Work Text:
Mara rarely sees Skywalker or Organa when she comes to the Temple for her intermittent training. Whether it is Tano’s request or their volition and busy schedules, she doesn’t know.
Perhaps it’s for the best. She would rather not look like a fool in front of either of them. She struggled with meditation and now she struggles with the simple task of summoning the lightsaber from Tano’s open palm.
“Open your mind. Let the Force flow through you.”
Teeth grinding, “My mind is open.”
It seemed so much easier under the Emperor’s tutelage. But then it was succeed or suffer his disappointment. She focuses on her successes from back then. How did it feel like to have that kind of power?
Suddenly, the hilt jerks from Tano’s hand and into hers.
Mara looks up at her Jedi Master with satisfaction. Her excitement is not reflected back and the lightsaber is lifted from her grasp with ease. It floats in front of Tano.
“We do not control the Force; it is our ally. It is a subtler touch than yanking things across the room. Try again.”
Mara would have been angry if the togrutan had used any other tone. Tano is genial; she is not taunting or accusing Mara of improper technique. She is trying to help her unlearn what she has learned.
Closing her eyes and extending her hand, Mara exhales, trying to let the Force wash over her this time. And then she feels it, a little tug at her fingertips, willing her to stretch out for the hovering lightsaber. It comes to her in a curved arc, falling lightly into her hand.
When she looks up this time, Ahsoka is smiling. Behind her, Skywalker watches proudly too.
----------
He stays for the rest of the training session, though Skywalker’s presence seems to serve as more of a distraction than anything else.
Still, hearing Ahsoka’s praise at the end is worth it.
She takes off through the halls of the Temple on her own. There’s nowhere else for her to go on Coruscant – nowhere else that she wants to go, at any rate. This is what she came here for, this is where she’ll stay until it’s time to return to Wild Karrde.
“I’m gonna need that back.”
Mara nearly grabs for her blaster. Exasperated, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry.”
Regretfully, she unbuckles the hilt from her belt and hands it over.
Skywalker answers her unspoken thoughts, “We’ll get you your own soon.”
Mara pauses. It’s too unlikely for him to guess exactly what she’s thinking. “Don’t ever enter my head.”
He apologizes again, “But you will need your own lightsaber.”
She supposes he’s earned her respect and her gratitude, but that doesn’t stop her from sarcastically retorting, “Are you going to let all students of the Order make lightsabers this early in their training?”
He laughs, “Hopefully they won’t all be as obstinate as you. Ahsoka thinks you’ll be ready for your own soon and, from what I saw today, I agree.”
Her face heats. Ahsoka’s praise is justified (a teacher encouraging a student). His praise is unwarranted.
“You don’t think so?” He looks confused and maybe a little hurt.
Mara swallows. The day’s training went well, but only after days and days of not getting it. She also tapped her old training – the Dark Side.
Finally, she says, “You were only watching when I was getting it right.”
He nods and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Ahsoka told me you were having trouble. She said it might have something to do with how the Emperor trained you.”
More hostile than she’s been to him in ages, “I said ‘stay out of my mind,’ Skywalker. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I wasn’t in your head, Mara. I didn’t have to be.”
She turns sharply on her heel. Talking to him is a mind game, even without his ability to practically read her thoughts.
“How old were you when the Emperor made you his assassin? Fifteen? Sixteen? That’s a long time to be in his service.”
“I was fifteen and I was tortured if I didn’t get it right.”
“All I’m saying is it’s natural for you to resort to your prior training. I don’t blame you for it, neither does Ahsoka.”
Coolly turning back, “But it does concern you.”
Sighing, “Yes.”
“So you trust me, but you’re afraid of me too.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he protests.
She snaps back, “Then what did you mean?”
“We’re afraid for you, not of you. We just want you to be careful; we don’t want to lose you to the Dark Side. We’re here to help you.”
It bothers Mara that he hides behind Ahsoka when talking to her. He’s the one here. He’s the one speaking to her.
“Do you think I’m in danger of going to the Dark Side?”
“We’re not –”
“Not we, you.”
A year ago it wouldn’t have mattered if he spoke for himself or not, she wouldn’t have listened, but he’s the reason she’s here. She wants to hear what he thinks.
His face clouds, his expression unreadable as Vader’s mask. Instinctively Mara recoils, but the cloud passes over.
Skywalker is himself again. “You’re in no more danger of going to the Dark Side than anyone else, Mara, that’s what I think.”
“Even you?”
“Even me. But you served the Dark Side before, and you didn’t turn. You’re strong, Mara. I don’t think a slip up will determine your fate.”
His words do not have the intended reassuring effect. He is as liable to fall as she is, without being trained by the Emperor’s hand.
“How about you watch my back and I watch yours, Skywalker? Deal?”
The corner of his mouth turns upwards, “Alright, Mara. Deal.”
----------
Mara grows accustomed to having Skywalker frequently at her side.
