in some way. What state will she be left in, given all of that? What use will she be? And Luke, dear, selfless Luke, how will be he manage to juggle everything? Having to keep an eye on her, mindful of her even when she insists that it’s not needed. (Y/N)‘s putting herself at risk, considerable risk, by putting herself in Palpatine’s presence in her current state. Palpatine massacred the Jedi. Mon mentioned an attempt on his life that had left him horrifically deformed, yet alive. He can and has killed Jedi, and will kill her if given the opportunity. He’d have a decent shot at it even if she could see. What would his odds be if she was blind on a lifeless battle station, was off-balance from panic over being cuffed? 
But it’s not just her being put at risk, it’s Luke as well. He’s got enough on his plate without having her tag along. Confronting his father, possibly having to fight his father, worrying over Leia and his friends as they engage in their own battles, standing before Palpatine and telling him ‘no’.

Her fingers curl and uncurl.

This has been her pride at play. Her pride had brought her here. Her pride had insisted on the test run on Sulon, had insisted she come to Endor, had told herself that she could dash off into the forest on her own, and it now wanted her to go to Anakin and Palpatine. She had been so determined to carry on as if things hadn’t changed. Only they had. They had changed. It was an unavoidable, undeniable fact.

Aside from that fact, well, frankly, (Y/N) isn’t sure that she wants to carry on as she had before being frozen. She had done so after the fact because it was natural for her. It had been the known, the instinctive reaction, the typical routine of the last few years. Pick herself up, dust herself off, and move on. No time to mourn or think things over, not when there was another mission, another world to be saved. 
And had she not been spending all of this time since being unfrozen analyzing and reflecting on the Jedi and the causes of their ruin? Had she, even before being frozen, not been critical of choices made? Should she not also apply that to herself? If the spotlight shined on herself is not as bright as the one she shined on others, was she truly going to learn anything? Would that not be incredibly hypocritical of her? ‘Oh, yes, those dusty old Jedi did this wrong, that wrong, and all of this wrong as well. Oh, but not I. No, no. I am without flaw, I did nothing wrong, there is no need to peak behind the curtain here.’
What has she been accrediting to the fall of the Jedi? Pride. Hubris. They had believed the Sith to be permanently eliminated from the galaxy. They had believed their foresight to be above any influence or interference. They had believed there was no harm in going to war, regardless of how contradicting it was to their ideology. They had believed Dooku’s warning to warrant neither concern nor exploration. They had believed nothing was amiss as their own genocide was planned out and arranged under their noses.

Had her own pride not had a negative impact on her? Not only now, but back then? Had it not been to her detriment every now and then? Had her ego not become inflated, bit by bit, with each victory or triumph or every time she walked away from a battle still alive? Had she not constantly believed herself to be correct in debate? Had she not thought herself better or smarter than others? And, to be fair, she does have a good head on her shoulders and typically had been in the right in many instances. But there is a difference between confident and cocky, and (Y/N) can hardly claim she never strayed into the latter of the two.

The galaxy had deemed it fit to grant her a second chance. A strange way to go about it, no doubt, but all the same. She had been spared the massacre that killed almost everyone she knew. While in limbo, she had avoided falling into hands that meant her ill. And when she had finally been unfrozen, fate had aligned it so it was at the hands of the only other remaining Jedi in the galaxy. (Y/N) doesn’t believe in luck, but the amount of good fortune here does make her believe it is all more than just happenstance.

Could it be fate? It’s certainly possible.

And would it be a shameful waste to squander this second chance? Undoubtedly.

(Y/N) keeps saying that the Jedi weren’t the immortal, fantastical beings that legend or their exploits in the war had painted them as. And yet she is expecting herself to be just that. She is holding herself to a standard impossible to meet and so condemns herself to death if she tries to reach it anyway.

As Luke had just said, she’s allowed to be human. That’s all she is. She isn’t more than that. She isn’t perfect, she isn’t untouchable. She’s human and mortal and she needs to remember that before she gets herself killed chasing something unattainable.

Humility. That is what she must relearn. She had not been untouched by the war. She too had strayed from Jedi ideology. And now, she must return to it.

“I accept your decision to face him,” (Y/N) says, “but I won’t be coming with you.”
“You won’t?” His tone is peculiar, both surprised and yet not upset. 
She hums, “I’d like to. Very much so. But I…I must acknowledge my own limitations. I fear I would be of little help, and fear even more that I would be a hindrance to you.” She doesn’t feel shame in saying that. ‘Fear’ is a word not easily spoken by a Jedi, and yet she just spoke of her own without hesitation. It speaks to how at ease she feels, both with Luke and with herself. Perhaps there is hope for her.

“I doubt that very much,” Luke tells her kindly.

“You’re too generous,” she replies, “I appreciate your faith in both of us, but my current state is not an ideal one. I’d only be endangering us both by going. It is not something I am happy to concede, and hope you do not think me cowardly-”

“Never.”

(Y/N) smiles briefly before continuing, “It is time I accept that things are as they are. My pride and personal feelings regarding those two,” she lifts her unseeing gaze briefly to where the Death Star reportedly hangs in the sky, “must be set aside, neither will do me any good here. I only wish I could have done more to help you.”

“You have. You have helped,” Luke assures her, “far more than you seem to realize.”

“You’re kind to say that to this pathetic old lady.”

“I’m not blowing smoke, (Y/N). If the circumstances weren’t what they are, I’d be happy to go into this with you at my side.”

She sighs, brow furrowing, “I feel the same way. I wouldn’t mind getting the chance to give Palpatine a piece of my mind. The Jedi...we aren’t supposed to seek revenge, but I think I’d make an exception for him.”

Luke laughs lightly, “You’re really starting to sound like a rebel now, instead of a Jedi.”

“I see no harm in it,” (Y/N) shrugs, “Its not like you can tattle on me to anyone. I’m the last of the Jedi, aside from you.”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

(Y/N) frowns at his tone and his claim, “Explain yourself, Skywalker.”

“Master Yoda told me I wouldn’t be a Jedi until I confronted my father,” Luke explains. 
She shakes her head, lifting her hand to rub at the bridge of her nose, “Master Yoda’s word is not always to be taken. I thought you had recognized that fact when you decided to try and save your father despite his counsel to do otherwise.”
“There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” (Y/N) asks genuinely, “Well, Master Yoda does outrank me. But I did had the authority to take a Padawan and eventually nominate them for anointment if I had desired.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did. But I refused to take one while the war was going on,” she shakes her head again, “If I had exposed a child to that, and possibly even cost them their life in doing so, I would have struggled very hard to uphold the Jedi’s code regarding emotions. It would have been an honor to teach, but it seems it wasn’t meant to be,” she quickly gets back on track, “My point in bringing this up is that I have the authority to keep my own council on when someone is ready to be considered a Jedi. And I tell you, Luke, I already considered you one from the moment you unfroze me. I have felt your soul and since then experienced your character, and I know that you are worthy of the title.”

“Really?” Luke’s tone is one of such tragic hopefulness, (Y/N) fears it may shatter her.

“Really,” she confirms with a nod.

“Is that why you’ve never...expressed any concern that it will be me that turns, instead of my father?”

Her head jerks sharply, “Has Yoda?”

The silence is reply enough.

“I have no doubt,” (Y/N) says with a level of authority and resolve that most people cannot summon to their words, let alone actually mean, “that if you remain true to yourself, there is no possibility of your fall.”

Luke is quiet for a long time.

(Y/N) can barely decipher his emotions, they stir around inside of him like a raging storm. So she just stands there and waits, watching him with sightless eyes.

“You...you really mean that, don’t you?”

She smiles at him briefly before saying, “I wish you luck, Luke, and that the Force be with you in your next steps. Fate has it that I cannot go with you, so I will stay here and help your sister and the others to complete the mission, but know that I am with you.”

Luke’s hand comes to rest on top of where hers gently holds his arm, “Thank you.”
 
***
 
(Y/N) cannot see the creatures beyond brown, blurry blobs, nor 3PO beyond the glint of fire catching his golden metal. And she cannot understand his tale beyond the few words that do not translate to the creatures’ simple language. 
But her mind is elsewhere anyway, focused on the man who stands beside her and the man he will soon face. She smiles softly, feeling the first’s gaze again, “What is it?” 
“I need to leave,” Luke says quietly, “I have to speak with Leia first and…try to find some way to explain everything to her.”

(Y/N) nods, “I know I could tell her, but I do feel it would be best coming from you.”

“I know. And if I don’t come back-”

“I know,” she finally looks in his direction, catching just a brief flash of blue. She had already told him this not too long ago, but sees no harm in repeating herself, “May the Force be with you, Luke Skywalker.”

“And with you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

And with that, Luke turns and leaves the hut.

Leia follows a moment later.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“This is ridiculous,” Han gripes in front of her, “all of these trees look the same. I have no idea where we are.”“Join the club,” (Y/N) remarks, earning a smack on her arm for her troubles. “The generator is right there,” Leia says, probably pointing in a particular direction or possibly even up at the sky where the large dish might be visible, “We must be close.”(Y/N) glances up briefly and reaches out with the Force. She hadn’t felt the need to constantly be doing so for the entire duration of their journey as if she was a living sonar system, but has no qualms about doing so now given Leia’s assurance that they’re near something worth the effort. She can sense a mass of people to the right, far too big to be Rex and the rest of the rebels. That must be the Imperial presence within the building or complex that the generator is a part of. Meanwhile, somewhere in front of them, there is also a smaller group of people. Her first thought would be that it was a group of scouts like the ones they had encountered yesterday, but she can easily pick out Rex’s signature amongst them. It’s definitely the strike team. “Directly up ahead,” she advises, “If we continue on the current path, we’ll meet up with the others.”“Are you sure?”(Y/N) scoffs loudly while Leia asks, “How many times does she have to do this and be right for you to stop doubting her?”He makes a noncommittal noise in lieu of an actual answer. (Y/N) turns her head to offer a smile to Leia. At least she trusts in her. Han either decides to give her words due consideration, or he just sees no harm in continuing that way regardless, and maintains their present path without veering to the left or right. After a few minutes of their continued trekking through the forest, he suddenly calls out, “Hey!”(Y/N) absently glances to the right, wondering just how close they are to the shield generator. Her abilities are not foolproof, it’s possible there are scouts that she had not yet sensed nearby that will overhear if any of them are too loud. There may also be other forms of security that she is blind to, like a surveillance system of some sort. She tells him, “Keep your voice down.”“General,” a male voice greets them after a moment, spoken at a lower volume than Han’s had been now that the two groups are closer. It takes her a moment, but (Y/N) does place the voice: Bren Derlin. “Did you get here alright?” Han asks. “Yes, sir, we managed to avoid any more run-ins,” Bren tells them, “Follow me, we found a good spot to scope the place out.”(Y/N) allows Leia to pass her, head turning to offer as she smiles warmly, “Good morning, Rex.”“Morning, General,” Rex replies before continuing with more humor in his tone, “Seems like you had an interesting journey here.”“Indeed,” she glances back at 3PO and R2 who walk with the creatures that had decided to join their party, “We made some friends along the way. 3PO says they’re as eager to be rid of the Imperials as we are. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you or I found unexpected allies in natives.”He laughs quietly, “Right you are.”Chewie roars softly ahead of them and Rex’s hand lightly touches her arm, wordlessly letting her know to stop. (Y/N) squints her eyes as she tries to make out the people that stand in front of them. She ducks slightly and follows Leia to a large fallen tree. Her hands rest against the bark and she doesn’t even bother trying to look in the direction everyone else seems to be, there more for the sake of hearing the conversation. “The main entrance to the control bunker is on the far side of that landing platform,” Leia supplies, “This isn’t going to be easy.”“Hey, don’t worry,” Han assures her, “Chewie and me got into a lot of places more heavily guarded than this.”One of the creatures chatters up at 3PO and the droid offers a short reply before the creature speaks again. “What’s he saying?” Leia asks. “He says there’s a secret entrance on the other side of the ridge.”“Really? That’s great,” (Y/N) remarks, “Let’s go that way.”They move away from the log, back into the cover of the trees. “Come on, fur face,” Han urges gruffly. (Y/N) stops for a moment so the furry blobs can pass her and take point for the walk. One of them pats her leg amicably as it scurries past her. For as ferocious as the little buggers had seemed while trying to cook and eat them, they’re surprisingly friendly towards people they consider their allies. When she moves to follow, Leia’s voice makes her pause again as she asks, “(Y/N), can I talk to you about something?”“Of course,” she says easily, remaining in place and waiting to see how Leia wishes to proceed. She has the notion that the other woman wishes for the conversation to be just between the two of them.  Proving her hunch to be correct, Leia waits a moment to allow some distance to develop between them and Han. Her hand touches (Y/N)’s arm lightly, prompting her to start walking. Leia, ever direct, jumps right to it, “I’m sure Luke told you where he went.”“Yes.”“What do you think?”(Y/N) hums briefly, “As I told Luke, I’m not sure if your father-”“He isn’t my father,” Leia cuts her off, sharpness in her words not truly directed at (Y/N) and so she takes no offense to it. She blinks at Leia in surprise, not having realized she had such a disposition about the manner. Luke had been conflicted, to be sure, but had never tried to distance himself from Anakin or revoke the title of ‘father’ from him. (Y/N) offers only an understanding, “I’m sorry.”“It’s alright,” Leia replies with a gentler tone, “I know you were friends with him…” trailing off awkwardly. “I don’t remember much of my birth parents,” (Y/N) says, trying to show that she both understands the sentiment and has felt it in her own way, “I was so young when they died, I have forgotten most of that part of my life. Their voices and the house I spent the first years of my life in are lost to me. Even their faces have faded in a way that tells me I will one day not even be able to remember that. My family is made up of the people who raised me at the Jedi Temple and the friends I made there. Believe me when I say that I understand why Bail and Breha are your parents. The Anakin I knew is not the man who exists now. My friendship with him means nothing, I respect your feelings on the matter.”“Thank you,” Leia says. Their circumstances are not quite the same. Leia rejects Anakin out of anger and spite in addition to the love she carries for Bail and Breha. (Y/N) does not mean to spurn her birth parents by setting them aside, she does so simply because those are the facts of the matter. By the nature of their story’s tragic end, they had been ripped from her too soon for (Y/N) to properly remember them or the three of them together as a familial unit. She had no choice but to build something new all on her own and as a result when she thinks of her ‘family’, it is not their fading memories that feature in her mind. But regardless of this difference, (Y/N) does understand Leia’s stance. She clears her throat, “Back to your original question...I believe in Luke and the Anakin of the past. If that man can be brought back, I believe Luke will be able to accomplish doing so.”“You don’t know if he can?” Leia asks, “Can’t you...use the Force? I’m sorry, I don’t understand much of the Force. But Luke saw Han and I on Bespin and came to try and rescue us.”“The Force does allow one to see the past and the future,” (Y/N) waves her hand, “but it is not an exact science. The future is constantly in motion, each decision one makes can alter it slightly. One choice can change it entirely. There were Jedi in the past that tried to see the future and use their premonitions to change intended outcomes, but it was very rare that such meddling resulted in something better. I have never been one to look to the future in that sense because of those reasons. And there is still so much up in the air,” she looks up at the sky where the Death Star rests beyond her sight, “We are not the only ones waiting with bated breath to see what will happen aboard that station. The very Force hangs in the balance. Even if I tried, I doubt I would see anything.”Leia is quiet for a moment and then says, “I understand...I think,” and then sighs, “Luke told me that I have the Force, but this all seems so beyond me.”“Everyone has the Force,” (Y/N) explains, “It exists in all living things and does not discriminate amongst us. The key is not having the Force, it is knowing how to wield it.”“But I don’t know how to wield it,” she points out. “You’ve been given no training. The Force is strong within you, I can sense it. If you were to receive an education, you could easily be a powerful Jedi.”“What if I don’t want to be a Jedi?”“You don’t have to be,” (Y/N) assures her, “Your destiny is your own to decide.”Leia seems frustrated, “Luke told me that I was the best hope for the Rebellion if he doesn’t survive facing Vader and the Emperor. That sounds like I need to become a Jedi.”She shrugs and offers, “Perhaps if things come to that point, you will find that you do want to become one.”That just seems to frustrate her further. “May I offer some advice?” (Y/N) asks. “Yes.”“You speak of a future that may never come to be. I would encourage you to wait and see how this day unfolds. It is better to focus on the present rather than worrying over hypotheticals. I also promise to help you in any way that I can. I’ve lost most of my sight, but I still have my knowledge and connection to the Force. You won’t be alone in this.”“Thank you,” Leia says, sounding genuinely assured by her words. (Y/N) isn’t sure if she finds comfort in refocusing on the present, tangible matters or by the assurance that she won’t be alone even if Luke were not to return. Perhaps both. She continues, “I know this is the last thing you could have possibly expected would happen, but know that we’re all very glad to have you here all the same.”(Y/N) smiles kindly, “Thank you,” and her head suddenly turns when she hears a whistling sound, hand flexing at her side as she asks, “What’s that?”“One of the creatures,” Leia supplies, taking her arm, “Come on.”She follows easily, trusting Leia to take her in the new, correct direction. They reach Han’s side quickly as the creature chatters quietly.  “Back door, huh? Good idea,” Han says in return. (Y/N) can hear him moving from the sound of the ground crunching under his feet, no doubt trying to get a better look at the building. He reports, “It’s only a few guards. This shouldn’t be too much trouble.”The creature and 3PO are talking to each other in that same native tongue as Leia says, “Well, it only takes one to sound the alarm.”“Then we’ll do it real quiet like,” Han replies like he hadn’t failed at just that less than twenty-four hours ago. “Like you did yesterday?” (Y/N) asks, unimpressed, “We can’t afford another disaster like that again.”“Oh. Oh, my!” 3PO exclaims behind them, “Princess Leia!”Leia releases her arm to turn towards 3PO, urging, “Quiet!”Han reaches over to smack (Y/N)’s leg from where he’s crouched closer to the ground and she responds in turn with a swift kick against some solid body part as she hisses, “And stop smacking me!” 3PO laments behind them, “I’m afraid our furry companion has gone and done something rather rash.”Chewie roars quietly. “Oh, no.” Leia’s tone makes (Y/N) look away from where she had been glaring in Han’s general direction, “What’s happening?” “One of those creatures is doing something.” Not the most helpful response. She puffs her cheeks out with air before blowing.  “There goes our surprise attack,” Han sighs, sounding equal parts exhausted and annoyed. An engine turns on and revs loudly. “Look! Over there!” someone yells, “Stop him!”(Y/N) stares at the blurry green in front of her, sensing how people are moving around but having no clue as to what’s actually occurring. She hears more engines turn on. Based on how the volume quickly decreases, they must have all driven away. She directs her attention back to where that group of people had once been and can now only sense one person remaining. She blinks, turning to look at the people around her. They all seem to be caught in a similar stunned silence. “Not bad for a little furball,” Han eventually says, “There’s only one left. You stay here. We’ll take care of this.”He slips away quickly and the other rebels follow him, leaving herself, Leia, Chewie, the droids, and the remaining creature behind. “I need your eyes,” (Y/N) informs Leia. She’s very curious to see how this turns out. Han talks a lot of game, and she does recognize that he must be able to back up most of it as he would likely be dead otherwise, but his performance yesterday had left much to be desired. “They’re approaching the bunker,” Leia narrates, “…only they’ve split up…Han’s gone to the left, everyone else to the right,” she sighs tiredly, “What are they doing? Han’s…sneaking up? He’s sneaking up on the guard from behind. He just tapped his shoulder and ran to the right. The guard’s followi-they got him. I can’t believe that actually worked.”(Y/N) blinks at her, opening her mouth briefly before closing it again without actually having said anything. As odd as it is to say given how short of a time she’s actually known him, this all feels incredibly on-brand for Han. “Alright,” Leia sighs, sounding like she still can’t quite believe such a simple idea had worked but also knowing they need to just accept it and move on, “Come on.”(Y/N) follows Leia and Chewie down the hill to a large grey blur, the control bunker no doubt, that the rest of the team stands by. She approaches Rex and knocks her knuckles against the white armor that now covers his chest, “Just like old times, hmm?”“Not at all,” he replies, “This armor is far cheaper and weaker. Might as well not be wearing it.”“Good to know,” she says, having had very limited experience fighting Imperial soldiers so far. Knowing the armor they wear is inferior to that which the clones wore will be useful if a fight were to ensue. With her fractured vision, deflecting blasts to the typical weak points for clone-level armor would be tricky, but apparently she will not need to be so selective or precise in her aim. (Y/N) redirects her attention to the task at hand and enters the bunker as Han and Leia do. She refrains from triggering her lightsaber for now, eager to maintain the element of surprise for as long as they can. Walking around with a large, buzzing, glowing stick of light doesn’t exactly scream ‘stealth’. They descend a flight of stairs and Han is quickly moving to the side for cover as blaster fire comes flying at them. (Y/N) can see the white armor of the troopers easily enough and does grab her lightsaber now. She triggers the green blade, stepping into the open space before her perhaps more than she strictly needed to but wanting to be sure there was enough distance between herself and the others. She spins her saber with practiced ease, muscles not realizing twenty-three years have passed since she last saw real combat. Han fires at troopers over her shoulder, perfectly mimicking an attack form that she and her soldiers had done countless times before. The red blasts zip past her head, close enough at times that she can feel their heat against her skin, but trusts that Han knows what he’s doing. “I’ve got cover,” he tells her as bodies fall. (Y/N) leaps forward now that the group of troopers is not as large and cuts down those that remain in mere moments. Their armor would have to be beskar itself to have any hope of resisting her attack, but she had been fortunate enough to not be unfrozen during yet another war with Mandalore and so their armor failed them instantly. She comes to a stop after just a few slashes of her blade, head turning back towards Han expectantly as she stands surrounded by carnage. Her breathing had not even changed, that’s how easy this had been for her. She takes comfort in that. For all of her self-doubts and conscious efforts to both recognize and respect her limits, it appears she is not completely helpless.  “Not bad,” Han says absently as he walks past her and a smile does pull at her lips at the effort it must have taken for him to appear unimpressed. She deactivates her lightsaber before attaching it to her belt once more and then turns to follow him deeper into the bunker. They manage to avoid any further encounters with Imperials and when another door opens in front of them, Han is immediately barking orders as he marches into the room, “Alright, up! Move! Come on. Quickly. Quickly,” and then says in a kinder yet still commanding voice, “Chewie.”Given the lack of blaster fire or shouting, it appears their element of surprise had remained intact despite the shootout and they had caught everyone here unawares. She vaguely can see movement in front of her, which must be whatever Imperial personnel that happened to be in the room moving to comply with Han’s commands. The room is darkly lit, though oddly enough the floor does glow under her feet, so (Y/N) is left almost completely blind to her surroundings. She steps to the side and tries her best to stay out of the way as the others hurry about the room. “Han, hurry!” Leia urges, “The fleet will be here any moment.”Chewie is growling to the right as Han shouts impatiently, “Charges! Come on, come on!”Another rebel hurries past her, but they stop abruptly. (Y/N) had been introduced to the entire strike team on the journey here, so she is vaguely familiar with each presence and voice. She looks at him expectantly, subtlety reaching out with the Force. Ah, this is Caluan. “Want to plant a charge or two?” he asks, holding out what must be a small pack of explosives. Back to being surrounded by metal, she once again finds herself being of little use. She cannot see much of the layout of this room that they are in, relying mainly on the movement of others for any sort of orientation. (Y/N) shrugs and makes no move to take a charge from the offered bag, “I’ll only slow you down.”“Okay,” he says easily and moves on. (Y/N)’s head turns sharply and she says urgently, “Han-”“Freeze!” That’s a voice she doesn’t recognize, which means it likely belongs to the person she had just been trying to warn him about. That same voice screams a moment later, saying Han or someone else promptly took care of him. Her head turns once again and the commotion around her fades into ambient background noise as she suddenly realizes what’s occurring. She reaches for her saber once again when an unexpected feeling of calm washes over her despite the ambush she knows is seconds from flooding the room. Patience. The Force is cautioning her from starting a fight, instead advocating for patience. She isn’t sure why exactly, as premonitions like this rarely explain themselves. Perhaps she would be shot and killed right now if she tries. Perhaps one of the others would be. Perhaps a stray blast would strike a charge and blow them all up. Whatever the reason, the Force doesn’t wish for her to fight right now. Luke had advocated something similar yesterday, not cutting down the furry creatures and their primitive weapons that would have been useless against two lightsabers and instead urging them all to surrender their weapons and allow the creatures to take them hostage. While the results of that had not immediately been positive, they had ultimately gained an ally with useful knowledge concerning the Imperials here. (Y/N) chooses to put her faith into the Force and remains silent. All she does is use the Force to pluck her saber from her belt and lift it further up her poncho. She might be refraining from fighting right now, but she is much less willing to surrender the weapon that would make things much more difficult for her if it was found. Being without a weapon would already be hassle enough, but there is also the added element of risk that it be recognized by someone who understands the implications of its presence. She might eat a blast just for the sake of eliminating the unpredictable variable that she poses. Imperial soldiers flood the room and the rebels don’t even have the chance to try and mount any sort of counterattack before they’re completely surrounded. “You rebel scum,” one of the men says, disdain dripping from his voice. “…Scum?” Han repeats incredulously, sounding genuinely offended by the word. Chewie roars loudly in protest, but no one else seems to put up any sort of fight. That same man starts barking orders, “Back out this way! Now! Commander, ensure all of their explosives are removed.” (Y/N) steps forward to try and reach Han’s side, wanting to be close to him and Leia for whatever is about to ensue. Someone shoves her shoulder to try and force a course correction back towards the door, “That way!” “Apologies,” she says, turning to fix him with a white-eyed glare, “I’m blind, in case you failed to notice.”“Blind?” he scoffs, “The Alliance must be desperate if they're sending the blind to do their dirty work.”“Evidently,” she says flatly, turning away and following the others. She slips into the group and quickly finds herself by Han’s side as had been her original desire. “Some warning would have been nice,” he mutters in greeting. “Everything will be fine,” she replies quietly. He scoffs, “And where have I heard that before?”(Y/N) truly doesn’t know the answer to that question, but imagines she would laugh if she did know the context that prompted it. They exit the bunker and (Y/N) blinks against the sunlight that now hits her face. At least she’s back on earth instead of blinding metal. There is a considerable amount of Imperial troops surrounding them, that much she can tell. She can also sense that Rex and the others are still alive. What’s more…she can sense another group of individuals creeping in from all sides. (Y/N)’s eyes flicker up to where they had left 3PO and R2. Had they seen the Imperial reinforcements and managed to rally the creatures to the cause? There’s a loud crashing sound from somewhere ahead of her that interrupts her line of thought. The ground shakes under her feet and she can’t help but compare the sensation to heavy footsteps. Only that is a very, very loud crashing sound that no human could ever make. It also sounds distinctly mechanical. She observes just as much under her breath, “That doesn’t sound human.”Han hums in question beside her. “What’s making all that noise?” she asks, slightly louder. “AT-STs. Walkers. Big metal assault-type. Multiple cannons and launchers. Two inside.” Damn him, he’s clever. He instantly knew what information to provide. Han might be playing the role of well-behaved prisoner, but his mind is clearly still racing as he tries to formulate a plan. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had noticed that her lightsaber wasn’t taken. The officer who had pushed her before shouts, “No talking!” as he shoves his finger directly into (Y/N)’s face, making her lean away slightly out of instinct. “Ah,” he says, almost smugly, “Not entirely blind, then?”(Y/N)’s eyes flicker from his finger to his face, fixing him with a glare even if she cannot find his eyes. That amassing population is moving closer. “No,” she concedes, “not entirely blind. And yet, oddly enough, even like this I can still see more than you.”“I’m sure,” he scoffs, snapping his fingers in front of her nose in what she can only assume is either a weak attempt at testing her vision or an even weaker attempt at mocking or intimidating her. “Alright, move it,” someone else says and (Y/N) breezes past the officer in favor of sticking with the group of captured rebels. Han mutters, “Let’s kill him first,” as someone is ordering, “Keep moving. Come on!” The cylinder of her lightsaber presses against her chest, eerily similar to its positioning when she had been frozen in the carbonite. 3PO’s voice suddenly rings out across the clearing, “Hello! I say, over there! Were you looking for me?”Han turns beside her to look in that direction. Chewie growls as he turns as well. (Y/N)’s gaze, however, rises towards the treetops. “Bring those two down here!” her new best friend orders. (Y/N)’s fingers flex, muscle tensing in anticipation. This is it. This is what the Force made her wait for. The advantage is theirs again, both in terms of numbers and the element of surprise. All that remains is for the others to retrieve their weapons, which will be easily done when the Imperials are unexpectedly distracted in a moment. She looks at Han silently. He seems to still be watching the soldiers going after the droids, no doubt trying to make sense of why 3PO would reveal himself like that. But he does eventually notice her gaze and turns his head to look at her. “Now?”A call from a horn sounds, and is quickly met by the call from another. “Now,” she confirms, lightsaber flying down to her expectant hand as if pulled by an invisible string. The obnoxious officer loses his head as the creatures reveal themselves with a war cry. The rebels recover from the sudden beheading and unexpected appearance of creatures of which they had only fleetingly encountered two but that are now here in abundance and spring into action. (Y/N) cuts her way through countless troopers, blocking their shots with her saber and pushing them away with flicks of her wrist in an effort to create some distance between them and the rebels. There’s chaos all around her, but she doesn’t mind. If anything, this is the most familiar thing she’s experienced since being unfrozen. The air is smokey from all of the shooting and she can hear a lot of shouting and blaster fire that says many of the troops have charged into the forest. Once determining that Han and Leia have established themselves by the bunker door, she takes off into the forest as well. She isn’t sure what the creatures are capable of, but she thinks her assistance would be welcome when it comes to those AT-STs. She feels the Force swelling inside her, raw power pumping through her veins with each beat of her heart. It sharpens her senses more than they already are, working to compensate for her lost sight by all means available to her. Even with her poor vision, the white armor of the troopers is easy to pick out amongst the browns and greens of the trees. (Y/N) feels the ground shake from one of those walkers and turns on a dime to run towards it. Her blade buzzes at her side as she darts between trees as she seeks out that loud mechanical sound. A squadron of troopers walk by its large feet, no doubt firing at the creatures she can’t see that scramble around trying to find a way to take down the large machine. She deals with them first, cutting through their armor and bodies indiscriminately. Her lightsaber curls behind her to block a shot fired at her back and she quickly whirls around to throw the saber at the trooper. The white of his armor falls to the ground in pieces and her hand raises to call her saber back to her. The metal of the hilt smacks against her palm and (Y/N) lifts her other hand towards the walker. As soon as she feels the phantom touch of cool metal, she clenches her fist. She can’t quite see it, but she does hear how the body of AT-ST crumples into itself like a balled up piece of paper. She swings her arm down and the walker crashes to the ground, legs snapping out like a demented straddle split, kicking up dirt and debris. There’s a brief lull of silence around her as (Y/N)’s head turns slowly, ears listening for a new target. She suddenly runs to the left, drawn by the sound of nearby blaster fire. Her feet leave the ground as she leaps through the air, green blade cutting with deadly precision.  “General, duck!”(Y/N) drops immediately at Rex’s voice, somersaulting forward and springing back up to her feet in a crouched position. She hears a cry of pain somewhere to the right and straightens, eyes searching for any hint of more white. Rex is still clad in his stolen armor, but his presence is too familiar for her to mistake him as an enemy. She sees enough movement to recognize there are some other rebels emerging from the trees into this small clearing they stand in. “General,” Bruckman says, drawing her sightless gaze. She isn’t technically a General anymore, but it seems the strike team has just naturally followed Rex’s lead and has no problem using the obsolete rank when addressing her. He continues, “There’s a squad nearby battling the natives.”“Lead the way,” she indicates with her empty hand. The small group follows Bruckman. If (Y/N) were to close her eyes, she could almost pretend it was still twenty-three years ago and she was currently marching into battle with men of the 378th. She can feel Rex examining her with a sharp gaze that would rival that of the shriek-hawk whose eyes he once painted on his helmet. (Y/N) looks at him in turn, lifting her eyebrow in question. “It’s been a few years since I’ve felt such a strong feeling of deja vu, sir,” he tells her. A smile pulls at her lips. He’s of a similar mindset at this moment. Even if he’s more used to Anakin or Ahsoka being in her role, and Taps being in his role for her, they both are familiar with the trust that had been built between the Jedi and the clones. (Y/N) hadn’t even thought about it when he had shouted at her to duck, she had just done it. When they had moved to follow Bruckman, Rex had naturally fallen into step beside her in that natural ‘right hand man’ position. What a perfect plan by Palpatine, to hide the key to the massacre of the Jedi inside the men that they would be helpless to resist befriending and trusting.  The sound of blaster fire and angry shouts in that native tongue tells (Y/N) that they’ve reached the melee. She lifts her saber and can sense Rex moving beside her as they both naturally settle into that same attack formation that she had just used with Han inside the bunker. The others open fire on the Imperial soldiers, drawing their attention away from the creatures. (Y/N) deflects blaster fire as Rex shoots over her shoulders. As the rebels fan out as they slowly start to overpower the Imperials, she can hear a louder type of blaster fire not far away. The ground doesn’t yet shake under her feet, but she knows it will soon.  “Rex.”“Go. We’ve got this.”She runs in the direction of that familiar, loud creaking and thumping of mechanical movement, quickly finding the grey amongst the green and honing in on it like a heat-seeking missile. As she darts across the small battleground, she shoves her hand to the side, making a trooper fly backwards out of her way and strike a thick tree trunk with a crunch. (Y/N) flips her saber in her hand and slices through the metal leg of the walker. It falls to its side and she climbs up on top. She flips her saber again and drives it through the metal. One of the men inside screams, no doubt pierced by the deadly blade. She cuts a somewhat sloppy circle into the metal and straightens. Her boot stomps down, knocking the metal into the cockpit. Her blade swings down next, deflecting the blaster fire from the other man right back down to strike him. (Y/N) jumps off the walker back onto the ground, reaching out with the Force to locate Han or Leia. She had been off in the forest fighting for a while, she should go check on them. They hardly need a babysitter, either together or individually, but she will still feel better knowing they’re alright. She starts walking to where she can sense both of them, still by the bunker if her sense of direction isn’t completely fucked, absently deflecting another blast back at a grey silhouette as she goes. When she reaches the large clearing, she peers up at the AT-ST that stands near the bunker. It is not firing, or even moving at all, which keeps her from raising her hand or moving to attack it with her saber. She squints at the top of the walker, not able to see him but able to sense Chewie. Is he about to break into the cabin? He roars loudly. Ah. He’s already done so, going on to commandeer the walker rather than abandon it after killing those inside. Han calls out in relief, “Chewie!”(Y/N)’s unseeing gaze is drawn to the left, Force calling for her attention while Han is too distracted to notice. She throws her lightsaber and it spins through the air before embedding itself in a white silhouette. Her hand twitches, catching a red bolt in midair so it hovers just a few feet away from Han and Leia rather than continuing onward and possibly hitting either of them. She crosses the clearing, calling her saber back to her hand. (Y/N) casually swings it to knock the frozen blast off into the forest where it harmlessly strikes a tree.“Hi,” she greets everyone and looks down at Leia where she is on the ground, brow furrowing, “Are you alright?”“Yes, I’m fine,” Leia says, grimace audible, “Just got hit in the shoulder.”“See what you can do,” Han tells (Y/N), “I’ve got an idea about getting this door open.”(Y/N) isn’t entirely sure what she, a blind woman, is supposed to ‘do’ about an injury, but chooses not to comment on that. As for that second thing, though, she can’t help but ask, “You didn’t open the door?” as she kneels down at Leia’s side. Her gaze briefly flickers to the solid grey of the closed doors. She could cut through it easily enough with her lightsaber, but sets that thought aside for a moment in favor of checking on Leia. “What does it look like?” he snaps. “You tell me,” she retorts. Han makes a frustrated noise and storms away. (Y/N) looks back at Leia to ask, “Which shoulder?”“Left.”She squints at where she thinks Leia’s arm is, touching the poncho lightly in case she accidentally comes too close to the wound. She reaches out with the Force briefly and then reports, “It’s not damaging. It will leave a small scar…perhaps.”Leia doesn’t speak. She might nod in response, forgetting that (Y/N) can’t see it. (Y/N) continues either way, “I can’t do much else. And I think someone with sight should wrap it.”“I agree,” Leia says, “We need to move away from this door, I don’t know if Han’s about to shoot it open with the walker or what.(Y/N) nods and quickly stands, offering a hand to help Leia to her feet as well.  *** She feels it. The exact moment Anakin dies. (Y/N) can feel the presence that she had treasured and held in her heart even after it had broken vanish from the infinite cosmos of the Force. Anakin dies and (Y/N) has never felt more alone. If learning of Obi-Wan’s death had felt like the sun dying and all warmth vanishing from her world, feeling Anakin die feels like her world shattering entirely. There’s nothing left. What does she have now that they are both gone? Each of them had possessed half of her heart and had taken it with them as they passed on. Obi-Wan, the first person she has a clear memory of loving. Anakin, the only person she had ever said the words ‘I love you’ to. The rug has been pulled out from under her feet, only inside of falling onto a cold, unforgiving floor, she falls into nothingness. There is nothing to catch her, there is nothing for her to fall to. Not even the vast vacuum of space can compare to the utter nothingness she can feel in her soul. At her core, a black hole sucks and eats and devours and destroys everything in its path until she is but an empty shell. She’s just sinew and bones at this point, heart only beating on because of the subconscious part of her brain telling it to. If it was a conscious decision, (Y/N) doesn’t know if she would have the will to keep it going at this point. What does it beat for? What is left of her?Her fingers curl into tight fists, nails digging into the flesh of her palms. She had felt Palpatine die not too long ago. She had nearly asked Kes if she could borrow his helmet just to have something to throw into the air in celebration. The Force is infinite, and yet finite. There is only so much she can sense from here. The deaths of those two men, the fact that Luke is still alive. She doesn’t know what unfolded before that, what may have occurred during, or what remains now. She can sense a feeling of peace. Something in the Force has shifted. That is the only indication she has towards anything more. Luke appears to be unchanged, his presence is still warm and whole and kind and hasn’t become tainted or perverted. She would take that to mean he had remained true to himself in the face of whatever occurred aboard the battle station. She will know for sure soon, as he will surely return to Endor now. But until then, she can merely speculate. Anakin, for better or worse, is stubborn. He is a force of nature. Untamable as the sea, strong and destructive like a storm. (Y/N) believes in her heart that he would not have gone quietly. If Obi-Wan died saving others, Anakin surely died the same way. They are opposite sides of the same coin, with more similarities than differences despite protests to the contrary. They had always been her two constants in life. When Luke had been telling her about the galaxy she had awoken to, Obi-Wan’s sacrifice had been the most normal sounding thing to her. He had remained a constant even when she was not there to experience it. Anakin, for all his faults, had likely remained the same at his core as well. Stubborn and headstrong and strong in his conviction. He had surely made a terrifying Sith Lord with those traits. Palpatine died first, and her heart tells her Anakin played a role.(Y/N)’s eyes close and her head bows for a moment. Her heart aches for her friend, regardless of his ultimate choice. She still loves him. He was her friend for years, (Y/N) can’t help just forget that. She can’t not mourn him. And she will. She will mourn Anakin. She will mourn his life and death. She grimaces as her train of thought is broken by the unsettling feeling of countless lives suddenly being wiped from existence in an instant. Her head lifts towards the sky even as her stomach churns in horror. That loss, regardless of the type of people those lives belonged to, is like a knife slashing its way through the Force. It rips through the very fabric of it. The sky above her bleeds red with the loss, only her and her unseeing eyes able to see it. She says quietly, “Chewie?”He growls. “What just happened?”Chewie lumbers over to her. After a moment, he roars triumphantly. All around her, cheering breaks out. The Death Star had been destroyed. The explosion is visible from even here. She cannot see it. He rumbles quietly in question. “Yes,” (Y/N) answers, gaze still fixed on the sky where she can sense Luke’s presence, “he made it off in time.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“And just where the hell do you think you’re going?”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrow as her head turns to look at Han. She offers with a mildly clipped tone, “On a walk, General. Is that alright with you?”

