It's been a while....not much writing in months, some because of very good things and some because of...work. But trying to dust off the fics and get back to it.
Here's a snippet from an unpublished bit of my KotOR series....takes place after the Star Forge on the beach of Lehon....and, yes, Malak lives (sorry, not sorry).
“Why didn’t you leave me to die?” It was the first time Alek had spoken at all since their fight on the Star Forge. His harsh mechanical voice still sounded unfamiliar in Revan’s ears. You did that. He wished Aoibhinn had stayed. “Why, Revan? Why didn’t you let me die?”
“Don’t call me that.” Revan knew the other man was watching him for some sort of answer, but couldn’t meet his gaze, stared instead at the horizon. Coward.
“Why? Did you not claim that name for yourself? And now….now you are Revan the Redeemed. Nice ring to that. The Republic will love it.” Malak’s laugh was worse than his voice, a hideous distortion of the warmth of Alek’s.
When Revan said nothing, Alek continued, “What should I call you then?”
“Should I call you Malak?” He hated the cruelty in his voice at the question, especially given the resignation in Alek’s reply.
Revan didn’t answer that either. There weren’t any answers really. They should both be dead by each other’s hand, a certain poetic justice to that. The once heroes of the Republic, fallen so far, far enough to want each other dead despite the things that had been between them.
But they weren’t dead, because of those things that had been between them.
They were running out of time here, time on this beach where they’d sat before when they’d first found the Star Forge. They’d fallen by then, Revan because he thought he could use the darkness, Malak because he’d been swallowed by it. Even so, they’d been enough of themselves then that for a few hours at least, they’d left behind Revan and Malak and climbed out of the darkness, could be the young men they’d been on Dantooine when war was only an abstraction and they’d first found what it had meant to love.
Revan had thought that love was a weakness, but like many things he’d been so sure of, he’d been wrong.
“Does it hurt?” He looked at Alek then, forced himself to see the cold metal jaw that had once been flesh. If it had been flesh it would have clinched in anger at the question.
Alek’s eyes were the same though, or they would be except the color was wrong.
“Yeah, Revan, it fucking hurts. Always.”
Revan wasn’t sure if he meant the jaw or something else or all of it. He wanted to ask if Alek remembered being here on this beach, if anything from before mattered now. But that was a cruel and selfish impulse, so he swallowed his words. What could he say that wouldn’t be selfish? There was nothing.
“Do you remember it?” That was a loaded question wasn’t it? He could hardly be angry.
“Not everything. But enough. I ….I hurt you.” And that was true in so many way. “You tried to stop me, on Dantooine, the cave. I dreamed of that. One of the first things I remembered.”
“You were always so fucking sure.” The bitter anger in the voice belonged to Alek.
“I’m not now.” That was a selfish thing to say, too, Revan knew. He wanted Alek to forgive him and he didn’t deserve it. “The first thing I remembered was you killing me, trying to anyway.” He laughed in a small ugly way.
Alek still held his gaze hard, “I hated you.” He stopped and looked at the sky, his eyes half closed, “I hated you but I couldn’t stop….” His strange voice broke and fell silent, his ragged breathing the only sound above the waves.
Maybe the only thing to say was the truth. “Those were dreams, the first things I remembered. Wasn’t sure they were anything other than dreams. It’s like who I was, really was, was this itch, right there beneath the surface of the blanks in my mind, trying to claw its way out. You were always there. Always with me.” He was watching Alek, who still watched the sky. “After the Leviathan, it started to come back, real memories and not just in dreams. The first thing, the first thing…” He clinched his teeth against the rush of the memory. “The first thing that came back was Dantooine when we were…when we…that place out on the plains we used to go…when we….” He had to look away then. “When I knew what I wanted was you.”
“Fuck you, Revan.” Alek’s voice was barely a rattle. “Fuck you.”
They looked at each other then, both with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry.” Those words, too little, too late.
“Why didn’t you just kill me?”
He just had the truth, as weak as it was. “I couldn’t. I remembered too much.”
Those words hung in the wind and the waves as they watched their faces, waiting for the other to break. Revan half wished that someone would come looking for them, tell them it was time to go, half wished that no one would ever come, that they’d just leave the two of them here on this beach to wallow in the things that could have been.
“Not everything, but enough. I can’t remember everything about what I found, beyond the Outer Rim, why I thought we needed the Star Forge, why I wanted…why Malachor. But I remember you, Alek, what I did to you. Remember how things were before that.”
“What do you want me to say, Revan?” He could almost imagine hearing Alek’s voice as it should sound. “That I forgive you? That I never stopped…” For just a moment, his eyes looked right, just sad and hurt. Then he closed them, leaned back against the rock, his broken face tipped to the sun.