He sits in on more of her training sessions with Ahsoka; the pair of them work to help her better understand the Force. And Mara watches him on his missions which coincide with Karrde’s smuggling.
Where they were thrust together before, they now go willingly. Mara’s more confident neither of them will turn. She isn’t sure what to make of it at first. Cooperation becomes teamwork, not just business. She supposes it is something like friendship (she doesn’t use the term as freely as he does).
But what surprises Mara most is how she’s come to depend on others, let alone Skywalker.
The frequency of working together dies down. Keeping peace throughout the galaxy in searching for other Jedi keeps Skywalker constantly on the move and work doesn’t allow much extra time for training.
When she doesn’t see or hear from him in a couple of weeks, Mara is glad she didn’t let herself rely on him completely.
----------
The new blade flashes violet before her eyes.
It’s hers.
Ahsoka tells Mara it is a rare choice of color, but not unheard of – blue or green were more common in the days of the Old Order. Mara likes the shade, its mix of blue and red is a reminder: her training isn’t traditional. Her roots are Dark, but her nurture is Light.
The basics are simple to learn, not frustrating or tedious; this is the part she has been waiting for. She drills form sequences and stances even when not on Coruscant. They are natural and fluid, a far more useful tool altogether for clearing one’s mind and letting the Force flow.
“Not bad, Jade.”
Mara spins around. Unfortunately, the cargo hold with the broken cooling system is the only space large enough on the ship for her to practice, but its major defect is often an asset, nobody disturbs her; she and Skywalker are alone.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, “If I’d known I was going to be graced with your presence I would have freshened up.”
“I can come back later if you’d prefer.”
“Not necessary. What brings you out here?”
“On my way to meet Lando – thought I’d get a lift, since that’s where you’re headed.”
It’s been weeks since they last met. She hates to admit it, even to herself, but she’s felt Skywalker’s absence keenly, both during training and on jobs. Enemy-turned-partner; it’s good to have him back.
He handles her new lightsaber, examining its construction. He nods approvingly as he passes it back, “Have you dueled with it yet?”
“A few times with Ahsoka, once with Leia.”
“How about a little practice now?” He grins almost too mischievously, like he’s been waiting for her to reach this point. It’s too enticing a challenge to pass up.
“You’re on, farmboy.”
They draw blades and the fight begins. They start slow initially, Skywalker makes a couple of wide thrusts, testing her reflexes and gauging her skill level, while Mara bides her time, waiting for an opening.
She finds one in his broad swing. Stepping forward, she moves in.
There is a giant clash and spark as Skywalker blocks. (He’s faster than she thought.)
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he teases.
“I’m just getting warmed up.”
Mara breaks the lock on her lightsaber and swiftly brings it around again. He matches her speed, parrying her every move. It would be frustrating and taunting if she didn’t keep reminding herself how much more experienced Skywalker is at this.
She tries to utilize her advantages. She’s smaller and knows their surroundings, she keeps the onslaught going, getting in close and making him move around the cramped room. She’s quicker, if she throws enough at him fast enough, maybe she’ll be able to strike unexpectedly.
Lost in her method for turning the duel in her favor, Mara almost misses the low swipe at her legs. She jumps onto a crate just in time.
They both pause to catch their breath.
“It’s about as hot as the harvest in here.”
“You’re not doing yourself any favors with that farmboy image.”
Skywalker’s lightsaber snaps off as he fiddles with the zipper at his neck. In another moment, he’s extracted his arms from the orange sleeves, the top half of the flight suit hanging at his waist.
Her own jumpsuit feels sticky. She does the same.
“You ready?”
She nods, her mouth too dry to reply, and she’s in the air before Skywalker’s even reignited his lightsaber.
She lands lightly behind him and her swings her lightsaber down over his head. Before she has to break her momentum, he’s spun around and blocked her swing with his green blade.
He takes a step forward and she takes a step back. The pace quickens again. There are no clear rules, no clear boundaries. The duel is a free-for-all and she’s losing desperately, now that Skywalker’s truly entered the game.
Mara is corned between two crates, faster than she can process it.
She’s breathing heavily, sweat dripping down her neck. Luke’s faring no better in the heat, but he’s not the one with the blade to his throat.
“Ready to yield?”
Mind racing, she licks her lips, trying to moisten her mouth, “Not quite.”
In a last ditch attempt to turn the duel in her favor, Mara knocks the lightsaber free of his hand and spins into him. He falls for it.
Luke grapples for her right arm, but misses, catching the left instead.
Mara has just enough strength to slam him against a crate and pin him there. Raising the purple blade, “Do you yield?”
He smiles as he yields; eyes alive with the thrill of the fight.
She feels it too, forgetting, for a minute, to let go. Her pulse won’t slow. Beneath her thumb, Luke’s refuses to do the same.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Ghent, one of Karrde’s new slicer-hires, steps into the cargo hold, one hand holding onto the doorframe. “Captain wants you on the bridge – you too Jedi Skywalker. We’ll be arriving on Bespin soon.” The kid disappears into the hall.