“Not particularly,” he says, shuffling through the herd of furry creatures as he approaches her, “It’s getting dark out and we’re in the middle of a forest. A seeing person would get lost.”

One of the creatures plucks at her hand, trying to draw her back into the celebration as he chatters happily at her. (Y/N) doesn’t mind being pawed at by the creatures as they have certainly won her over by now despite a disastrous start to their relationship thanks to their role in the fight and because their cheerful joy and triumphant horn tooting is rather endearing. She resists his efforts, however, as she doesn’t quite find herself in a celebratory mood just yet. (Y/N) also makes a mental note to keep an eye out for any hairy paws getting too close to her lightsaber. The feelings of camaraderie might be hampered a tad if one of the little natives accidentally eats the business end of her saber thanks to a wayward swipe for her hand.

She rolls her sightless eyes at Han, “I know where I’m going.”

“Listen, kid,” he says, completely ignoring (Y/N)’s scoff as their ongoing battle for seniority continues, “I’m in no mood to listen to Luke throw a fit when he gets back here and finds out you’ve gone missing in a forest that spans the entire surface of this godforsaken rock.”

“I’m not going to go missing, junior,” she tells him. (Y/N) hasn’t forgotten how she had briefly gotten lost yesterday, she simply knows that there is a very specific place that she needs to go and knows she will get there and back without issue. She proposes, “Give me a com. That way you can call me if I take too long to come back. Coms still have trackers, right? You’ll be able to find me easily if by some chance I do get lost.”

Han sighs but still agrees, “Fine. Wait here.”

(Y/N) stays in place, head lifting briefly to scowl at the tree branches above her. He hadn’t been wrong, daylight is fading. Again, she isn’t concerned about getting lost in this instance, but nightfall will make tripping or walking into something much more likely. And the last thing she needs is to come back with bruises or scrapes. Han would never let her hear the end of it.

“Where are you really going, sir?”

“Rex,” she looks at his blurry silhouette, “I’m going to find Luke.”

“Did General Skywalker...”

She shakes her head. Neither the question or answer had actually been spoken, but they both understand each other regardless. “I’ll need to help Luke make a pyre. He shouldn’t be alone.”

“I understand,” Rex says, “We’ll drink to him when you get back.”

(Y/N) inclines her head silently. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s toasted a fallen comrade, and it likely won’t be the last. 
“Here you go, kid,” Han says, announcing his return. 
(Y/N) lifts an arm to reach out into empty space expectantly. His hand, fingers rough from a life of manual labor and wielding blasters, brushes over her palm as he passes her the com device and tells her, “Don’t go far.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she says, rolling her eyes once again. (Y/N) offers a lazy salute to Rex and then heads off into the forest, relying on the Force to take her where she needs to go. 
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s leaning against a tree when the ship lands. The sun is setting, casting strange colors and large shadows across the forest that slowly eat away at what remains of her vision. The gusts of wind created by the thrusters pull at her hair and tunic, having ditched the poncho after the fighting had ended and stealth was no longer needed. She can barely see the ship, relying more on the looming presence created by the sheer mass of the vessel that anyone could detect and Luke’s presence within it in order to know it's there.

There’s a whirling of gears and shifting of metal as the ship settles onto the ground and opens. Based on the noises, she’d say there’s a ramp and not just a door of sorts as a means of access to the ship’s interior. If the lighting was better, she’d go so far as to wager that this ship is the same make as the one they had flown to Endor in.

Luke shines bright like a beacon to her as he emerges from the ship. There isn’t a blemish on his soul, though sorrow does surround him like a cloud trying to block out the sun. He doesn’t seem surprised to see her as there’s no flare of any sort of emotion or stutter in his footsteps.

(Y/N) pushes away from the trunk and meets him halfway. Her hands raise instinctively and come to rest on his forearms and she asks, “Are you alright?” as Luke asks, “Are you okay?”

She smiles in amusement at the simultaneous questions and quickly assures him, “Yes, I’m fine. As is everyone else.”

“I’ve been better,” Luke admits, making her frown, “but I’ll be okay.”
(Y/N) squints at him, desperately trying to see through the veil that obscures her vision and determine what’s wrong. Her hands tighten the hold. Had Anakin hurt him? Had the Emperor? Is he bleeding? Had he been walking with a limp? 
“I’m alright, (Y/N),” Luke tells her, hands cradling her arms in return, “Nothing permanent.”

“That isn’t as assuring as you seem to think.”

He huffs a laugh.

“What about Anakin?”

“I got to him,” Luke’s smile is audible. There’s almost a giddiness to his voice that pierces through the exhaustion she can sense coming off of him that is beyond endearing as he tells her, “I brought him back. He saved me from the Emperor.”

(Y/N) offers her own smile as her heart soars, “I’m glad.”

“I was able to talk to him for a moment before he died. I’ll carry it with me forever.”

She nods. Her chest feels like it may burst open with the amount of joy that swells inside it. Anakin may be dead, but at least he died as himself and was able to speak to Luke briefly as his father. As the man he truly was.

(Y/N)’s hand slides down his arm to take his hand. She squeezes it briefly, “I’m happy for you, Luke, you have no idea how much.”

He squeezes her hand in return. And then asks, “What are you doing out here?”

“I wanted to say goodbye to Anakin,” she explains, eyes flickering briefly to the ship behind him, “and I wanted to offer my help with the pyre.”

She thinks Luke nods. He gently pulls away from her as he turns back the way he had come, “He’s in there. There’s a ramp, by the way.”

(Y/N) steps around him and walks towards the ship. She’s mindful of the ramp, stepping carefully to avoid tripping on the lip. Luke follows closely behind her. The ship is dark, but she doesn’t need to see in order to find Anakin’s body. Luke sighs, muttering something behind her about crummy equipment, and there’s a series of bangs as he thumps his fist against the wall a few times. The darkened lights flicker to life as (Y/N) carefully sinks down to her knees by Anakin’s left side.

He wears all black. (Y/N) touches the panel that rests on his chest, fingers carefully running over the various controls and what can only be small, darkened bulbs. With these lights on, and with Anakin wearing the mask made of sharp angles and large curves that currently rests beside him, he would have looked like a droid. (Y/N) thinks it’s fitting that Palpatine dressed him in a way that stripped him of all humanity. Had that not been his modus operandi when it came to corrupting him? She peers at Anakin’s face and curses her damaged eyes for how she is not able to see much of her friend’s features. His skin is pale, probably having not felt the sun’s rays for about as long as she hadn’t. And it hurts so much, so damn much, to think of how Anakin had also spent the last twenty-three years in a cage.

She leans a bit closer, and is just able to see imperfections in the skin. Her breath catches in her throat. For her to be able to perceive it, they must really be bad. Horrible, brutal scarring from whatever had made him need all of this.

“Oh, Anakin,” (Y/N) says quietly and reaches out to take his hand into hers. She pauses for a moment as she unexpectedly feels the unrelenting hardness of metal instead of subtle give of flesh and bone underneath the glove. That isn’t right. It’s his other arm that had to be replaced after Geonosis. Her gaze flickers back to his face as she whispers, “What has become of you?”

She holds his hand between hers, cradling it against her chest for a moment. Her head bows and she presses her lips to his hand. It is not so much a kiss as just a quiet gesture of farewell. Her eyes close briefly and she lets out a deep, tired breath.

(Y/N) carefully places his hand back down and looks over at Luke. She isn’t sure if he’s watching her or looking at his father. She sighs and climbs back to her feet, feeling like she’s leaving a part of herself behind on the shuttle’s floor. 
 
***
 
She cannot see her friend’s funeral. A wave of blurred, yellow flames is all her damaged eyes can perceive. The flames blur further when tears begin to fall freely down her face as Anakin’s body becomes nothing but smoke and ash. 
 
***
 
“Luke,” (Y/N) says tentatively.

He quickly stops, “Yeah?”

“It’s dark,” she reminds him, “I can’t see.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

She feels him return to her side. He takes her hand and they start walking back towards where the Rebellion is surely in the full swing of a party right now. He breaks the brief, yet comfortable silence that had settled between them, “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) replies kindly, looking off at nothing.

“Are you okay?” Luke asks, “You seem...elsewhere.”

“I’m here,” she assures him, turning her head so she’s looking at his face. It’s a fruitless effort given the dark, but the sentiment still rings true. She continues, “I just have a lot on my mind. I never thought I would see this day.”

“The end of the war? If that’s what you mean, I do have to tell you that the fight against the Empire isn’t over yet.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “not the fighting. The Clone War never felt like it would be a very lengthy affair. I always believed that I would outlive it by several decades as long as I didn’t die in battle. I mean the day when the Force would be at balance again. You did that today.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke protests, “My father killed the Emperor, not me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Luke. You might not have dealt the blow, but you got Anakin to the point that he could. If not for you, he never would have been able to break free from the hold Palpatine had on him. The Force feels more at peace today than I have ever felt it before. Can you sense it?”

Luke is quiet for a moment before finally saying, “…I think so?”

“You gave Anakin his agency back,” (Y/N) tells him, “I don’t know what you discussed, and you don’t have to tell me, but I hope you know how much that means to him.”

There are conversations to still be had one day. She wants to know just what Anakin did aboard the Death Star that brought about Palpatine’s demise. She wants to tell Luke that Anakin had once been a slave. But today is not that day.

They walk the rest of the journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. His hand is warm in hers as they navigate the dark forest together.

She parts from Luke when they reach the small celebration amongst the treetops as Leia all but runs to practically tackle Luke with a hug. (Y/N) finds a place at the outskirts of the party, a small smile finding its way onto her face as she watches blurry silhouettes dance around the fires. Rex joins her for a moment and they quietly lift their glasses to Anakin’s memory before he leaves again to seek out others, offering a promise to come find her again later.

Luke returns to her side a short time later, hand finding a place on her back as he tells, “There are some people here who want to see you.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows rise slightly, surprised he’s managed to find more people she knows, “Alright.”

He starts to lead her towards these new people, but she is soon frowning in confusion. She observes, “Luke, the party’s the other way.”

“I know.”

She huffs, “Well, what are y-” the word catches half-formed in her throat.

“There you go,” he laughs, knowing she can sense them now.

(Y/N) just blinks rapidly in utter shock.

“I’ll leave you three alone,” Luke tells her, patting her shoulder and then returning to the party.

(Y/N) picks her jaw up from the ground and reaches out for the handrail. She feels numb from her shock but luckily it hasn’t found its way to her hand and she’s able to feel the rough wood under her palm when she comes in contact with it. Her legs move almost of their own accord as she uses the rail to take her the rest of the way.

It’s…it’s not possible. They can’t be here.

“(Y/N).”

That voice…it’s one she’s never heard before. And yet it’s still so familiar to her that (Y/N) knows it can only belong to one of the few people she holds close to her heart. A huge smile spreads across her face as she says, “Obi-Wan.”

Her gaze flickers a bit to the left where she can sense, “Anakin.”

Her damaged sight is suddenly irrelevant. She doesn’t even feel the absence, not when they are here. Not when she feels whole again. The part, the parts, that had been missing from (Y/N) ever since she was unfrozen have been returned to her. They are her real eyes, far more than the ones in her skull. Anakin and Obi-Wan had always had her back, had always watched out for her, far better than she ever could herself. It had been care for them that pushed (Y/N) to try and understand things. Worry that they could be hurt in the war they were all forced to fight in. It had been her love for them that kept her from ever truly silencing or dismissing her worries, that had made the voice at the back of her mind persist. She had tried so hard to see the world around her, tried so hard to see the paths they were on. She had fallen short of that goal, her efforts cut short by the carbonite and possibly still falling short even if she hadn’t been frozen, but (Y/N) would suffer the hibernation sickness a hundred times if it meant she could have seen things clearly and saved the two people that mean the most to her.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Anakin says. His voice has also changed, aged by time and sorrow both, and yet still possesses a quality that can make it only belong to him.

She shakes her head softly, “I...I can’t believe it. How are you both here?”

“My old Master found a way to achieve life even after death,” Obi-Wan supplies, “and Yoda passed on the lesson to me.”

“And my old Master showed me the way,” Anakin adds, warmth in his voice as he refers to Obi-Wan. Warmth that had been nonexistent just yesterday.

(Y/N) shakes her head again and can only helplessly say, “This is impossible.”

“You say that even after what you have experienced?”

A smile pulls at her lips. “I’m a slow learner apparently. I haven’t seen a single not-impossible thing since I was unfrozen and yet somehow still think I have any authority to say what is and isn’t.”

He laughs softly.

“How long?” Anakin asks, “I never sensed you before yesterday.”

She had actually told him this already during their telepathic conversation, but doesn’t mind repeating herself. A lot had been said during that little chat, and much had happened since, so (Y/N) doesn’t blame Anakin for not remembering everything. “A few days ago. I was on Tatooine.”

“Tatooine?” Obi-Wan says, tone one of utter disbelief.

“In Jabba the Hutt’s palace,” she confirms, “I don’t know how long I was there, only that Luke found me when he came to rescue Han.”

He huffs, sounding frustrated.

“And your eyes…” Anakin says, trailing off helplessly.

(Y/N) lightly touches the skin under her left eye, “The carbonite. Most of my sight is gone.”

“Can you see us?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “but I actually don’t mind that fact. I can sense you both as strongly as I could if you were actually standing here with me so I can pretend for a moment that it’s still then instead of now.”

There’s a brief silence and then Anakin says, “(Y/N), I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Anakin?” By her count, she’s owed more than one of those.

“Everything,” is the reply, “I know you must hate me-”

“I don’t,” she interjects.

He’s quiet.

“I don’t hate you, Anakin,” (Y/N) tells him. She shrugs helplessly, smiling sadly, “I never could. I’m certainly not happy with what you did, but for the most part...I’m just sad. It breaks my heart that something happened and brought you to a place where Palpatine could convince you to betray everyone you cared about. You don’t have to tell me right now, we can dwell in sorrows another time. I’m just saddened that your family was torn apart.”

She looks off at nothing, “I actually had similar conversations to this one with your children. I wasn’t there, and that fact will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

She hadn’t been there. All the speculation and reflection and theorizing and discussion ultimately meant nothing. She hadn’t been there and so she will never be free of the ‘what if’ of the matter. What if (Y/N) had been there? Could she have stopped it? Could she have made a difference? Would she have asked the right questions about Palpatine or been a friendly face for Anakin to turn to? Would she have been able to save him from himself?

Or would she have died? (Y/N) had trusted her men with her life, would she have been able to sense their betrayal before it happened? Probably not, seeing how few had survived. She probably would have been shot in the back by Taps or Three-Four or Wings and been dead before she hit the ground. Or maybe she would have been on Coruscant at the time and been struck down by Anakin when he marched on the Temple. 
(Y/N) sighs and continues, “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see what happened, I can only feel the echoes of it.  I didn't feel the loss as it occurred, I didn’t experience your betrayal, I wasn’t killed or hunted for the past twenty years, and I’ve only heard a bit of what the Empire has done to the galaxy. My point of view is far from complete, I lost so much in being frozen. Too much to ever be able to give a proper opinion on the matter.”
“I understand,” Anakin says, “Regardless, I’m sorry. For my role, for my choices. For my words yesterday and my brash action.”

She inclines her head, “Thank you for that. I may never be able to form an opinion on things, but I would still care for you even if I could. I remember you, Anakin, as you had been, and I know you ultimately chose Luke. I’m not happy with you, but I still care for you deeply and I’m glad you found yourself again.”

“I have you to thank for that,” he says.

“No,” (Y/N) shakes her head and smiles, “It was entirely Luke’s idea.”
“I’m sure you helped him, (Y/N). You always knew the best thing to say. And there’s a reason why my son found you, the Force doesn’t do anything by accident. Luke needed you, so the Force made sure you got here.”
“I think you give me too much credit. But, I certainly didn’t encourage him to kill you,” she wiggles her finger at Obi-Wan, “Not everyone can say that.”

Anakin laughs good-naturedly.

“The two of you ganging up on me?” Obi-Wan asks, “Now it really feels like the old days.”

(Y/N) almost laughs. Twenty-three years of distance, differences, anger, resentment, sorrow, and here they are joking as if none of it had happened. But isn’t that always how they had been? Could Obi-Wan and (Y/N) not have a disagreement at lunch and be seated next to each other by dinner? Could Anakin not come to her lamenting about something Obi-Wan had said, only to start complimenting him halfway through his telling of the story? Taps had once taught her a phrase in Mando’a that meant ‘long memory, short fuse.’ An inverse of that phrase ‘long fuse, short memory’ felt like a fitting one for their trio. While never quick to jump into a disagreement, any misgivings or hurt feelings would always soon be forgotten when it did come to that point.

Even before this lighthearted moment between the three of them, Obi-Wan had already taken a step towards moving forward in showing Anakin the path that brought his spirit here. Her heart warms at the thought. Despite the counsel he had given Luke, it is undeniable that Obi-Wan had missed having Anakin at his side.

She smiles at Obi-Wan, “You think that’s ‘ganging up’ on you? You must have spent every second of those thirteen years feeling attacked.”

“Precisely, old friend.”

Her smile grows into a grin.

“Come on, Obi-Wan, like you didn’t give it even better than you got it,” Anakin mutters.

“Be nice, Anakin. Remember that you’ve provided us with over two decades worth of material since the last time we were all together,” she reminds him, “And you should be thanking Obi-Wan right now.”

“That would be a first,” Obi-Wan remarks.

“Will you-I’m on your side!” (Y/N) laughs, “He has more to thank you for than he does me. You made Luke a Jedi.”

“I believe you’ll find Yoda has that distinction,” he tells her.

“Yoda taught him how to use the Force,” she counters, “You’re the one who introduced him to our world, gave him Anakin’s lightsaber, and set him on the right path. And before that, you’re the one who watched over Luke and kept him safe for several years.”

“Nineteen,” Obi-Wan clarifies, “Nineteen dull years. I thought the trip to Tatooine when I stayed on Padmé’s ship the whole time was boring. It’s nothing compared to actually living there.”

“Oh, you poor thing.”

“(Y/N)’s right,” Anakin remarks, not commenting on her casual “I often am” and instead saying, “I owe you many thanks, Master. You’ve been a better guardian to Luke than I was a father. And I’m sure Bail did the same for Leia,” he is quiet for a moment before continuing, “…There are so many things I would do differently if I could go back in time. Family always meant so much to me...yet I lost all of you by my own hand.”

“You still have most us, in one way or another,” Obi-Wan offers kindly.

“I hope I do,” Anakin says quietly, “And I hope the galaxy finds a way to recover from what happened.”

“I’m sure it will. This is hardly the first war or huge political shakeup this galaxy has seen. It’s a tough old bird,” (Y/N) sighs, “It’s funny. To me, our lives before this... it all feels like a week ago. But somehow I still miss you both terribly. I wish we were together.”
As if it had just been waiting for her to speak her desire aloud, (Y/N) feels the Force open in front of her. It blooms like a flower in spring, layers spreading and curling outward like delicate petals and (Y/N) can see. 
She can see. 
She can see the dark trees and the light from the various fires behind her cast across them. She can see the individual leaves and branches. She looks down at her hands and can see every single detail, the folds of skin at her knuckles and the scars she gained from when her childhood home burned down around her and from fighting alongside the men before her. 
(Y/N) lifts her gaze and she can see two transparent older men standing before her. She has never seen either of them before, but she would be able to recognize her own heart anywhere. She would know who these two men were even without knowing what she does about the current situation.

