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0300 standard, the dim glow of Luminara’s beside chrono read. It was 0300 and she was engulfed in darkness and fleeting thoughts. She had contemplated completely switching her chronometer off but had decided against it, seeing as there was no point in sleeping anymore. Tomorrow, or rather later today, was going to be busy, there was no doubt in her mind, but Luminara knew that she would handle her workload when it came to her, knowing that a trusty brew of Mirialan tea would guide her through the long day. For now though, slumber was not an option.
Luminara had pondered many things in the comfort of her quarters, about whether or not she’d be called to the frontlines with the 41st, or if she’d have to go off-world without her padawan again. After having just gotten back from a week-long skirmish on Raxus, the last thing Luminara wanted was to be sent back into the flames of war, separated from Barriss once more. It wasn't the fighting or the constant bloodshed that Luminara despised most (though she definitely did not like it by any means), it was the constant of being split from Barriss. Whenever they did get assigned a mission together, it was a welcome surprise that had both Mirialans putting their brilliant minds together and completing the objective rather quickly and efficiently. It was rare to see them both off-duty at the same time and when they were, they did try and spend as much of their shore leave together as possible. As the war progressed and declined, so did Barriss’s morale. Each time Luminara passed Barriss in the halls, she’d always look under the weather, sullen as the bags under her eyes grew with each pass. Luminara’s heart ached, but there was nothing she could do that she hadn’t already tried. Not even the home-cooked meals after a long mission seemed to bring a smile to Barriss’s face. The war was detrimental to everyone involved, she decided, especially the younglings. She had always marvelled at Ahsoka’s enthusiasm to keep on fighting another battle, no matter the outcome of the last, because she, they all had hoped that one day, it would be over. And it would. Or at least Luminara told herself. How many more sleepless nights could she handle? How many more brothers could she lose? How long would Barriss keep going?
Luminara sat up and blinked her macabre thoughts away, her violet eyes now completely adjusted to the blackness. Perhaps some tea now would settle her nerves and maybe help her get back to sleep. As she approached the exit of her bedroom, Luminara mused what flavour tea she would prepare and if she should do a second cup on the off chance that Barriss was awake. When she left her room, Luminara didn’t expect to see the aforementioned woman slumped over the kitchen table, her body shaking with vigorous but controlled sobs; she didn’t want to wake her master. ‘Oh, Barriss…’ Luminara wavered at the sight alone, feeling that Barriss’s force shields were shattered and in pieces. Luminara wasted no time to come to Barriss’s aide, a motherly arm draped around Barriss’s sunken form. They both sat at the table, but Barriss did not jump at the sudden contact, she only remained silently sobbing into her arm. It pained Luminara so much whenever she’d see or hear Barriss break down, she was practically her own daughter, someone she considered close enough to call blood. Every single time it chipped and broke away at Luminara’s heart, even if Barriss was crying over something simple (like that flustered confrontation with Ahsoka last week). Luminara ran a reassuring hand through Barriss’s unkempt hair, hushing her softly, gently, “Shh, I’m here, love, it’s alright,” Luminara whispered like a mantra, nothing but pure sincerity in her voice, even if she herself felt like breaking at the sight, “I’m not going anywhere,” She continued, her voice barely above a whisper as not to startle her padawan.
Perhaps a minute passed or maybe even five before Barriss came to be, Luminara couldn’t tell, for it did not matter; she’d spend the whole week comforting Barriss if she had to. The almost silent sobs turned into sniffles and her breathing soon regulated afterwards, which brought relief to the older woman. The stillness was a comfortable one, with Barriss now cradled in her arms, her head resting against Luminara’s chest. Though her eyes were closed, Luminara could sense the pain within Barriss, which made her wonder what had caused this in the first place. She would not pry, not unless Barriss was ready to share. She would never ask that of her daughter. The silence ended with a clearing of a throat and the rustle of clothes, with Barriss sat up properly, eyes darting away from Luminara’s.
“I didn’t think you would be awake,” the younger Mirialan spoke, her voice all too subdued, “Why are you awake?”
