InsaneJournal

WHO: Yvaine and Obi-Wan Kenobi
WHAT: Another Toclafane victim returns!
WHERE: The Library, then their flat
WHEN: Today, afternoon
RATING/STATUS: PG; closed/complete


If arriving in Colligo was a shock the first time around, it was unimaginably worse the second time around. Yvaine found herself whimpering softly as she woke up in the library, sure that she was being freshly killed again. Wasn't once enough for those awful sphere things? And how had they graduated from blades to this full-body torture? But as she blinked and looked around her she found that she was not surrounded by little metal balls hanging in the air. She was untouched, her skin unmarred and her dress whole once again, and yet she was still in agony. And why did it feel as though iron bands were clamping around her chest? Yvaine opened her mouth to let out a sob and instead found herself drawing breath desperately.

She needed to breathe. Oh, hell. And a vague scrap of conversation swam back to her mind, something about a sacrifice, a trade? Something she'd struggled with and given up. And she realized why she was in such pain: she was human, no longer merely a star in the shape of a girl. She'd traded her immortality and her magic for a shell that was already on its way back to the underworld she'd just come back from. Dully Yvaine swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks and stumbled out of the library, pausing on the steps. There was no way she could make it back to her flat: she was already feeling far too heavy.

A few moments later and she'd managed to fumble at her PDA and contact her flatmate. He wasn't dead, bless all the bright things in the world, and he would find her. It was what he did, helping the weak and the less fortunate, he'd told her that often enough. Now it was just that she needed his help. And she hated herself for it just a little.

Obi-Wan stared at his PDA after he’d received and replied to the messages, and then sent a quick message of his own to Tahiri telling her that Yvaine was back and he was going to get her. After that, he took off at Force-enhanced speed and made his way to the library, avoiding the various piles of rubble and debris that the Toclafane had left behind with ease.

The detours didn’t add too much extra time to his journey, and soon he pulled up at the foot of the library steps where Yvaine was sitting waiting. Even if he hadn’t seen her, he would have been able to find her instantly through the Force; she felt almost the same as ever, albeit a damn sight more miserable and upset, wiping at her eyes every so often, and it amazed him that nobody else could sense it. Well, Tahiri probably could, but she wasn’t there. He walked over to crouch down in front of her and carefully put his hand on her arm. “Yvaine...” and then he trailed off. What was he supposed to say? “I missed you”? “You’re not dead”? “Are you alright”? Stupid things to say, all of them, so he settled for staying quiet.

Yvaine had been absorbed in her thoughts and in fighting the pain that threatened to consume her, and her mind was far away until someone was in front of her and touching her. She could still feel that, as if through a layer of cotton wool. How immensely strange this all was. She looked up at the Jedi through tear-spiked lashes, taking a shuddery deep breath. "I want to go home," she blurted, cursing herself. By the gods, she sounded like a child, lost and quavery and weak. This was ridiculous.

“Of course. Can you stand?” he asked, moving round so that he wouldn’t be in her way if she did decide to get to her feet. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, though, or move his hand. “...Yvaine, are you injured? It’s not from when you were attacked, is it?” he asked, once he stopped moving again. Her pain was stronger here, more than the misery she was also feeling, and he started to check her over with the Force in case he could do anything to help her.

It was a good question, and one she wasn't entirely sure how to answer. Yvaine started to her feet and swayed, leaning against Obi-Wan when he moved to her side. "No, I - oh, gods," she said, taking another huge gulp of breath. "I'm whole, I just - it's like this body is dying around me, minute by minute, I can't - I don't know how you do this." She turned her face against his shoulder, unable to bear it any longer.

He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her, trying to understand what she meant by her body dying around her, and then he stilled as he worked out what she was describing and why she was breathing like she’d been stuck underwater for a few minutes. It was the same reason why his sense of her through the Force was very slightly off. “Yvaine... you’re fully human.” He rubbed absently at her shoulder and sent a reassuring pulse of the Force to her without even thinking about it. “Your body isn’t dying, far from it. You’re alive. And it’s not something anyone actually does, it just... that’s how it is.” And he was far more thankful for it than he ever intended to let her know.

No longer being a star apparently made Yvaine more susceptible to the Force, because she did feel calmer somehow. Or perhaps that was due to having Obi-Wan holding her and allowing her to take strength from his presence. After a moment more she nodded against his chest, moving to look up into his face. "I am now. I gave it up to come back." The conversation was bordering on maudlin, and she gave him a weak impression of her usual smirk. "I was unchanged for thousands of years, Obi-Wan. Forgive me if it takes me some time to get used to a human's mortality."