They both look at her, eyes wide with surprise.

(Y/N) blinks at them, completely shocked by this turn of events. Her heart feels like it may burst, filled with overwhelming joy over getting to see her friends again. She says softly, “Hi, boys.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin’s appearances suddenly flicker like a holo with a bad connection. When they solidify, they look like they did twenty-three years ago.

If anyone could perceive all of this right now, this scene would look like something out of those holos the Republic used to try and garner support for the war effort with. 
The Force opens wider and (Y/N) can feel the very fabric of it more strongly than she ever has before. Colors shimmer in front of her, colors that have possibly never been seen by a living soul before. She knows instantly that she stands at the precipice of something incredibly powerful. And she further realizes that she could walk through this portal that has been opened before her if she desired. (Y/N) could take a step forward and be reunited with her friends. She could reclaim some semblance of the life that was stolen from her, or at least continue onward with those who were taken from her. She could leave all of this other stuff behind. She could leave her shattered vision and this broken galaxy behind. 
“We are together,” Obi-Wan tells her. 
“Regardless of what you choose,” Anakin adds as he examines the portal, no doubt trying to make sense of it with his usual practical, mechanic mindset. It’s an action that’s so typical of him it makes (Y/N) laugh quietly. Obi-Wan is also side-eyeing the portal, his own scientifically curious mind trying to figure out this phenomena. She shakes her head fondly even as she already knows what her decision will be. She loves them both dearly, but their company is not enough to tempt her to take that step. (Y/N)’s never been one to quit. She hadn’t clawed her way out of the grave that the hibernation sickness had tried to force her into, she hadn’t sunk her teeth into the whispers of life that remained in her body and forced that to be enough to keep her breathing just to turn around and willingly give herself up. 
(Y/N) smiles softly and says, “I’ll talk to the both of you later.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin both instantly return their full attention to her. She can see a sea of emotions in each set of blue eyes as she looks at their faces one last time. Each is already ingrained into her mind, into her very bones, but (Y/N) still takes the time to recommit every inch to memory as she wills this moment to last her a lifetime. Her one hand closes into a gentle fist and the Force follows her command, pulling away from her and curling back into itself.

Darkness creeps in from the sides of her vision and things begin to blur again as that white veil returns.

Obi-Wan and Anakin’s ghosts flicker back to their present, older versions and disappear from her sight between blinks. She can still sense that they are there even as their visages are lost to her again.

(Y/N) turns away, a small smile still on her face. She can see the blurry dancing silhouettes of the party and her hand feels for the wooden rail again. She walks forward, fingers trailing along a groove on the surface. Her eyes are drawn to Luke’s growing presence, just barely able to see the black of his clothing as he approaches her. He asks, “Good talk?”

“Yes,” she nods, “It was nice to see them again.”

“Did you? See them?”
(Y/N) blinks at him and then laughs. She asks, genuinely surprised that he pulled that off so effortlessly, “A blind joke? I knew you had a sense of humor!”
She thinks she can see a flash of white from his teeth as he smiles at her.

“To answer your question, yes, the Force granted me a small gift and allowed me to see them for a moment.”

“I’m glad,” he says as he guides her closer to the party with a hand on her back.

(Y/N) suddenly looks at him and says, “I’m sorry about Anakin. I just realized that I didn’t say so before,” her brow furrows slightly, irritated by how insensitive that was of her, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sorry he didn’t survive the ordeal, I know you wanted more time.”

“I’m just glad he’s at peace,” Luke answers quietly and with the maturity and wisdom of someone beyond his years, “Alive or dead, that’s really what I wanted for him. And I still have Leia.”

“The galaxy has a funny way of balancing itself out, doesn’t it?” she muses, “You lose one family member, you gain another. One entity falls and another will rise to take its place.”

“Another entity?”

“Well, yes. I imagine that will be the next thing for the Rebellion. The Empire fell, but government is necessary for the galaxy to function. After they’ve finished their celebration, it will be back to work. Only now they’ll be building something instead of trying to tear something down,” she looks at Luke, “What will be your next step in this new galaxy?”

Luke doesn’t immediately respond.

She scrunches her nose at herself and says, “Apologies. I know I have already asked you countless questions in our short time together, something you have handled with the utmost grace.”
“I don’t mind,” he says, “I just wasn’t expecting that question. Though I will say that your ability to read my mind is second only to your ability to find my eyes.”
Her one eyebrow quirks up slightly. He doesn’t immediately follow that up with anything, but (Y/N) doesn’t mind waiting. He does seem to genuinely be considering her question rather than just finding her incessant inquiries a nuisance and it is a bit of a heavy question to suddenly spring on him like this.

“Well,” he eventually says, “obviously we have to get rid of the Empire entirely.”

She hums, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

“After that...Master Yoda told me to pass on what I had learned. I think I’ll do just that. Train the next generation of Jedi.”

“A worthy cause.”

“What about you?”
She looks at the party as she confesses, “I’m not entirely sure. Rather hypocritical of me to ask you a question I don’t have an answer to myself, but alas. I was unexpectedly thrown into all of this, I don’t exactly have a place or a plan here yet. I’ve made it as far as finding somewhere to live where I can see the best I can, but I must admit that’s all I’ve got.”
Luke laughs lightly. He suddenly says, words coming out a bit more rushed than his usual cadence would have them, “You could stay with me and help me train new Jedi.”

She doesn’t immediately respond to that. She continues to look at the party, finding she cannot bring herself to look at Luke right now.

He continues, slower this time, “The last of the old and the first of the new. We’d make a good pair.”

Would they?

(Y/N) can’t help but ask, still not able to look at him, “Are you sure you want a Jedi of an extinct Order and fallen Republic having a hand in writing this next chapter of the Jedi?”

She looks down at her feet now, ashamed of herself in more than one way. She wonders if she’ll ever reclaim her faith. Her confidence in the Order, the Jedi, and herself are still so shaken over what had occurred. She doubts her abilities and knowledge, and fears that anything she would touch in Luke’s new Order would ultimately turn to ruin.

“Absolutely,” Luke says without a hint of falsehood. 
(Y/N)’s gaze lifts in surprise at that. She forgets her shame and shyness in an instant and looks at him. It’s instinctive, she thinks, nothing more than that. It’s just muscle memory telling her to look at his face to search for a lie, her mind temporarily forgetting how such an action has been rendered useless to her now. 
“Are you sure you can’t see me?” Luke asks skeptically.

Yes, she’s sure. Even without their dark surroundings which serve only to exacerbate her condition, (Y/N) will never be able to perceive enough of his face to properly see it, never mind read it while in the search for something like a lie.

And yet…there’s a part of her that can’t help but think that she’s perhaps never seen someone as clearly as she sees Luke.

(Y/N) hums quietly and then tells him, “I see you in the way that matters.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) figures she’s quite the disappointment.

She’s a walking, talking, breathing piece of history. A living relic from a time where there were many like her, now existing in a time where there are few. Mon had been so thrilled to see her, and she’s since come to find that the sentiment is shared by many others. (Y/N) imagines they look at her with hope in their eyes as they yearn for simpler times when they had countless Jedi within reach, believing they could find that again through her.

How disappointed they must be at the sight of her. The mythical, god-like Jedi that had done so much for the Republic. Now nothing but one woman, simultaneously older than her face implies and yet not as experienced as her age would, unable to meet their hopeful gazes because of what the carbonite had stolen from her.

The leaders of the Rebellion invite her to attend a meeting after departing from Endor, no doubt eager to catch a glimpse of the fabled Jedi of yesterday and hoping to recapture some of that feeling of mysticism and limitless-ness. Having left the fleet so shortly after getting out of the bacta tank, (Y/N) had managed to avoid most of the Rebellion and its more important members so far. With more pressing issues at hand at the time, this lapse hadn’t weighed heavy on anyone’s mind. But with such a fatal blow having been dealt to the Empire and the conflict temporarily abated as a result, these introductions are finally made. She loses track of how many hands she shakes, how many new names are thrown at her. And then, after hardly being given a moment to find her bearings, the meeting commences. The subject of that meeting is quickly made clear: her role in the Rebellion’s continued efforts against the Empire.

They sound eager to put her back to work and are quick to make assurances that her disability will not be an issue. Funny thing for others to be telling her.

In that meeting, as she is bombarded with information and strategy, (Y/N) actually feels like her true age for once. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over her, strong enough to almost make her legs fold under her. Back amongst the breathing for just a few days and already being made a tool for others and being prepped to be sent out on missions.

When there is a lull, an unspoken, even unintentional pause for her confirmation that she will happily be sent off to battle, (Y/N) does not speak right away. She does not offer a close-lipped salute and take her marching orders without further consideration of them. She had done that already. That’s what the three years leading to her being frozen in carbonite had consisted of. And where had that gotten her? Where had it gotten the Jedi Order?

Luke shifts beside her as he notices her hesitation before anyone else. He doesn’t speak and he doesn’t need her to say anything either. He sees her in the way that matters too, and seems to know what she will say before the words form. Her unseeing eyes meet his gaze briefly. She isn’t sure what Luke sees in her white eyes, but he knows her mind and does not deny her it.

When (Y/N) does finally speak, she says only, “I’m tired of fighting.”

A compounding of disappointment. Insult to injury. The once proud and mighty Jedi now nothing more than a blind woman. A blind woman who, instead being dismissive of her disability and eagerly rolling up her sleeves to get to work, refuses to fight.

A perfect storm of a let down.

If they had believed her blindness or refusal to fight would also make her meek, they soon find themselves to be gravely mistaken. (Y/N) had dismissed her instincts before and she, the Order, and the galaxy had all suffered for it. She doesn’t know if voicing her concerns earlier would have changed things. Sometimes there is no stopping the hand of fate. Palpatine had been laying plans for decades before the war, far before (Y/N) had started to doubt. Perhaps she would have just spun her wheels for a few years and then still ended up in the carbonite. Or dead by the hand of a clone. She will never know for certain if she could have changed what happened, and so she will always carry irreparable guilt over it.

What (Y/N) does know for certain is that she will not make the same mistakes again. She will make use of that guilt instead of just allowing it to weigh her down.

When the others in the room try to change her mind, barter for concessions, lobby for compromise, she stands firm. (Y/N) would play no part in the fight between the Empire and the Rebellion. She would have no role in reinstating the Republic. The Jedi Order is meant to be a separate entity. And even if she is all that remains of said entity, (Y/N) will uphold this tradition.

Her stubbornness does not go over well. Some accept it, some resign themselves to it, but most try to fight it. She had fought on Endor, one person points out, what is just a little more? The Empire is already back on its heels and falling apart without its leader, it will not be long now before it collapses entirely. But, oh, hadn’t she heard that before. It won’t be long now. It won’t be long now before Dooku is captured. It won’t be long now before Grievous is dead. Dooku is gone, it won’t be long now before the Separatists collapse entirely. It won’t be long now before the war is over.

It is Luke who speaks up then. He claims, in a bold-faced lie, that her role on Endor had been separate from the Rebellion’s mission. She had joined Han’s team so Luke could carry out his own mission of eliminating Vader and Palpatine, two Sith, as threats. He claims that it was an understanding between the two Jedi that (Y/N) would assist with the destruction of the generator so Luke would be free to pursue the Sith. It had been strictly Jedi business, the likes of which (Y/N) would continue to have a part in as Luke reestablishes the Jedi Order…and therefore completely separate from the Rebellion, the Empire, and the Republic.

He then affirms that (Y/N)’s decision on the matter was to be hers and hers alone. He leaves little room for argument with the conviction of his words and tone of voice. She only wishes that she could have seen his face as he addressed the room.

And that was that. She knows many are still displeased with her choice, but at least they bite their tongues in the face of Luke backing her.

“I’m sorry that I am not what you hoped I would be,” (Y/N) tells him quietly as they leave the room, fingers flexing against his arm. Even if she would not waver, and is grateful for his equally unwavering support, she still feels guilty. When Luke had unfrozen her from the carbonite, surely this isn’t what he had expected. When he had discovered another Jedi, surely he had imagined something better than her.

“You are more than it,” Luke replies. 
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s fingers reach out to tap Luke’s hand, “Would you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“How do you know something’s bothering me?” Luke is too quick to ask that question, too defensive. It confirms what she already knows.

“Your thoughts are loud,” she informs him, “I don’t pry, but they’re giving me a migraine all the same. If it’s something about me, I prefer honesty. If it’s not, I’d like to help if I can.”

He is quiet for a beat and (Y/N) is tempted to tap his hand once more as his thoughts only seem to become more agitated. She decides to be patient instead, withdrawing her hand back to her own space and returning to what remains of her meal. Her spoon lightly scraps against the bowl as she gathers the last of the soup. A vaguely crescent-shaped beige blur sits on her tray, what is left of her roll.

“I have to leave,” Luke finally tells her.

(Y/N) plucks the roll from the tray and asks easily, “To go where?”

“I’m not sure yet. But the fight isn’t over so I still have work to do.”

“Okay?” She doesn’t understand how this is causing him so much strife.

“Well, I just,” Luke says, words stilted, “…We’ve been together since Endor.”

Her head turns, mouth twisting slightly. Is he trying to convince her to come with him?

He continues, “I’m just…hesitant, I suppose, to leave you alone.”

(Y/N) feels the small amount of tension drain from her spine as quickly as it had developed. She smiles pleasantly, “That’s what has you so worried? That I won’t be alright on my own?”

She laughs, light not unkind, before he can answer her and continues, “I’ll survive, Luke. I survived quite a bit in my lifetime, I can surely manage you leaving. I’m not quite so helpless.”

“I don’t think you’re helpless,” Luke is quick to tell her.

“Well that’s reassuring,” she remarks, able to sense that he is telling the truth. The last thing she wants is pity. Or for Luke to consider her as someone in need of constant care and supervision.

“I support your decision to step away from the conflict,” he says, “I was a rebel before I was a Jedi, so I need to see this through.”

(Y/N) nods silently. She understands that and doesn’t think less of him for continuing to fight even if she isn’t. He is a man of his word. That’s something to be commended for, not condemned.

“The sooner the Empire is gone, the better off the entire galaxy will be,” Luke continues, “I need to do my part and then I’ll be able to focus on the Order.”

It sounds as if he’s trying to convince her, or perhaps both of them, that this is the right way to go about things. Or perhaps he just wishes to assure her that he hasn’t forgotten about the commitment they both had made towards rebuilding the Jedi Order.

“We walk different paths, Luke,” she says, “but we will reach the same destination in the end. You don’t need my permission, but you do have my full support in this. Go give them hell, I’ll be here when you get back.”
 
***
 
The Empire will not be going down without a fight. This is not an enemy defeated with one blow, no matter how devastating of a blow it might have been. No, this will be a death by exsanguination. Only a complete eradication will get the job done. (Y/N) is pleased that the Rebellion is seeing to that properly, rather than making the same mistake that the Empire did by underestimating its enemy. Most of the Rebellion’s forces are out in the galaxy, rallying others to the cause and fighting to destroy remnants of the old order. There is also a faction that has traveled to Coruscant, which has seen open rebellion from its own population since the news of Palpatine’s death reached the planet, to seize control there. She hears from many that the rest of the Rebellion will get there eventually. (Y/N) isn’t quite sure how she feels about returning to Coruscant, knowing how different it will be from the one that exists now only in memory, but will go all the same.

She is given free reign of any ship she is on, so (Y/N) often finds herself sitting in on meetings or standing on the bridge as reports from battles come in. She knows she receives many side-eyes and that some here consider her selfish. They know who she is without needing an introduction. A Jedi returning from the dead, because that’s essentially what she is, is not something one keeps to themselves. No, the tale of her unfreezing has spread like wildfire. Her own damn pride is partially to blame for that, as she had been the one running off to battle just days after being freed from the carbonite and appearing utterly unfazed by her blindness. Her story and her actions have given her notoriety amongst the rebels, only for her to now not be fighting and just observing the war from the sidelines. But (Y/N) refuses to be cajoled into changing her mind. She has spent too long worrying about what others think of her. That, among other things, is at an end. She is determined to learn from her mistakes so they will not be repeated.

As Luke had told her, he and the others go off to fight battles, working to weed out the remaining strongholds of the Empire.

When they aren’t away from the fleet, (Y/N) finds herself seldom without their company. She is genuinely touched to have been so easily welcomed into this small group and cannot help but notice the similarities between them and her, Anakin, and Obi-Wan. Han and Lando bicker like an old married couple, especially when it comes to the Falcon. Luke and Leia may have only just learned about their familial connection, but caring for each other is nothing new. Lando and Luke, despite not having known each other for long, get along so well it feels as though they’re lifelong friends. Han and Leia also argue like an old married couple despite having only recently officially kindled a romantic relationship. Lando and Leia operate on an eerily similar wavelength. Luke and Han’s friendship seems completely unaffected by the stereotypically awkward arrangement of a best friend dating the other’s sister.

Lando had been sure to point out the arrangement to her and asked if, as a close friend of Leia’s father, she shouldn’t be having a ‘talk’ of some sort with Han. (Y/N) is convinced he mainly asked that question just because he would get a laugh out of Han being threatened by a Jedi. In response to his inquiry, she had only said, “Leia can take care of herself. Anything I could say would be redundant.”

Which is true. Leia’s fully capable of putting Han’s balls in a vice all by herself if the man is foolish enough to ruin things.

But then there’s also the fact that it would be a tad hypocritical for (Y/N) to posture about defending Leia’s honor due to her friendship with Anakin when she might possibly, slightly, maybe, sort of have the hots for Luke.

But that’s neither here nor there.

(Y/N) has been accepted into their dynamic as if she had always been there, and finds she is happiest when everyone is on one ship together. Unfortunately, that is a rare thing because this little group is intrinsically vital to the Rebellion’s efforts. And it both warms and breaks her heart knowing how proud Anakin and Padmé would be of their children. But whenever one of her new companions is onboard, they stay close when not busy. Luke, in particular, is practically attached to her hip whenever he finds himself on the same ship as her. He loves to pick her brain for information about his parents and Obi-Wan. These were people he knew only fleetingly, if at all, and yet still had such a huge impact on his life. Luke is understandably eager to learn about them and (Y/N) is happy to indulge him. She knows he has always treasured what she shared, but can also tell that he holds her tales about Anakin even closer to his heart now that he knows the man in them exists beyond her memories.

She knows that, even if he doesn’t say it, Luke does wonder at times if things would have turned out differently if (Y/N) hadn’t been frozen. She cannot fault him for this, for it is a very reasonable thing to ask, but it is the one question of his that she cannot offer an answer to. She knows that question will haunt her for the rest of her life, and likely her afterlife as well.

Leia does occasionally ask her about Anakin and Padmé, much more the latter than the former, but (Y/N) does not fault her for her hesitancy. While Leia accepts Luke as her brother as easily as she would if they had never been separated and he had grown up alongside her on Alderaan, she holds her birth parents at an arm's length. Leia has made the very clear distinction in her mind between her parents and her birth parents, and this is not something to judge her for and so (Y/N) doesn’t.

“She has family on Naboo. I think they’re in Theed,” (Y/N)’s brow furrows as she tries to recall their names, “I’m sorry to say I don’t know much of her background. She was my friend but there was so much going on we never really had the time to discuss the past.”

“I’ll take anything you’ve got,” Leia tells her.

She smiles sadly, gaze lowering. Where does one even begin when talking about such an amazing woman? Where does one start when telling another about their own mother that they will never know?

“Padmé was one of the most compassionate people I have ever met. She dedicated her life to public service and trying to help as many people as possible. She didn’t have the Force, but that never seemed to slow her down. Padmé’s gift was her words and she wielded them as expertly as she did a blaster.”

They cannot always be with her, though, so (Y/N) has also managed to befriend a few others amongst the Rebellion. Some are familiar faces, not that she can actually see said faces, or at least familiar names from before. Some are entirely new, there are many here that are too young to remember the Republic aside from stories told by others. Rex also seeks her out whenever he can.

But of everyone, it is R2 that is most often at her side. He wheels down the halls of the various ships she is shuffled to, guiding her to destinations until she memorizes the way. It is his whistles that help her fingers find the correct button on an elevator and his beeps that tell her more about what she has missed. Twenty-three years have passed since the droid last saw her, and he is determined to tell her about every second of it.

He tells her things that no one else is left to know about the final days of the Republic. They shatter her heart over and over again but (Y/N) still devours ever morsel of information that he can provide. Anakin’s elation over Padmé’s pregnancy turning to fear as nightmares, or visions, plagued him. Padmé’s growing concerns about the state of the Republic, the meetings she had with others like Mon and Bail. The way that R2 knew something was very wrong when Anakin stopped talking to him. How the man had only broken his silence to tell R2 to stay by the ship on Mustafar, and how he never came back. Helping 3PO get Padmé back onto her own ship. Obi-Wan returning to the ship, without Anakin, clothing singed and expression one of devastation. Padmé’s cries as she gave birth. The fact that she never even got to hold her children before dying. Obi-Wan being the one to cradle Luke and then Leia, bringing them close to Padmé so she could at least see their faces as she named them.

It is R2 that is by her side as she mourns, when his stories leave her unable to get out of bed as she comes to terms with the sheer amount of suffering those dearest to her had endured. It is his warbles of apology that she waves off, knowing it is better that she hear the tragic tale than go on not knowing. 
(Y/N) does not know who it is she prays to, but she prays all the same. Let their pain serve a purpose beyond furthering Palpatine’s agenda. Let it guide (Y/N) into this next part of her life and make her wiser as she tries to help Luke rebuild. 
She had been compelled to push aside all that was revealed to her after being unfrozen. In part because of the sheer quantity of information, in part because of the mentality she had needed to adopt during the war of never letting anything linger in her mind because she had to constantly keep moving onto the next task, and in part because she had been so determined to assist those around her and finish this damn fight. She had put a pin in most of what she had learned, intending to wade through it later. 
Now that she has stepped back from the fighting and ‘later’ has become ‘now’, (Y/N) spends most of her time just trying to process everything that has occurred. 
There had always been something to do, a next mission, a next fight. She hasn’t had a moment for herself in decades. Going to Geonosis to save her friends. Reporting for assignment as warships amassed on Coruscant. Dead soldiers. Dead Jedi. Dead civilians. Worlds set ablaze. Fighting while injured or tired or sick to her stomach with doubt and grief because if she didn’t then more people would die. New faces replacing the ones lost. Sitting in on Council meetings with the heavy knowledge that she was a contingency plan, knowing it was possible at any moment that one of the other people in the room would not be in the next meeting. Shaak dying. Being frozen in carbonite. Waking up, blind and lost. Learning what had become of those she loved. Going to Endor and picking up right where she had left off. Burning her friend’s body. 
It had been never-ending. One thing after another. Unrelenting. Until now. 
And for the first time in twenty-six years, nearly three decades, (Y/N) just lets herself fucking breathe. She lets herself process what has happened and tries to find a way to cope with her grief.

A part of her whispers that she hasn’t breathed since her parents were murdered.

