Chapter Text
Four days.
That is all it has been.
Four days on Jedha, and Matty feels ready to shed her skin if she doesn’t make it off the moon as soon as possible.
Even the warmth of the noonday sun on the back of her neck isn’t enough to pull her out of the melancholy she is inhabiting.
What she had hoped would be a morning spent wandering the streets of Jedha City – helping where she was needed and getting to know the locals – did not go to plan.
One moment, she was speaking to an elderly Cantrosian woman, the friendly old vendor fielding all Matty’s varied and excitable questions about the selection of fruit she was selling. Then, Matty felt the rotting carcass of a poba gourd strike the back of her head.
For a moment, she stood exceptionally still. She watched as the vendor’s face slipped from an open expression of horror, quickly morphing into anger. She looked beyond Matty at the crowd the padawan heard jeering behind her head before returning her gaze to Matty’s own – her expression finally settling into pity. Pity for the poor and hapless padawan, the young girl who had strolled into the square alight in the unmistakable shine of someone who has yet to experience just how cruel the galaxy can be.
Matty had steeled herself, turned to find a tall human man stood at the head of a group of angry onlookers, staring her down while shouting directly at her, “Leave this city, Jedi! Your kind will police Jedha no longer!”
A thousand responses had formed and died on her tongue in that moment. She had wanted to defend herself and defend the order; talk about their mission to represent the will of the force and to serve the people of Jedha through their service to the force. She wanted to crack a joke, which she has found to be an inimitable means of dissipating tense situations such as this. Every word took on the hint of life just behind her sealed lips and trembling chin. They each ultimately fizzled away into nothing, retreating along with her courage and resolve.
The jeering voices continued to echo as she fled.
A small songbird humming nearby draws her back into the present moment. She’s been here all morning, surrounded by the lush beauty of the pleasure gardens that stretch out in all directions from their center point, a giant stone monolith sat in the center of a reflective pool made from gyyanth gems mined on Tython.
It was almost accidental, her finding this place. In her haste to return to the Convocation chambers and to her master, she’d led herself to the only other place on this forsaken moon that could possibly be a comfort to her.
It was through the haze of lingering tears that she’d read the plaque engraved at the foot of the monolith. Then she’d laughed, though to herself or at herself she isn’t sure.
Fitting.
Fitting to wind up here, considering it was merely days ago that she and her master, Leebon, had made their departure from the temple on Tython, a tearful and sullen affair, at least in Matty’s case.
Leebon had tried to assure Matty that the council’s request of her to fill Master Gurran Rotha’s recently vacated spot within the ranks of the Convocation of the Force would provide as many new and exciting opportunities for her young padawan as it would for herself. While the two had undertaken various missions for the order and traveled to many diverse places in those assignments, the Selonian was convinced that a more permanent reassignment would truly test their mettle as a duo; was sure it would be a firm foundation upon which they can grow as master and apprentice.
Matty could only see it for all it was taking from her. She had been at the Tython temple from the age of seven. It was there that Leebon took her on as an apprentice. It was there that she constructed her lightsaber. It was there that she had been forced to leave behind all her friends, standing at the landing bay about to board a ragged shuttle to the Western Reaches with a shadow cast over her heart, finding herself feeling like the young byydrian swallows outside the temple, tossed from their nests to either learn to fly or perish on the exposed roots below.
So, she’d flown - flown on her bruised and battered wings to the new future awaiting her on the Pilgrim Moon.
She was met with cold and tenuous alliances and a city that despised the Jedi and their presence in the galaxy.
A very persistent and pointedly non-Jedi voice had been a constant whisper in the back of her mind those first few arduous days. It told her to resent Master Leebon for forcing her to this frozen dust ball and to hide herself away from Jedha City and its inhabitants as they didn’t want her there to begin with. Today was her attempt to combat some of those feelings, and it had been a spectacular disaster. Perhaps it’s me and not Jedha that’s the problem, she thinks to herself, dipping the small wool cloth in her hands back into the reflective pool in front of her before once again scrubbing at the rotting gourd chunks on her lekku.
