#aflamingstar

Merkara sits on the armrest of his chair and Relu reaches for her, pulling her into his lap. Her lips curl in a small smug smile. 

She sweeps an errant strand of hair away from his face, her fingers linger as they brush his skin. “How much do you expect to do if you are so exhausted that you can't even see straight?”

Relu lets his breath out in a long sigh.

“I'm afraid,” he admits, running his fingers up and down the length of her spine. “What if I miss something important? What if I'm needed somewhere and don't get there on time?” 

What if another crucial moment comes and he is not fast enough? Not clever enough? Not good enough? He is so tired, so awfully tired of constantly being outmatched and feeling as if none of his efforts matters. 

“You’re not the only one fighting this war.” Merkara strokes the side of his face in a caress, cups his cheek. “You don’t have to treat it like your sole responsibility. Have some trust in your allies, they can figure it out. You're not alone in this, Relu. You have never been alone.”

She has always had this inexplicable power to dismiss his fears with nothing more than a few words. Sometimes she doesn’t even need to speak, she just touches him and he forgets the world. And she knows about the influence she has on him too well, but Relu doesn’t mind. 

He has nothing to say in response, resting his head against her palm. Merkara leans so close to him that their noses touch. The warmth of her body envelopes him like a blanket. The scent of her perfume surrounds him—a soothing mix of lavender and bergamot.  

“Just rest,” she whispers. “I'm here.”

But you're not here, Relu thinks suddenly. This realization comes out of nowhere, but it feels right.

“You're not here,” he says out loud, and something tight squeezes in his chest. He remembers through the haze of sleepiness. “You're somewhere in Zakuul. I don't know how to find you, how to rescue you. I have been trying so hard, but I’m not getting any closer. I couldn't even stop them when they took you away.” He chokes on his breath before concluding. “You have been gone for more than two years.” 

Every word hurts because it's true. It hurts so much that Relu wants to forget it as soon as he says it. He grabs Merkara by the upper arms, desperation tightens his grip until his fingers are digging into her skin. 

Let it be real, he thinks, unable to say it because of an aching lump in his throat. Please. Oh please, let it be real. 

Merkara smiles at him sadly, ruefully.

“I'm not here,” she agrees. “But it doesn't mean that I'm not real.”

Cautiously, Ashara joins the discussion. She wasn’t important enough in the Jedi Order to have strong connections there, but she knows of some Jedi who might be willing to break rules for peace. She is the one to approach them. If she manages to convince them, they talk to Merkara next, but Ashara gets to make first impressions and represent their cause. 

Ashara wants to believe in something so badly. She meets more potential allies and talks with infectious enthusiasm, rambling like a girl in love. She grows so confident that she suggests contacting the Barsen’thor ― she met him once, before he was important. He patiently listens to her, but his face is dark with skepticism and disapproval. Still, he concedes: “Maybe I will talk to your Master, if only to see what kind of a Sith can inspire such loyalty.” His words sting. Ashara tells herself that she’s not doing it for Merkara, she’s doing it because it’s right. But then she returns to Imperial space and catches herself lingering for words of praise, for an approving glance, for a brilliant smile. She feels warmth spreading inside her in response to little bits of validation. 

Merkara knows that Ashara will be there to slap her on the wrist. If Merkara gets too drunk on power to see straight, Ashara won’t be afraid to confront her about it. It’s a strangely comforting thought. Ashara pretends to be a perfect Sith apprentice in public and becomes entangled with the Imperial ways, but she still has the strength and clarity to say “No, this wrong.” “No, I will not allow it.” “No, how dare you?”

Together they consider so many possibilities of how the major galactic events might develop. But the threat of Zakuul is hidden out there, they never see it coming. When Merkara disappears during a confrontation with the Eternal Fleet, Ashara feels so lost. She steps out of her Master’s shadow and is immediately blinded by the light. To her horror, she realizes that her life has become intertwined with Merkara’s to the point where she doesn’t even know who she is on her own. So she struggles to find herself. When she hears that Merkara might be alive, she doesn’t go searching. 

Merkara doesn’t need Ashara this time. There are other people looking for her and they eventually succeed. Ashara hears the news and crushes the urge to travel halfway across the galaxy to see her Master. Former Master, she corrects herself. Former Master who might not forgive Ashara for giving up on her, might not understand her reasoning. And it’s alright, or so Ashara tells herself when she tastes bitterness on the tip of her tongue. She has learned to be important on her own, to make fully independent decisions, to stop expecting precious little bits of attention in exchange for her achievements.