(Y/N) is determined to bounce back from all that has occurred, from everything that has tried to and still tries to pull her down. Luke continues to insist he wants her assistance in forming the new Order, and so she is determined to do so to the best of her abilities. Let all of this forge her into a better version of herself so she may help create something even better still.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) lifts her head slowly, eyes tracing over the blurry silhouette. The positioning of the sun helps greatly, backlighting the building in a way that makes it much easier to make out the shape, but she truly doesn’t need it to know where she is. There’s only two places in the galaxy that she had ever called home. The first had been taken from her at such a young age that she can no longer really remember it. The second is the building that stands before her. She climbs the stairs towards it with ease. She had acquired a walking aid shortly after arriving on Coruscant. It’s a rather simple cane, she’s never been one to favor flare over functionality, with a hook to attach it to her belt on the opposite side of her lightsaber and a button to easily retract it to a more manageable size. It currently rests on her hip. She has no need for it here, she knows the Jedi Temple like the back of her hand. She could probably walk the entire campus with a blindfold on and not stumble even once. Luke’s arm is warm where it is tucked around her own. (Y/N) has no physical need for him, but still wishes to be in contact with him. He serves as an anchor right now, keeping her tethered to the present as she is bombarded with unpleasant sensations. She must make a noise conveying her discomfort because Luke asks, “Are you alright?”(Y/N)’s free hand flexes by her side, “I…hmm. I don’t like the feeling of it.”“Of what?”“Don’t you sense it? Or at least part of it?”The Jedi Temple has changed. She used to be able to sense countless individuals within, each with their own strong and unique presence in the Force. They had created a symphony, a patchwork quilt, a collage, a swirling collection of life. The Temple had been warm and wild and brimming with life. A raging fire that warmed (Y/N) down to her bones just by being near it. That fire has gone out. The flames have been doused, smothered completely, with not even glowing embers to be found in the ash. Not even smoke, a lingering sign that there had once been something here, can be found. No. It’s all gone. The Temple is cold and barren and lifeless. It’s deserted. There’s no hint that the inferno had once existed. Luke cannot sense this change because he hadn’t lived during the time when that fire burned. He doesn’t know to miss it. Anakin and his troops had massacred the Jedi here, the execution of Jedi across the galaxy had been initiated and carried out all before Luke drew his first breath. He cannot sense this change because the empty shell before them is all he has ever known. What he should be able to sense is the icky wrongness that still lingers on the planet. It is a stain left by the dark side and its wielder that had resided here for decades. (Y/N) wants to kick herself. How had no one ever sensed such a vile, perverted presence? How had Palpatine managed to hide himself from the Force so well that not even one of the countless Jedi at the Temple had been able to detect what was right under their noses?That nastiness, that cold…thing lurks at the back of her mind. It curls around the corners of her vision, leeching away the warm of the sun. Even the air feels still. Palpatine is dead but he had been on Coruscant too long for the ghost of his presence to have faded yet. It tickles the back of her throat and sits bitter on her tongue. Swallowing does nothing to dispel the feeling. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, urging her to look over her shoulder to see what looms just out of view. Luke should be able to feel this as well. Even if he cannot necessarily recognize what exactly he senses, he had been in Palpatine’s actual presence before so he should be able to at least feel an unnerving sense of familiarity towards it. “Yes,” Luke says, “I sense it. It was worse on the Death Star. It was…heavier. Oppressive.”She shivers at the thought. (Y/N) had been in the presence of Sith before, but she knows Palpatine was the cream of the crop when it came to rancid Force vibes and likely blew what she had sensed from someone like Dooku or Asajj out of the water. She had been lucky enough to never encounter Palpatine when he wasn’t concealing his true nature, but even just his lingering presence is enough to churn her stomach and unsettle her nerves. She can only imagine how it felt actually being before the man himself and being unrelentingly assaulted by his presence. “That doesn’t sound fun,” is her weak remark. “It wasn’t,” he confirms, either not minding her comment or finding it amusing, “It made it hard to think at times.”(Y/N) absently hums in thought. There’s no way to cover all that the Temple entails in one visit, so she doesn’t even try. There’s no rhyme or reason to where she takes Luke, there’s no methodical sweep of each wing and level. She bounces around seemingly at random, taking him to the areas she is most fond of or familiar with. The main halls, over to her favorite meditation room, then up to the High Council room. The chairs are long gone, but (Y/N) still remembers the arrangement. She walks around the circle, listing the Jedi that would have sat there. When she reaches Obi-Wan’s spot, Luke offers, “At least he had a nice view during his brief time sitting backwards,” which draws a laugh from her. She labels one particular seat as Shaak’s until she has completed her turn about the room, only then turning back towards it. She walks across the yellow design on the floor and comes to stand in its place, head lowering. She explains, “After Shaak’s passing, this would have been my seat. I imagine this is where Anakin sat during the meetings held during the final days of the Republic.”“Where did you sit before that?” Luke asks from where he remains by the door. “Wherever was available during a given session,” her unseeing eyes flicker around the room, “Nothing so permanent as this would have been once I was really on the Council.”(Y/N) walks towards him, but pauses briefly at the center of the room. The intricacy of the detailing is lost to her now, but she can still make out the red inner part of the floor design. She can remember her head lowering to stare at the tops of her flimsy shoes to avoid the critical gazes of the Jedi when Shaak had brought her to this room for the first time. She looks over at where Yoda’s chair had sat, easily recalling his words that had felt so cold and unfeeling to her at a time when she had been expecting sympathy. That had been the first domino in the chain of (Y/N) learning to set aside her emotions and focus only on moving forward. She sighs and leaves the center of the room, reaching Luke’s side in just a few steps. (Y/N) takes him back down to the training room she had her first lesson in, over to the room Anakin preferred to spar in, doubling back to the cafeteria she most often frequented. Each location comes with a story or two, even the corridors between carry memories that she is happy to share. The hall where she first met Anakin, the staircase that was her and Obi-Wan’s designated meeting place when they had plans to leave the Temple. A window sill she favored and had always been a tried and true spot for Shaak to check when searching for her. She takes him to the Temple Library and listens to Luke’s excited amazement at the sheer quantity of information stored within. They walk down the blue, blurred aisles as she rattles off information about these vast rooms. “What are these busts?” Luke asks suddenly. (Y/N) brings them to a stop at the closest one as she answers, “They depict the most well-known Jedi in the history of the Order. Yoda is here somewhere, as well as Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan’s Master. There are also the Lost Twenty, the Jedi that have voluntarily left the Order over ideological differences.”“Really? That seems…odd.”“How so?” “I don’t understand why you’d make busts of that. What is that supposed to accomplish?”“They’re meant to serve as a reminder of our imperfection, not to be a mark against the Jedi depicted,” she explains, reaching out to touch the plaque on the pedestal that the bust sits on, “We list their greatest deeds, not their shortcomings or reason for defection. They’re to be revered and respected, not slandered or dismissed. It shows that even someone so accomplished can still not align with the Order’s path. It’s meant to encourage self-reflection and analytical thinking.”Luke is quiet for a moment as he considers what she said before offering, “It still seems odd.”“Perhaps,” she concedes. “And that doesn’t sound much like the Order you described,” he adds. (Y/N) nods, “I know. The environment I describe didn’t come to be until after the war started. The Order I grew up in was very different from the one that existed during the war,” she sighs, “Even that had not been perfect. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and looking back I can more easily see signs of what had been developing. It was a slow burn, predating any of Palpatine’s machinations. The Jedi most certainly had a hand in their own downfall.”“I see.”Her gaze lifts to the bronzium bust, the Jedi commemorated unidentifiable due to her broken sight, “I don’t mean to be so disenchanted or negative when I talk about the Order. The version I fixate on…it wasn’t always like that. I wasn’t always like this.”“Hey,” Luke says, arm tightening around hers, “you don’t need to apologize. The Order was flawed, I could see that before ever speaking to you. I’m glad that you can also recognize that instead of blindly clinging to flawed ideology. And it sounds like the rest of the Jedi would also have been glad seeing as they’d taken the time to honor other dissenters in such a manner. Maybe we should make a twenty-first bust.”Her cheeks burn as she says dismissively, “You’re too generous,” and then taps the podium, asking, “Who is this?” Luke easily accepts the change in subject and provides, “Master Phanius.”“Ah,” she squints at the bust to try and pick out the features amongst the bronze metal. “You don’t sound like a big fan,” he observes. Her lips purse briefly, “I admit that I am not. I once told you that the Jedi did not have a strong sense of self.”“I remember. The Order was a community.”“Yes. Master Phanius left the Order because he disagreed with that philosophy. He believed his will superseded everything else in existence, even going so far as to say he and his will were the only things to truly exist at all.”He makes a judgmental noise beside her and says flatly, “Humble guy.”A smile pulls at her lips, “Quite. After leaving, his pursuit of his own individualistic ideology led to his fall to the dark side. He became Darth Ruin, and brought about a resurgence of the Sith and a subsequent war. He was eventually killed by his own followers.”Luke clicks his tongue, “I have to say, I’m struggling to find a way to revere him.”“Ditto,” she pulls at his arm, “Come with me.”“Where are we going?” he almost whines, “We just got here.”“You could spend the rest of your life in the archives and still not read it all. We can come back another day, I want to show you my quarters.”“Oh, neat!” Luke is suddenly much more agreeable to her taking him from the library, “I was starting to think I might not get to see them.”She grins, “What? Thought there was some ‘no boys allowed’ rule I was sticking to?”“Nothing would surprise me at this point.”“I highly doubt that, but I can assure you no such rule exists. And it would be one I’ve long since broken if it did.”“Oh, really?” Luke asks, tone mischievous, “Were you not as devout a follower as you have led me to believe?”“No, no,” she laughs, reaching over to swat his arm, “Nothing like that. I mean that Obi-Wan and Anakin were both in there plenty of times. It was a safe haven for both of them, particularly if they were trying to avoid the other over some silly tiff. The funniest times were when they’d inadvertently end up there at the same time.”“Did they fight often?”“No, I wouldn’t say so. And it was rarely a true ‘fight’ when they did. Typically it was just a minor disagreement of some sort. It was unavoidable given the difference in upbringing and the age gap, not to mention their personalities at times seemed designed to clash. But they got along most of the time, and always found themselves on common ground when it really mattered.”“But my father kept the true extent of his relationship with my mother from Ben,” Luke points out. “Yes,” she concedes, “I was speaking more of the war, I suppose, the times that ‘really matter’ being when lives were on the line. They were difficult to beat on their own, but it was all but impossible when they were together. Differences in ideology didn’t matter on the battlefield.”“He had no qualms about telling you, though.”“True. I was more understanding than Obi-Wan in that sense, more willing to question and even bend the rules. A role I often played was the middleman. On any matter that Anakin and Obi-Wan were polarized, you could typically kind me at the halfway point between them.”“I see.”They turn the corner and she says, “This one here,” pointing to the second door on the left, “This was mine.”(Y/N) leads him into her old room and her free hand easily finds the switch to turn on the light. The window had already offered some lighting, but she wants as much as she can get. The room is as she remembered it. Fit to house a single individual with little material possession. Quaint, some would call it. There’s a small shelving unit by the window which had once housed a few plants. Unfortunately with no one here to tend to them, they have all withered away to nothing so now just empty pots of dry dirt remain. Her bed is still here and appears to have gone undisturbed according to her shoddy vision. Her small wardrobe and dresser are still tucked in the corner. She brushes her fingers over the top of the dresser, feeling decades worth of dust clinging to her fingertips. She flicks it away as she turns back to face Luke. “It’s small,” is all he has to say. She laughs lightly, “Yes, I’d say so. But it never really felt like it. There isn’t much to cause clutter.”He walks closer to her, remarking, “I didn’t know you drank tea.”(Y/N) smiles, hand reaching out to touch the kettle that rests on the dresser. The metal is cool to the touch even as its presence warms her heart, “I don’t. Obi-Wan gave this to me in hopes of me developing a taste for it. It never took. I could never understand the appeal of that hot leaf water he always drank. And with the war, Anakin and I became caf addicts and that ruined any chance of me being a tea drinker.”“Ah.”“We did have the same taste in liquor, though,” she muses.Luke laughs in disbelief, “You drink alcohol?”“I was in what was essentially an all-male army. Of course I drink.”He laughs again. She can just barely see him reach over to touch something on the dresser, “What are these?”(Y/N) smiles to herself as she reaches out as well, already knowing what her hand will find, “Anakin made these for me.”She plucks one of the small figurines from the surface, turning it over in her hands as she tries to identify it. A-ha! Her fingers still briefly before tracing back over a large horn. The reek who had snuck it’s way into her room shortly after the debacle of Geonosis. “He always liked to carve things for as long as I had known him,” (Y/N) continues, “I complimented his ability once and quickly became the recipient of many of his works. There’s a bantha there somewhere, that was the first one I got. I’ve never seen a real one, but I know they’re fairly large and live on Tatooine. After he started traveling the galaxy, I got creatures from all corners of it.”She sets the reek down and reaches out to find another. The nearest is the angel from Iego, she can tell immediately by the broad wings on the back. She finds the gundark, gutkurr, and zillo beast next, a trio she had always kept close together as she had received them in rapid succession. After being frozen in carbonite, Anakin’s restlessness had gotten drastically worse. In his desperation to keep his hands moving, (Y/N) had been gifted several figurines in just a few short weeks as opposed to the months that typically passed between them sneaking into her room. She continues her search, seeking out one in particular. “I think this one’s broken,” Luke suddenly tells her. (Y/N)’s hand turns over so her palm is up, open and expectant. Luke places one of the figurines into her hand and she immediately recognizes it from the various thin ends poking into her flesh. The corners of her mouth pull down. This is the one she had been looking for, one of her favorites given the skill that had been required to sculpt the thin legs. An acklay, inspired by the one that had seemed to have a personal vendetta against Obi-Wan in that arena. Luke presses the leg that had broken off at some point into her other hand. She sighs quietly, “That’s a shame. I really liked this one.”As her fingers fumble to find the space where the leg had once been, Luke offers, “I’m no sculptor, but I’m certain we could get some wood glue and put it back together.”Warmth gathers in her chest, happy that he would take the time to repair her little trinket. It’s unlikely she would have managed to fix the leg on her own. “What’s this one?”(Y/N) carefully sets her beloved acklay back down and holds out her hand expectantly once more. “It seems like quite the beast,” Luke observes, “I’m curious as to whether my father actually encountered it or not.”(Y/N) turns the figurine over and over in her hands, frowning in confusion. The body is large, there are four powerful limbs. She can feel two curved horns on the head. It doesn’t feel familiar. She racks her brain, rattling off the various figurines in her possession and trying to determine which one this could be. Her eyes squint as she lifts the unidentified creature to her face. “I…I don’t know. I’ve never seen this one before,” she brushes her thumb over the horns, “He must have put it here after I was frozen.”Her heart aches at the thought. Anakin, no doubt racked with guilt even though it had been her choice to put herself in harm’s way, whittling away at the wood and then putting the new creation in her room as if that alone could bring her back. She brushes her finger down the spine of the still unknown creature and then sets it back down. “You may have one, if you’d like. I have plenty.”“No, he made them for you. But thank you.”She nods, accepting that, “Very well. You can always come visit them,” her hand leaves the top of the dresser to curl around Luke’s arm, “Shall we go?”“Sure. I’d like to come back another day.”“Of course. There’s still much to see, even outside of the archives.”(Y/N) takes him back to the main entrance, reveling in being the guide of their duo for once. Before they can leave the quiet peacefulness of the Temple and return to the loud everything-ness of Coruscant, she pulls on his arm lightly to make them both stop. She looks at him and asks, “Can I offer you some advice?”“Of course,” Luke says immediately, “I always appreciate any insight you have.”Her fingers flex by her side, “Do not allow your Order to be swept up into politics. Keep it separate. I don’t want what happened here to ever happen again.”“You believe the Order’s involvement is what led to its downfall?”She nods, “It’s a large part. By entering the war we put ourselves in the direct line of fire, quite literally. Unfortunately, Palpatine was laying the groundwork for our destruction long before the war began. If not for our hubris, perhaps his plans could have been foiled. Pride is another thing I will discourage, though we can discuss that later. I don’t want to put too big a damper the day. I just…needed to say that little piece for my own peace.” “I understand,” Luke assures her, “I don’t want this to ever happen again either.” *** (Y/N) bounces her leg just to give herself something to do. Her mind wanders aimlessly as she watches the blurry sun sink lower in the sky. She can sense Luke inside, which serves as a slight balm to her nerves but not very much. After finally getting to Coruscant, Leia had been quick to use her connections to find them housing. They’ve been placed in an apartment building that, while not nearly as extravagant as Padmé’s residence had been, is certainly very upper class. (Y/N) is rooming with Luke for the simple reason of her needing someone to help with most tasks. She supposes a droid could have been used if she were on her own as R2 and 3PO have both made it clear that they are eager to and capable of offering assistance, but in truth she doesn’t want to be alone. She had spent enough time by herself, now she wants to be near someone friendly and alive. Luke had been all for the arrangement as well, happy that their little group was all placed near each other and not wanting for much besides that. He’s proven to be a damn good roommate too, and has not complained even once about having to do almost all of the cooking. (Y/N)’s not exactly built for that task now, but she does try to help where she can: stirring and chopping brightly colored ingredients. She’s sure her skills will develop with time, but for now she just does what little she can.The apartment is entirely too big for just one person anyway, which leaves plenty of room for herself and Luke to coexist without stepping on each other’s toes or invading privacy. (Y/N) has her own bedroom, bathroom, and some living space all to her own, all of which is separated from Luke’s by some communal space in between. If it was her desire, she could largely avoid him outside of meals and the occasional passing by. Not that she wants to do that, as she is more than happy to spend her time in the common space of the apartment and engage in conversation with him, but the theoretical ability to exist largely separate from each other keeps (Y/N) from feeling like a burden or intrusion. She has new clothing as well. (Y/N) had never given much thought to her own wardrobe before and so she had left this task to Leia to handle. She cared little about the style, fabric, color, or anything about clothing really. Her only requirement had been that they be practical. When Leia had insisted on at least a preference in terms of color, (Y/N) had only said, “Anything but beige or grey. I’ve spent half of my life in beige and the other in grey.” While no one is without a favorite color or at least the common sense to recognize when a particular shade looked good on them, she had truly trusted Leia’s eye more than her own to determine what would look best at this point. The closet in her bedroom now has a variety of colors within it, though the main one seems to be blue. (Y/N) hadn’t known until the moment of reveal that she liked blue so much, but she had been incredibly pleased with the selection Leia had made. The color felt like a fitting tribute to Obi-Wan and Anakin to go along with her necklace for Shaak. If that had been Leia’s thinking behind the choice, then kudos to her. The style is lost to (Y/N), but she can clearly tell from touch alone that it is different from her old Jedi robes which is all she really cares about. Lando has told her that the cut is similar to what Luke wears, not that this comparison means anything to her since she doesn’t know anything about Luke’s clothing beyond his apparent preference of black, and has also said that the blue mixed with her white eyes makes her look ‘hauntingly beautiful’. Which, of course, had made her face burn red hot even if ‘hauntingly’ isn’t a word commonly used in a compliment. There are also a few more formal options, though (Y/N) doubts she will ever actually wear them, and a yellow jacket that is probably her favorite article in the whole wardrobe. And it is her favorite solely because Han goes out of his way to compliment her every time he sees her in it, which in turns makes Luke even more flustered than he already is whenever she wears it. Given the imperfect fit, in stark contrast to the rest of her new clothing that seemed to be tailored to her body specifically, (Y/N) would assume the yellow jacket is hand-me-down from one of them. She can’t help but beam everytime she puts it on. The glass door opens behind her, pulling her from her train of thought, and Luke announces his presence with a “I found you.”(Y/N) looks over her shoulder as he steps out onto the balcony. She offers a small smile, “I hadn’t realized I’d gone missing. If you called, I didn’t hear,” lifting a hand to indicate the constant roar of engines and horns that comes from the many lanes of traffic nearby. “I didn’t,” he says and then asks, “Aren’t you cold?”She hums, “A bit, but I like the breeze.” It reminds her that she’s still alive. Luke moves to take the other seat and she looks out at the orange sky. He asks after a moment, “Are you feeling alright?”Her gaze flickers towards him, “How do you mean?”“You seem…unsettled.”Her leg is still bouncing. “I’m still adjusting to Coruscant,” she admits, looking away again. “I understand. Is it the familiar or the different that’s worse?” It sounds like he’s speaking from experience. (Y/N)’s fingers tap on the small table that sits between their two chairs as she considers the question. She finally decides, “The different. The familiar does its best to trick me into thinking it’s back then, but the different serves only as a harsh reminder of all that has occurred. I don’t need the reminder, I know when I am.”The differences here also make her constantly think about her shortcomings and outright failures. For not the first or late time, she can’t help but consider the countless other possible outcomes that could have come to fruition if she had been smarter, been quicker, not been frozen. “It will pass in time,” Luke tells her kindly. (Y/N) knows this. She’s also impressed by the fact that Luke does as well. She’s tempted to ask him how he knows, if it’s perhaps just an innate feeling or if he has experienced something similar before. Palpatine’s presence will fade. But the emptiness of the Temple will take much longer to be corrected. It is unlikely that (Y/N) will see that day come in her lifetime. Unless she manages to get frozen in carbonite again. She shivers at the thought, shoulders hitching upward slightly. Luke’s hand brushes over hers where it rests on the table, attempting to offer comfort. He can see, as well as sense, her discomfort. She is grateful for his effort even if it doesn’t prove to be very effective. Unfortunately, even when the Jedi do increase in number to the point that the Temple will feel as it did decades ago, things will still not feel quite right. The massacre of the Jedi will never fade from the fabric of the Force. That wound, that bleeding gash, will always be there. She will always be able to sense that sorrow and grief and loss. Time heals all wounds, but the scar will remain forever. (Y/N) will always be able to reach out and touch the aftermath of the slaughter. She will never be able to forget what occurred and countless generations of Jedi after her will also be able to sense it. It sits bitter on her tongue, the fact that she will never truly be comfortable here again. Luke had once offered to help her find a living planet to reside on. Obviously (Y/N) would prefer that he follow through on that and choose to reestablish the Order somewhere more alive than Coruscant, but she also won’t stomp her feet like a child and insist that he keep his promise. After all, she still remembers the first time she had seen the Jedi Temple in all its grandeur and size. Even in the throes of loss and grief (Y/N) had been helpless to stop how she had gawked at the building. She would not hold it against Luke if he too was swept up in the ambiance of the Temple and decided to stay here instead of going somewhere else. Let him be amazed, she thinks to herself. Let him be filled with wonder. Let there be stars in his eyes to go with the moons that hers have become. She will stay here if it is what Luke wants. She will adapt to the limitations of her blindness, learn to ignore the similarities, and grow used to the differences. After all he has been through, (Y/N) wishes only for Luke to be happy and to have something nice in his life. If his desire is the old temple, (Y/N) will do everything she can to give it to him. His hand brushes over hers again, alerting her to just how long she’s been sitting there in silence. (Y/N)’s unseeing eyes flicker to him briefly and she offers a small smile, “I know.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N)’s head turns to the left and she offers a welcoming smile to the familiar presence that is approaching her. She remarks, “Luke had mentioned you were here. You’ll have to forgive me for not seeking you out.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Lando says as he reaches her side, “This place is a maze. I’m having trouble keeping track of things, and I can actually see where I’m going. Is this seat taken?”

“Help yourself,” she gestures towards the empty space on the bench that she currently sits on.

“I’m surprised Luke has left your side,” he observes as he settles beside her, “He’s just about been attached to it since unfreezing you.”

“We came here together but he had a meeting,” she explains easily, “I was with Rex for a while, but he was eventually needed elsewhere as well. It’s almost as if they’re trying to run a galactic government or something.”

That earns her a laugh. Lando then tells her, “I’m glad I ran into you, actually. I have something for you. I’ll have it brought down.”

(Y/N)‘s eyebrow quirks lightly in curiosity as he shifts beside her, no doubt sending a message or something to whoever will bring the mystery object to them.

“You’ve managed alright on your own?” he asks after a brief silence. 
She shrugs, “Well enough. Though I must admit that I’ve been in this building before so I did have some idea of its layout prior to,” she gestures vaguely at her face, “I did get turned around for a moment, but I figured it out eventually. What have you been up to?”
“Mostly beating people off with a stick.”

Her lips twitch in amusement at the phrasing, as well as the mental imagine, “Do tell.”

“I’ve been getting offers about holding some sort of office or position here on Coruscant.”

“And you believe you’re ill suited for the task?”

“Not at all,” Lando says, “If you recall, I was the Baron Administrator-”
“Yes,” she nods, “I do remember you telling me that.”
“Precisely. Between that and the many other enterprises I’ve dabbled in over the years, I do have a good head on my shoulders for this sort of thing.”

Her chin rises slightly as she says, “Ah, so it’s a matter of desire more than anything else.”

“I have no interest in being tied down to this behemoth,” he explains, “I’d rather focus my efforts on my own projects. Something I’m sure you can relate to.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) agrees easily. It’s been no secret that she desires to be separate from everything going on here.

“And Luke, too, for that matter,” he adds.

She inclines her head, an amused smile finding its way to her face as she says conspiratorially, “Our numbers are growing. I’ve managed to swindle him over to our side of things.”

Lando chuckles goodnaturedly, “Coming from you, I’m sure he didn’t need a lot of convincing.”

Her brow furrows slightly, not understanding what he could mean by that. Did he think she was using the Force to influence Luke? She had never taken Lando for a paranoid or suspicious man, at least not with friends, such an accusation seems out of character. Not to mention his tone is too playful for something as serious as that, so he must mean something else. Before she can ask for clarification, he says, “Ah, here it is.”

(Y/N) turns her head in the direction that she can sense another person approaching them from. How Lando managed to find people to do legwork for him on Coruscant of all places despite not having significant standing within this newly formed government, she will never know.

Lando is soon pressing something against her hand where it had been resting on her leg. She quickly turns her hand to take it from him and her other hand soon joins in her effort to identify the object now in her possession. Given the size and general shape, she wants to say it’s a holopad. Though it is a bit heavier and bulkier than she’s used to if that’s what it truly is. Her fingers trace around the edge of what can only be a screen and then the sides in search of the power button. After a brief exploration, she finds and presses said button. The screen lights up bright enough for her shoddy vision to perceive it and she declares, “A holopad.”
“Yes, but not just any holopad,” Lando says, phrasing like that of a used speeder salesman who is really more of a con man than vendor and yet she can sense his sincerity. He continues, “It has a keyboard so you can type.”
Her eyebrows rise in surprise. She can’t think of many instances where she’s seen a tangible keyboard on a holopad, the far preferred and more common designs have the keyboard displayed on the screen itself. Her hand slides down to brush over the keyboard that is indeed installed below the screen. The analog system would explain why it is bulkier and heavier than expected. Her fingers find a minimalist textile on the keys. “Is this braille?”

“Yes, do you know it?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I just recognized the style of bumps.”

“Ah. I think with muscle memory alone you would manage to be pretty accurate, but I do think you should probably learn regardless. If not for this then for general everyday practicality.”

“I agree.”

“Also, in addition to the standard function that will read aloud anything you download, this one can also read back what you typed yourself. You can adjust it to your preference on how often you want to hear it. That way you can double check what you’ve typed.”
(Y/N) turns the device over in her hands, “Thank you, Lando. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” His kind gift has returned vital tools and resources to her. Having to wait for others to read things for her or having to seek out someone if she had a thought she wanted to commit to something more permanent than just a thought had quickly grown tiresome. This holopad will help to return some of her sorely missed independence. 
“You’re welcome. I’m still not sure of how much vision you’ve actually got. Can you see the lettering?”

“I doubt it. I haven’t yet found a font size large enough or style clear enough for me to decipher.”

“Here,” the holopad shifts in her hold as Lando fiddles with it, “let me…Okay, it’s a larger font now. How’s that?”

(Y/N) squints at the screen as she holds it closer to her face. She’s able to see the black of the lettering against the white of the screen, but the characters themselves are still blurred beyond recognition, “…No. I can see that there are words on the screen, but I can’t make heads or tails of them.”

Lando makes a quiet noise, “Well, you can fiddle with it later and see what options there are. Maybe this one has preferences more suited for people with impaired sight to go with the keyboard.”

She nods, “I’ll be sure to explore once I’m back home. Thank you again. How much did it cost? I may or may not be able to pay you back right now.”

“Your meaning?” Lando asks, already amused in his anticipation for the explanation for her peculiar statement.

“Well,” her head tilts slightly, “I’ve either got a bank account that’s been doing nothing but accruing interest for the past two decades…or it was seized by the government. One of my tasks to complete while I’m here is figuring out which it is.”

Lando chuckles, “I hope it’s the former for your benefit. But you don’t have to pay me back regardless.”

“This couldn’t have been easy or cheap to acquire,” she observes, brushing her fingers over the keyboard. While a common impediment, whether it be complete blindness or impaired vision, the galaxy had not been designed with that class of person in mind. A holopad with a braille keyboard would be a hard thing to track down. Or expensive if Lando had commissioned it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells her, “It was no trouble.”

(Y/N) very much doubts that, looking at him skeptically.

“I see what Luke means,” he remarks, “You have the uncanny ability to find faces.”

“I’m not completely blind,” she reminds him, “it’s not like I’m just taking a stab in the dark here. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? I don’t mind, and I’m very grateful.”

“I’m sure. Your thanks is enough.”
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s knuckles smack against the back of the chair and she glares accusingly at the metal as she quickly adjusts her hand. The legs slide smoothly across the floor as she pulls it away from the table. She settles down beside Luke, careful to keep quiet so as not to disturb his concentration anymore than she already had. Damn depth perception…

After a moment, she can vaguely see the movement of his head turning as well as the briefest flashes of blue. She asks, “Reading anything good?”

“I actually wasn’t so much reading as I was researching.”

Her eyebrow rises, “The difference being…?”

“I’ve made a list,” Luke informs her.

“I’m sure it looks very nice,” she offers kindly.

He sighs loudly.

“A list of what?” (Y/N) asks, tone now more serious.

“Possible locations for the Jedi Temple.”

She makes sure to keep her face blank as she tilts her head slightly, “Don’t you want to stay on Coruscant? You don’t need me to tell you there’s a ready-made location here.”

“You’re right, but I don’t want to stay here regardless,” Luke says, “Neither of us are particularly comfortable here.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrow slightly. That is an understatement for her. But for him? She had never been given the impression that Luke was uncomfortable on Coruscant. Sure he can sense Palpatine’s lingering presence here, which isn’t fun, but he has only ever been fascinated by the planet  since arriving. And he has thoroughly enjoyed exploring the Temple during their stay, soaking up any information (Y/N) has provided and only coming back with more questions. He had never given any indication of discomfort before now.

“Is that the truth?” she asks, “Because if you’re just trying to relocate because of me-”

“It’s not just you,” Luke assures her, “I have my own reasons for not wanting to be here.”

She can’t help but press, “Like?”

“Well, for starters, I think it would be better to have a clean slate as we start fresh. We’re moving forward, I don’t want to stay here where the past is still so present. And then there’s the fact the temple itself is kind of daunting. It’s just the two of us now…and there’s an entire people’s history here. I feel like I’m going to drown. It’s…a lot to take in.”

It doesn’t take a seeing person to see that Luke’s concerns go beyond just the matter of location. While there are other Force users in the galaxy, it is just the two of them that have taken on the task of rebuilding the Jedi. They alone will forge the next chapter and, while (Y/N) at least has prior experiences to use as inspiration, Luke is essentially going into it blind. It is a huge responsibility that they have shouldered and she doesn’t blame him for being intimidated by that. Hell, even with her past knowledge, she is too.

“I won’t let you drown,” (Y/N) promises him, voice quiet. Her hand rests on the table between them.

He doesn’t speak.

“Here or anywhere else,” she adds, “If you truly want to go somewhere else, I will follow.”

After another moment of silence, he finally says, “Thank you.”

(Y/N) offers him a kind smile, inclining her head briefly. “When will we go?”

“You’ll come with me?” Luke asks, sounding pleasantly surprised by that.

“Yes. I’m only here,” she gestures around vaguely, “because of you.” Her gesture implies that she is speaking of her being on Coruscant, but in truth her words have layers. Yes, she is only on Coruscant because of Luke. If not for his interests here, she might not have come at all. Perhaps long enough to grab her few possessions from the Temple and say a proper farewell to it and those that no longer live there, but she would definitely not have stayed on the planet for this long. But she also wouldn’t be here, in the ‘awake and breathing’ sense, if not for him. It had been Luke who had discovered her on Tatooine and unfrozen her with Lando’s help. She would still be in the carbonite if he hadn’t sensed her.

She has no desire to be without him. If Luke wants to go exploring the galaxy, (Y/N) will happily go with him. 
“I thought we could leave in a few days,” he proposes, “We just need to plot out the journey and make sure we won’t be missed.”
(Y/N) nods in agreement, content with that. She would have also been content if he had said they’d leave as soon as they were done packing for the journey, but understands he’ll have to notify people and possibly get clearance for leave before they can just jet off. 
She suddenly clicks her tongue in reprimand, “Researching possible locations for a new Jedi Temple within the current one. How blasphemous. You’re lucky the roof doesn’t come down on us.”
“Oh, knock it off,” he says, smile audible. 
 
***
 
“And this, obviously, would serve as the living quarters.”

(Y/N) nods absently, not able to see much of the dorm room they stand in but understanding the traits and purpose of one easily enough. “Perks of using a college campus, I suppose. Many of the elements we need have already been built into the layout.”
“Exactly,” Luke agrees, “It saves us from needing to do renovations. It’s practically ready-made.”
She hums quietly in confirmation. The mess hall, the dorms, the classrooms once cleared of clutter. And the complex itself boasts a number of courtyards. (Y/N) hadn’t done much in terms of outdoor lessons before, but would certainly jump at the opportunity to do so now. Especially since her ability to see will improve drastically with soil under her feet. 
“So…”
When Luke doesn’t finish his thought, she mimics his tone, “So…what?”

He clarifies, “What do you think about it?” 
(Y/N) blinks and then blindly looks around, considering the tour they had just been on. She finally declares with a nod, “It’s nice.”
“…Is that all you have to say?”

She shrugs, “What would you like to hear?”

“I don’t exactly know,” Luke admits, “I just thought you’d have a bigger opinion either way.”

“Should I take offense to that?” Has she come across as strongly opinionated, and unapologetically vocal about that? If so…perhaps that isn’t the worst thing. She had been silent before, bitten her tongue too often, and it had ended in disaster. (Y/N) is determined to not repeat past mistakes and voice her mind now. However, she doesn’t want to be annoying while doing so.

“No! I didn’t mean anything like that,” he is quick to assure her, “I only thought you’d want to have a greater say in things.”

Ah. That’s a relief. “I’m happy to offer my advice or insight where and when I can,” she confirms, “but this area doesn’t really seem to be suited for me. I can’t exactly comment on the view. The logistics of everything will be your headache by extension, I’m sorry to tell you.”

“It would be smaller than the one on Coruscant,” Luke points out.

“Yes,” (Y/N) agrees. She can see enough to know that the old Jedi Temple dwarfs the campus they have spent the day exploring.

He is quiet for a beat. “…Do you…think that’s a problem?”

She shrugs, “The Order wasn’t built in a day. It’s just the two of us right now so there’s plenty of space at this point in time. It’s unlikely we will see a large amassing of Jedi in our lifetimes. Expansion might be a concern for the next generation, but it doesn’t need to be one for us. As long as there is land to build on, the current size of what would become the temple shouldn’t be a deciding factor.”
“So you think we should aim for something smaller as a start?”
(Y/N) shrugs again, “Eh. Either way. I’ll be happy as long there’s dirt under my feet instead of metal.”

“That’s your only criteria?” Luke asks, amused, “That the planet be alive?”
“Yes,” she replies easily, “I like being able to somewhat see. I want to be as self-sufficient as possible, for my own sanity and so I can actually be of use. That’s all that really matters to me,” she then adds as almost an afterthought, “…I suppose I would also prefer a temperate climate like this. Nothing too extreme.”“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” he assures her, “I could never set foot on an ice planet again in my entire life and that would still be too soon.”
“I feel like there’s a fun story there,” she observes with a smile.

“I don’t know about ‘fun’, but there’s definitely a story.”
“You’ll have to tell me some day,” (Y/N) requests, tucking her hand around his arm.  
***
 
(Y/N)’s head lifts briefly to appraise the blue sky above their heads, unseeing eyes searching for the bird she can hear calling out to its companions. It sounds low in the sky. It’s likely this settlement doesn’t see much air traffic.