He smiled down at her as he felt her mood alter very slightly, hopefully encouraging things along. “I think that can be allowed. Will twenty minutes be long enough for you?” he teased gently, then moved his hand to rest between her shoulderblades. “You will get used to it, though. You’re too stubborn not to,” he told her, as certain of that fact as he was that his lightsaber blade was blue and that Master Yoda would no doubt smack him round the shins with that stick of his for not getting Yvaine back home.

Finally giving in, he pulled Yvaine into another hug, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I am very glad to see you again,” he said quietly, then pulled back and spoke louder as he continued, “as I’m sure Tahiri will be, too. Would you like me to carry you home, and then I’ll make us some tea? And no doubt you’re hungry as well.”

Having him look at her with that smile made her feel almost as if she was glowing again. Impossible, but true nonetheless. "I managed with gravity, I can manage this as well," she replied, then closed her eyes as his kiss brushed over her brow. Stubborn indeed. She hadn't even been willing to accept that she was dead for quite some time, and she'd been rather vocal about it. And it was all for this - and it was worth it, wasn't it? Another deep breath and the sound of his heart beating in counterpoint to her own seemed to say that it was.

Her smile up at him was a little brighter than it had been. He ought to be glad; then again, he didn't know how she'd come back. Would that change anything? "Poor Tahiri. Is she well?" Yvaine's nose crinkled as she made a face. "You know I hate being carried - but I'll take forever in this state." Of course he'd offered her tea. "Am I? I don't know how it feels, not really." This was going to take some getting used to.

“She’s well enough.” Thinking it best not to tell Yvaine how the two Jedi had reacted, or what they’d been doing in the weeks since her death, he glossed over that as best he could. “You’ll see her for yourself when we get back to the apartment. Come on, put your arms around my neck and we’ll leave.” He waited until he was holding her so that she felt secure, and then he ran back to their home at Force-enhanced speed once more.

Soon enough, they reached their building, and Obi-Wan decided that Yvaine would probably prefer to go in through the main entrance of the building itself, rather than his usual method which was to jump up to the balcony. After that, it was only a matter of a minute or two before he was manipulating the tumblers in the door’s lock with the Force, and he carried Yvaine over to the couch and set her down. Perhaps it was considered to be a frivolous use of the Force, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sorry. And he wasn’t overly concerned when he set their kettle to boiling with just a nudge, either.

Yvaine closed her eyes and let the wind rush against her face, feeling dizzier than she had when she first woke up. She was really not fond of this at all, she thought, and whether this was being as weak and helpless as a kitten or being rushed through the streets she wasn't sure. Being cradled against Obi-Wan's chest, however, was something she definitely didn't mind. This was the most contact they'd had since he'd been Ben. She'd rather missed it.

But finally he was carrying her over the threshold and placing her on the couch lightly as a feather, and she let out her breath slowly. "Thank you," she said, feeling her face heat again. Was being a human always this confusing? "Will you stay with me, just for a moment?" It sounded so pleading to her ears, but she didn't particularly want him out of her sight right now.

“Of course. Are you feeling alright? I understand these are all new sensations to you, it must be very upsetting for you,” he said softly, then stood back from her to give her some room. Folding his arms without even thinking about it, he cheated yet again by lifting two mugs out of the cupboard with the Force. Still, Yvaine clearly needed tea, and yet wanted him to stay where he was. This way, both things could happen.

"No, I'm not all right," she said frankly, peering up at him. "And you can stop looming about like a bloody colossus, that might help." Yvaine put her hands over her face and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. "It's like - I can't see, I can't hear properly, and everything's duller and darker than it should be, but at the same time I feel all the parts of my body and they ache in so many ways. I almost regret it." And then she was looking up at him, horror written across her face. "I don't mean that."

Looming? He wasn’t looming, that was just... how he stood. She knew that, strange woman. Still, he did as she asked and sat down on the coffee table. Listening to her talk, he couldn’t help but look at her once more through the Force in case there was some injury somewhere that she wasn’t telling him about. He moved his hand so that it was almost touching her knee and then reached out with the Force, doing his best to soothe any aches or pains she had and hopefully reassuring her (even a little bit) at the same time. “Of course you meant it, Yvaine. You’re sore and tired like you’ve never been before, and I don’t think you’ve ever lied in all the time I’ve known you, so why should you start now?” he said with a small smile. “It’s an understandable reaction, and I’ve had similar thoughts when I’ve woken up after being injured. All you can do is thank the Force, and continue on.”

