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The silence was almost deafening as Larel sat on her meditation cushion in the apartment that served as her and her master’s quarters in the Jedi Temple. The only sound was the occasional whoosh of the ventilation systems as the sky darkened outside the massive window. She had come to love her spot by the window. She could just barely make out the top of the Senate Complex on a clear night, but at the moment, she merely stared at the blue wall.
She had been released from the Halls of Healing three days before- the same day she had learned what had happened. Her master had been killed by an assassin and she hadn’t even been there to help him. A lot wasn’t adding up, but she suspected the lack of sleep was catching up to her. How could she sleep with that weighing on her mind? How could she sleep when all she saw were memories of her ordeal or the look on Cody’s face when she had brought the news of Master Obi-wan’s assassination?
She had spent that first night in the common room of the 212th barracks, unable to sleep, but unable to bring herself to be alone either. Ahsoka had been so busy with Anakin that Larel hadn’t seen her since the funeral. A few of Master Obi-wan’s old friends had come by the day before to check in on her, trying to cheer her up, but it had been quiet most of the day-- thankfully. She was still healing, not yet cleared to be in the field. The 212th had been preparing to deploy again, but she was Temple bound.
A soft sigh escaped her as she glanced at her neglected cup of tea on the nearby caf table. She stood and went into the kitchen, pouring out the cold tea then leaning back against the counter. What was going to happen now? Her master was… gone…
You lied to me, Master, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. You said you’d be back right after your Council Meeting...
She gripped the cup in her hand so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter in her hands. She nearly dropped it, startled when someone rang the door chime. She quickly set the cup on the counter and smoothed her wrinkled robes and her hair, her hand pausing at the scarred, bald patch where her padawan braid had once been.
“I… um come in!” she called.
The door slid open to reveal Healer Bant Eerin, a Mon Calamari Jedi who worked in the Halls of Healing. Larel had met her more than once over the years and she knew she had been Master Obi-wan’s friend since they were both younglings in the creche.
“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, kindly, moving closer to Larel. “Are you healing up all right? Taking your medication?”
Larel looked at the bottles on the kitchen counter. Pain medication if her injuries flared up, sleeping pills to help her sleep despite the nightmares. Most of the bottles were untouched. Still she nodded to the healer.
“Yes,” she replied. “I take them as needed, like Healer Che instructed.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, her eyes lingering on the unopened bottle of sleeping pills before looking back at the young redhead.
“I’m... “ she began. Was she? “I’ll be fine…” she finished. “Healer Che said most of my injuries were pretty superficial,” she added with a forced smile. “Honestly I think her holding back my field clearance is a bit overkill for these…”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” the Mon Cala replied with a saddened frown. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re coping all right… Obi-wan was a dear friend… He was there for me when I lost my own Master, Tahl...”
Larel could pick up on the unspoken obligation the healer seemed to feel. To try to help her through this as Obi-wan had once helped her. She breathed slowly, busying herself cleaning her teacup in the sink.
“I’m coping fine... I’m doing my best to sleep, I’m doing my best to keep up with my studies, I’m working up to meditating again,” she listed off calmly, her scrubbing at the already clean cup becoming a bit more urgent in spite of her calm exterior. “I’m taking my medications when I feel I need to.”
The healer seemed to pick up on the unspoken dismissal of her concerns and sighed, moving back toward the door and pausing, looking back at the padawan who was putting all her self discipline into holding herself together.
“If you need anything, just comm and I’ll be here,” she assured before stepping out, leaving Larel alone once more.
Larel settled herself on the couch, her fingers ghosting over a book her master had left on the side table. The smallest traces of his Force presence remained. That soothing, warm light that he was within the Force- ever bright and calm. For a second it was as if she could feel him through their bond yet as quickly as she had felt it, it was gone leaving just a blank wall where their bond had once been.
She closed her eyes and sighed feeling another presence outside the door. Of course she couldn’t have a moment’s peace… The knock came and she sighed softly, standing and walking to the door, opening it to reveal Barriss Offee who was holding a container from the refectory, seeming unsure how to set her facial expression and settling with a calm, half-smile.
“I thought you might like something to eat,” she said. “And Master Luminara said it would be a good idea for me to keep you company for a while,” she added.
Larel sighed quietly and let her in, not wanting to be rude. So her master told her to come… She nodded toward the small kitchen table and moved toward the kitchen.
“Tea?” Larel offered, hoping to give herself something to do and hoping to distract Barriss as her fellow padawan seemed to be looking over the shelf that held some of her master’s old things.
“Oh please let me,” Barriss said with that dutiful tone she always took when trying to be helpful.