“Definitely not as ready-made,” Luke says beside her, “but the location is much better. We’re practically in town, which will make things much easier. Supplies, transportation, stuff like that.”

“We’d have to set a curfew,” she points out, “Otherwise we’ll have to deal with people coming back at all hours of the night. How many bars are here? Hangovers and the Force are not good bedfellows.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She swings her cane over to smack his shin even as a smile sneaks its way onto her face. The wind suddenly changes and her head turns, eyes widening as she catches a new scent in the air. She asks excitedly, “Is there a beach nearby?”

“Yes,” Luke confirms, “just over there,” and she sees enough movement to indicate he had probably just pointed in the direction of the beach.

She doesn’t comment on the mild slip-up, only saying, “Let’s go!”

“Are you sure?” he asks somewhat skeptically.

“Yes!” (Y/N) tugs at his arm even though she doesn’t exactly know which way to go.

Luke pulls his arm free and takes her hand, pulling her to the left, “It’s this way, you’re about to walk out into a street.”

(Y/N) blinks, quickly putting the tip of her cane back on the ground as it had inadvertently raised to hover in the air by a few inches in her surprise at there being a beach nearby to visit. Luke guides her along the sidewalk and (Y/N) allows her mind to drift back to the building they had just explored. It’s not nearly as big as the college campus they had explored, but there is plenty of empty land to expand on. One thing to consider, though, is the populace of this town that they’d be setting up shop next to. Construction for days on end would hardly endear them to the locals. And if the town is small, its residents might not appreciate such a boom in population that would tax resources and could disturb the sleepy quietness they are accustomed to.

More birds caw high over their heads and the scent of the salt water and seaweed grows stronger as the ground changes under her feet. Gone is the sectioned pavement, replaced by shifting sand. She quickly retracts her cane and hooks it to her belt as she knows it will only serve as a hindrance now. A breeze washes over them and (Y/N) smiles at how it is slightly damp with ocean mist. She asks, “Is it nice? Does it look nice?”

“Yes?” Luke replies tentatively, as if he is unsure of what qualified a beach as ‘nice looking’. Which, fair. He continues, “The water is a greenish blue…I think it’s low tide. The sand is black closer to the water and there are some dunes to the left closer to the houses.”

“It sounds lovely,” she says happily, “Let’s go in.”

“…In?”
(Y/N) mimics his questioning tone, “The water?”
Luke shifts beside her, “I don’t know-“

“I’ve wanted to go swimming in an ocean for fifty years,” she tells him, “I’m doing it with or without you.”

She turns away and immediately starts to strip. She can hear Luke move, no doubt also turning away to grant her more privacy. (Y/N) lays her boots on their side and then rests her pants, shirt, and jacket on top of them in hopes of limiting how sandy they get. She touches her bra to make sure the fabric is still properly covering her breasts as her skin pebbles. In truth, it’s not the warmest of days. But a little chill isn’t going to stop (Y/N) from going for a swim.

The beach is flat, and it’s hard to miss the gigantic blue body of water in front of her, which makes it easy for her to reach her destination even as the sand shifts under her with each step. She inhales sharply when the water washes over her lower legs. Shit, that’s cold! She tries to keep her body from locking up in reaction to it, forcing her feet to carry her forward. She hisses through her teeth as the water rises to her waist, promptly decides going gradually is just drawing out the inevitable, and dives forward to plunge her entire body into the chilly water at once. A wave breaks over her head and (Y/N) swims through it even as her mind tries to reject the cold and shouts at her to get the hell out of the water. She stays below the surface until her lungs burn for oxygen and only then finds her footing and rises out of the water. The cool air bites at her wet skin as she blinks water from her sightless eyes. Salt is bitter on her tongue and she can’t help but smile even as she shivers.

“Oh, fuck, that’s cold,” Luke swears behind her.

(Y/N) turns around as she wipes lingering water from her face. She can tell that Luke’s stripped down to his underwear as well as he slowly makes his way into the water. She’s out far enough that the coming waves pass by her without yet cresting, but Luke is still too close to the shore. She thinks the water is still around his knees. Her eyes squint as she tries to make out his blurry figure. A larger wave rises between them, cutting off her already limited view for a moment, and when it crashes down Luke is nowhere to be found. (Y/N), briefly, recalls that he was raised on Tatooine and might not be the strongest swimmer as a result, but quickly dismisses her worry because Luke would simply have not come into the water if that was a cause for concern. He emerges a moment later and says through chattering teeth, “I don’t know how you stayed under for so long. That’s brutal.”

(Y/N) shrugs.

As he wades closer, he asks, “Is it everything you thought it would be?”

“I think it would be more pleasant if it wasn’t mind-numbingly cold, but I’m still glad I can finally say I did it.”

Another forming wave passes by and (Y/N) shifts her weight a bit to compensate for the slight jostling.

“I’m surprised you’ve never been to a beach before,” Luke observes, “They aren’t that rare.”

“Oh, I’ve been to beaches before,” she tells him, “it was just never for leisure.“

“The war?”

She nods, “I’ve fought on all sorts of terrains. Dirt, snow, sand, swamp, mountains. Technically, I’ve even swam in the ocean before. My transport was once shot out of the air and we had to make a splash landing. I had to swim to shore with my surviving men to get to the fight. But that wasn’t much fun, so I don’t count it,” her hands absently run over the surface of the water, “…I’ve seen quite a lot of the galaxy in my lifetime. Unfortunately a lot of my experiences have been tainted by my purpose for being there. It’s hard to enjoy your surroundings when you’re thinking of where would be the best to position troops or actively blowing it up.”

“I understand what you mean,” Luke says, “I’ve been with the Rebellion since I left Tatooine. Every place we’ve been has been looked at with skepticism. We were checking every corner in every town for a squadron, watching every person that we passed to see if they were watching us with too much interest. This road trip is really the first time I’ve ever been somewhere new and been able to relax.”

A frown pulls at her lips. He doesn’t paint the prettiest of pictures. She asks, “Did you at least like it on Tatooine?”

“Not particularly,” he easily admits, “I was safe there, and I was happy with my uncle and aunt, but there wasn’t much to do.”

(Y/N) flicks the water with her fingers. So Obi-Wan had not simply been teasing Anakin when he complained about his time spent on Tatooine as Luke’s guardian. She wonders if she would have had a better temperament for it. If she hadn’t been frozen, would she have gone to Tatooine with Obi-Wan and Luke or to Alderaan to stand guard over Leia? Her brain says it would have been Alderaan so that both of the twins would have had a Jedi protector. She tries not to think of Padmé’s final moments with the children she would never know being held by the people who had not been able to save her husband and having no choice but to trust them to protect her babies. If she had been in that situation, (Y/N) would have done just as Obi-Wan had and promised to guard them, but her heart says that she would have gone to Tatooine while doing so. After losing so much, (Y/N) isn’t sure she would have had the strength to walk away from Obi-Wan.

She pulls herself from her thoughts and smiles kindly at Luke, “Well, perhaps we’ll discover some nice places together in our search for the new temple.”

She thinks Luke might return her smile.

“Let’s head back,” (Y/N) proposes, “I’ve already been frozen once, I don’t need to experience it again.”

He laughs and she’s just barely able to see the white of his teeth. 
 
***
 
“Would you like to go to Tatooine?” Luke asks her a few hours later as they’re flying to their next destination.

(Y/N) gazes at the bright streaks of lightspeed and shrugs, “If you ever had the desire to return, and wanted company, I would be happy to come along.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he points out.

She sighs. (Y/N) is now in a position where if she wants to comfortably travel somewhere, she will need a companion. Objectively, yes, she could probably manage on her own. Autopilot could get her to and from, the Force is still her ally, her sight is not entirely gone, and she’s got enough street smarts to make her way through somewhere seedy like Tatooine without a problem. But if she wants to avoid a lot of unnecessary hassle and stress, she will need someone with her. Given Luke’s place in her life, he’s the one most likely to fill that role. And so she had intentionally misinterpreted his question because she knows he has no interest in ever returning to Tatooine. She tells him just as much, “You have no interest in going there.”
“It’s not like I’m going to break out in hives if I go, (Y/N),” he chides lightly, “If you’d like to go, I’ll come along. You’ve spent enough time stuck in one place,” and that gets a laugh from her, “I’ll go anywhere you’d like.”She grins, “Well, if that’s the case then I’d really like to go to Hoth.”
“Ha ha,” he says flatly, “Last time I tell you anything.”

(Y/N) pouts at him, even going so far as to petulantly fold her arms across her chest. 
“I’ll take you somewhere with snow if you want,” Luke compromises, “but I’m not going to that particular frozen rock. If you want to go to Tatooine, we’ll go. I just don’t see the appeal. There isn’t anything there.”
“If we were to go, it would be a short trip,” she says, wanting him to understand her motivation, “There was once a time I thought of going to see how my figurine bantha compared to the real thing, but I suppose that’s out the window now. But it’s still a place of significance for a number of important people in my life, so I’d like to visit it for that. I think it would be nice to see that part of all your lives, even if it wasn’t the nicest part, I think it would help me know you better.”

Her desire to visit Tatooine has never been a matter of ‘what’, but rather ‘who’. If all she wanted was to see sand, she could just go to any old beach. It’s the personal history of a select few linked to the planet that interests her.

Luke is silent for a moment before he says, “…That’s an annoyingly endearing reason for wanting to go. Which makes it very difficult for me to deny you. Did you know that?”

She smiles at him pleasantly.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) knows Yavin IV will be the home of their new temple within minutes of arrival. In truth, she had known before they even entered the system due to how Luke spoke of it as they traveled there. A tiny part of her had held back, though, wanting to see the location for herself. But it had quickly been won over, assured that Yavin IV would suit their needs well.

The tour Luke takes her on is different from the previous ones. While their time at other locations on his list had largely been filled with descriptions of the settings for her sake, here he is telling her where things will go or what can be repurposed for their efforts. The approach to it is different, the way he visualizes the space is more natural. Consciously or not, Luke had clearly been using the old rebel base as a starting point for any planning he had done in his head. As she had told him before, that particular headache would be his alone to bear, so she is pleased that he appears to have a knack for it.

(Y/N) needs little convincing, but allows Luke to talk endlessly anyway because she finds his excitement endearing.

“I like it,” Luke says happily, as if that wasn’t already obvious, “The temple is small, but there’s no shortage of real estate to build on when we reach that point. Wetyin’s is just a stone’s throw away so we have a hospital and easy access to supplies. And it’s plenty warm here, so we can do a lot outdoors.”

(Y/N) smiles as she asks, “Anything else?”

“Sorry,” he practically gushes, “I just really like it here.”

“I can tell,” she teases lightly, turning her head to look up at the temple’s side.

“What do you think? Can you feel though the stone?”

Her feet tap against the stone courtyard of sorts that they stand on, “No, but it’s alright. I like it here as well.” The lighting within the structure isn’t the greatest, but even the brightest bulbs cannot return her sight. And Luke had been correct about the climate here, so she should be able to do a lot outside with plenty of natural light at her disposal anyway. 
“Good,” Luke says, smile evident in his voice. His hand finds hers, “Let’s go to Wetyin’s and have something to eat.”
(Y/N) agrees easily, “Okay.”

He guides them away from the temple and she is quick to ask, “How’s the terrain?”

Luke is quiet for a moment as he looks around. He finally tells her, “Uneven around here. The walkway is dirt, but if my memory serves correctly it’s worn down. You’ll probably be better off without it, though.”

She nods in acceptance and pulls away from his hold briefly to retract her cane. As she hooks it to her belt, she reminds him, “I’ll need your help.”

“Of course,” he says, retaking her hand without flair. Luke leads them through the woods and into  Wetyin’s Colony, offering quiet commentary about the settlement and pointing out a few things she might be able to use as landmarks to maneuver the streets in the future. The town feels and sounds populated but not enough to be at risk of being too busy or crowded. They won’t be isolated here, but also won’t be suffocated. Luke issues a quiet warning and she seamlessly maneuvers the lip of a doorway as they step into a restaurant filled with the quiet buzz of chatter and the mingling scents of various meals. (Y/N) has already noticed a sharpening of her other senses from her body’s effort to compensate for her loss in sight. She can pick out a handful of particular smells, including a tea Obi-Wan often drank and some tangy seasoning she has definitely sampled before.

“Hey, Luke!”

Her head turns in the direction of the unknown, yet friendly voice.

“Marin,” Luke responds pleasantly, “Nice to see you again.”

“Great to see you, man,” Marin says and Luke leaves her side briefly to, by her best guess, be pulled into a hug. He asks, “What brings you to Yavin?”

“We were taking a look at the old base,” Luke supplies, “Might use it for the new Order.”

“Ah, I see,” Marin’s tone becomes inquisitive as he asks, “And who is this?”

“I’m (Y/N),” she provides. 
“Name’s Marin Hardis,” he supplies in return and she can see enough movement to know he’s just offered his hand in greeting, “I-oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
(Y/N) reaches out to take the hand before it can be withdrawn and smiles kindly as she shakes it, “No need to apologize. And for future reference, I’m not completely blind.”
“I see,” he audibly cringes before saying, “Shit. So sorry again.”
She laughs lightly, “Again, no need to apologize. I like to have a laugh every now and then.”

“How about you take us to a table before you put your foot in your mouth for a third time,” Luke suggests flatly.

“Hey, the young lady said she didn’t mind!”

(Y/N) smirks as she considers informing the man that she’s actually far from being young and that he’s just achieved what could be considered his third faux pas in this very short conversation, but ultimately chooses not to. Luke’s warm hand finds her wrist and she allows herself to be led to what she can only assume is an empty table. Would be a bit awkward for the other patrons if she and Luke were seated at an already occupied table. She’s able to find the seat for herself, in part because her foot smacked against one of the legs, and sits down.

“Now,” Marin says tentatively, “when you say ‘not completely blind’…?”

She lifts her head to look at him expectantly, spotting what can only be a menu in his hand. She quickly shakes her head, “Nowhere near that.”

“Alright,” he quickly withdraws the menu, asking as Luke takes the other, “Waters to start?”

“Sure,” she offers easily, with Luke echoing the sentiment, “Yes, thank you.”
Marin leaves them and Luke proceeds to patiently read through the menu, and she is pleased to know that when they properly move to Yavin that there will be a friendly face nearby as well as a restaurant that shows considerable promise as there were a number of items that had sounded appealing. Marin soon returns to the table again with the drinks. He takes their orders, makes sure (Y/N) is aware of where her cup sits on the table, and then is gone again. She inquires, “How do you know Marin?” She knows Luke had not been here for long before the Rebellion had to relocate. For Luke to have befriended Marin, it is either a story that extends beyond this planet or simply a testament to just how likable the man sitting across from her is. Perhaps both. 
“His family had been an ally of the Rebellion since before I joined,” Luke supplies, “His brother is a smuggler who helped us out at times and his sister is a pilot in the fleet. You might have met her on Endor, I don’t remember.”

(Y/N)’s brow furrows as she tries and fails to recall a woman who had introduced herself with the last name of ‘Hardis’.

He continues, “I initially met him here as the Rebellion was evacuating after the first Death Star’s destruction, and then a few times since.”

“I take it the population here is largely rebel?”

“Yes,” he confirms, “Kes and Shara are here as well. I know you know Kes.”

She nods, easily recalling the man who had been a part of the strike team on Endor. Kes had introduced her to Shara during the celebration afterwards. That’s two more familiar, friendly faces here. Yavin sounds more and more appealing the more she learns about it.

Their food comes quickly, which makes (Y/N) think Marin must have skipped whatever queue there presently was since the restaurant feels and sounds reasonably crowded for this time of day. She makes no comment about it, seeing as there’s really nothing to be gained from such a thing, and just offers thanks as her plate is set down in front of her.

“I’m sorry the lighting in here isn’t too good,” Marin says apologetically.

“It’s not so bad,” she replies easily even as her hands carefully search for her napkin, “Perhaps we’ll sit closer to the windows in the future.”

“Ahh,” there’s a light smacking of flesh that says he likely just smacked his forehead, “Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sorry-”

She waves him off, “It’s alright.”
“Would you like to move?”
“No need,” (Y/N) says, tilting her face up to show him a kind smile, “Just a thought for next time.”

As Marin leaves once more, she drapes her napkin across her lap and carefully touches the edge of her plate to gauge the temperature of her meal. She squints briefly to try and get a visual of the layout of her food so she will have an easier time wielding her utensils. (Y/N) finds her fork quickly, metal catching on the lights overhead and making it easy to spot, and starts to eat. 
“I know I’ve said so before,” Luke says after a moment, “but it bears repeating: you’ve handled your blindness with an admirable amount of grace.”
(Y/N) smiles briefly, “I don’t have much choice, but thank you.”

“You do have a choice,” he protests, “You could be bitter and angry about it. You’re hardly the first person I’ve encountered who has been saddled with less than ideal circumstances, but you’ve definitely borne it like no other. I can only hope I would have handled everything you’ve encountered with half the amount of composure that you had.”
“You can do more than hope,” she tells him, “Your own life has not been without hardship. A lesser man would have succumbed to what you have overcome. Your triumphs are not to be dismissed. What’s more is that you have retained your kindness and compassion throughout it, which is no small feat either.”
Which is true. She has seen countless people be hardened by their experiences, losing pieces of themselves like a cliff’s edge slowly worn away by the relentless beating of waves against the stone. Even (Y/N) herself has not gotten away unscathed, having tasted bitterness on her tongue or felt it in her thoughts more times than she cares to admit. Luke has seen much in his young life and appears to have become only kinder because of it.

“You only got to see the end result,” Luke says dismissively, “I wasn’t always so put together.”
“I have yet to come across someone who is perfect, Luke,” (Y/N) scolds lightly, “Do try and cut yourself some slack every once and a while.” 
***
 
After exploring a few more options, they do indeed decide Yavin IV will serve as their new home and location for the Jedi Temple. While some may have considered it to be a waste of time, (Y/N) had not bemoaned getting to explore more of the galaxy despite already knowing where they would ultimately settle.

Luke had even surprised her with an impromptu visit to a snow planet. He had complained the entire time, much to her amusement, especially when she had managed to fumble her way through making a snowball and throwing it at him. 
(Y/N) sets another figurine on the shelf installed on the one wall of her new room, smiling at the memory of the annoyed squawking noise he had made. 
R2 whistles from the other side of the room. 
She hums in thought, looking in the direction of her bed. This room’s setup happens to place the bed at the center point of the back wall instead of pushed closer to either corner. She tells him, “No, I hadn’t given it much thought. My bed at the apartment is centered, I’ve honestly already grown used to it. I did like having the room for some private meditation if I wanted it, but this room is much bigger than the one I had at the old temple so there’s still plenty of space for it. And I’ll like having good lighting on both sides when I have to change the sheets, as opposed to fumbling around in the corner.”
She reaches into the small box again as he beeps.

“Finished setting up your zoo?” Luke asks as he enters the room.

“Not quite,” she replies, briefly petting the bantha on its head before placing him near the corner of the shelf.

“Well, maybe this will help.”

(Y/N) grins and turns to hold her hand out expectantly. Familiar pointy legs lightly poke at her palm and she quickly lifts her hand closer to her face as she squints. She can make out the blur that is the acklay’s head, but any other finer detail is lost to her.

“The wood glue took,” Luke tells her, “That little sucker won’t be breaking off again.”

She beams at him, “Thank you for repairing him.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her finger carefully searches for the broken leg, tapping the joint lightly just to assure herself that it’s there. She then reaches out with her free hand to explore the shelf carefully in search of a nice place to display him. Finding a gap near the center, she sets her beloved acklay down amongst his companions.

“Front and center, huh?” Luke asks. 
“Of course. He’s my favorite.”
He hums, “If it’s as accurate as the bantha is, I’d hate to go up against the real thing.”

“It is and you don’t.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“I personally didn’t fight one, but Obi-Wan did. Have I ever told you about that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ah,” she pauses briefly to turn the acklay just slightly to improve the angle at which he’s displayed, not that it means much to her, “It was before the war. Padmé, Anakin, and Obi-Wan had all been sentenced to death on Geonosis and, let me tell you, those Geonosians are some vicious buggers. They decided the manner of death would be simultaneous public execution in an amphitheater. All three were chained to columns and each had their own creature set on them. Obi-Wan had the acklay,” she brushes her fingers over her figurines, trying to remember specifically where she had placed the other, “Anakin had the reek,” finding him by the large horn, she taps the reek, “And Padmé had the neku.”
“Where’s that one?”
She shakes her head, “If he made one, I didn’t get it. I think it had been too painful and scary to see Padmé in danger for Anakin to carve the creature that attacked her.”

“And where were you during this?” Luke asks as he steps closer to examine the display, “I’m shocked you weren’t chained to the column beside Obi-Wan with…this one attacking you or something.”

(Y/N) offers her hand so he can show her which figurine he’s speaking of. She soon shakes free of his hold to swat his hand, glaring at him playfully, “Very funny.” He chose that foreign horned creature that had joined the collection after she had been frozen, and that she hadn’t gotten around to identifying yet. “I would definitely be intimidated by those horns, though. I managed to avoid that entire debacle of people being captured on Geonosis simply by being on Coruscant while those three were galavanting around. I arrived with Mace and the other Jedi to interrupt the execution and fight the droids once the actual battle broke out.“

“What was that like?”
“Hmm. Dusty.” Perhaps not the thrilling war story he wanted to hear, but what she most distinctively remembers from that fight was how she was coughing up globs of red dust for days after. 
Luke laughs, clearly not bothered by the lackluster response.

“The nexu was pretty nasty,” she resumes her tale, easily recalling Padmé’s cry of pain when she had been slashed by the creature’s claws, “but the reek only really attacked after being provoked. The acklay, though, seemingly had a personal vendetta against Obi-Wan and kept going after him even after the Jedi and the droids got into the brawl.”

“And my father carved him anyway?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she nods, “It was hilarious.”

“I have to say,” Luke remarks as he plucks one of the figurines off the shelf briefly to examine it more closely, “you’re doing a great job of undoing the fantastical image of the Jedi.”

“Good,” (Y/N) scoffs.

He returns the figurine to its place and turns towards her as he asks, “Did you need any help settling in?”

She purses her lips briefly as she considers his offer, “…Oh! Could you find me an outlet? I need it so I can charge my holopad. It’d be a pain crawling around and dragging my hands along the walls, which is likely what would have occurred if I had to search for myself.”

“Sure,” he says easily, “And then we can figure out lunch.”
 
***
 
They settle onto Yavin IV fairly quickly. There wasn’t much to bring, being only the two of them and R2 right now, but (Y/N) is still pleased by how easily they make the transition. They’ll still make regular visits to Coruscant, to see friends or explore the old Jedi Temple further. (Y/N)’s own knowledge doesn’t hold a candle to the sheer amount of information stored in the archives. Luke brought some records with them for ‘light reading’ as he put it, but most of it is still in the Temple Library. Neither of them had felt comfortable just up and moving the entire recorded history of the Jedi to Yavin with them just yet.

One thing they won’t have to go to Coruscant for, is for Luke to speak with members within the Republic. He had taken her advice about keeping the Order separate from any sort of government and had officially stepped down from any position he held within the Rebellion that could have been construed as a position within the Republic. (Y/N) doubts she made many friends by absconding with their prized Jedi-slash-war hero, but she really can’t bring herself to care.

Unfortunately, just because they’ve ‘settled’ on Yavin doesn’t mean (Y/N) herself has ‘settled’. The simple act of moving is not a magical cure-all. She still feels restless at times, like her body is trying to make up for the twenty-three years that it spent frozen in stasis. Her leg will bounce at dinner, her fingers flex constantly at her sides, she will lay awake in bed for hours unable to quiet her thoughts enough to fall asleep, she will randomly be struck by the desire to walk as far as the land will allow her.

She briefly considers taking up whittling like Anakin had to cope with his own restlessness, though Luke gently points out that perhaps wielding a sharp knife wouldn’t be the best thing which is enough to dissuade the inkling. Instead, (Y/N) comes to discover that she is quite skilled at crocheting. Yavin’s climate is kind so they aren’t in any great need of gloves, hats, and so on, but there’s still enough of a chill caught in the stones of the temple that the blankets she makes will be appreciated. She also takes up gardening, expanding on the handful of plants that she had kept throughout her time at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Luke tills the soil and sections off the area, but that’s where his usefulness stops as he doesn’t have even the hint of a knack for keeping things alive. He seemingly has the ability to kill a plant by simply looking at it for too long. (Y/N) makes sure he keeps a respectful distance so as not to tempt fate, to which he defensively reminds her that he had spent most of his life on a desert planet and therefore never needed to learn how to keep things alive. To which she then smugly reminds him that she lived on a planet that’s just one big city with barely any hint of nature for most of her life and it hasn’t impeded her green thumb.

It’s better here than it was on Coruscant, but that doesn’t mean it’s been easy. She’s still learning her way around the temple and figuring out the uneven terrain that surrounds it. She still wakes up some days thinking that it’s still back then and has to remember that isn’t the case. She’s still coming to terms with all that happened. There will be moments where she turns to make a remark to Obi-Wan, moments where Anakin’s name will be half-formed in her mouth before she catches herself. There are still times where her chest will suddenly seize, all of the muscles locking into place and lungs refusing to expand. She’ll end up hunched over like she physically bears the weight of her sorrow on her back, hands clutching at her chest as she tries to draw a breath. Once her lungs finally start to work again, (Y/N) will make her way outside to feel the sun on her skin to remind herself that she’s still alive. She’ll kneel in her garden and breathe in the faint aroma of the various plants or sit in the grass and weave the blurry green blades through her fingers.

Most days are good, though. And she breathes easier here in the wilderness than she ever could on Coruscant after all that has occurred. The ghost of a looming presence can no longer breathe down her neck here, the heaviness of what is missing is not so apparent.

The consequences of (Y/N) actually dealing with her emotions rather than compartmentalizing or flat out ignoring them is just that: she has to deal with her emotions. She has to face her sorrow and manage her grief. Just as she is learning Yavin, she is learning to do that. (Y/N) doubts either will ever truly leave her, but each day that passes makes them easier to bear. She will be alright. She is mortal, and so she will be mortal, but ultimately she will be alright.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“You do like it here, right?” Luke suddenly asks out of the blue.

Her brow furrows slightly as he blocks her blade with his own.

“Of course,” she assures him, not understanding why he would suddenly question that. Obviously Yavin isn’t without its flaws. The ground is uneven, there’s no form of transportation that she can use besides her own two feet because of the thick forest that surrounds them, the plumbing within the temple needs a major overhaul. But that’s hardly enough to make her unhappy with where they’ve settled. And if it was, she would have said something well before now.

“I just wanted to be sure,” Luke explains, “I hope I didn’t force your hand in any way.”

“You weren’t very subtle with your preference, no,” she teases lightly, “but that wouldn’t have been enough if I didn’t also like it here. If I wanted to keep searching, I would have said so. When I give my word, I mean it. Being wishy washy will get you nowhere.”
“Do or do not,” he says. 
She nods, “I agree.”

“Do you? Master Yoda is the one who first said that to me.”

Her eyebrows rise slightly, “Do you think I will disagree just because of that?”
“No.”
“I don’t disagree with everything the Jedi say,” she says anyway, feeling the need to defend both herself and the Jedi, “I know I tend to focus on the negatives, and for that I apologize, but I would have left the Order if I could find no common ground with it.”

“I wouldn’t say you focus on the negatives.”

(Y/N) wants to roll her eyes but stops herself in order to keep what remains of her vision focused on Luke. She takes a step back to avoid his blade and quickly counters, forcing him to think quickly in order to retreat and defend himself. Once he’s back on heels, she tells him, “You aren’t a very good liar.”

“I’m serious!” Luke laughs, “You’ve had plenty of nice things to say. But you do tend to disagree with things Yoda told me on Dagobah.”

“Encouraging you to kill Anakin and teaching you to be decisive are two very different things.”

“Fair point.”

She smirks at him. Their blades screech between them as they press against one another in a battle of wills. The green light is cast across Luke’s face, though his features still remain hidden from her. “I think being decisive is a good principle to have in all matters. It is hard to garner support from others when you doubt yourself. They can pick up on that.”

“I agree,” Luke says, finally beating her in the brief stalemate by abruptly switching the angle on which he was applying pressure. (Y/N) is forced to take a few steps back to find her footing and give her arms a small reprieve. He continues as she starts her attack again, “It's okay to question others but you should be sure of yourself.”
“Exactly. A man’s word is everything. If one does not abide by it, any chance at civilization falls apart because we can’t trust each other. If you say something, you should mean it. If you choose something, own it. If you set your mind to it, do it. If not, then don’t.”
After a brief exchange of their lightsabers striking one another in rapid yet strong hits, (Y/N) pulls back and declares, “Let’s take a break.”

Luke immediately falls out of his stance, easily agreeing, “Okay,” and returns his saber to his belt. She follows the white of his undershirt, the usual black long-sleeved shirt having been removed under the sun that hangs high and hot in the sky, towards the tree stump they used to rest their things on. Her fingers flex by her sides as he grabs a water bottle.

“I don’t mean to constantly disagree with Yoda’s teachings,” she tells him suddenly, picking up the previous thread of conversation that had fizzled out as they had re-focused on their spar, “I know your time with him was invaluable. Any hesitancy or resentment on my end shouldn’t take away from that, I don’t mean to undermine it or him in your eyes. He didn’t become Master of the Order, Grand Jedi Master, or live as long as he did without being very wise.”

“I didn’t think you were trying to do anything like that,” Luke assures her after he takes a drink, “I know you’re just trying to be smart about things. And it would be pretty hypocritical of me if I did judge you for questioning what Master Yoda said. If I had listened to him, I would have tried to kill my father, possibly be dead myself, or maybe even be calling Palpatine ‘Master’ right now,” he sighs, “I don’t think he ever purposely tried to lead me astray, I’m sure that is what he thought was best.”

