#m!revan

And now? I ran away like the coward I was. Why did I visit him? Oh, of course, because of that dream. Not a vision or horrific memory of a war long passed, but a dream where we were together, at peace in Dantooine’s countryside.

It could never be.

And so, after I awoke, I made a decision. I needed to make the boundaries clear. A Jedi could never get close to another like…that, and it was a risk especially for him. The Council expected him to fall again, and I had as well, yet I didn’t want him to anymore. The light in his eyes, the smile on his face, the kind sarcastic words, it would all go away if he fell. After Kashyyyk, I’d promised myself that I would protect him.

But you’re not worried about him, are you? You’re worried about yourself.

I stopped in the hallway before the door to my room. Could I be at risk myself? No…no, I’d managed to remain strong for months. If I was going to fall, it would’ve been when I was first connected to Revan over this bond. Yet maybe Darth Revan remained, still, in the corners of our minds. Over time…maybe he’d grown stronger.

No, Darth Revan is dead.

I opened the door to my room and didn’t even bother turning on the lights. I collapsed on the bed with a sigh.

It was strange. By all accounts, I shouldn’t even be entertaining the notion. Before he’d been an enigma, a faceless evil that many Padawans shivered in fear of or told tall tales about. The mask of Revan had been a reminder of that fact and a return to my sanity. He used to be a monster. I should hate him.

Yet, did I hate him? Truly?

I closed my eyes. Tried to sleep. Yet the memory of what we did—

At first, his lips were as clumsy as mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to make us steady, and—

No!

I turn on the bed, grabbing my lips.

I never expected to like him, yet it made sense. His charisma…the Jedi council had warned me about it—to not be tempted by it like so many other Jedi when they fell. Yet he didn’t seem false or manipulative. What motivation would Wes have to get me to like him like this? Force, he didn’t even try to get me to like him in the first place!

Breathless. He pushed me against the wall and I closed my eyes—feeling static on our lips. Our kiss became deep—deeper—good—

Stop!

I pulled my hair and turned again.

I never expected to relate to him, yet it also made sense. Revan hated war. He hated the burden, he wanted to leave his responsibilities in the dust, to rebel, but he chose to face it anyway. How many choices? How many lives did he have to sacrifice before it wore him away into that simulacrum? In the face of those burdens, what had I done? Complain.

“I have to be strong for both of us.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No. I have to.”

“You’re not weak for loving me, Bastila.” He brushed away the hair from my eyes. “Because I love you.”

I never expected to sympathize with him. What he lost. Darth Revan had been a Jedi before after all. Through the bond I could tell what was real and what was false. The pain he felt during the Mandalorian Wars was real, the trauma that he experienced was real, the comradery with his soldiers…his heroism…that was real. It was all wiped away under a brush of white paint. The death of his parents? False. His destroyed world? False. The tales of his smuggling days? His drunken escapades? False. All of it.

Isn’t that a good thing? Wes the smuggler is a better person even though his memories aren’t real. Better than Darth Revan.

Yet the painting that was Revan was still there, wasn’t it? He had to be there still in order for the visions to show us the Star Maps. The white paint would chip off. As Jolee told me, he would find out the truth someday. We couldn’t be together because we were Jedi, yes, but it didn’t matter. We couldn’t be together either way for one reason alone.

I lied to him.

I was hurting him.