Chapter Text
The memories develop slowly, like the water that trickles into the soil of the plants her master insists on keeping. She does not realise what they are at first, doesn’t really have the mental ability to comprehend them but they are there, have always been there by the time she understands.
This lifetime, her second lifetime is now so she tries not to dwell too much on the first - though it surely shapes her. Because she remembers when she was not Twi’lek, when she was not a slave. Aben’yaa was not always like she is now.
And she cannot forget it.
Now, she knows no peace, no relaxation. This second childhood is no childhood at all. Perhaps Obi-Wan’s was not much of one either in which case she thinks the two added together give her one.
She tries to be content with this.
But what Obi-Wan’s memories tell her is the Force, seems to nudge her, urges her to leave, to go away. But Aben’yaa does not want Obi-Wan’s life. Does not want to see another massacre. Besides, she has already seen death in this second life. It is a slow massacre - but it is a massacre and it tears at her. Why should she search for a third massacre? Why would she take the risk to leave?
Obi-Wan reaches out to the Force, using it to reaffirm exactly where the chip is located in her thigh. Aben’yaa’s light blue-grey thigh - like a cloudy, dim sky. Her colouring is reversed in this life, her eyes are a light auburn. Perhaps white would have been more appropriate but Aben’yaa has not seen a Twi’lek with completely white eyes before.
Even is she had met one, she would not have known. Aben’yaa lives somewhere wet and hot currently and the other Twi’leks show her how to cover herself in mud. They do not want to be identifiable to their masters, should they ever escape.
They tell her that it is not the way everywhere.
The other Twi’leks tell her that on their home planet, on Ryloth, there are beautiful varied shades and detailed lekkus but Aben’yaa is not too sure about that. They laughed at her when she said so, and acquiesced.
For those Twi’leks are Ryl. They grew on Ryloth, speak Ryl (or Twi’leki as it is also called). But the Twi’leks here are different.
”We are the Lyr.” she is told over and over again.
“They teach us Basic and Ryl and how to please them, how to eat and everything else they want but they do not teach us Lyr.”
Whatever someone gives you, Aben’yaa knows, can also be taken away. The Force gave them all life and it can take it away. It has already taken hers/Obi-Wan’s away once. Ben still wonders why it is her that has been given this opportunity. Why did the Force chose her? Or Obi-Wan? And sometimes she wonders if there are any more like her.
But does it matter?
Aben’yaa often allows her mind to wander - she is too young to complete any tasks that are not simple labour like sweeping or sorting and those tasks are so repetitive that they barely require any brainpower.
And the Force calls her in these moments, compels her and it is almost like she is meditating again. She does not get much time to herself, would not want much time to herself anyway so she only meditates when she moves.
She has no intention of being a soldier, of fighting on the frontline and breathing war but she wants to be prepared so she uses Obi-Wan’s memories to train her body as she works. It is not an entirely successful effort - she is malnourished, young and her body is different but she remembers Qui-Gon and Ahsoka (and Anakin sometimes) because she knows she has to prepare herself.
She shows them to the other Twi’leks which is perhaps not wise but she cares not. They are her family, her caretakers and one day, she will be back for them.
She might not want to leave but she knows she will for the Force calls and it becomes increasingly hard to resist.
Aben’yaa tells the others that it tells her to leave, that it showed her the moves she taught them and they tell her to go. They know she speaks of the Force and the Force has helped them avoid many a beating.
”If it calls you” they say, “If it calls you, you must go.”
”Like Twi.” Aben’yaa responds.
”Who Twi?” One of the younglings, a little younger than Aben’yaa physically if not mentally) ventures. Aben’yaa cannot make out their features in the darkness of night but she does see the way their lekku tilt as they wait curiously for an answer.
Aben’yaa settles back and allows the raspy voice of an Elder sweep over hi-her, telling the child of the mouth of Vulcan and the tragedy of Twi. The sentences pass between the Elders, slipping from their lips like a prayer and Obi-Wan falls into meditation as they speak.
”Ryloth!” the younglings exclaim together and Aben’yaa comes back to herself, the corners of her mouth curling up into a smile. Clearly the Elders have reached the end of their tale - the younglings always delight in shouting ‘Ryloth’ at the end.
Her mood darkens as she remembers that they barely shout - it is more of a loud whisper. Their masters do not tolerate such frivolities and they are more than ready to discipline them for interrupting their slumber.
She gazes into the single candle the hundred or so of them gather around and can no longer sense its paltry warmth. The cold and the dark encircles it and a particularly strong wind almost extinguishes it.
It might be better if it is extinguished - they shall be able to use it tomorrow - but the younglings look at it as if it is a great fire and she cannot bring herself to blow it out.
Sentimentality has always been one of her weaknesses.