A sad smile pulls at her lips as (Y/N) looks off to the side, “I fear neither of us have much experience with Yoda when he was at his best. In my time, I believe ego clouded his judgment. In yours, guilt.”

She tries not to judge Yoda, or Obi-Wan, for their pessimism just as Obi-Wan had not judged her for doubting years ago. Just as she would hope he wouldn’t judge her for being jaded now. (Y/N) had not experienced the destruction of the Order and systematic annihilation of the Jedi, she has only felt the aftermath twenty-three years after the fact. She knows it’s very likely she would have also been pessimistic if she had lived through it as Obi-Wan and Yoda had. As much as she loves Anakin, (Y/N) isn’t sure if she would have advocated for him being given a second chance.

She pulls herself from her thoughts to refocus on their reasoning for coming over here in the first place, “Can you get me a bottle?”

“Sure. Catch,” Luke says.

(Y/N) looks at him expectantly without a second thought and spots the bottle as it flies through the air at her. Her hand reaches up to catch it and she realizes their mistake just in time to watch as she misses the bottle entirely and it proceeds to strike her right between the eyes.

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

Her hands fly up to her face, pressing against her smarting nose.

Boots pound across the ground as Luke rushes to her, gently grabbing at her arms, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Her words are muffled as she says, “I think you broke my nose.”

Luke sounds utterly devastated, “(Y/N), I-”

“I’m kidding,” she says, parting her hands so he can see her smile, “Come on, Luke, it’s just a plastic bottle. I’m made of tougher stuff.”
His hands squeeze her arms as he sighs, “Oh, thank-That’s not funny!”
“And throwing something at a blind person wasn’t very smart either!”
Luke practically squawks in protest, “You-I-Well, I-” and if he continues, she can’t hear it because of how loud she’s laughing. He soon starts to laugh as well as the silliness of the situation catches up with him. 
She eventually steps back, gently pulling her arms free from Luke’s loose hold in order to bend down and pick up the bottle from where it had fallen to the ground. She takes a long drink and then asks, “Ready for the next round?”

“Yup.”

(Y/N) walks past him to return the bottle to the tree stump. She plucks her lightsaber from her belt and lifts it in front of her. She reminds him, “It’s your turn.”

As she moves away from the stump, Luke’s own saber triggers as a reply. He charges her a moment later, on offense this time.

It is strange to fight without sight. (Y/N) doubts she will ever grow accustomed to the experience. She can see little beyond blurs of colors and the glow of their lightsabers, and yet can sense so much that she could almost trick herself into thinking that her sight was still intact. She can’t see her opponent’s face, and is too focused on the task at hand to squint and try to make out what little flashes of Luke’s features she typically can when she tries really hard. The best comparison she can make to it would probably be the handful of times she fought Grievous. The nature, or lack there of, of his face had always kept him a blank slate and left her unable to gage his emotions with a glance. He certainly made up for it with his growls, changes in his labored breathing, and the hacking coughs he used to deliver insults, but his face gave away nothing. (Y/N)’s inability to see Luke’s face is similar to that. She cannot watch his eyes to try and predict what his next move will be, she will never know if his cheeks flush when he starts to tire, a knowing smile to indicate he thinks he has her beat will forever be hidden from her. And yet despite this, she can sense him so well that a near complete picture of him can form in her mind.

“Do you always use both hands?” (Y/N) asks as their blades clash in rapid succession, “Or is that just something special for me?”

“I always use two hands,” Luke replies evenly. He’s clever enough to have learned how to moderate his breathing before meeting her. If he has tired from the quicker pace of this bout, his voice gives no indication.

“Why?”

“Should I not?”

“No, I’m just curious. Is it a matter of preference?”

“It’s a matter of my opponent,” he explains, “My father was taller and stronger than me, I needed to make up for that somehow.”

“Ah.” That’s understandable. And it also explains why her muscles always have a pleasant ache after a sparring session with him. Luke packs a punch with every swing of his sword. Even if she hadn’t consciously registered it, her body had and had adjusted accordingly. She’s being conditioned at a stronger caliber than she had in the past and (Y/N) knows she will soon see the results of that. Luke had told her before that he’s essentially self-taught when it comes to fighting with a lightsaber, which is why he doesn’t know that it’s common to pull one’s hits during a friendly spar. Not that (Y/N) is complaining. She’s getting stronger, avoiding becoming complacent, and sharpening her skills and senses to better compensate for her loss of sight as a result. Luke, too, will benefit as his endurance will improve from the lengthier fights (Y/N) is able to subject him to. They will both become stronger because of the tougher training regiment and (Y/N) can’t imagine either of them objecting to that.

“Why do you tend to use one hand?” Luke asks in turn, “Is it a preference?”

While she does have to typically use two hands in order to withstand the strength of Luke’s attacks, it is true that she still favors using only one hand like she had before.

“Yes, it’s my preference. I’ve faced too many different types of fighters to be like you. I like how it keeps me open and allows more agility,” she explains, stepping around the blade swinging at her to prove her point, “It can be useful to have a free hand,” she knocks away his attack and her empty hand darts out to lightly tap the side of his head. In a real fight, she could have punched him at that moment. 
“It seems like you’re wasting a lot of energy moving around,” he observes. 
She smirks, “Because putting all of one’s strength into every swing is such a good method for conserving energy,” and then pokes his chest.

“That’s fair,” Luke laughs, “I guess there’s pros and cons to both.”

Their blades strike each other and they both step closer as they press into another standoff. (Y/N) smacks her hand against his side. 
“Stop it,” he laughs again. 
“Stop me yourself,” she counters, smacking his side again.

Luke shoves forward sharply, knocking her back a step.

(Y/N) spins her saber in her hand, “If you have the mind for it, you can use a blaster at the same time,” she makes the shape of a blaster with her free hand and points it at him, “…or another lightsaber.”

“Use two lightsabers at once?” Luke asks in disbelief, pausing in his attack.

“Yes. It’s called ‘Jar’Kai’. Would you like to see?”

“Absolutely!” is his eager reply.

“Okay. Just don’t throw the saber,” she says, holding out her empty hand. Luke huffs wordlessly as he places his saber in her expectant hand. (Y/N) takes a few steps back and then twirls it a few times to get a feel for the weight. She moves both lightsabers around her body, taking a moment to refresh her memory. She hadn’t utilized this technique often, more in training situations than in a duel or the line of fire, but she knows what she’s doing. This being her first time doing this without her fully intact sight is also not cause for concern as lightsabers are one of the easiest things for her to see and to sense. (Y/N) runs through a few moves at a rapid pace, not above showing off, and then lowers the blades, “See?”

“Seeing, yes…It’s the believing I’m having trouble with.”

She shifts through the basic forms at a slower pace, letting his untrained eye properly observe her movements this time, “It takes practice. I would have cut myself into a million pieces the first time I tried if I hadn’t been using the training mode. I could teach you, if you’d like?”

“Yes, please,” he requests.

“And if you can master that, I’ll try and teach you the Shien form,” (Y/N) adds, flipping the hilts in her hands.

“Now I know you’re just taking advantage of me not knowing better,” Luke accuses, “There’s no way that’s real!”

She grins, moving the blades around her to illustrate such a style is actually possible to perform. After a moment, she returns Luke’s saber to him. He reminds her, “Your turn.”
(Y/N) keeps both hands on her lightsaber as she attacks him with fervor. They fight for a few moments in silence aside from the occasional noise of exertion. Luke is a damn good fighter for someone with no proper training. He might have picked up bits and pieces from (Y/N) during their many spars, but she had recognized his talent even during their first fight on Sulon. His use of his physical strength does not come at the expense of grace or control. He isn’t a brute or some mindless beast beating away at her without thought. While (Y/N)’s one-handed style might be compared to a leaf caught on a breeze, light and swift, Luke’s two-handed approach could be likened to water in a roaring river. There is definitely more force and brutality to it, because (Y/N)’s arms don’t occasionally shake under the weight of his attacks without good reason, but he still has fluidity to his movements. Her ability to sense things is at its best in this situation, from her hyper-focusing to Luke’s own use of the Force to the kyber crystals that work as both homing beacons and conduits. (Y/N) doesn’t need to see Luke to know he is a vision as he fights, a perfect depiction of what the galaxy pictures when they think of the Jedi. 
(Y/N) suddenly releases her one hand from the hilt of her saber, changing styles in a flash. She swirls around Luke’s blade, empty hand knocking against his elbow to throw off his attack.

“If you wanted to dance with me, all you had to do was say so,” Luke tells her, smile evident in his voice.

Her lips quirk, “Is that an invitation?”

She’s about to laugh at this silly exchange, only to stop just short of it as she actually pictures herself and Luke dancing. Her mental image is incomplete, her own inexperience ruining any sort of scenario she could try to dream up. (Y/N) had never been dancing before, has never even been taught how as there had never been a need to learn, and so she can’t quite form an idea of how such a thing would go. The best her mind can come up with is indistinct music playing in the background as she and Luke swayed together. It leaves much to be desired, in terms of the typical, grand daydreams that carry young girls off to sleep as they long for something they don’t quite understand. And yet…as (Y/N) thinks of herself and Luke standing close to each other, perhaps speaking quietly or in a comfortable silence, his hands possibly holding her own or maybe resting on her waist, music and the rest of the room fading away as they come closer together…she finds herself not missing the frills of a more dynamic fantasy.

She blinks, pulling herself from her wandering thoughts and back to the present. It is silent aside from the buzzing of their lightsabers and their slightly heavier breathing. Her throat feels thick, as if there was now something more in the air. Luke hasn’t answered her yet, she realizes, and (Y/N) dares to wonder if he is too busy picturing something similar.

Luke laughs suddenly and she can feel the tension, that perhaps she had just imagined, between them evaporate as he says, “Trust me, you don’t want to be on the dance floor with me. I have two left feet.”

“It would be the blind leading the blind, then,” she tells him. (Y/N) switches back to two hands and wills the moment to leave her mind. 
 
***
 
“…Tune in next time and find out,” (Y/N) says along with the narrator, pitching her voice low to match his baiting tone. She then hums the vaguely mysterious sounding theme song as the next episode starts a moment later.
The quiet slide of metal against metal makes her glance over at R2 and smile at him, knowing he’s turned his head to fix her with as judgmental of a look as he can manage without actually having a face. He warbles lowly, which makes her huff in amusement. 
(Y/N) refocuses on her crocheting as the argument from the previous episode picks back up. She doesn’t bother looking away from her work when Luke shifts beside her a moment later in that slow way he always does when waking up from a nap, limbs moving like they’re dragging through thick molasses. She offers, “Welcome back, gramps.”

Luke swats her arm halfheartedly and asks, “How long was I out?”

“I can’t very well look at a clock,” she reminds him.

“Right.” Luke pushes himself up into a more upright position, making sure not to jostle her or the half-finished blanket that’s been draped over his legs. He suddenly remarks, “I don’t know how you watch this.”

There’s a marathon of some holodrama playing right now. (Y/N) hadn’t put it on, it just happened to be scheduled to air on this channel after the program they had actually been watching. With Luke asleep and her not able to use the remote, she had left things be. It had been decent enough background noise as she crocheted, even drawing a few chuckles from her over how absurd the plot was.

“I’m not watching,” (Y/N) says, releasing her hook briefly to point at her eyes.

“I’m changing the channel,” he says flatly. 
“But then how will I ever find out who the father of Wylla’s baby is?” And she’s only half-joking. As much as she tried not to be, the overly embellished storylines and bad acting have still managed to ensnare her. “A-ha! You were paying enough attention to know a character’s name,” Luke says triumphantly, “Don’t you know this type of programming will rot your brain?” 
“Well it’s not like we can have an educated philosophical discussion when you’ve gone and fallen asleep on the couch like an old man at the super late hour of…” her head turns, “R2, what time is it?”

The droid beeps helpfully. 
“Nine o’clock,” she concludes with a prim nod.  
“No teaming up on me,” Luke scolds the both of them.

“Don’t fall asleep on the couch, then,” (Y/N) counters, “I’m supposed to be the old person here.”

“Alright, then tell me, oh old and wise one, what philosophical debate had you planned for the evening before I rudely fell asleep?”

“Well,” she thinks for a moment, “…how about the question of who can actually be considered evil?”

Luke seems surprised that she actually came up with a topic so quickly, but appears to be onboard with having an actual discussion all the same as he asks, “How do you mean?”

(Y/N)’s fingers continue to work as she speaks, more than familiar enough with this particular debate that she doesn’t need to give it her full attention, “Is an animal capable of being evil? When a zillo beast attacks and kills someone, is that because he is evil or because he acted on instinct? Is he wrong for acting in such a way to protect himself? When an army of droids wage war on the galaxy and kill innocents, is it they that are evil or the ones who programmed them? Even a more advanced droid with a developed artificial intelligence was still created by another. Are they actually capable of truly independent thought when they started as a line of code fashioned by someone else? A nexu kills prey to eat in order to survive, it doesn’t hunt for sport. None of these things can be universally applied to sentient creatures like humans, Twi’leks, Weequays, so on. Many of us kill because we’re paid to, we hunt animals for the sake of trophies. That is not instinct, but something more. That choice makes us capable of being evil, unlike creatures driven by instinct or the will of others.”

“Okay…” he says tenatively.

“On the other hand,” she continues, “money is not the true motivator, but rather what that money can obtain. Food, shelter, safety, and security for loved ones. By that argument, people who kill for pay do so because of their instincts. Just as a nexu uses its claws because that is the tool available to them, these individuals use blasters and their own cleverness to kill. Regardless of method or complexity, the motivation is the same. We rise no higher than our base instincts. We are no better than non-sentient beings. And, therefore, we are not capable of being evil either.”

Luke shifts beside her, “But there are individuals who will sadistically torture and kill people for nothing but their own enjoyment. That’s not instinct, it’s malice. It’s a choice.”

“Consider the debate of nature versus nurture,” (Y/N) counters, “I accredit some of your traits to Anakin and Padmé because I’m a sentimental fool, but in truth you are the person you are because of how Owen and Beru raised you. They raised you as they had been raised by their parents, who in turn were raised by their own parents. We are no better than droids programmed by others, going back generation after generation. Just as you or I are good people, bad people are only that way because of how they were raised.”

“I refuse to believe someone like Palpatine did what he did simply because of how he was raised,” Luke says, sounding more confident and resolute than he had before, “His actions are inexcusable. It’s possible that he might have been raised poorly, but that only made him predisposed to walking that path. It was still a choice he made, no one forced his hand.”

(Y/N) lifts a hand appeasingly, “I’m not disagreeing with you. I was simply explaining the counterargument.”

“Why?”

“That’s the point of philosophy. Otherwise I might as well just ask what your favorite color is. It’s a thought experiment. It exercises your mind and trains your brain to think things through and see all sides to a debate.”

“And the Jedi would have discussions like this?”

She nods.

“What does this have to do with the Force?” Luke asks skeptically.

(Y/N) shrugs, “It doesn’t. But it’s good practice and keeps your mind sharp. There will come a day when you’re faced with a moral conundrum of some sort and it will be for the best that you contemplate the situation from multiple angles and consider different pros and cons.”

“And this is something that’s happened to you?”

“Plenty of times. You as well. When you considered how to handle your father, as an example of an instance that I witnessed. I’m sure there are others if you take the time to think about it. Regardless of whatever your instinctive response to the question was, you considered your options before deciding how to move forward with your confrontation on Endor. You aren’t as much of a novice as you might think.”

Luke is quiet as he considers what she said.

“I guess you’re right,” he finally says, “That sort of discussion is a very human thing, though. It’s not…I don’t know…”

“I know what you mean,” (Y/N) nods in understanding. It’s a mortal thing, is what he means. A bunch of people sitting around and discussing philosophy and ethics doesn’t sound like the legend of the Jedi. “But the Jedi are mortal beings, don’t let the mythos and nostalgia trick you into thinking otherwise. We might have supernatural gifts but we’re still flesh and bone at the end of the day. The Jedi are at their best when they act ‘human’, not when they’re acting as war machines.”

“I understand. Will you do more of these with me?” Luke requests, “More, what did you call them, brainteasers?”

“Thought experiments,” she corrects, “but, yes, regardless. I think ‘brainteaser’ is a term more fitting of riddles.”

“Ah, right,” she can hear his smile as he continues, “What five letter word becomes shorter when you add two letters to it?”

(Y/N) smiles in return, “I don’t know.”

“Short.”

“Good one,” she compliments, “What has eyes but can’t see?”

“A potato,” he immediately replies.

“No, me. But I guess that works too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) gently rubs another leaf between her fingers, trying to determine by the texture if it's dying. She’s already cleared away all the dead ones that audibly crunched and crackled under her touch. Her chest still aches a bit from early. She had made her way to the garden after and has been pruning ever since. The lingering tension had drained from her muscles as she cleared away dead leaves and she will continue her work until the ache is gone as well. She’s still learning to cope. Perhaps she’ll never stop feeling the loss and that’s just one more thing she needs to accept is a part of the galaxy she now lives in. Luke is not far. (Y/N) had considered seeking him out, but quickly decided against it. He is aware of the fact that she occasionally has to stumble outside and sit in silence as she tries to collect herself, and she hasn’t ever attempted to hide that as she wants Luke to feel he can openly speak about anything he may struggle with, but (Y/N) has remained determined to handle this on her own. She has no desire to turn Luke into something like a therapy pet, sought out when she’s feeling low and used to calm down. She has no intention of using him as a crutch. (Y/N)’s head suddenly turns away from her work as she senses Luke’s approach. She blinks sightless eyes in his general direction, searching for his blur amongst the blur of the trees across the grounds. She eventually spots the black of his clothing after he rounds the side of the temple. He walks towards her, not offering any greeting or acknowledgement, and then suddenly his feet scuff against the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Luke says because he is still learning too. He’s still learning about all the Force entails, which includes sensing the presence of others but is something he still only does sporadically instead of consistently. She’s always had a lightness to her steps so (Y/N) has taken to touching his arm when approaching him. That is, when her blindly knocking into something doesn’t alert him to her presence first. But there’s nothing she can do when it’s him that unknowingly comes across her. “I don’t mind,” she assures him kindly, “You have a soothing presence.”Luke makes a small noise in the back of his throat as he changes his trajectory and approaches her directly as opposed to unintentionally like before. He says, “Right. Because I remind you of my father.”Her eyebrows rise, surprised that’s how he interpreted what she said. “No, not at all. Your presence isn’t anything like his.”“It isn’t?”(Y/N) takes a brief moment to remind herself that his education is still rather limited and to make a mental note to try and remedy that. She wants Luke to choose his own path, but that shouldn’t stop her from teaching him basic concepts. Only then does she answer, “Every presence is unique. Like a fingerprint,” her hand lifts so she can wiggle her fingers at him, “There’s a part of you that is reminiscent of Anakin and Padmé, but your overall presence is your own.”“Oh,” Luke says, tone a bit strange. (Y/N) swallows her sigh of frustration. It’s moments like this where she is acutely aware of her blindness, as she would love nothing more than to be able to see his face. She isn’t yet familiar enough with Luke to be able to identify all emotions or moods from his voice alone, and his cultivation of proper mental shields has limited her ability to sense the emotions outright.She’s pulled from her musings by Luke’s voice. “I just figured I remind you of him.”“Not really,” her one shoulder bobs in a lazy shrug. She can hear the ground shifting under his feet as he says, “It’s just…Rex says I look a lot like him.”(Y/N)’s head tilts slightly as she reminds him, “I can’t see, Luke. All I can really make out is some of your coloring and that’s hardly enough for me to equate you to Anakin.”“You know I have blue eyes like him.”“Obi-Wan had blue eyes as well. Are you going to say you remind me of him next?”He sighs. She shrugs again, “I don’t know what to tell you, Luke. Looks mean very little to me, especially now. Any resemblance you bear to Anakin is irrelevant to me by extension. Your personality is far more important. And, yes, there are things about you that remind me of Anakin, as well as things that remind me of Padmé. But I hardly consider you as simply a substitute for either of them. You’re your own person. Your presence is your own. Besides, I liked you far before I knew your name. The patience and kindness that you showed to a stubborn old lady insisting it was twenty-three years prior had won me over before I had been given an inkling that you resembled Anakin.”And that’s the truth of the matter. (Y/N) doesn’t know much about his appearance. Rex, and others, had told her about the resemblance between Luke and Anakin. Blue eyes, the same chin. She can see his hair for herself. She thinks he has a small nose. Han’s, for the sake of comparison, is one she can see when looking at his profile. Luke’s is hidden by the veil over her eyes. She has held Luke’s hand enough times to be familiar with its general size and feel and tucked her hand around his arm enough to know he’s strong without being bulky. But these are just a few parts in the overall picture of a person. A handful of pieces for a puzzle. There isn’t enough there for her to properly form an idea in her mind of what Luke looks like. She had never been tempted as Obi-Wan and Anakin had been, but she also hadn’t been blind to the people around her. She had seen faces she liked, felt her interest be piqued throughout her life. Nothing that she knows about Luke sounds unappealing. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. She can’t see him. The gift that the Force had given her on Endor will never happen again. She will never know what Luke looks like. And she’s made her peace with that, as annoying as it can be at times. Regardless of how his appearance might have tickled her fancy in a different life, Luke’s personality is what attracts her to him the most in this one. Which, she thinks, is for the better. Looks, perceivable or not, will fade while someone’s character will stand the tests of time. And, regardless of any sort of romantic aspect coming into play, (Y/N) is in things for the long haul with Luke. She plans on being at his side until the day she dies, so it’s fortuitous that his personality doesn’t repulse her. Unfortunately, she has no way of knowing how Luke feels about this stuff when it comes to her. She had never really heard any complaints about her appearance before, and had none in her absent appraisal of herself over the years, but she isn’t sure if things have changed. (Y/N) doesn’t know if the carbonite altered her appearance in some way. She can see enough to know her hair is at least mostly the usual color. But that doesn’t mean grey or white hasn’t discretely woven itself into strands, or that her roots aren’t beginning to hint at her age as more time passes since her unfreezing. Her face is lost to her. The odd white color of her eyes, the outline of her nose or chin if she finds the correct angle. That’s about it. The finer details are a mystery. Her skin could have been warped by the carbonite. Wrinkles might have formed over the two decades despite her supposedly being suspended in time. Perhaps her body is playing catch-up now, trying to make up for the time lost, and her appearance inches closer to the truth with each passing day. She hasn’t asked anyone for this information. It’s a bit embarrassing of a question to ask. She would be far too uncomfortable to request these details, to voice such vain concerns aloud. Never mind the humiliating ordeal of having to sit there and listen to the response. As for her personality, well, there have definitely been a few complaints over the years. She’s not too caught up on that fact though as, after all, who hasn’t had people they just didn’t get along with? But overall (Y/N) thinks she’s pleasant to be around. Luke certainly hasn’t complained yet. The potentially bigger issue here is the fact that Luke might only ever consider her as one of his father’s friends and therefore not really ever look at her through a different lens than that one. Nothing like him having to fend off the advances of a cougar, even though he and everyone else seem to have come to the consensus that her years in the carbonite are irrelevant to her age, to make their relationship unbearably awkward. Thanks to this nagging concern, (Y/N) will never have the balls to act on any attraction on her end of things. Which is fun. “I see,” Luke says, clearing his throat before continuing, “I guess I still have a lot to learn about the Force.”She offers him a kind smile, “I’ll help you. I apologize for slacking off.”“You don’t need to apologize,” he assures her, “There’s been a lot going on recently. I know you didn’t forget.”(Y/N) inclines her head, silently offering her thanks at his understanding. She says, “Still. I know you’re planning on reading more of the archives, but they can be a little dry. I’ll make an effort to carry my holopad with me more, I often find myself thinking of things and never remembering to write them down later.”“Okay,” he agrees easily. She nods once and returns to her pruning, plucking another leaf from a stem. Perhaps she could chance Luke coming closer to the garden to be her eyes since she will also be here. Maybe her presence will be enough to stave off his knack for killing her plants.  As if hearing her thoughts, Luke walks closer. He stays outside of the garden, but his closeness implies he’s examining the contents within. She picks a few berries that are colorful enough to let her know they’re ripe and offers them out to him. She’s able to make out Luke’s hand coming closer, dipping below hers so she can easily drop the small handful into his expectant palm. She picks a few more for herself and smiles softly as the sweet, somewhat tart juice spills over her tongue. “I know you just said looks don’t mean much to you,” Luke says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them, “but I still want you to know that I think you’re beautiful.”(Y/N)‘s eyes instinctively flicker over to him even though she can’t see him. Her cheeks warm as she continues to chew the berries.  *** (Y/N) rolls her shoulders absently as she returns to the Temple. They had carried tension earlier in the day that has the muscles complaining now. Perhaps she’ll ask Luke to spar later this afternoon so that mild discomfort will turn into a deeper, more productive ache from exertion during the bout. She fiddles with her holopad absently, looking down at the dark screen. She had been writing after breakfast, as she had promised Luke she would endeavor to do more, and had managed to get on her own nerves by writing herself in circles for the better part of an hour. She had been trying to analyze the Jedi Code, particularly the ‘There is no passion, there is serenity’ line. A concept that, frankly, both of them fail spectacularly at. (Y/N) had tried to come to terms with that and find a proper stance to have on the matter, but had quickly gotten swept up in contradictions and her own self-doubt about how she was the last person that should be entrusted with rebuilding the Order and that Luke would be better off running for the hills than trying to ask for her advice or input. Thus, she had decided to go for a walk to get away from it all, seeking out the nearby lake for a different kind of solitude. She had brought her holopad with her, which admittedly does appear to be rather counterproductive to her efforts to leave her frustrations behind but that she had done anyway in the event she thought of something while at the lake and wanted to jot it down. Not much had come to her during her time by the water, but she had gone for a brief swim which helped cool her down. (Y/N) had then ventured to Wetyin’s for a late lunch, and is now finally returning to the Temple. Hopefully Luke ate already and hasn’t been waiting for her. Her foot catches on a sizable stone, promptly pulling her from her train of thought, and she stumbles badly. It’s not enough to bring her to the ground, but it’s a close thing. Her hands fly forward instinctively to brace herself in the event she had fallen and her feet scuffle in rapid steps to quickly regain balance. Luke calls her name and she can hear him bounding over to her. As she straightens, his arms find her. His voice is panicked as he asks, “Are you alright?”“Yes,” (Y/N) assures him, “I’m fine. I don’t need you to hold me.” Which is a bit harsh, but…she just doesn’t want him to think that she’s helpless. The holopad had flown from her hand in the initial scramble, coming to fall somewhere on the ground in front of her, but, for the life of her, (Y/N) can’t spot it. It feels like the damn thing is mocking her. “I wasn’t holding you,” Luke says despite having an arm very clearly still tucked around her to help her find her footing. He also doesn’t seem bothered by her uncharacteristically harder tone. “I just wanted a hug, is all.”(Y/N) offers an unconvinced hum, a smile pulling at her lips despite her best efforts. Her arm is draped across his back and she can feel the fabric of his shirt is warmed from being under the sun for a prolonged time. “Were you messing with my garden again?”“Just watering,” he is quick to assure her, “nothing drastic enough to do any harm. It was hot and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”Appeased by that, because someone who grew up on a desert planet where water conservation was a matter of life and death wouldn’t ever run the risk of over-watering something, she looks over her shoulder to try and orient herself amongst the green. She asks, “Was that rock always there?”“No,” is Luke’s too quick reply. (Y/N) fixes her unseeing gaze on him now, “Are you lying?”“…Yes.”She pouts, eyes squinting as she looks around, “My approach must have been off,” she sighs, “That’s annoying.”“You’ll figure it out eventually,” he tells her. “So sure?”“Absolutely. I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t do if you set your mind to it.”(Y/N) looks at him skeptically as they finally separate. His words are genuine and innocently offered, and yet she can’t help but see how aptly they provide comfort and work as a balm for the worries that had plagued her all day. “What?” Luke asks, “Something on my face?”“Funny,” she says flatly before answering his question, “It often feels like you can read my mind.”“Ah. Well, I can assure you that I can’t,” Luke tells her, and it almost sounds like he’s annoyed by that fact with how he practically grumbles the words. “It sounds as if you wish things were different,” she observes teasingly. “It would certainly make certain things easier,” he vaguely explains. Her eyebrow quirks, and she asks, amused, “Ah, but where would be the fun in that? Tell me, did anything interesting happen while I was away?”“Not too much. I spoke with Leia, I think we should head back to Coruscant tomorrow.”(Y/N) nods her agreement. Leia’s pregnancy has reached full term, she is due to give birth soon. It went without speaking that they would be there to provide support during that time so it was only fitting that they make the journey soon. A thought occurs to her, “Did you fix that problem with the engine?”“Yes,” Luke answers and then is quiet for a beat as he moves a step or two away from her. He soon returns and is pressing her holopad back into her hands as he continues, “It should make the trip without issue, but I’m not sure how many flights it has left. It wouldn’t hurt to shop for a new ship while we’re on Coruscant.”(Y/N) can’t help but purse her lips, “We’d probably be better off buying directly. You never have to search long on Coruscant before you’ll find a scammer.” The shiny appearance of Coruscant is just that: an appearance. If one were to look a bit closer, peek behind the curtain to see what exists below the surface, they would be shocked to learn just how seedy a planet it actually is. “Because Corelia, home world of the likes of Han Solo, is sure to boast a much better class of citizen,” he says sarcastically. She laughs lightly, “A fair point.” *** “I swear,” Luke huffs irritability, “I am never going anywhere that has snow again.”(Y/N) grins as she reminds him, “This isn’t a snow planet.”“That’s not what I said. I mean that I will never go to any planet where there’s even the remotest possibility of snowfall. If you want to go somewhere in the future, I’m going to do extensive research first and if there’s even one day in all of the planet’s recorded history where there was snow then you’ll have to find someone else to go with.”She switches her cane to her other hand so she can brush a small pile of snow off of his shoulder. She remarks, “You’re the one who walked directly under the end of that awning. What did you think was going to happen?”“Are you seriously defending an inanimate object right now?” Luke asks. “As opposed to picking a fight with it? Or accusing it of having a vendetta against me?”“Yes.”She smiles and shakes her head fondly. “Well?” Luke needles. “What do you want me to say? I like the snow.”“Yeah,” he scoffs lightly, “because it doesn’t have a vendetta against you.”“The contrast helps me see better,” she clarifies, “The white makes everything else stand out better.”“Don’t you get that on Yavin with all the green?”“It’s not nearly as contrasting or consistent.”“We live in a forest,” Luke protests, “We’re surrounded by trees. That sounds pretty consistent to me.”“It’s not the same green,” she insists. She lifts her hand to mimic the different layers as she explains, “The tops of the trees are a lighter green, then there’s the darker green of the leaves that aren’t hit by direct sunlight due to the higher branches, then there’s the dark shadows from the shade below that. And even if the green was consistent, it’s nowhere near as contrasting a color as white is.”“Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me.”Luke’s pace slows, so she slows her own as well. He tells her, “This is the entrance to the dock.”(Y/N) peers up at the building, finding nothing about the grey blur to be particularly familiar. She merely shrugs, “If you say so.”They enter the dock and do not have to travel far given the small size before reaching their ship. “R2?” (Y/N) calls out as she climbs the ramp, “We’re back.”The droid whistles as he wheels into view. “Didn’t have to fight off any scavengers, did you?”He beeps. “Good,” (Y/N) nods and then turns to ask Luke, “You think you’ll be able to make the repairs? It didn’t sound like you got what you wanted.”The engine had indeed held for most of the journey to Coruscant, and likely would have made the last leg too if not for the hyperdrive giving out. Rather than continue their trip at a glacial pace, drastically delaying their arrival as well as leaving them prime target for pirates, they had decided to detour to the planet closest to the point in space where the failing hyperdrive had unceremoniously dumped them. Luke had taken the lead on their excursion to buy parts, seeing as he both knew what they needed and could actually see the desired items within the small shop they had found. (Y/N) had lingered by the front windows where she could faintly watch sunlight catch the shiny metal of the displays there, only half-listening to Luke as he spoke to the shop owner. Luke bends down to place the crate of supplies on the floor as he answers her, “I didn’t, but I found a good substitute that should get the job done. And we’re definitely getting a new ship, whether it be on Coruscant and we have it shipped there from somewhere else, I never want to set foot on this piece of junk again.”“Is it that bad?” she asks, frowning at him as he climbs down into the engine room. “No,” he replies easily, “but why not abuse my connections and get a new ship rather than risk getting stranded with this one somewhere again?”(Y/N) sits down on the floor by the opening, absently twirling a wrench with her fingers as she listens to Luke move something heavy down below. “Are you sure I can’t help?”“Not unless you’ve suddenly regained your sight.”She grumbles wordlessly. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”(Y/N) sighs, “I just don’t like sitting here doing nothing. We’ll be cutting it close thanks to this setback. And four hands are better than two.”R2 raspberries from the monitor he’s stationed by. “Sorry,” she lifts her hands appeasingly, “Two hands and an astrodroid.”Luke’s voice is closer to her knee when he says, “We weren’t-Can you slide that closer?”(Y/N) silently pushes the crate to the edge of the opening in the floor. “Thanks. We weren’t going to be of much use anyway, I just wanted to be there for moral support…And to keep them from killing each other due to stress.”“Han and Leia’s natural state of being is being at each other’s throats.” (Y/N) hasn’t know them for very long, but she still knows that. “Yeah,” Luke says as he climbs lower into the engine room, “well my sister’s about to give birth and I’d prefer it if her husband was actually being helpful for once.”“Strong words,” she observes. His hand swats the bottom of her boot, “You know what I mean. Han’s my best friend and I know he loves Leia, but he’s still a moron.” He makes a quiet noise of effort as he tries to do…something mechanic-related. “Love makes fools of us all.”Luke doesn’t speak immediately and she can sense how he’s stilled below her. He eventually asks, “Do you really think that?”(Y/N) nods even though he can’t see her due to his positioning, “Yes.”She listens as something is yanked free from wherever it was situated and then there’s a loud bang like Luke hadn’t expected whatever he was fiddling with to give out so quickly and therefore hadn’t anticipated the kickback and smacked either the object or himself against something. “Everything alright down there?” she inquires. “Yes,” Luke grunts, climbing back up and dropping the heavy object onto the floor near her leg. Instead of returning to his task, he rests his arms on the floor as well and stays by her knees as he asks, “If you think that, why aren’t you advocating for the ‘no attachments’ rule?”(Y/N) tilts her head to the side as she looks at his blurry face, “Attachment isn’t necessarily love.”“I love Leia,” he says, “And you haven’t tried to separate us.”“I would never do that,” she immediately tells him. She knows that isn’t how he meant it, but she still wants to assure him of that fact. She is prepared to fight tooth and nail for what remains of this broken little family. “I know you wouldn’t,” he assures her, “but the question remains. I expected more pushback on the matter given what happened.”(Y/N) nods in understanding. Anakin’s love and attachment to Padmé had been his undoing. It had destroyed the man she had known. It had led to the massacre of the Jedi. It had resulted in Obi-Wan’s death. It’s reasonable for Luke to expect her to have a reactionary response to all of that and discourage any attachment. “I don’t want to throw out the whole bushel just because of one bad apple. Attachments existed within the Order whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. Masters and Padawans, friends who grew up together, Jedi Knights who came to know each other in adulthood. It was not a romantic attachment, but a connection was there all the same. And I refuse to believe love is wrong, whether it be romantic, familial, platonic, communal. I had attachments to and felt love for people, and I think I came out alright. From what I’ve seen, the same can be said for you. Anakin’s love for Padmé was not innately bad. The problem is that he allowed himself to be manipulated by someone who wielded that love as a weapon.”“I’ve been manipulated before,” Luke cuts in. “Have you?” she asks genuinely. “Yes. When I was on Dagobah, I saw a vision of Leia and Han in pain. Master Yoda and Ben both told me not to go, they warned me that nothing good would come from it. But I went anyway.”(Y/N) purses her lips slightly. Whether his vision had been his own or perhaps something Anakin had manifested into the Force as a trap, Luke had shown impulsivity in that moment. She already knows the story of Bespin: Luke went, got his hand cut off, and Leia escaped without his aid. Motivated solely by love for Leia and Han, Luke had ignored advice and knowingly put himself in harm’s way. Though, she swallows her sigh, how strongly can (Y/N) judge him for that? Had she not done similarly in the past? There are countless times that she risked her life to save others that she cared about. Even in Sirbuh’s facility, the inciting incident for the complete reshuffling of her life, (Y/N) had deliberately put herself in harm’s way purely out of the desire to protect Anakin. “And on the second Death Star,” Luke continues, unaware of her inner monologue, “my father made threats towards Leia.”Her shoulders immediately tighten and (Y/N) asks with a deadly calm, “He threatened Leia?” She’s about five seconds away from clawing her way into the fabric of the Force, finding what remains of Anakin’s soul, and ripping him a new one. “No,” Luke quickly says, “not like that. He found out about her and then said that if I wouldn’t turn to the dark side maybe she would.”Ire slightly doused, (Y/N)’s muscles relax. “I played right into his and the Emperor’s hands and attacked him. My anger and need to protect her is what finally gave me the strength to overpower him.”Her thumb taps against the wrench she still holds. Again, she must question just how harshly can she judge Luke for his reaction. If Palpatine had possessed the balls to threaten Anakin or Obi-Wan in front of her, would (Y/N) have had the strength to not lash out? Probably not. Simply hearing secondhand about Leia once being threatened by people who are now dead had been enough to set her teeth on edge. Luke’s sister, his only remaining family, had been threatened with a fate worse than death. Could Luke’s anger and desire to save her from such a thing truly be such a sin?“There are other times too, I’m sure,” he says, “…When I realized my uncle and aunt were in danger, I raced home even when Ben had told me it was too dangerous,” he offers a single, sad laugh, “There’s another one. The troopers were already gone, thankfully, but I could have easily been killed or captured. I’m not like you, (Y/N).”“I am not without flaw, Luke,” she is quick to tell him, “Perhaps I have not been so severely swayed by attachment as you, but I have made mistakes. I allowed my ego and pride to influence me many times.”“I’ve acted on my pride, too, though,” Luke interjects, sounding morose, “I thought I stood a chance against my father on Bespin.”“How old were you at the time? Twenty?”“Twenty-two.”“Okay,” she huffs, “so how about cutting yourself a break? Have you grossly overestimated yourself since then?”“No.”“Then I would say you’ve learned your lesson. You’re far too critical of yourself, you know? I have taken far longer to learn my own lessons and you don’t hear me considering myself a lost cause…Perhaps I should,” she remarks after a beat as it dawns on her that perhaps she should consider herself that, “Maybe my ego still needs taming.”“No,” Luke says, shifting closer, sounding far more impassioned while talking about her than he had while talking about himself, “No, you’re not a lost cause. Don’t ever think that about yourself.”“Ditto,” she retorts sharply. He doesn’t immediately speak, either shocked into silence by her harsher tone or because he’s considering her reply.  (Y/N) sighs and says more gently, “We’re both still learning, Luke. The best Jedi never stop learning. You’ve told me about your prior errors in judgment and your concern that you may repeat past mistakes,” she rests her hand on his, “Thank you for trusting me with that information. I promise to act as a second pair of eyes in the matter. Figuratively speaking, of course. If, in the future, I believe your judgment is being clouded by love or attachment, I will say something. One lesson I have definitely learned is to speak my mind.”“Will you really?” Luke asks. “Of course,” she promises. His other hand comes to rest on top of hers, “And I promise to make sure any ego or pride of yours is checked. Though, I do have to say I think you’re incredibly humble.”“I wasn’t always,” (Y/N) tells him quietly, melancholy joining the regret that has made a permanent place for itself in her bones. “I know,” Luke says, and he sounds truly genuine when he says that as opposed to just offering some empty platitude to shut her up, “We’re both still learning.”(Y/N) nods silently. This feels distinctively different from how things were during the war. She had lamented the unspoken policy of self-policing employed then as it had come from a place of mistrust. The Jedi had studiously watched each other for any sign that they might be slipping as others had before. Always on the watch for the next Dooku or Krell or Offee. What she and Luke had just promised to do, in comparison, had been based in genuine concern for one another. Out of her caring for him, (Y/N) will make sure Luke doesn’t slip. What’s more is that it’s something specific that she will be watching for, as opposed to just a general suspicion about everything. She will not feel compelled to question every action or consider if every word spoken may carry a double meaning or hint at growing dissent. Any conversation regarding the matter will be open and trusting, not accusatory. And Luke will do the same for her. This promise to keep an eye on each other’s blind spots will help them both become better versions of themselves. She offers him a kind smile, squeezing the hand that hers still rests on. He squeezes her hand in return, “Alright. Give me that wrench and let’s get the hell off this planet before any more snow falls.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“We’re here,” Luke announces as he knocks on the open door, “Is everyone decent?”

