They Dance

Sweat burns his eyes as his body twists and turns. The dozen remotes flitter around him on little puffs of air as they fire a near constant stream of ruby colored darts towards him. The saber in his hand thrums at varying pitches as he swings the blade in ever widening arcs, catching the low powered blasts.

The grin plastered on his face grows slightly larger as he feels someone approaching the cargo hold which the Jedi on board use as a training room. The whisper-shush of the door opening, and the clapping of boots intrude upon his awareness.

Yet he continues to flip and dive, dodge and slip through the random bolts of coherent light. He flips up and over, landing in a crouch facing her. He has a second to look at her, to take in the black cat suit, and long, flowing red hair as he ducks under a remote that was diving towards his former position. As soon as that remote passes overhead, he flips backwards into the midst of the circling remotes, his saber moving in a blur to deflect the darts.

Absently he notes a secondary echo to the thrum of his saber.

Then his purple blade is connected with a blue one. The hiss of two sabers pushing against each other sounds loud in the confines of the training area. His blue eyes focus on her green ones, flickering down to the smirk on her face.

The puff of an air jet draws his attention as one of the bolts strikes him in the back of the thigh. Grunting less in pain than in surprise, he lessens the pressure which his blade is exerting against Mara’s, allowing hers to push his down in a half circle. He grins as he suddenly twists his saber handle, knocking her blade wide.

He jumps back, putting more distance between them, the grin on his face eerily reminiscent of his father’s.

Her lips quirk slightly as one eyebrow lifts. “Nice, Solo.”

He nods once, as the remotes dive between them, firing bolts towards them both. Their blades move in conjunction, dodging and blocking the bolts, while occasionally crashing together.

His eyes narrow as their blades flicker back and forth, purple and blue shining, and throwing highlights over them both, interrupted by the occasional explosion of the red darts, and the searing white of connection.

He enjoys this movement, the duel, the fight. There is something calming about two opponents extending their skills and abilities against each other. The sounds of the remotes and sabers, the smell of ozone that hangs in the air, the flashes of light.

It’s fun.

The flicker of his blade and it connects not with hers, but slices through a portion of one of the remotes. It falls at Mara’s feet, and his eyes widen as he can feel the remote’s power supply begin to overload.

He reaches out with the Force and throws the remote towards the ceiling.

The resulting explosion is not large. It doesn’t even produce enough fire and smoke to darken the paint on the ceiling.

But it is enough to set off the sprinklers.

As the first drop of water smacks against his upturned face, his brow creases and his eyes narrow.

He continues to stare up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes against the water as it splashes on his upturned face. Without looking at her, he asks the question which is bugging him. “Why would Booster use water as a fire suppression system? Why not the usual fire-retardant foam?”

By this time the water is falling steadily, a strong rain that drenches them both.

He finally drops his gaze from the ceiling and looks at Mara.

The falling water has caused her hair to hang limp against her face, a scowl and a frown darken her face as she turns her attention towards Anakin.

“You just had to throw it all the way up to the ceiling didn’t you?”

He lowers his eyes and tucks his chin against his chest, even as a sheepish grin appears. “Sorry Aunt Mara.”

She looks down at her sodden jumpsuit, and then holding out her arms slightly turns her glare back onto him. “And what about my outfit?”

He looks up at her again; his grin falls away for a split second, before reappearing, even more roguish than usual. He places his saber at his belt as he snaps his heel together. Then in one slow move he places one hand at the small of his back, and bows towards her, holding out his other arm towards her in a formal pose.

He straightens, his arm still held towards her as he watches her eyebrow quirk again.

“And what exactly is your plan here Solo?”

“Dad always said, ‘what’s the point of the rain if you’re not going to dance in it?’”

She looks at him, then down at his hand, then up at the falling water and finally her gaze settles back onto his face.

“This isn’t exactly rain you know.”

He shrugs. “Close enough.”

She smiles and laughs, giving her head a slight shake even as her hand slips into his.

He pulls her closer, the hand that he held behind his back slipping out and around her waist.

