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"Tea?"
"Gladly, thank you." The first holds her hand out, graceful feather-laced fingers stretching in a gesture of thanks. "No sweetener, please."
"Naturally." The second sprinkles a pinch of dried leaves and herbs into the bottom of a small cup. She then takes a small kettle of hot water and pours it over the leaves. "I was surprised when you responded," She says as she works, "I had heard that you faded long ago."
"I heard the same about you." The first smiles softly. "I admit it surprised me to hear someone calling my name after so long, and I certainly did not expect being treated to Bitterroot tea of all things."
"Some Bitterroot, some other spices and things I came across and found quite potable." The second takes the cup in her hand and places it within the first's reach, before setting a second, empty cup in front of herself to prepare another. "Are there others who you have spoken with already?"
"I have spoken to others, yes. Old friends, old enemies. Former teachers and students."
"Ah, students." The second has a bit of disgust, or perhaps bitterness, in her voice. "Those who must misunderstand and misconstrue. Would that we had the clarity then that we do now."
"I watched a student of mine join us, he was one of those I spoke with." The first shakes her head. "He was so fierce, so fearless, but his vision was so limited. Now, he sees so much more, his eyes are opened and he is humbled."
"Are you speaking of the Solo boy?" The second sits with her own cup of tea cradled between her one hand and empty place where the other had once been. "I heard stories of that one long before he joined us here."
"No, not him, another old student. He took the lessons that I gave him and interpreted them in… interesting ways." The first sighs and feathers fluff out around the nape of her neck as she stares into the distance in thought. "As for the one you call the Solo boy, he is ever crowded with a furious sense of the Force about him now, it makes him unreachable here.”
"So I hear." A coy, almost teasing note hovers in the second's voice. "He carved a long line of blood and tears in his time, did he not?"
"I sought to help a boy change into a man, a fledgling become a flyer. What path he walked beyond what I taught him was not my responsibility to direct, his choices were his own. I imagine that thought and history will judge him differently than I do."
"Some fall on one side of the line, some fall on the other." The second says. She swirls her tea around in her cup. "The like of the Force to set up such a binary dichotomy, light and dark, it is an unkind thing. Life is shades of grey, everyone must walk in shadow."
"Yet the drive and intent, the pulse of heart and desire, that speaks of the same, doesn't it? For him, he saw himself as a student, always as a student, his place always evolved as he learned more. That left him without a rock to stand on, no foundation. And what is a student without a teacher?"
"A philosopher. The universe is their teacher. And the universe teaches them the lessons that it will."
The first seems to shake herself from her reverie. "What of your students? I know you had many, but the ones they call the Revenant and the Exile, their stories seem to occupy so many minds even now. I hear so much about them, about their deeds and legacies, yet also how they could not be more different from each other."
"It is true, they walked very different paths." The second does not sound satisfied with her own answer for a moment before going on. "No, perhaps that is not true. Their paths were similar, but they walked them in different ways. Neither wholly to my satisfaction, of course, but then if there is a student that ever fully satisfies their teacher then the teacher must be a poor one indeed."
The first smiles into her tea. "You must have driven many students mad."
"I suppose. Those who did not seek to destroy the galaxy decided instead to rule it, or perhaps just to break it out of its stupor." The second leans her head back a bit. "But we have that in common, I suppose."
"I suppose we do." The first acknowledges with a slight nod. "You have your Revenant and Exile, I have my Solo."
"That bloodline is an abomination. Solos and Skywalkers alike, gifted and born of the Force itself like they are the spawn of deity. Bah." The second sips her tea. "Anointed by prophecy. It's a wonder that only two of them ruled the galaxy in their days, I would have expected a dynasty to be set up that ruled for a millennium."
"They were always tempered by the times and their own consciences. As strong as they are, they are called by the Force itself in a way that always keeps their feet on some even keel, deep though it might be. The light and the dark of their souls are amplified and projected in a way that few I've seen can match."
"Hmph. Only a fool blames the Force for their own actions."
"Agreed. But yet, when the Force forms an echo around your heart and reflects its desires back upon it, it can be difficult to push back. Some feel trapped. Some submit willingly. Some manage to change their heart's desire despite it all."
"And what of those that rise above their heart's desire to do what their mind knows is best for them?"
"Well then. I suppose it would be a matter of what their mind believes that it knows." The first sips her tea, almost teasing.