Yvaine shut her eyes and shook her head slightly, hair falling back into her face. "You say the Force is all around you and you can sense it in everything. If you couldn't feel it anymore, how would you feel? If you thought you'd never get it back?" She peered at him through the curtain of white-blonde strands. "Would you give it up?" And what would he think was worth it?

He reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. What did you do, Yvaine? he wondered, then decided to tell her something only his mind-healer and a few other Jedi knew. “I was captured during the war along with one of my troopers. Everyone thought I was dead, and my... An- my... student, he... he was assigned to a new Master. I was missing for some time, I’m still not exactly sure how long. Ventress had me, and she made me wear a torture mask. A Sith mask. I couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate, and I could no more feel the Force than I could sprout wings and fly. And I was terrified. I’ve never felt so alone, so cut off from everything, and I almost couldn’t bear it because I thought that was it. It was gone for good, and nothing could bring it back because people knew I was dead and nobody rescues corpses. The other things didn’t matter so much, not compared to losing the Force. But I fought it. Eventually... it got better, I got better, and we escaped.”

He fell quiet as he considered her last question. The Force was everything to him. He’d heard people compare it to another sense, but that was nonsense. Tahl had lost her sight, but she’d remained a Jedi because she still had the Force to compensate. Still, he was a Jedi, and therefore raised to be selfless. “I would. If I had to, if lives... a life, even, depended on my choice. I wouldn’t like it at all, but... yes.”

The gentle pressure of his fingers as he brushed her hair back calmed Yvaine more than any application of the Force might have. She caught his hand in her own as he told his story, looking at him with wide eyes. "So you know what it's like, in a way," she said slowly. He was entirely too noble and good and if she didn't know that it wasn't an act, she wouldn't have believed such a person could be real. Yvaine chewed on her lip for a moment, then huffed out a breath. Not quite a laugh, but something related to one.

"A life? I don't know if that's..." She trailed off, then took another deep breath. She'd died, she could at least tell him why she'd come back. "Do you want to know why I gave it up? Not because I didn't want to be dead. I've lived thousands of years, I always knew my time would draw to an end and I would go out, but... I couldn't bear the thought of you losing one more person you cared about." It felt as though she'd swallowed a rock, and she looked away, not wanting to see his face as he told her she was being foolish.

“In a way. How you’re feeling, though, it’s still unique to you,” he told her, then fell quiet as she explained her reasoning.

Oh.

Oh kriff.

He watched as she looked away from him, and ducked his own head in response. For a few brief moments, he had wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her and thank her and tell her to stop being so silly for worrying about his reaction so much, because she was back. She was back, and she’d come back for him.

And then he’d remembered how Anakin had begun to Fall. How that bastard Sith had found the flaws and weaknesses in his Padawan that Obi-Wan had been unable to temper in him, the most obvious being the boy’s inability to stop forming attachments. Then he remembered his own brief dance along the edge of the cliff face, after Qui-Gon had died and the Zabrak had mocked while he’d been trapped behind a karking force-field, unable to do anything but watch. He shouldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He was a Jedi, first and foremost. They could only ever be friends.

He realised she was still holding his hand, so he shifted his grip in hers and squeezed gently. “Yvaine. Thank you. You’re not even human for a full day yet, and already you’ve been more selfless than most of us will ever be in our lives,” he said when she looked up at him. And then he leant over to kiss her on the forehead. “I missed you, very much,” he whispered, then went to make tea.

That was it? Yvaine stared after him, feeling a strange sort of hot stinging around her eyes and a chilled feeling in her fingers where he'd gripped her hand. Somehow she'd expected... well, she wasn't sure what she had expected. Perhaps she should have known that that was all he would be able to offer her in return. After their conversation when he'd turned back to himself and told her he wasn't supposed to form attachments this shouldn't have come as a surprise, she supposed. And he had said he'd missed her. That was something. It just... didn't feel like enough.

She stood up, drawing the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch with her. "I don't think I want any tea, actually," she managed, through the strange sensation in her throat. "I'm going up to the roof. I'll be back later." Being human was rubbish, if this was what it was like. Everything made her feel clogged up and full of unfamiliar sensations, even worse than when she'd first fallen. Perhaps the fresh air would do her good. She didn't stop to think about how it was the dead of winter and she was no longer impervious to the cold. She simply slipped out the door and headed towards the stairs, hoping he wouldn't follow her.