Before Larel knew it, Barriss was in the kitchen setting the kettle and pulling down the teapot and clean cups. She reached up, pulling down the Sapir tea, but Larel frowned and shook her head.
“Not that one. Red leaf or black tea,” she burst out and paused, not meaning to snap like that. “I um… I just am not in the mood for that one.”
Sapir tea was her favorite and Master Obi-wan’s favorite, one she always made sure they had. If either of them was feeling upset or unwell, they made it for the other. At the moment even the thought of having it especially made by anyone else was just unacceptable.
“It’s your favorite though,” Barriss said and looked at her friend, seeing how on the verge of tears she was and nodded. She pulled down the black tea instead and began brewing the pot of tea for them, looking over at where she had set Larel’s food on the table. “Go on. Eat.”
Larel chewed her lower lip and sat at the table, looking down at the food in front of her. It was a simple pasta with an herby sauce and chicken. She forced down a few bites and Barriss nodded in approval, bringing the teapot and cups over, pouring for Larel and then herself. The pair sat in silence, Larel sipping her tea, Barriss staring at hers before the Mirialan girl spoke up.
“Have you thought about cleaning his things out of here yet?” she asked, her gaze traveling to the shelves that held Master Obi-wan’s few things that he didn’t keep in his room, then pausing on the shut door on the other side of the living area.
Larel’s hand clenched around her teacup and she put it down, a little harder than she had intended to. The sound seemed to echo in the sudden silence.
“Look… Barriss… Some things I just have to handle in my own time,” she murmured. “And I don’t feel right doing it yet… I know they’re only things. I know I should do it, but I just can’t right now.”
“I’m sure Master Kenobi’s friends would happily help you and so would I and so would Ahsoka and Master Skywalker,” she said with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “You have to let go of him, Larel…”
Larel shook her head. She just didn’t understand… Or didn’t want to. I know this… I know all of this! How many times have I heard this the past three years? Oh right. More than I can count… She clenched her jaw, putting a bite of food into her mouth, taking her time chewing and swallowing to compose herself.
“Thank you for your concern and your offer, Barriss,” she replied, her voice trembling against her will. “I want to finish regaining my strength before I handle everything.”
She let her head fall onto her hand, propping it up. She was tired… Tired of everyone thinking they knew better than her how she needed to handle this. Barriss bit her lower lip for a moment and finished her tea before she stood.
“Very well... I suppose I’ll let you get your rest then…” she said. “Please don’t be a stranger. If you like you could join Master Luminara and I in the fountain room for meditation in the morning. It would do you some good to get out of your quarters.”
“Thank you,” she forced out, standing and walking Barriss to the door.
It was quiet again as Larel returned to the table, putting the remainder of her food in the conservator, not feeling up for eating much more at this point. She set to work cleaning the teapot and cups, handling each with care. Her master had loved this set…It was older than she was. The green-glazed ceramic was painted with playful tooka cats wrestling and chasing one another. She put away the clean set and returned to the sofa, sinking down on it.
You lied to me, Master… You promised to see me through to knighthood... A silent tear tried to escape, but she wiped it away quickly when another knock came to the door. She stood trying to steel herself for more exhausting interactions. She flicked her hand and the door opened and she didn’t even turn, but she could sense the warm, kind presence behind her. The ever present source of advice and wisdom. Master Plo was there.
“Don’t…” she said before he could speak. “Just don’t start. I don’t want to be cheered up. I don’t need to be told how to look after myself nor do I want someone trying to do it for me. I don’t need to be reminded that as a Jedi I have to let go of him. That I shouldn’t be so distraught at his loss. I know that I can’t give in to my grief and I know he’d be disappointed in how I’m handling this. So please just leave me alone! You have no reason to be here!”
Her voice had cracked more than once as she lashed out verbally at the old Jedi Master, but there was no rebuttal, no lecture about letting her emotions get the better of her. It was silent for some time until Larel turned to look at the Kel Dor master, his brow low with sadness as he looked straight at her.
“I do have a reason to be here,” his gentle voice rumbled.
The padawan felt her knees give under her and she landed on them on the soft carpet, tears slipping free as she lost every bit of the tightly reigned control she had maintained since she got the news. She tried to take slow breaths to calm herself, but each breath turned into a shaking sob. Before she realized it, she was pulled into a comforting embrace, a cool, earthy scent enveloping her as she buried her face in Master Plo’s robes.
He lifted her and carried her to the sofa. Claws combed gently through her hair while his other hand rubbed slow circles on her back. There was nothing but understanding there. No advice, not pity, no unwanted jokes in an attempt to cheer her up.
“He promised he wasn’t going anywhere,” she managed to sob out. “He promised…”