Mara pulls back quick as she can once he’s gone. Her face is flush, Luke looks much the same as he collects himself; she attributes it to the heat and the duel.
Almost instantly, Luke’s hand reaches for the back of his neck.
“That was – you did – good fight.”
“Yeah, thanks. You too.”
Impulse compels her to grab him again – grab him and finish what they started. Mara can feel her face getting hotter as she stands there. She bolts to prevent herself from doing anything she knows she’ll regret.
On the bridge, she can barely look at him, knowing the sense of excitement and adventure that live there. She doesn’t believe it, but she wants to see it again.
When she does muster the courage to look up at him, Luke will not meet her eye.
-----------
Karrde’s standing business relationship with Calrissian promises a short stay in Cloud City.
Calrissian’s friendship with Luke promises he’ll be there too.
They dance around each other. Not as they did in the cargo hold, a quick and alluring tempo of their sparring drawing them closer together, but an awkward stumbling about to avoid each other.
She may have felt bold on the bridge of Wild Karrde, but on neutral ground it’s confusing to be in his company.
Mara takes charge of the new inventory while Karrde makes his deals with the tibanna gas mining unions (he maintains some legitimate business). The job keeps her near the landing bay, where there’s less of a chance of a run-in. But there are always exceptions; Calrissian, for one, purposefully seeks her out.
He flashes one of his debonair smiles at her, “I was wondering if you might accompany me for a drink this evening?”
“Did Karrde put you up to this?”
“He didn’t, in fact. You surprised someone wants to have the pleasure of your company?”
He’s charming; she’ll admit it – charming enough to make it difficult to say no.
Mara consents and the door to the landing bay opens. A familiar astromech beeps and whirls as it makes its way to the ship, Luke behind it. He spots her and stops in his tracks. Mara tenses, she forgot his X-wing was still on board.
“Luke, old buddy, can you believe she agreed to have a drink with me?”
For the first time in days, Luke doesn’t tear his eyes immediately away, but she can’t read him at all, “It’s pretty unbelievable, Lando.” Then, as though he can’t escape fast enough, “R2 and I’ve got some work to do. You two have a good time.”
He gives her another look she doesn’t understand and boards the ship. The way things have been between them over the past few days, Mara doesn’t give it another thought.
She goes with Lando to the Vapor Room. She wakes up in his bed.
----------
Things with Lando, whatever they were, end as suddenly as they began. Mara is glad of it.
Life goes back to what she knows: smuggling and training.
Nothing about her work changes; training gets harder. Ahsoka convinces her to spend more time on it. The more time and concentration she devotes to training, the easier it becomes.
Ahsoka mentions something about bringing her on missions soon and Mara nods, absentmindedly. She’s no longer paying attention to Ahsoka; a presence in the corridor distracts her.
“I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I’ll be right back.” Mara runs out the door and chases it down the hall to the eastern entrance. “Luke!”
He stops abruptly in his tracks and hesitantly turns to face her.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she accuses
“Yes.”
“What happened to watching each other’s backs?”
“You don’t need me to watch your back, Mara, and you know it. What’s this really about?”
“I want to know why you’re avoiding me.”
“I thought it would be best to back off graciously.”
“‘Back of graciously?’ What does that even mean? Back off from what?”
Waving a hand, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
He turns away. Mara resists the urge to tear at her hair. Of course it matters, why in the galaxy wouldn’t it? “You can’t keep walking in and out of my life!”
More and more, Luke’s absence bothers her. It’s not like before when she wouldn’t see him for weeks. At least that made sense. Since Bespin, they’ve seen each other in passing, but when he spots her, he deliberately looks the other way.
“You’re the reason I came here in the first place, and now you won’t even acknowledge me. I thought we were friends.”
He flinches, “We are!”
“Then where have you been the past few weeks?” she demands.
She’s surprised when his tone is more regretful than defensive. “I was trying to give you and Lando your space. After our duel, I didn’t know where we stood with each other. Things were odd between us and I thought it would be better if I just stayed out of the way.”
There’s a shift in the air. Anger and annoyance abate.
“You stupid, stupid farmboy,” she whispers.
“Would you please stop calling me that,” Luke protests weakly.
“Not a chance – especially not when you keep acting like one.”
They’ve both been acting like idiots. They could have figured it out months ago, if they hadn’t been so stupid – so wrapped up in their embarrassment about being drawn to each other. It wasn’t just the heat of the cargo bay or the rush from the duel making them flush.
The Force hovers around them – a gentle push in the right direction.
Mara doesn’t need it this time. She closes the space between them with alarming speed, nearly knocking Luke off his feet and kissing him.
When the Empire fell, Mara would have never imagined herself befriending rebels, training to be a Jedi, and kissing the man who brought about its end. How strange the galaxy is to lead her to the other side from was she was.
Luke breaks away first, but doesn’t go far. He presses his brow to hers, tangling his hands in the ends of her hair.
“Still think I’m a farm boy?”
“You’re going to have to do more than that to convince me otherwise.”