Luminara could only feel her core sink at the coarseness of her words, suggesting that she had been in that state a while, but she would not keep Barriss waiting, nor would she lie to her, “I could not sleep, my mind seemed to wander…”
Barriss shifted awkwardly, her eyes still glued to her feet, “I see,” she mumbled. For that moment, Barriss seemed quite uncomfortable, restless even, with her shaky fingers fidgeting with her nails, picking at them idly. Luminara had recalled the times Barriss would do that in her youth, a habit long outgrown and yet it seemed to return; she couldn’t blame her, of course she couldn’t, not when one serves on the front lines as a healer. How much death had Barriss seen at her age? While Luminara’s childhood was far from ordinary, warfare and death were not concepts she was familiar with. It wasn’t the same when an old Jedi master passed away from age, they simply returned themselves to the Cosmic Force, it was far different to murder and bloodshed — and that is all that truly came of the war. Luminara had grown to understand it, if only a little, and came to the realization that while watching your family get picked apart clean by Separatists, it never compared to the grim experience of holding someone in your arms while they choke out their last words in their final moments. Barriss, as a healer, has lived through that experience far more times than Luminara and yet her valiance persisted above all. Barriss was so strong, possibly the strongest person Luminara knew. She was so much more than she gave herself credit for… and all Luminara wanted was for Barriss to realise her worth.
It took Barriss’s voice to break Luminara of her thoughts, “Will you be staying up..?”
Luminara nodded without hesitation and rose to her feet, “Yes, I certainly see no point in trying to sleep now,” she commented with a small smile as she approached their tiny kitchenette, “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Luminara boiled the kettle and prepared the drinks for the two of them, settling on an elderflower brew, the one that Barriss picked out from the herb market on last month’s trip to Glee Anselm. She recalled Barriss’s expression when she first tried it and the way her eyes lit up in sheer joy, it reminded her of simpler times, like days when they would fly off to some Outer Rim planet and eat out, or when Luminara would gift her padawan with an intricately made garb created from fibres and silky materials straight from rural Mirial. Now these days she hardly found the time to sew, nevermind bond with her. She chided herself for it, for not finding some loophole she could use to strengthen her bond with Barriss, to be able to have her by her side on perilous missions where Gree filled her boots. That is not to say that Luminara preferred it if Barriss took Gree’s place, she respected Gree and treated him like one of her own, just as she did with every single member of the 41st. But Barriss… she was different. Her combat and field expertise were stellar and steadily improving with each passing rotation, but what Luminara would give to see her live a normal life and be happy. Even still, no one fought as brilliantly by her side other than Barriss. Not Obi-Wan, though the missions with him were always a blast, and not Shaak, even if they did fight alongside each other in the horror that was Geonosis. It was always Barriss. So much so that even some cheekier members of the Order began to call them the ‘Twins of the Order’ as their movements were fluid and in tune with one another, achieving complete synchronicity and balance. To think that Barriss used to be so eager to learn how to tandem fight and now fighting is the last thing on her mind. The early days of Barriss’s padawanship were the best, Luminara mused as she stirred the drinks, the times when Barriss was enthusiastic, if maybe a little naive. When she glanced over at her padawan, she felt warm knowing that deep inside remained the ever-curious and bright-eyed youngling she had ‘adopted’ straight off of the bat. The moment their eyes connected for the first time, Luminara had this inner revelation that called to her, as though the Force had arranged their meeting in the crèche. It did often have a strange way of working things out. As Luminara finished preparing the beverages, her mind dwelled on one particular conversation she had with Master Billaba some time ago.
“In that moment, he told me he felt like he knew the person I was, he felt bonded just through meeting me despite my state,” Depa smiled over the rim of her mug, “Perhaps that is what you experienced with young Offee.”
“Perhaps. I suppose up until now I hadn’t given it much thought. She is like a daughter to me.”
“As is Caleb a son to me. When the Force wants something to be, it will be.”
“Yet you reciprocated that connection? Even within a bacta tank?” Luminara asked.
Depa nodded, “Strange, isn’t it? As to how you felt your bond with Barriss when she was simply an infant. Do you still feel what you felt those many years ago?”
“Of course,” Luminara replied without missing a beat.
Depa simply smiled and sipped at her tea, the silence comfortable.
“I couldn’t ask for a better padawan,” Luminara added after a moment, to which earned her a humble chuckle from her fellow Jedi.
“And I am certain she would never wish to replace her master,” Depa took a second before carrying on, “Do you remember what it was like to be a padawan? To have heaps of pressure placed onto you?”
This time, Luminara chuckled with mirth, “How could I not? Weeks of studying and learning countless mannerisms were no easy tasks. It seems like a fever dream now if I am to be truthful.”
