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His body aches .
So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and he carries both mental and physical pain as proof. It makes sleeping less than ideal — though they’d won, though they’d discovered Tanalorr, so much continues to plague him. The hum of the Mantis’ engines do little to lull him to sleep, and the turbulence jerks him back from the abyss, a cold sweat sending chills down his spine. In a haste, he throws his legs over the edge of his bunk, feet planted firmly on the ground, and grips the fabric of his shirt. He pulls it over his head and drops the sweat-soaked garment to the ground before dragging a hand down his face, a shiver tearing through his body. With every blink, he sees himself enveloped by the darkness, akin to a mother’s warm embrace. A fire burns beneath his feet, the flames growing larger and licking at his skin as Cere’s face flashes before him, the weight of her lifeless body still heavy in his hands. He sees Master Cordova fall to the ground, smoke escaping the fresh blaster holes in his chest. He feels the burning of Dagan Gera’s blade as it slices across his chest, eyes the wicked grin on his face as he watches the Jedi writhe in pain. He sees the fear in Kata’s eyes as her father squeezes the life out of Merrin through the Force, hears the strangulated cries from the Nightsister, watches her claw at the invisible hands wrapped around her neck.
He cannot move, cannot escape the flames as they burn brighter, threatening to engulf him.
“Cal.”
The flames extinguish. A light shines in the darkness. The memories that plague him fade, and only his mentor remains. She mouths something—the word go , he thinks—and Cal opens his eyes. In the doorway is Merrin, reaching out to cup his scarred cheek. He leans into her touch.
“I sensed that something was wrong,” she murmurs. “Are you alright?”
“I am now,” Cal utters, his voice barely above a whisper. His throat feels dry. His body continues to ache. “Sorry I worried you.”
Admittedly, it’s nice to have Merrin watching out for him. She’d witnessed how close he had come to teetering over the edge on Nova Garon, and it had been her who had pulled him back. She’d saved him, his light in the darkness. That same light that Bode knew to use against him. He recoils.
Merrin, however, does not take offense. She instead takes a seat beside him. “I will always worry about you, Cal Kestis, just as you will me. That is the price we pay when we care for someone.”
That was why the Jedi forbade emotional attachments, Cal concluded. He would do anything to keep Merrin safe, to not lose her as he had lost Master Tapal, his crew, Cordova, Cere… It was as Merrin said—that is the price one pays when they care for someone, but he wouldn’t change what they have, wouldn’t fight it any longer. While it can turn people to the darkest depths, as it had Bode, love was a beautiful thing, capable of keeping one centered on the path that was life. Without Merrin, Cal would be lost, destroying the Imperial Security Bureau, murdering the man who had given Bode his orders in cold blood. Without Merrin, Bode would be unreachable, untouchable, and Tanalorr would be but a tale told to children to instill hope. Without Merrin, Cal would have lost himself to the darkness, never to reach the light again.
“Lie down.”
Torn from his thoughts, Cal blinks. He turns his attention on the Nightsister beside him, mouth slightly agape. “Huh?” he squeaks.
She repeats. “Lie down.”
“But I don’t even have a shirt—
“A shirt does not matter,” she waves her hand. “Now, lie down, Jedi, before I force you to.”
Cal does as he is told, carefully maneuvering his legs around her, lying back in his bunk, sheets still cold with his sweat. A lump forms in his throat, impossible to swallow, and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He watches Merrin follow his lead, lifting her legs to rest between his, draping her body atop his. Her head is tucked beneath his chin, her arms wrapped around his solid frame, and he can feel his skin set ablaze once more. He flushes.
“Your heart is racing,” she comments. “Is this not okay?”
Her breath is hot against his chilled skin, a heat that penetrates the scar over his breastbone and warms his racing heart. He swallows the lump in his throat. “No, no! It’s—you’re—this… It’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s…” He pauses, curling and uncurling his fingers, hands hovering above her body. Deep breaths, Cal. Deep breaths. “It’s wonderful .”
“Indeed. But it would be more wonderful if your hands didn’t hover.”
“Right. Sorry.”
His arms wrap tentatively around her, as if afraid of hurting her. It’s silly, he knows, having held her in his arms multiple times before, but this was a new type of intimacy. The weight of the Nightsister atop him is welcoming, the warmth emanating from her body all he needs to feel safe in his bunk. He breathes in her scent, filling his lungs with nothing but her, his Nightsister, the unforeseen light in the dark, the one who consumes his waking thoughts, the one whose lips he yearns to taste again and again and again.
“I’m terrified,” he murmurs, fingertips ghosting up and down the length of Merrin’s spine.
“Of this?” she teases.
He shakes his head, though a smile tugs at his lips. “A little, but more so of the future.”
“We cannot know what the future holds.”
“I know, but I don’t think I can handle losing you.”
Her arms unwrap from around him, hands firmly planted on the mattress beneath them, pushing herself up enough to look him in the eye. The lump in his throat reforms—she’s beautiful .
“You will not lose me, Cal Kestis, nor will you lose yourself. That I promise you.”
Her lips capture his, soft and slow, her soul pouring into his. It’s something special whenever they kiss—Cal had heard the cliches of love during his adventures, listened to stories shared with him by older couples reminiscing on their youth, but, as a Jedi, he’d never fully believed when an older gentleman proclaimed love to be the greatest feeling an individual could experience. Love brought about weakness, and weakness brought about the Dark side—what could possibly be so special?
With Merrin, he understands. He understands the songs that sing the praises of a lover, the poems penned by the greats, the novels written to tug at a reader’s heartstrings.
His hand finds its way in her hair, and Cal kisses her back with equal emotion, unafraid to let her peer into the depths of his being. His heart beats erratically in his chest, and he wonders if she can feel it through his skin.
And like that, it’s over, as quickly as those that came before. Cal wonders if she is intentionally holding back, taking her time with him, careful not to move too fast too soon.
“Get some sleep, Jedi,” she whispers, stealing one last kiss before returning to lie upon his chest. “I will still be here when you wake.”
It’s difficult to close his eyes after that, let alone regulate his breathing. He watches Merrin for awhile, moving with the rise and fall of his chest, perhaps lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart. He’s careful not to disturb her.
When he finally does close his eyes, he sleeps soundly, safe in the arms of his Nightsister.