He pauses for a second, assuring himself that she recognizes the dance he intends from their starting pose.

Then with matching smiles, and water-drenched hair, they dance.

Themed Drabbles Set 5

Smell

He can smell the rain on the air. He turns to his companion, noticing that the wind has picked up her red hair, and tossing it around her face. Still her green eyes watch him intently. He turns back to the Dantari standing near him as he kneels in front of the large native. His actions are both submissive and dominant, and confuse the chieftain. He gives a quick glance back towards her.

He grins at her.

Her lips twitch, more than a smirk, less than a smile.

It is all she ever gives him.

It is more than enough.

---

Sound

It is a sickening crunching sound. The sound that a Dacian sweet crab makes when you snap its shell. Except louder and more intense. His feet glide over the boulder, snapping down on the legs of the warrior the rock now rests on top of. Anakin grins as he advances towards the other warrior. He can feel her advancing towards him at a fast clip, and worry springs anew in his heart.

He needs to finish this before she gets here.

He feints towards the warrior, who falls for it, letting Tuber go.

Anakin grins, and lunges, attacking once again.

---

Touch

He touches her forehead, a fire burning in her flesh, as her feverish green eyes stare at him in obvious delirium. He brushes her hair away from her face, worry for her coloring his perceptions and feelings.

He glances around, ensuring that his passage through the woods leaves no trails.
After another moment’s rest, he pulls her to her feet, and helps her along as they retreat further into the woods. The first drop of rain is cold as it slams against his shoulder. She trembles as a drop hits her.

He looks to the sky as it opens up.

---

Taste

She tastes delicious.

With an effort he banishes the thought, as he pulls his face away from hers where it lays on the ground. He places his hands, one atop the other, above her heart, and begins compressions. After a few compressions, he draws a breath and presses his lips against hers, blowing air into her lungs, giving her body a chance to restart itself after her disease attacked her heart. His hands go back to her chest.

“Please don’t die, Aunt Mara.”

A tear falls from his face to her chest. With a gagging cough, she jerks into awareness.

---

Sight

As her eyes focus on him, he smiles. She sits up and he throws his arms around her, crushing her to him.

A cough and he eases his grip on her. She struggles to stand, and he follows. As she speaks her voice is rough and scratchy. “Come on, let’s go.”

He wants to object, to remind her that she had just had a heart attack, but the looks she gives him kills the words before they can ever get out. She takes a step forward, and then throws a look over her shoulder, stretching out her hand to him.

Becoming An Adult

Jaina leaned against the bulkhead of the Jade Shadow, her eyes dark, and a scowl on her face, as she watches her Master and her little brother duel. The hum of the sabers, followed by the occasional crackle when they actually connect, soothes her nerves, calms her thoughts. Which is good, because everything else about the situation does the opposite to her thoughts and nerves.

She doesn’t want to see what she is seeing.

There are some things that should never be.

Of course, part of growing up, of becoming an adult, of becoming a Jedi Knight, is seeing those things which you never want to notice.

The first of those things for Jaina Solo is the fact that her Master, her mentor, her aunt, has replaced her.

With her brother.

A flip, a lunge, a parry, a thrust.

The blindingly fast movements of two Force empowered individuals. It is a mosaic of blurred lights and harsh sounds. Jaina’s eyes narrow slightly, as the duo’s sabers slam into each other, their bodies centimeters apart.

She feels like an intruder, an interloper. The tension in the room is worse than when she was around that pilot back on Ithor. It’s not the bad type of tension, such as when Master Horn and Master Durron show up at her father’s house on the same night. It’s the other type of tension, the one she felt with the pilot, the tension she felt from Jacen when Jacen rescued that scientist.

It is a tension that is equal parts lust and self-control.

That is the second of those things which Jaina wishes to never see, that tension between her Aunt Mara, and her little brother. It is an underlying aspect of everything the two of them do together.

And if Jaina is brutally honest with herself, if she would ever truly admit such a thing to herself, she wonders if her aunt has betrayed her uncle.