"Indeed." The second does not sound impressed, but she does sound accepting. "There is an obsession with knowledge, but it is wisdom that should guide. Experience of the universe and the beings in it."
"In your experience, is it best for those with the power of the Force around them to seek to impact their world or turn away from it?" The first asks, "Your students, the Revenant, and the Exile, they turned their galaxy upside down in their time. As did my Solo. But was that what was best for them?"
"I fault the Jedi for that." The second says with bitterness. "The Jedi fill them with a sense of responsibility, that they must somehow use their gifts for the unending betterment of others, that they have a higher calling by the Force itself or some such dreck. Their vision is so limited. They do not see the universe, only their own little part of it. And they think the best way to hold back the darkness is to flail blindly against it rather than creating more light."
"Would it be best if they remained quiet, then? Sat out their lives on their home planets, never became Jedi, never went about the galaxy."
"I would say so, yes. But I also know that the Force being what it is, that would never happen. It seems to draw the destined out into prominence regardless of how qualified they are for the task. Some rise to the occasion, some do not."
"We are all pieces in the game of destiny, pulled here and there by forces we do not know. The Force, luck, chance, it has many names. And in that game, some are pawns who think themselves kings, and some are kings who are certain they are mere pawns."
"And there are those who know their roles, who indeed see the whole board, and who must play their part and abide by the game's rules despite it all." The second sets her cup of tea aside. "You and I both, I think, fit that role."
"It can be frustrating to see the more and yet not be able to direct the pieces." The first says with a reticent smile while tracing a feathery finger around the rip off her cup. "Near omniscience without omnipotence is a curse we both must bear, as many do who join the Force."
"You are too generous with them." The second shakes her head, but not insistently, rather more indulgently. "Too many Jedi or Sith cannot see past the end of their own noses to things of importance. The Jedi are too passive and too insular, the Sith are too selfish and too brash. The few among them with true vision are reduced to shouting for attention from the corners where they have been shunned."
"Or moving themselves to the center of the board, unseen and thus unopposed." The first teases. "That much we share without any doubt."
"True, very true." The second looks for a moment at her discarded cup of tea, then turns back. "I did not ask for you to come here merely for tea and conversation, as stimulating as both of those things may be."
"I did not think that was so, but I do thank you for providing both." The first takes one last sip of her tea before setting her cup aside as well. "What is the purpose of this meeting, if I may ask?"
"We both talk about the game, about pieces moving across the board both within and without our control and purview. As things stand now, we have both been removed from the board, but we may still observe all we wish, our own world and the past and future."
"All of these exist in the Force, of course." The first murmurs. "Time does not flow here as it did in the world we came from."
"I ask you, then, what is the role of the observer except to see what might be and what is to happen?" The second challenges, but her voice is not harsh. "I am not as arrogant as some, I have not imposed my will upon the world again since leaving it. But perhaps that has been a missed opportunity. There is the past, there is the future, but there is also a now that we may see."
"You are proposing that we do as others have done and return to the world that is?" The first speaks almost accusingly, but also thoughtfully. "Such a thing might not be possible."
It was the second's turn to smile. "Who is either of us to say what is impossible?"
The first smiled in return. "A good point, well made. My question then becomes, why? Why return to the world that is at all, why go back? We have had our time, our students have all gone, there is no one left who knows our names."
"All the more reason, then. We can influence, guide, teach, and there will be no judgment or prejudice left for us. No one to call us a teacher. No one to condemn us as heretics. We can pass our wisdom along to the world that is and have students with ears that will listen. A voice from beyond is always given more weight than a person in front of you, even if they are speaking the same truth."
The first ponders for a moment, long feathery fingers threading together in her lap. The second does not prompt or prod her. After all, patience is easy in a place where time is immaterial. Is it hours before she responds, or just moments? Neither, or perhaps both.
“Perhaps a voice of questioning or doubt to endeavor a wayward soul to think more.” The first says at last, “Perhaps an impression or thought to prod them in the way they should go. We are one with the Force, and who is to say that the Force does not speak through us while we speak through it?”
“Even if we do not, fools and simpletons will believe that we do.” The second says with satisfaction. “And that is just as well. The world has no end of simpletons and fools.”
The first smiles, eyes focused again into the distance, as if she could see time and space part before her to show her the world that is. “Neither a teacher nor a heretic. This will be fun.”