“Decent at what?” Han asks from somewhere within the room.

“You can come in,” Leia’s voice calls, acting as if Han hadn’t spoken.

Luke steps into the room and (Y/N) follows with a hand lightly resting by his elbow. They walk past what must be the bathroom and a small storage space, cleverly positioned by the entrance of the room to offer some additional privacy for where the bed and chairs are when the door is open as it is. No doubt hospital staff is in and out of the room at all hours, no sense in constantly opening and closing the door. They then reach a more brightly lit area of the room. She can’t really see much, the designer of this particular hospital had apparently been a big fan of white, but can easily sense Leia, Han, and the baby.

(Y/N) releases Luke’s arm to allow him to approach the bed.

“Congratulations,” he says and she can hear some light patting to indicate he and Han just hugged in greeting.

“Thanks, kid,” Han replies, making his tone gruff as if he isn’t over the moon right now.

Luke then steps closer to Leia and likely offers her a gentle hug as he murmurs something quietly by her ear. Whatever he says earns a light laugh from Leia and then he steps back.

(Y/N) clears her throat and offers, “Congratulations to the both of you. I’ve made about a million blankets,” she lowers the heavy bag from her shoulder to set it down against a wall and out of everyone’s way, “so I brought some for you.”

“Thank you,” Leia says warmly.

“You’re knitting now?” Han asks, amused, “You really are an old woman.”

(Y/N) fixes her unseeing eyes on him and asks, unspoken threat in her voice, “Do you not want them?”

“No, no. Didn’t say that,” he replies, tone indicating Leia is probably glaring at him over potentially cheating her out of blankets for herself and the baby.

She follows the black of Luke’s shirt across the room and quickly discovers two chairs placed on the far side of the bed. He takes the one closer to Leia and she easily settles into the one beside it as he asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Leia says, “Tired, but better.”

“Was it long?” (Y/N) inquires. She doesn’t know a great deal about childbirth, most of her knowledge coming from what Padmé spoke about during her pregnancy, but she does know that labor can take several hours.

“About ten hours,” Leia informs her, “so not too bad.”

“That’s because you were able to distract yourself for most of that time by working,” Han interjects, “It felt like forever to me.”

Luke huffs, “You brought work to the hospital?”

“I’m a busy woman, Luke. Now come over here and meet your niece.”

“Sorry, I thought she was sleeping.”

“That’s about all she does,” Han says, “If you want to wait until she’s awake to hold her, come back in a year or so.”
A smile pulls at (Y/N)’s lips as Luke rises from his seat to approach Leia. After a brief shuffle, Luke returns to his seat, instinctively making soft shushing noises at the baby held in his arms even though she isn’t fussing. 
“What’s her name?” (Y/N) asks, squinting briefly at the bundle to see if she can make out any details.

“Breha,” Leia supplies fondly.

(Y/N) offers a smile in her general direction.

“She’s beautiful,” Luke says quietly, “Good job, Leia.”

“It was a group effort,” Han reminds him.

“I don’t recall the midwife droid repeatedly shoving that apparatus into your birthing canal,” Leia remarks.

“My role may have been more centered in the first act but I still contributed.”
“Please stop making me picture you and my sister having sex,” Luke pipes in to request. 
Leia quickly asks before Han can continue to do just that, “Where’s R2?”

“At the apartment,” Luke provides, “I wasn’t sure how big the room was or how many visitors you had today. Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I’m sure he was thrilled about that.”

“Oh, yes. I nearly went deaf.”

“Now all you need is someone who’s mute and you’ll be a full set,” Han observes. 
(Y/N) tilts her head as she inquires, voice as sickly sweet as her smile, “Are you volunteering?”
“If he isn’t, then I’m nominating him,” Leia says flatly.

“Hey,” Han protests.

Leia ignores him, instead asking, “Would you like to hold her, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) smiles excitedly, “May I?”

“Of course.”

She stays seated, letting Luke stand to make the transfer rather than trying to fumble her way through it herself. She hasn’t held many babies in her lifetime, but knows the basics of it well enough to position her arms appropriately and wait for Luke to set the child within them. He does just so and she shifts slightly to cradle Breha close to her chest. Her heart aches as the little bundle settles against her. She is doing what neither Anakin or Padmé will ever be able to do. Anakin is nothing more than a lingering presence in the Force, he will never be able to hold his grandchild. Padmé is gone forever, she will never be able to even see the little girl. The ache deepens. Padmé had only ever seen Luke and Leia at this age, and briefly at that.

They are both gone. Their chance at experiencing their own family is gone. (Y/N) is instead the one who has a relationship with their children, the one who will watch their granddaughter grow up.

She peers down at Breha. Unfortunately, the newborn’s small, delicate features are hidden from her view. They cannot be perceived through the veil that covers her eyes and so she can see nothing more than Breha’s coloring: pale skin and a dusting of dark hair where it peeks out from her little cap. The back of (Y/N)’s finger carefully brushes across a soft, pudgy cheek. Breha doesn’t squirm or fuss, content to just be held and be warm.

“Aren’t you sweet?” (Y/N) murmurs quietly to her.

“Where are Chewie and 3PO?” Luke asks, clearly speaking to Leia and Han even though the way his voice hits (Y/N)’s ear says he’s looking at her and Breha. 
“At home,” Leia replies, “Can you imagine 3PO in a hospital?”
(Y/N) huffs quietly in amusement, easily picturing just how much of a disaster that would be.

“Yes,” Luke says, “And now I see just how foolish of a question that was.”

“Exactly. His skills were better suited for baby-proofing.”
“Chewie’ll probably rip my arms off the next time he sees me for saddling him with the professor,” Han remarks absently, “but it’s worth it for the relative peace and quiet we’ve had here.”
“I am growing a little tired of staff coming in the room at all hours of the day, though,” Leia sighs.

“We’ll be home soon,” Han assures her in an unexpectedly sweet and genuine effort to offer comfort. A smile pulls at (Y/N)‘s lips, pleased to see the man does possess a softer side and that Leia is the recipient of it.

She lifts her gaze from Breha’s blurry face to ask Luke, “Is it clear?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, shifting beside her to check for wires or discarded slippers or anything else that her feet could get tangled in. He eventually tells her, “Yes,” and leaves it at that. One thing she will always appreciate is that Luke never overextends his aide. He checked the floor for her, but did not offer to just take Breha and bring her to Leia himself. He has always understood her need for independence and to not be treated like a useless invalid while also efficiently offering assistance where she needed it.

(Y/N) easily rises from her seat and approaches the side of the bed, bending down so Leia doesn’t have to reach far to take Breha. Once her hands are free, (Y/N) rests one on her shoulder and says warmly, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Leia answers, equally as warm. 
 
***
 
(Y/N)’s hand lifts briefly to rub the heel of her palm into her eye, encouraging the ache to fade.

Returning to Coruscant has not been easy. She had settled on Yavin, made a nice little routine for herself. She’s grown used to the smells, the silence, the feeling in the air. Being back on Coruscant, with its loud traffic, lingering wrongness because of Palpatine’s prolonged residence here, and the loud emptiness radiating from the old Jedi Temple, (Y/N) is left unbalanced.

Put plainly: she didn’t sleep a wink last night after arriving in the late evening. And now, on her second night here, her struggles to find sleep persist. It’s not for a lack of tiredness. No, no. She has plenty of that by now.

(Y/N) sighs in frustration, going back to undo the loop she had just messed up. The problem is not that she isn’t tired, but that she just can’t relax enough to fall asleep. She had stayed in her bed last night, mainly out of stubbornness, tossing and turning until morning came and she sensed Luke moving around in the kitchen. Tonight, she is sitting on the couch. The holo is on, just for the sake of noise other than rumbling engines and blaring horns, but she isn’t paying it much attention beyond that. She’s crocheting…or at least trying to. Her tired fingers aren’t doing a very good job. She reaches the end of the row and traces back down her most recent work, brow furrowing as she explores. (Y/N) sighs, tossing down her hook in frustration, and starts tearing out the yarn. There had been at least three mistakes, likely more that she just hadn’t felt.

(Y/N) shifts on the couch, eyelids drooping slightly. There’s an infomercial on right now about a blender with fifteen different settings. She wonders absently how someone could ever possibly require that many options on a blender. She should probably change the channel before these silly commercials rot her brain.

She jumps suddenly, jerking awake from the light sleep she had slipped into without realizing it. What had awoken her this time?

“Sorry,” Luke says quietly, unknowingly answering her question, hand squeezing her arm, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) murmurs, “Did you need something?”
“No, but you do.”
She hums in question. 
“Sleep,” he provides. 
“Ah,” she offers lamely.

It’s his turn to hum.

“I’ll head to bed, then,” (Y/N) says. Her fingers are still woven in the yard where they had been as she drifted off, halfway through undoing her shoddy work.

“Will you actually sleep tonight?”
“Pardon?” she asks, not following. 
Luke sighs, though he doesn’t sound frustrated as he repeats himself, “Will you actually sleep tonight?”

“What else does one do at night in bed?”

“You tell me,” is his odd reply. 
(Y/N) looks at him with sightless eyes, brow furrowing. The only source of light is the holo and his back is to it, casting his face in shadow. She can just barely make out the shape of his jaw from the angle of the lighting. 
“Do you want to come bed with me?”

Her eyebrows rise and she suddenly feels much more awake, “What?”

“You didn’t sleep last night,” Luke says plainly, “and you haven’t gotten much tonight. Would you like to stay with me? Maybe that would help?”

She shakes her head, confused, “How do you know I didn’t sleep last night?”

“Because I know you, (Y/N),” he replies, hand leaving her arm. She feels his touch at her hands a moment later as he carefully untangles her fingers from the yarn. He continues, “Come lay down, try to get some rest.”

She nods after he finishes freeing her, “Okay.”

His hand brushes over hers one final time and then he pulls away. There’s a quiet clatter liking from him putting her yard and hook on the table and then Luke must turn off the holo because the room suddenly goes dark. Only the faintest amount of light from the windows remains, leaving her completely blind. (Y/N) pushes herself up off the couch and Luke waits until she has found her footing before gently enclosing his hand around her wrist and leading her away. Her shin promptly smacks against the edge of the caf table, because of course it does, making her wince. That’ll make a nice bruise.

“Sorry,” he says, thumb brushing along her skin.

“It’s okay. Do we have a blender?” she asks.

Luke doesn’t immediately answer, likely thrown by the sudden change in topic. “Yes?”

“How many settings does it have?”

“Uh…five, I think? Maybe six. Why?”

“I saw, actually ‘heard’ would be the better word, an ad about one with fifteen.”
“Oh. That seems a bit excessive,” he muses. 
“I thought so,” she says lightly in reply.

She’s never been in Luke’s room before, so (Y/N) lets him walk her all the way to the side of the bed. A light on the other side is on at its lowest setting, allowing her to see Luke’s blurry figure walk around to the empty side of the bed. She swings her legs up onto the mattress and lays down, head coming to rest on one of the pillows.

“Is it the noise?” Luke asks her after he’s also settled down and pulled the sheet back up.

“It’s everything,” she murmurs, “The noise, the Force, the memories.”
Tears do not gather in her eyes, but (Y/N) thinks they would if she had not been raised the way she had. “Palpatine has stolen this planet from me. Even in death, he keeps it out of reach. This is the only home I have any real memory of and he has made it so I can never be here.”
What else does she have besides Coruscant? Her home world, which is nothing more than a handful of hazy memories that fade further with each passing day? The various ships she has been shuffled around on? No. She knows Yavin IV will one day feel like home, but it doesn’t yet feel like that. Not while she’s still learning it.

“I’m sorry,” Luke tells her. She can hear him shifting beside her and then his hand is brushing over hers.

(Y/N) turns her hand over on the bed so their palms touch. They lay there in silence for a while.

“Palpatine took my family from me,” he says quietly, “I only knew my mother for my first breaths and my father for his last. His soldiers killed my uncle and aunt. I’ve lost two sets of parents and missed almost two decades of time I should have spent with Leia.”

“I’m sorry,” she echoes him. Because, at the end of the day, what more can be said?

His hand shifts slightly where it rests on top of hers.

“You survived the loss,” she tells him, “That’s the hardest part. You’ll survive the recovery. You’re stronger than you know, did you know that?”

(Y/N) isn’t sure when she rolled to her side or when Luke rolled to his or when the distance between them had become smaller. But she can tell all of this has happened because she can feel each of Luke’s exhales against her skin. She can’t see a damn thing in the dark, but Luke certainly can. So she keeps her unseeing gaze aimed down towards where their hands are still linked together.

Luke presses his palm more firmly against hers, “Alright, now you wait here while I go fetch a mirror so you can say all of that again. I know you won’t be able to see yourself, but it’s the thought that counts.”
(Y/N)’s eyes snap up abruptly, previous shyness forgotten. She’s caught somewhere between wanting to laugh because she loves whenever Luke deigns to make a joke like that and just…utter adoration at how clever and thoughtful he is. Her lips part softly despite her having absolutely no idea what is going to come out of her mouth in that moment. 
Ultimately, it ends up being a yawn so big it makes her jaw joint crack. Her cheeks immediately warm.

Luke only laughs lightheartedly and tells her, “Try to get some rest.”

Her mouth stays open for a moment longer as she continues to search for her words. She doesn’t quite know how to articulate what she’s feeling right now. And the…alternatives to words that would still get the message across, well, she knows even less about. Luke falls back asleep as she continues to mull things over, leaving (Y/N) to fiddle with his hand as she listens to his quiet breathing. Sleep soon finds her as well, mind finally quieting enough to let her drift off. 
 
***
 
“Morning,” Luke says from the counter. 
“You didn’t snore,” (Y/N) offers in lieu of a normal response.
He’s quiet for a beat. “…Okay?”

“You have before.” She reaches for one of the chairs at the island, grimacing as she smacks the bones of her knuckles against it when she misjudges the distance, and pulls it out to sit down.

“When did we sleep together?”

She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the phrasing.

He clicks his tongue, “You know what I meant.”
“Whenever you fall asleep on the couch like an old man,” she provides. 
“Oh. Do I?” He places a cup in front of her.

“Yes.”

Luke hums in thought.

“Maybe it’s a matter of positioning,” she theorizes, brushing her fingers against the cup to test how much the caf has warmed it, “Laying down versus being somewhat upright. If that’s the case, you get that from your father.”
“Really?” he asks, smile audible. “Yes. If Anakin’s positioning wasn’t perfect he would make the whole ship rattle.”
Luke laughs.

“What’s the plan for today?” (Y/N) asks, lifting the cup to take a small sip.

“Well, as you know, I made the horrible mistake of mentioning that we were going to buy a new ship while here. So now I’ll have to deal with Han tagging along as I shop around. He’s going to be unbearable with all of his questions and requirements.”

“The delicate genius,” she mutters.

“Quite. I was hoping you’d be willing to stay with Leia so she isn’t alone at the hospital?”

“Of course,” she easily agrees, “R2 and I will keep her company.”

“Good. Thank you. I’m sure she isn’t thrilled about her husband rushing out to go shopping for a ship that he won’t even be flying while she’s on bedrest.”

“I doubt Leia would have married Han if she had a huge objection to his love for flying.”

“Fair point.”
 
***
 
“What’s your deal with caf?” (Y/N) asks, “You drink it on Yavin, but tend to decline when we’re elsewhere.”

“I’m picky,” Luke easily admits, “It tends to be hit or miss, so I play it safe most times and turn it down.”

“Ah. Well, don’t drink what they have here.”

“No?”

“No. This stuff could eat a hole through your stomach.”

He laughs.

“You better not be talking poorly about my caf again,” Dex’s boisterous voice announces his approach better than his thundering footsteps ever could.

Upon her return to Coruscant, (Y/N) had soon discovered that Dex’s diner was still open. On one of the days where Luke was out of the apartment going to various meetings, she had finagled her way to the diner rather than just sitting around and waiting for his return. Dex had nearly cracked a rib while hugging her and they had sat in a booth for hours playing catch-up. She had been back to the diner a few times since then, even bringing Lando on one occasion when he had free time between meetings of his own, but this was the first time Luke had accompanied her.

(Y/N) turns her head to offer an innocent smile, “Of course not.”

He grumbles wordlessly, yet good-naturedly, and briefly rests his large hand atop her head. He then asks, “Who’s your friend?”

“Luke Skywalker,” she provides, “And, Luke, this is Dex Jettster. He’s the owner of this fine establishment.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Luke greets.

“Skywalker, eh? Any chance you’re related to Anakin Skywalker?” Dex asks, cutting right to the chase as he often does, “Certainly look like it.”

“Yes, actually. He’s my father.”

Dex grumbles in thought, “I don’t suppose you’ve also stumbled across a kid of Obi-Wan’s as well?”

“Not yet,” (Y/N) replies.

“Ah, well. Should I bring you a menu, son? I already know what the lady likes.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“We aren’t staying,” (Y/N) adds, “I just know FLO doesn’t like it when people crowd the counter, so we snagged a booth.”

“If only all my patrons were are mindful as you, (Y/N),” Dex says fondly, hand resting on her head again, “I’ll box up your regular order then. Caf as well, extra stomach lining eater?”

She grins, “Make it two of each, actually, we’re on our way to meet friends.”

“Jawa juice while you wait?”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she says with a shrug.

Luke huffs in amusement from the other side of the booth. After Dex lumbers away, he tells her, “Han might kiss you if that caf is for him.”

“I’ll fend him off. After he complained about that hospital instant stuff multiple times yesterday, I just couldn’t let him suffer another day of that swill.”

“And the second order of your ‘regular’?”

“For Leia,” she provides, “The only thing worse than hospital caf is the food. Dex’s cooking will have her ready to be discharged within an hour.”

“We don’t deserve you, (Y/N),” Luke says fondly. 
 
***
 
Based on what she heard, it appears Han almost fell over himself in his rush to get the cup of caf she had brought him. Luckily she hadn’t needed to fend off any errant lip action after all as her hands had been too preoccupied with her own cup and the two containers of food to put up a fight. Luke and Han had left shortly after to go shopping for a new ship and, after positioning R2 by the door as a lookout, (Y/N) and Leia had dug into their meal.

After tiding up, an effort that included a fun game of ‘hot and cold’ as Leia helped (Y/N) maneuver the room in search for the trash bin, (Y/N) had been able to retrieve Breha from her bassinet and hold her for a while.

“You like it on Yavin IV?” Leia asks, breaking the brief silence that had developed after the conclusion of their previous conversation.

“Yes,” (Y/N) nods, “It’s nice there. I’ve even managed to make some friends in Wetyin’s and there are plenty of things for me to do.”

Purple covers Leia’s legs now, as opposed to the white that had been there yesterday. One of her blankets has already been put to use. (Y/N)’s chest still warms pleasantly every time the color catches her eye.

“I heard. Luke mentioned you have quite the green thumb.”