How can she not wonder that, when she feels as if her Master has replaced her with her brother? She has to wonder if she is not worthy enough to be Mara’s apprentice, or does Anakin just have something to offer Mara which Jaina herself cannot. She wonders if her Aunt could, would, replace her uncle with her brother.

The crackling of interlocked sabers once more intrudes on Jaina’s awareness, as she looks around, and finds the pair of them. She notes that Anakin is on one knee, with Mara standing over him, forcing him down at an odd angle, overpowering him.

She lets a small curl twist her lips, as the uncharitable thought of Mara accidentally wounding him slices through her brain.

Then Anakin is spinning, and Mara is on the ground. With flair, Anakin pounces, straddling her legs, and slipping his saber next to her throat.

“Kill point.”

Mara smiles and her eyes flash with amusement. “You expect me to be impressed?”

Jaina snorts at Anakin’s sudden discomfiture, attracting the pair’s attention. She can feel her annoyance flare, as Anakin suddenly jumps up, and turns away from her, barely acknowledging her presence. “Hey sis.”

Jaina walks over and helps Mara up, looking her up and down. “You know, we haven’t sparred in months. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want me as your apprentice anymore.”

Mara quirks an eyebrow. “Then shall we?”

“But you just had a duel.”

Mara barks a laugh. “Afraid you’d lose to me?”

“No. Fine, we’ll duel.” Then Jaina slips out of her robe, throwing it to the side, and ignites her saber.

Mara steps forward, her blade held unlit and at her side and she starts to bow. Jaina doesn’t give her a chance; she just pushes forward, her blade slicing in towards Mara.

With the crackle of released energy, Jaina’s blade is halted against Mara’s. Mara smirks for a second, before speaking. “That’s not playing nice.”

Then Mara pushes the blade away and goes on the offensive. Jaina falls back under the onslaught, unable to find a way to turn the tide, unable to once more gain the upper hand.

Their blades lock, each struggling to overpower the other. Mara’s voice intrudes on Jaina’s single mindedness. “So, what is really bothering you?”

“You and Anakin.”

The quizzical look that crosses Mara’s face irks Jaina, and she slips out of the lock, dumping her aunt to the floor. Before she can get her saber over the older woman for the point, Mara is back on her feet, and once more attacking, pushing Jaina backwards.

“What about me and Anakin?”

Jaina takes a second to glance around, ensuring that Anakin has left the room. “You know!”

“No. I don’t know.”

“He loves you.”

“Of course he loves me, I’m his aunt.”

Jaina barks a harsh, bitter laugh. “No, Aunt Mara, he’s IN love with you.”

Mara’s jaw goes slack, her mouth forming a silent ‘O’ as she steps back and away from Jaina.

For her part, Jaina frowns at the older woman. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know. The tension in here could have been cut with a knife.”

Jaina watches as Mara’s mouth works, as her mind tries to wrap itself around the proton torpedo that Jaina just slammed into her. Jaina can feel her own mouth tighten down into a thin line as she extinguishes her saber.

Then without another word, she spins from Mara, and walks out. Her heart crushing, breaking at the fact that Mara never denies it.

Rain

Currently, I hate the rain. It’s cold and wet and it gets everywhere. And it has been raining on us for three days now, and that is how long we have been running. And apparently Dantooine has decided to provide us with every possible permutation of rain, from a slow, gentle shower, to the current sheets of ice cold drops that sting as they hit.

I look over at Aunt Mara, frowning as she appears to be asleep, noting the gaunt skin, the sunken eyes. I touch her skin, and it feels warm even in the freezing rain. I don think I like how it feels, so different than the sensuous caresses I had dreamed about.

Then I can feel a buzzing in the Force, and know the Vong have found us again. I can feel my frown shift to a scowl as the Force prods me on with a sense of urgency.

“Aunt Mara, it’s time to go.”

I start to help her up, and grimace as I have to drop her to bat the thud bug from the air with my saber. Shutting down my saber, I scan what little of the terrain I can see through the rain and reach down to help Aunt Mara up again.