“Precisely. It may be years, perhaps even decades ago for us, but for a padawan now, times are harder. They sometimes forget their self-worth,” Depa’s expression changed from amused to mournful in a split second as she went on, “I often have to remind Caleb that he is doing fine and that his hard work does amount to something, that he is making a difference by simply existing. I am not sure how he would get on if not for me. To be a master is to be responsible for another being entirely… it’s hard.”
“But it is harder to be that being, to be the padawan. I feel like Barriss does more looking out for me than I do for her. It’s silly, really, but that is what makes it worth it. Makes all of this worth it, the war and the hardships of becoming what and who you are and who you and your padawan will be decades from now,” Luminara muttered, her fingers tightening around her mug, her heart aching for something else. She wished she knew what that something else was. Depa had nothing to say to that, it seemed, as she sat with another kind of silence hanging over them. The war wasn’t getting easier and sometimes it was hard to think about the ‘down the line’ or ‘a few years from now’. Luminara had once overheard a conversation between Barriss and Ahsoka that highlighted that issue, that Barriss had her concerns about whether or not they would make it through the coming years and Ahsoka picking her up and reaffirming to her that all things come to an end, even war. Not like she knew, not like any of them did.
Depa’s long and drawn out sigh was what disturbed the unsettling silence that stirred in Luminara’s stomach. “Well, who else will be there for them if not us? Who else would be there for us if not for them?” She began to smile at her own words, “We are lucky to be blessed by such wonderful beings and even more so to be able to teach them and help them grow.”
Luminara agreed wholeheartedly, her mood perking up if not a little bit, “Indeed, they are truly luminous. If only they would see that for themselves.”
“Yes, if only.”
A moment passed or maybe two, before Luminara smiled back and stood up, “You have given me much to think over.”
Depa matched her motions.
“Take care, old friend, I may not see you for some time,” Luminara continued, hinting at that op that Mace had been talking about a few days ago. Depa seemed to understand as she closed the space between them with a warm and firm hug.
“And you too, may the force be with you, Luminara.”
“May the force be with you.”
Luminara set the fine china down in front of Barriss with a quiet clink and joined her side with a supportive hand on the small of her back. She watched as Barriss’s nostrils flared in curiosity at the fragrance coming from the little steaming cup and then her eyes lit up in quiet surprise, in instant recollection.
“This is…” Barriss trailed off, a subtle smile on her face. So subtle that perhaps no one else would have picked it up, no one else except Luminara.
“Yes, I seem to recall how much you enjoyed the first time. It is always time for elderflower I would say,” Luminara joked, her tone light but her words hushed. Barriss seemed to have taken the joke well because she glanced down and smirked, as she did whenever Luminara would lighten the mood with the odd joke, of course she never went overkill like Obi-Wan. Not to say she didn’t like his jokes but they certainly were not her taste and perhaps just a touch too many. She loved him, nonetheless. Barriss never complained.
“It cannot beat the homebrew,” Barriss commented, taking the cup into her tattooed hands with a grace untold, “Nothing can come close to a classic Mirialan tea.”
Luminara looked on at her padawan and gave a challenging smirk back, “Perhaps, perhaps not. Is it fair to compare the two when they have such different flavours? Why not thoroughly enjoy both and call them your favourites?”
Barriss took a sip and placed her cup down, her bloodshot eyes now locked with Luminara’s, “It is simply impossible, you can’t have two favourites. Besides, the Mirialan brew is a taste of home.”
“Who said that you cannot have two favourites? Was it Master Vos? Master Yoda?” Luminara bantered back, enjoying the moment for what it was.
“I thought it was common sense is all,” Barriss replied with a hint of embarrassment, “to call something your favourite is to declare that nothing is at that level of greatness. It is a superlative within itself, so how can one have two favourites if a favourite is above all?”
Luminara hummed in thought; Barriss had certainly got her cogs whirring. It was time for a Wise Jedi Response, she decided. “Well in life, you must find beauty in all things if you are to truly bond with the Force. And that also means accepting everything for what it is, not what it could be. You will, in time, find things that are not to your taste and others that are, and the only way to find that out is to experience them. You can dislike and love something at the same time and perhaps that is what leads to favourites.”
Barriss snorted with laughter and shook her head, “How did all of that stem from tea flavours?” She managed to get out between her laughter, her face lighting up in joy.
“You see, Barriss, how does anything stem from anything if not from the roots?” Luminara added, knowing full well that she was being a little nonsensical, only to cheer up her only padawan.