“He over-embellishes,” she says dismissively.

“I don’t think so,” Leia protests, “My understanding is it’s solely your doing that anything is alive.”
“Well that’s more of a reflection on his own complete lack of skill rather than an over abundance on my behal-” her words are abruptly cut off by a rather loud cry. (Y/N)’s eyebrows rise slightly and she looks down at Breha, inquiring, “Was it something I said?”
“I think she’s hungry,” Leia explains, “That sounded like her usual ‘feed me’ cry.”

(Y/N) nods absently, “I can hold her for a moment so you can get situated?”

“Thank you.”
She raises from her seat and crosses the short distance between her chair and the bed. She carefully finds Breha’s tiny nose and uses that as a benchmark to brush her fingers under the baby’s eyes without there being any risk of accidentally poking them. When she finds no wetness there, (Y/N) remarks, “A-ha, I think your mother was right. Little faker.”
There’s quiet shuffling on the bed and a moment later Leia is saying, “Okay, I’ll take her now.”

(Y/N) looks down to try and spot the hands that should be reaching for Breha. She carefully returns the baby to her mother and then reclaims her seat. She quickly tells Leia, “I can’t see anything, by the way,” as she waves her hand in front of her eyes, not wanting the other woman to feel like she’s exposed. (Y/N) can see that the white of Leia’s hospital gown has moved to reveal more of the pale color of her skin, but any details beyond that are lost to her.

“I know,” Leia replies easily.

(Y/N) nods but still turns her head to the side slightly, worried that she may still feel a bit unsettled. (Y/N) isn’t sure how comfortable she would feel pulling her boob out in front of someone even with the assurance that they couldn’t see it.  
“Have you considered surgery?” Leia asks after a moment. “I have,” her fingers tap on her knee, “but I’m hesitant to inflict more trauma on my eyes. I’ve retained some of my sight, I would hate to squander it by going under the knife.”
“What about cybernetics?” Leia proposes, “If it was the carbonite and not result of the hibernation sickness, it would likely just be the eyes themselves that are damaged and not the nerves.”

Her nose wrinkles, “I’m not sure how I feel about embedding metal into my skull. I’ve made my peace with it. There are far worse fates.”

What remains of her sight feels like mercy. The carbonite could have stolen away her vision entirely, but fate had deigned to soften the blow of the rest of her loss by letting her keep a part of it. (Y/N) worries that to try and reverse or circumvent her damaged eyes could anger whatever benevolent force had spared her. She has her life, her freedom, her health, the Force, some of her sight. She is not very lucky, but is still luckier than most.

“I understand.” Leia’s words stop there and she appears to be content with finishing that particular discussion, but (Y/N) can sense that there is still something on her mind.

“Is there something more you wanted to talk to me about?” she asks kindly.

Leia is quiet for a moment before finally admitting, “Yes, actually, there was. I’ve thought about it on and off, our conversation on Endor.”

(Y/N) nods silently in encouragement.

“I think it would be for the best that I explore my Force sensitivity,” Leia tells her, “I don’t know if I want to be a full-fledged Jedi like you, but I feel I should at least see what it’s all about.”

“And you’d like my assistance?”

“If you’d be willing. I’m not sure how I feel about following instruction from Luke. He is my brother after all.”

(Y/N) laughs lightly, “I understand. I’d be more than willing to help.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Of course. If you ever need anything from me, Leia, all you have to do is ask. I’m happy to be of any use.”

“Thank you,” she says again, “That’s kind of you to offer. Do I have to call you ‘Master (L/N)’ now?”

(Y/N) smiles as she shakes her head, “No. And I won’t make you wear a braid either.”

She can both hear and sense Leia’s confusion as she says, “I wear braids all the time?”

“Oh, sorry, no. Padawans wear a thin braid,” she taps the spot behind her ear where she had once worn one, “right here. It symbolizes their status, it’s cut off when they become a Jedi.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) smiles briefly.

“I’m not sure how far I want to take things,” Leia says, “Especially with Breha here. She needs to be my priority.”

“Of course,” she assures her, “We can start small for now. I’ll hold off on booking a trip to Ilum.”

“Ilum?”

“It’s where Jedi go to get their kyber crystals,” she explains, “That comment would have gotten plenty of laughs twenty-four years ago.”

She thinks she can see Leia smile.

Her own smile widens at the thought of Luke’s ‘planet with snow’ ban and if he’d be willing to lift it for the sake of going to Ilum. Given the large amounts of snow there, and the iced-over entrance to the Crystal Cave, it might take a lot to convince him.

“My first priority would be teaching you to develop mental shields to protect your mind from others,” (Y/N) says, “but you already have a well-fortified mind. Have you been trained to do something similar to what I’ve described?”

“No,” Leia replies.

(Y/N) hums, tapping her fingers against the armrest, “Well, that’s all the more impressive.”

“I’ve resisted…efforts before,” Leia tells her, words stilted, “The Empire tried to…read my mind on multiple occasions and I was able to fight them off.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, leaning forward to rest her hand on the bed beside Leia’s covered leg. Leia shifts Breha in her arms and then her one hand finds (Y/N)’s a moment later. (Y/N) turns hers over and gently holds Leia’s as she continues, “I’m sorry they did that to you. You should be proud of yourself for being about to resist, it takes a strength of will and mind that most people spend their entire lives chasing.”

Leia doesn’t speak for a long time. (Y/N) maintains her silence in response, allowing the other woman all the time she needs. Breha fusses quietly, likely sensing some of Leia’s discomfort. Leia shushes her quietly, pulling away from (Y/N) to move her gown and reposition Breha to the other side.

“What would you teach me instead?”

“Meditation would be good,” (Y/N) proposes as she sits back in her chair, “It will help build your connection with the Force and has added benefits outside of that.”

“Okay. Now?”

“If you’d like.”

“Yes.”

“Alright. First, you need to clear your mind,” (Y/N) instructs. 
“Easier said than done,” Leia remarks. 
She inclines her head, “I know what you mean. You could try counting nuna?”

“Won’t that just make me fall asleep?”

“No. The repetitive imagery and rhythm of the counting is meant to calm you down, which can lead to sleep, but it can also help you reach a meditative state. If you can’t clear your mind of thought entirely, maybe you can narrow it to a singular, calming thought.”

Leia hums as she considers that. “Okay. I’ll try that.”

(Y/N) calms her own mind, aware that Leia’s innate talent might also make her more perceptive of others. She doesn’t go so far as to meditate, though, instead focusing on Leia’s breathing and staying present in the room to keep a metaphorical eye on things. After a moment, sensing how Leia’s mind has calmed, she instructs, “Try to elongate your breathing. Just a little longer than normal, nothing crazy. Inhale, hold it for a moment, and then release. When you become more comfortable with that rate, see if you can make it longer.”

Leia does just so, slowly lengthening her breathing further and further. They sit in silence for a long time as she goes through the progressions. (Y/N) gently brushes against Leia’s presence, keeping her touch soft enough to not disturb her. She seems to have genuinely reached a calm, relaxed state of mind and isn’t just humoring (Y/N). It doesn’t feel like a true meditation, but (Y/N) knows it must be difficult to try and do so while in a hospital room with her newborn baby. But it’s a good start.

Leia is ultimately the one to break the silence, clearing her throat quietly to let (Y/N) know that she’s finished.

“That was good!” (Y/N) praises with a kind smile, “Keep practicing on your own. Breha will appreciate the effort.”

“Is she Force sensitive?” Leia asks curiously.

Her head tilts to the side as she considers the baby’s tiny Force presence, “Hmm. I would say yes, but any child can tell when their parents are distressed regardless of any sensitivity.”
“Right, right. Can you hold her for a moment?”
“Of course.” (Y/N) stands and holds out her hands expectantly. She then cradles Breha close, patting her back to encourage a burp, “Don’t throw up on me, little one. I can’t see but I can smell plenty.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Y/N) enters the room just as Luke finishes saying, “-ow when everything’s taken care of.”“No problem, Luke. Talk to you soon,” a slightly tinny voice replies. If not sensing another person in the apartment wasn’t clue enough, that staticky quality to the other person’s words confirms Luke is speaking to someone on a com device of some sort. “Alright. Goodbye.”“Everything alright?” she asks after a moment, careful to use a light tone that says he doesn’t need to give an in-depth answer if he doesn’t want to. Her hand absently ruffles her still damp hair, having just finished showering. “Yeah, yeah, just something Wedge has been working on and needed someone to vent to about,” Luke says dismissively before proposing, “Hey, how about we go to Tatooine after we’re done here?”Her head tips to the side and she smiles at him happily, “Really?”“Sure, why not? We’re already on the road.”“Okay,” she sits down on the couch beside him, reaching over to fumble around briefly in search of his hand so she can squeeze it, “Yay! I can’t wait. Did you find a ship you liked?”“I found plenty of ships I liked,” he says with an exasperated tone, “The real question is if Han found any ships that he liked.”“Ah, right, my apologies,” she theatrically clears her throat and asks, “Did Han find a ship he liked?”“No,” Luke says, smile evident in his voice, “but I think I have him on the ropes for one in particular. I should be able to convince him tomorrow.”“Especially if we ply him with more good caf,” (Y/N) adds conspiratorially. “Definitely. Did you have a nice time with Leia?”“I did. She even requested that I smuggle in another Dex-made meal tomorrow. I think I turned her off of hospital food even more than the food itself had already done. We talked about a number of things and I think there was some stuff weighing on her that felt good to finally speak to someone about.”“Is she alright?” Luke asks, suddenly sitting up next to her like he’s moments away from rushing to the hospital right now. “Don’t worry,” (Y/N) says as she rests a calming hand on his arm, “Nothing to be worried about. It’s all in the past. I believe I eased some concerns she had. Again,” she says quickly, squeezing his arm, “nothing to be worried about.”“Okay,” he says, settling back down against the cushions again, “I trust you. Thank you for helping her, then.”(Y/N) inclines her head briefly.  *** “Alright,” Luke advises from just a few steps in front of her, “there’s a small lip where the door goes.”(Y/N) nods and then lifts her foot higher than usual and takes a larger step than she normally would. The ground of Tatooine and the floor of Obi-Wan’s house are indistinguishable to her damaged eyes, so she needs to be overly cautious as she enters the structure to avoid tripping. Once she steps inside, her breath catches in her throat. Just as she can feel the lingering presence of Palpatine on Coruscant, she can feel Obi-Wan here. The sharp reminder of him being gone is like a punch to the gut, but not even that can overshadow how the comforting familiarity of his presence feels like she’s been wrapped up in a warm blanket. It feels like she’s been enfolded into his arms, held close by her dearest, oldest friend. She stumbles forward into the room that is nothing but blurs of beige and tan, hand finding a support pillar of some sort. The rough texture and solidness helps ground her and the pillar is suddenly holding her up as much as it is the roof. Luke makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat from somewhere to her left. “Looks like it got raided again.”(Y/N) pulls herself from her thoughts to ask, “Again?”“Someone looted it at some point between us leaving Tatooine and me returning to train. I fixed it up while I was living here, but…”She watches the black of his shirt move past her. She pushes away from the pillar to follow. Luke bends down and says almost absently, “It doesn’t look like…” he trails off again and (Y/N) can hear something happening but she can’t quite identify just exactly what that something is. He exclaims in triumph, “A-ha! They didn’t!”“Care to fill the blind woman in?” she requests. “Sorry,” he grunts as something heavy slides across the ground, “Ben kept the most important stuff stored here in the wall. Whoever came this time missed it just like the others did.”“Ah,” (Y/N) says, squatting down beside him. Luke pushes something, actually a few somethings, into her hands, which she quickly recognizes from touch alone. “Lightsaber parts?”“Yup. I made my lightsaber from pieces I found here. Those are the leftovers.”Her thumb brushes over the ridges of one piece. “Oh,” he chuckles, “and you’ll like this.”(Y/N) holds her hands out expectantly as he takes away the lightsaber parts and replaced them with something much larger. The bottom is metal, flat and round. (Y/N) doesn’t even have to squint to spot identifying features, “A kettle?”“Yeah,” Luke says happily, “I didn’t think much of it before, but you could keep it with the one he gave you.”She smiles at the thought. “It’s dated and probably doesn’t work, but you don’t actually drink tea so that doesn’t really matter. And I can probably get that dent out.”(Y/N) runs her hand over the curved side of the kettle in search of the dent she hadn’t even known existed. “I’ll be happy to start a collection of tea kettles that will never see a day’s work. You were here once with Obi-Wan, right?”“Yeah,” Luke confirms, “when R2 went searching for him and 3PO and I went after him. There used to be a couch right there,” he says, likely pointing in a particular direction, “I repaired 3PO’s arm and then Ben gave me my father’s lightsaber.”(Y/N) lightly taps her fingers against the kettle. She wants to ask him what Obi-Wan had been like at that moment. When he had spoken to Luke about the Jedi, was he sad or reminiscent? When he had spoken of Anakin, had he been bitter or sorrowful? Or had he been more apathetic than that, any other emotion eroded away by time or buried by his years in solitude and leaving him with no other option but to offer information with the clinical-ness of a droid? Had he found peace in some way? Had he found a way to be content here? Or at least as content as one could be given the circumstances. Had Luke even noticed his infliction when he spoke of such things? And if he had, would Luke have even known Obi-Wan well enough in their short time spent together to be able to accurately interpret his tone? “I wish I had been able to spend more time with him,” Luke says suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts, “There was so much still left for him to teach me. Even now, knowing all that I know, I still feel like there are things I could learn from him. He was a very wise man.”“He was,” she agrees quietly. “I do have to say, though, not even death was able to keep him away fully. He always managed to be there when I needed him the most.”A smile pulls at her lips. Stubbornness is not the correct word for it. It would be stubbornness if it was Anakin that they were discussing. No, this was determination. Obi-Wan would be the person so determined to help Luke that he would find a way to cheat death and still communicate with him. Luke had told her before that it had been Obi-Wan’s voice, just mere seconds after he had passed on, urging Luke to board the Falcon so they could escape the first Death Star. Only Obi-Wan would be able to instantaneously manifest his consciousness in a concrete enough way for Luke to have heard him. (Y/N) can so easily picture Obi-Wan boarding a ship, cloak concealing more than just his lightsaber and Jedi robes, and traveling to Tatooine. She can practically hear his quiet, calming voice shushing the newborn bundled close to his chest, can feel the determination that would have taken him in that moment as he swore to protect Luke even as he mourned everything and everyone he had just lost. And she can’t help but think about how funny it is, in an odd, sad little way, that the three of them had all met their end in a similar fashion. Anakin had fallen to Darth Vader in his efforts to save Padmé, and then died to save Luke. Obi-Wan had died to protect Luke. (Y/N)’s original life had met its premature end in the carbonite she exposed herself to in order to protect Anakin.Anakin’s stubbornness, angry and spitting and clawing like a hellcat in his refusal to lose Padmé and then dragging himself back from the impossible to save Luke. Obi-Wan’s determination, both immovable object and unstoppable force at the same time in his conviction to protect the son of the man who he had loved like a brother and lost anyway. (Y/N)’s…love, she supposes is the best term for it. For what but love would make her act to spare Anakin from the not yet known plans of Sirbuh? She hadn’t believed his life to be at risk, not as the thug had spoken of prophecies. And yet she had still drawn attention away from him in hopes of keeping him safe. And when the plans had finally been revealed, had her first thought not been how happy she was that she had interfered? How relieved she was to keep Anakin from the carbonite, not because she believed the procedure would kill him or because she had foreseen that the person who was frozen would be trapped for two decades and have most of their sight stolen as a result but because she knew the freezing process made him feel uncomfortable? What but love would make her glad to spare him from such a minor inconvenience as temporary discomfort?Perhaps that is why she and Luke get along so well, why they seem to just understand each other without really having to try. They both know what it means to love someone and to give without thought of themselves because of that. Luke’s love for his father had made him reject Obi-Wan’s and Yoda’s council and appeal to the remaining scraps of Anakin’s humanity even if it condemned him to death. (Y/N)’s love for Anakin, a love she hadn’t been able to shake even after realizing just how far he had fallen and with how much totality that fall had been, had made her agree with Luke rather than echo the sentiments of the others. And while her words of encouragement had likely meant little given Luke’s own mind had been made before he had properly met her, it still showed a fundamental similarity between them. (Y/N) had understood his stance better than any other because it was her stance as well. She didn’t have to compromise or consider, it had been as natural as breathing to accept Luke’s choice to fight for his father. She offers him a fond smile, “That sounds like Obi-Wan.” *** It’s getting to be late in the day. Shadows are already growing longer, eating into what remains of her vision. Night will fall soon, which makes her think the visit isn’t meant to be long. She turns her head as she asks, “Do you want to go inside?”“No,” Luke admits. She nods in easy acceptance and asks, “Have you been here since?”He sighs tiredly, though it is not frustration and annoyance that causes it. “Yes. I…I buried Owen and Beru back, uh, back then. But I wanted to come back and put in a headstone.”(Y/N) inclines her head silently in understanding. He guides her to a clearing in the sand, caught between the entrance to the home and the crater he had been sure to repeatedly warn her about. There’s a few shadows on the ground, her only indication that they stand before the small graveyard of the Lars family as she can’t actually see the headstones. “My uncle used to say that if my aunt went first then we’d have to dig two graves because he wouldn’t be long for the world after she was gone,” he audibly swallows, words coming out unevenly, “Their life together was cut short so I…I put them in…just the one…so they could be together in death.”(Y/N) takes his hand, “That’s very thoughtful.”Luke fiddles with her hand now that it’s in his grasp, brushing his thumb back and forth anxiously. “I wish I had been there.”“You would be dead too,” she says gently. Luke is quiet for a moment. “I know. I just…I wish I could have said goodbye. I never got to thank them for all they did.”“I have no doubt they knew you were grateful. And you know as well as I that being dead doesn’t mean someone is completely gone. You could always tell them now, if you’d like. I’m sure there’s a part of them listening.” (Y/N) squeezes his hand and then slips free from his hold, walking away to grant him some privacy. She stands by the edge of the crater and looks at the colors of the setting suns that her fractured vision allows her to see. She can’t hear Luke’s words, and makes no effort to. It’s a moment meant to be just for him, his uncle, and his aunt. After a few minutes, he comes to stand by her side. They watch the suns sink lower in the sky. Luke’s hand finds hers, lifting it away from where it had hung by her leg. “I wanted you to know just how glad I am that I found you,” Luke tells her. (Y/N) looks towards him. The orange of fading daylight colors his skin. She can see the blue of his eyes. She smiles, “As am I that you found me.”The second sun drops below the horizon and the dark of night takes over, stealing what remains of her sight. “Ready to go?” he asks. “Yes,” she agrees, turning away from the crater. Luke tries to take them towards the ship, but (Y/N) steers them in the opposite direction. She had counted her steps before, so she retraces them in order to take an educated guess as to where she had stood before. She bends down and stretches out her free hand. Her fingers brush the headstone and she moves her hand slightly so she can rest it on the stone. She bows her head briefly, eyes closing as she pays respect and offers thanks to the two souls who raised Luke and loved him like their own.  *** “I must say that for as much as I’ve enjoyed our time galavanting around the galaxy, I’m happy to be back here,” (Y/N) remarks. “I feel the same way,” Luke replies. R2 echoes the sentiment as well with a cheerful whistle while wheeling past them and into the temple. “I want to check on the garden,” (Y/N) says, “I know Marin said he would stop by to water it, but I want to see things for myself.”“Figuratively speaking, right?”(Y/N) takes a swipe at Luke but he dances out of range just in time, having known that would be her reaction even as she grins. “Go,” he laughs, “I’ll come find you in a moment.”She leaves him by the entrance to the temple and wanders along the familiar path towards her little garden. The light breeze carries the scent of the trees, as well as wet dirt. It must have rained recently. Hopefully her plants aren’t drowning.“Hell-o!” she sing-songs in greeting because apparently she’s one of those old ladies that crochets and talks to her plants. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at herself and easily opens the gate, well versed in the locking mechanism, and enters the garden. The smell of wet dirt is stronger here, but the ground isn’t squishing under her feet in a concerning way which is promising. She carefully peruses the different plots, brushing her hands over the dirt and leaves. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary aside from the fact that she can’t find any ripe pickings. Did Marin snag some while he was here or is it possible some sort of animal got past the gate? (Y/N) rises from the patch she had been checking and starts to pick her way along the fencing, feeling a bit helpless since she can’t really tell for certain if there’s any holes present. She needs Luke to get over here and check for her. Her head turns back the way she had come as she reaches out briefly with the Force in search of him. She sighs to herself and squats down to start poking at the bottom of the fencing. Carefully, one waddle-y step at a time, she slowly maneuvers along the wall and continues to poke around near the ground to see if anything has been moved out of place. She thinks the fence is high enough that the intruder couldn’t have come that way, so they likely came from under.“What are you doing back there?” Luke’s voice suddenly asks by the gate. (Y/N) straightens from her crouched position as she responds, “Trying and failing to check the fence. I thought maybe some critters got in. I haven’t been able to find anything worth harvesting.”“The guilty critter snuck in through the gate, not the fence,” he informs her. She frowns, “Do you mean Marin?”“Shara, actually. She left a note in the kitchen.”(Y/N) pouts down at her plants. “The note also invited us over for dinner, if that helps.”“I suppose,” she theatrically sighs in a put-upon way, “Can you check the fence? Just to be safe?”He also sighs in a fake put-upon way, “I suppose.”(Y/N) smirks and watches his blurry perimeter check, slowly turning in the same spot as he makes his way around the entire exterior of the fencing. “I’m happy to report everything is still in one piece. Turns out I’m good at something garden-related after all.”“Give yourself some credit, Luke. You did a decent enough job at watering that one time.”“Nice,” he mutters. (Y/N) carefully makes her way back across the garden and exits, closing the gate behind her with a flick of her wrist. She holds out her arm pointedly, waiting for Luke to loop his around it even though she hardly needs a guide here. He doesn’t leave her waiting for long, tucking up close beside her. Neither of them take the lead, they simply walk side by side back to the entrance to the temple. Her head suddenly turns, pointing back to the ship, and she stops walking after just taking a few steps inside, “Oh! I should get my kettle. I have to see how it looks on the shelf next to the other one. Figuratively speaking.”“Hold on,” Luke says, tugging lightly on her arm to keep her in place instead of letting her either slip away from him or pull him along with her towards the ship, “Wait right here. I want you to see something.”Her eyebrow quirks, “You know who you’re talking to, right?”“Knock it off,” he says, swatting her arm and then scampering away before she can retaliate. (Y/N) watches his black clothing quickly vanish into the darker area of the temple and out of her view. She looks around aimlessly as she waits for his return. Her world suddenly comes to life with light. She blinks at the sudden change in her surroundings, head swiveling to try and reorient herself. Gone are the shadows and dark halls of the temple. The walls have been newly painted, now contrasting the floor in a clear enough way that she can easily see the difference. There’s a faint buzzing above her head and when she looks up, she can see a line of new light fixtures have been installed. They’re in a far greater number now than they had been before she and Luke had left for Coruscant. She blinks at them stupidly, still trying to come to terms with all of the changes. Luke returns to her side and asks eagerly, “Do you like it?”(Y/N)’s lips part but her voice fails her. “I had it done while we were off-world,” he continues, “I also had the doorways painted and all control panels have been outlined and replaced with ones with glowing buttons as well. You should be able to spot them easily now. I also considered putting something on the walls where there’s an intersection to help with your depth perception. Maybe the Order’s symbol or directions or just a circle, I haven’t really decided, but something you could look at and determine from the size how close you are to the wall. I wanted to see if all of this worked for you first before getting into the details or if maybe we needed to do something more bold than this. We could paint the walls another color or replace the floor. Or maybe paint lines on the floor so you can tell-”His rambling words are cut off by (Y/N)’s uncoordinated leap forward to press her lips against his. Her heart is pounding in her ears. She’s utterly shocked and just so incredibly touched by this gesture that her mind is left reeling from it. Luke had gone above and beyond in his efforts to make this place more accessible and easier to navigate for her. He didn’t need to do any of this. (Y/N) would have memorized step counts for the journeys to and from various rooms and made do with the less than stellar lighting without complaint. But instead of leaving her to just ‘manage’ her way through the temple, Luke had completely redesigned it so it was as easy for her to maneuver as it was for any person with unencumbered sight. The thought and effort that he had clearly put into it, from changing the control panels so she no longer has to fumble her fingers around the wall in search of them to taking her issues with depth into consideration, makes warmth bloom in her chest. It’s such an endlessly thoughtful gesture. One she is beyond grateful for. And in her elation over said thoughtfulness, the best her giddy mind could think of as a means to show thanks was to plant a kiss on him. Speaking of the kiss, her aim for it had been decidedly off because even a novice like (Y/N) can tell that things don’t feel right. She’d only managed to catch part of his mouth with hers as she had gone both too high and to the left in her excitement. Her cheeks warm in embarrassment and (Y/N) pulls back as suddenly as she had lunged forward, blinking at him rapidly. The rest of her mind abruptly catches up with what one part of it had just decided to do and her cheeks warm in mortification. What the hell did she just do?She clears her throat, hands adjusting her shirt that hadn’t needed adjusting just for the sake of having something to do, and says, “Right. Uh, thank you.”“You’re welcome,” Luke replies, voice sounding very strange. Right. Time to go bash her head into a newly painted wall. (Y/N) moves to walk away, but Luke’s hand quickly finds her arm and stops her, “Hold on.”She looks back to his face, silently waiting to see what his next move will be. His fingers flex against her arm, “Just…just come here a minute,” Luke murmurs as he pulls her closer. (Y/N) allows herself to be drawn back to him, keeping her eyes fixed in the general vicinity of where his eyes should be as his hand slides up her arm. His other hand is suddenly brushing against the side of her neck, reaching up to gently cradle the side of her face. A tiny puff of air escapes her through her parted lips and her eyes flutter shut as Luke kisses her. For as…not great as that first kiss had been, she’s shocked and yet somehow not shocked by how drastically better the second one is. Luke leads her without being overpowering, and in a slow and steady rhythm they take to it and each other like they’d been specifically made for this exact thing. When it ends, he comes back again and again until the tightness in her chest melts away to something warm and gooey that she can’t quite name. She has no idea if Luke knows the full extent of what he’s doing to her right now. He had griped before about how he can’t read her mind, but it certainly doesn’t feel like that right now because every brush of his lips against hers feels like it’s been perfectly tailored to ease her into this, into him. And damn if it doesn’t work flawlessly. When they separate for good, she can offer only a quiet, “…Oh.”“Yeah,” he replies equally as quiet. She slowly lifts her hands to rest them on his arms, wordlessly keeping him close. She blinks at him, not quite sure what to do now. (Y/N) might have been the one to initiate this, but that hardly means she knows how to proceed from here. “I’m sorry I kind of jumped you back there,” she finally offers lamely. “I’m not exactly complaining,” Luke points out. “Well, you probably should be. My form was rather atrocious.”“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough. Practice makes perfect after all.”Her eyebrows shoot up. She hadn’t been expecting that level of suaveness from him…and yet she is decidedly not complaining about it. (Y/N) is suddenly acutely aware of just how out-classed she is in this arena, and only feels an excited sort of intrigue over it. “I’ll take my mauling as your approval of the changes?” he asks. His hand still cradling her face surely can feel how hot her cheek burns. She huffs, “Yes, I approve. I just wasn’t expecting you to have taken the time to do…all of that.”“Should I take offense to that?”Her nose wrinkles, “No, I don’t mean like that. It’s just…I would have managed with it as it had been.”“I don’t want you to just ‘manage’ here.” Luke’s hands haven’t moved away yet even though they aren’t kissing anymore and there’s no risk for her fleeing. She can feel the one on her shoulder fidgeting almost nervously as he tells her, “I don’t want this to just be another Jedi Temple for you. Or just the place where you work or happen to live. I want this to feel like a home for you.”And how nice the word ‘home’ sounds coming from his lips. (Y/N)’s unseeing gaze flickers away briefly, thinking of every little thing he had done here since their arrival with her in mind, with these latest renovations being only the most recent item on a long list. Thinking of Luke himself and how natural it feels to be near him. Oh. She blinks. That’s what that warm feeling in her chest was. She returns her attention to him and says with a smile, “This doesn’t just ‘feel’ like a home.”Because who the hell cares if she still occasionally trips on a rock outside or maybe takes a moment to find her way through the temple? This is her home. Luke is her home. She can just barely see a flash of teeth as he returns the smile, “Good…Good. I’m glad.”(Y/N) searches for that familiar hint of blue as her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, feeling giddy as she does. She laughs lightly. There’s definitely an interesting conversation to be had between Anakin and herself in the near future, because she’s pretty sure she’s in love with his son. “What is it?” Luke asks. She sighs, “Well, you’re just kind of…you’re incredible.”“Such high praise,” he murmurs. His fingers tuck under her chin to tilt her head the way he wants, thumb brushing against her lower lip, “One kiss was all it took?”He’s going to make her weak in the knees if he keeps this up. (Y/N) huffs, trying to downplay just how much even a jesting comment is affecting her as she points out, “Technically it was two.”“Hmm. One and a half.”Her eyes narrow playfully, “Don’t make me take the compliment back already, Luke.”He breathes a laugh, hand adjusting on her chin so his finger can brush over her cheek. She can’t see his eyes, but she doesn’t really need to in order to know what they’re focused on right now. “Are you ready?”Her head tilts slightly, “Ready for what?” “For me to kiss you again,” he explains. A smile pulls at (Y/N)‘s lips and she says, fingers playfully tapping against his arms, “Do your worst.”She thinks he leans closer because his voice certainly sounds like it when he says, “Oh, and I know it goes without saying but I think you’re incredible too. And I can’t wait to show you just how much.”(Y/N) grins at him, and is sure to close the distance between them with more accuracy this time.