“Come on Aunt Mara, you can do this.”

I look into her eyes, and bite back a curse at the nearly empty expression that appears in them. I find myself scowling once more, at how used she looks.

Then the moment has passed, and the Aunt Mara that I know and love comes once more to the fore, as she slowly starts scrambling up the rocks in front of me. I take a second to scan the forest as Aunt Mara slips out of sight up on the game trail we’re following.

I hear a growl as a Vong warrior steps out of the forest, it takes me a second to realize that the growl is coming from me. I size the warrior up, noting the way he flexes and pivots on the balls of his feet.

Then he has his amphistaff in hand, flying towards me.

“Amateur.”

As he attempts to jump over me, I ignite and swing my saber with all the strength I can muster, sawing through the joints on his legs, feeling a deep satisfaction as the legs land at my feet, while the rest of him carry on over my head.

I look at him, a sneer crossing my face as I quickly step in and shove the blade into that weak spot under his arm. The rain quickly washes the stench and blood from me as I hurry up the path after Aunt Mara. I shut the blade down, and step over the inert form.

As I start following the trail once more, a red blaster bolt shoots out, passing inches from my head, and I can hear it connect with something immediately behind me. Spinning around, I look down and see the burnt carcass of another thud bug.

Turning I see Aunt Mara standing by a large tree, sliding her blaster back into its holster. She catches my eye and gives me a smirk, which I happily return.

The voice I hear is low and hoarse, I can feel a spike of pain as her throat is raw from coughing. “Not quite what you were expecting when you were assigned babysitting duties huh Solo?”

Any retort I might have had, died on my lips as her body is wracked by a cough. Looking around I notice the path branches off, one going up into the foothills that we’re at the bottom of, the other following the foothills here in the valley. Slipping my arm around her, I start leading us once up the pathway into the foothills. “Come on Aunt Mara; let’s hope we can find a cave up in these mountains.”

“What’s wrong? Don’t like the rain?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Not so much that, as I don’t want to drown while sleeping.”

Our travel is slower now; I am having to help her more often, lend her my strength, and even carry her over certain parts of the terrain. But at last we find a cave, somewhere we can be dry for at least a little while.

We enter, and go back far enough, and around a bend that any fire we have should not be visible from the cave’s entrance. I lay her down against the wall, and start looking around for some dead wood or something in the cave that could be used to start a fire. Finding enough debris, I bring it back to Mara and use her blaster to ignite it.

I quickly strip Aunt Mara of her clothes, laying them near the fire to dry and then do the same with mine. I get the thermal blanket from the pack on my belt and lay it on top of her. Noticing that it didn’t stop her shivers, I lie down next to her and pull her close to me, wrapping the blanket around us both. She sighs and snuggles deeper into my arms.

“Thanks Farmboy.”

I hear the words, but they don’t instantly translate, so I look down at her, and she lifts her face up and is kissing me. At first I’m too shocked to do anything, and then as she reaches up with one of her hands and drags my face even closer I find myself returning the kiss.

Enjoying the kiss.

Instantly I’m acutely aware of the feel of her flesh against mine, where earlier it had felt coarse and feverish, now it was soft and silky and emanating a different kind of heat.

Then she breaks the kiss and laying her head on my shoulder, her voice soft and scratchy. “Love you Farmboy.”

Then the only sound I can hear is the beating of my heart and her soft snores. As logic once more asserts itself in the place of lust and desire, I realize that in her feverish state she thought I was Uncle Luke, that for her, it wasn’t me she was kissing at all.

And then I note that she is still feverish, as her back arches from the pain of her coughs.

I quickly decide to not mention what happened to her, to not burden her with what we did this night, and sadly I wondered if I would ever have what Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara have. I wonder if I would ever have that kind of relationship, that kind of passionate joy that they seem to always have with one another, for one another.

I sigh and from somewhere in the back of my mind, I can see a flash of vibrant green eyes and hear Tahiri’s voice. Dummy.