“I suppose tea comes from roots…” Barriss remarked, having another sip and with a pause, she continued, “it is true what you say though. You must experience life and things in it before you can have an opinion on it. If we judged everything from face value, what kind of people would that make us?”
Luminara nodded, a warm swirl of pride darting about in her gut, “Judgement is not the Jedi way after all.”
Barriss silently agreed through their Force bond and got back to her tea, nothing more to say on this.
Luminara decided to finally have at her own drink, having almost forgotten that she prepared herself a cup too. She was far too concerned with helping Barriss ease up and take a load off. When she drank her own, Luminara’s worries seemingly drifted away into the steam of her tea, the flavour ruling her senses. The elderflower was better than the homebrew by a landslide, but she would never tell Barriss that, she wouldn’t live it down.
They stayed like that for a bit, sat close together, enjoying one another’s company for it was peaceful. But Luminara knew it could not stay that way forever as she felt Barriss’s mood dip through waves in the Force. When Luminara glanced in Barriss’s direction, she caught her looking down into her empty cup with a distance she couldn’t quite pin. It was time to talk, properly.
“Barriss, love, would you like to talk about it?”
Barriss shakily sighed and pushed her cup away from her, eyes averting. “I suppose,” was the almost silent, mousy response Luminara received.
“What troubles you?” Luminara asked, giving Barriss’s side a gentle squeeze of encouragement and care. She would not attempt to guess what lingered on her padawan’s mind for that may bring about more pain than Barriss was already clearly going through.
It took a minute or two for Barriss to collect her thoughts. Nonetheless, Luminara remained patient.
“It’s… everything. I feel like sometimes I’m not what I could be, or what I should be. I feel as though I do not reach the standards of others or what they want for me… When I’m on the field and I’m healing, it’s different, it’s my job. But here, back at the Temple, I feel like I don’t add up if that makes sense, like I don’t do enough…” Barriss paused and sighed sharply, picking her nails again, “…or that I am enough.”
Luminara gazed with sympathy, but she would be lying if she said she was not shocked. She had no idea Barriss was feeling this way, that she had felt this way for some time. She knew the war was weighing her down, but Luminara was oblivious it was to this degree. If only, if only she knew sooner… if only they communicated more…
“I feel like no matter what I do, it means nothing in the end, people will just keep dying and all I can do is try and help them. But to what cost? It hurts,” Barriss began to tense up, “It hurts and it’s ironic because I am the healer, it shouldn’t— it shouldn’t hurt the healer. I’m meant to mend wounds, not cause them. I… I don’t matter. None of this matters,” Barriss stuttered and spluttered out her words like a viscous liquid pouring from her lips and dripping down onto the table as her tears soon joined in and her lips began to quiver.
She could not bear the sight.
“But you do matter, you matter to me!” Luminara shot back with fire, only to calm herself so she didn’t shout, “You mean the world to me, my dear . You could never mean anything less, I love you so much and you deserve so much better than to feel this way,” Luminara brought her hand up to Barriss’s hair and began to caress it lovingly, “You are allowed to hurt, you are allowed to feel, but just because you do does not make you matter any less, it does not make you weak or worthless. It makes you you. I care about you, your troubles are mine too, Barriss. When you worry, I worry; when you cry, I cry; when you laugh, I laugh. I am here for you always. We’ll get through this — together.”
Barriss shook a little with her sobs, but that didn’t stop her from throwing herself into Luminara’s embrace. And there they sat, for fleeting minutes, only the Force knew how long. After some time, Barriss had stopped crying altogether, Luminara had noticed, and her breathing had regulated, slowed; she was fast asleep. The older woman couldn’t help but smile warmly; she was definitely exhausted. Luminara moved cautiously, so as not to disturb her padawan, and swept Barriss up into her arms.
When she got to her own bedroom, Luminara ensured to tuck Barriss into bed as carefully as possible, brushing a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. Barriss had always looked so peaceful when she slept, Luminara mused. She needed this, they all needed this.
Luminara decided that going to sleep wasn’t the worst idea.
She would spend her entire day with Barriss tomorrow, no matter what.
And before Luminara drifted off into deep slumber, she sleepily pressed a kiss to Barriss’s temple.
“You will always matter to me.”
“I love you, Barriss.”
And she could’ve sworn she heard Barriss mumble the words back under her breath.