She senses Master Leebon’s approach in the force before the sound of soft footfalls echo on the stone pathway at her back and decides to look resolutely forward. The admonishment can never come if Matty doesn’t acknowledge that she is no longer alone at the monument. A soft voice in her mind tells her that this is an entirely unfair assessment of what is to come. Leebon isn’t cruel. It’s not in her nature. She can sometimes be aloof and distant, but she is always kind.
The elderly Selonian sits down at Matty’s left. At first, she doesn’t say a word, just reaches over and takes the cloth from Matty’s hand, resuming scrubbing at the padawan’s lekku.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Matty knows she sounds petulant, but she’d also rather jump in a pile of happabore dung than face this conversation.
Leebon stays silent, dipping the cloth in the pool before them, ringing it out, and continuing her ministrations. Matty watches some small species of sparrow fly overhead, takes in the sunlight glistening in the reflective pool, listens to a small band of wind instruments beyond the pleasure gardens’ south wall kick up in a merry tune.
Then, she curses her incessant need to chatter and begins to speak.
“I know that I could have handled myself better. Those hecklers may have been misguided, and they had no right to assault me, but I can’t say in good conscience that their feelings aren’t valid. Even I thought the Convocation chambers looked daunting when I first got here. I can’t imagine what the rest of the citizens of Jedha City feel when they look at it.”
Leebon hums, places the cloth at her side, and then sits upon the small stone ledge at the edge of the reflective pool, looking down at Matty with a soft smile, prompting her to continue.
“I overheard Representative T’Dara mention that Master Ratha had never traveled the streets of the city unless it was to quell conflicts or detain pickpockets and thieves. No wonder the people see us as an unwelcome entity.”
Matty shifts, pulling herself up to sit alongside her master. It’s then that she notices the tears rolling down her cheeks, opening her mouth to let out in a soft breath, “I’m also missing Tython.”
Leebon inhales deeply, letting it out in a slow exhale that Matty subconsciously finds herself copying.
Her Master reaches out then, taking her hand with a gentle squeeze as she speaks, “It may not seem like it now, but this experience will shape you in its own way.”
Matty knows this to be true. Her word vomit just now revealed as much. Being resentful of Jedha and its people is the easy alternative to what Matty knows comes next. That being she and Leebon working to heal some of the fractured trust on the moon and serving its people in a way that is a testament to themselves and the Jedi Order.
“Of course,” she begins, taking comfort in her hand within Leebon’s and the continued music from the wind ensemble nearby, “there are always lessons in the force, even when we don’t recognize them at the time.”
Leebon laughs at that, and Matty turns to find a smile on her master’s face.
It is a small and wistful thing, adorned with equal parts mischief and wisdom. She says, “Yes, the force, and all that other wonderful Jedi gibberish.”
Then, it is Matty’s turn to laugh.
Leebon still smiles and continues, “I am referring to the men you encountered earlier, your friends and me, and every other soul that will cross paths with you throughout your life.”
As Leebon speaks, her eyes slip shut, prompting Matty to follow her master’s lead once again.
“The force is immovable. It just is. We as servants of the force do our best to honor its bidding.”
Leebon pauses for a beat, long enough for Matty to notice a small dragonfly buzz nearby, passing close enough that it tickles her nose. She quiets the accompanying chuckle as Leebon continues, “Our relationships and our interactions and our experiences aren’t quite so daunting. They shape us, as I said, but only to the extent that we let them.”
Leebon reaches over with her other hand, cupping Matty’s cheek and turning her head so they are looking at one another.
“You miss your friends. You are unsure of your purpose here on Jedha. You are hurt by what happened to you earlier today. These are natural things to feel, Matthea. But all that power is now in your hands. How are you going to allow these experiences to shape who you become?”
Matty thinks on this for a moment.
Leebon watches the thoughts turn and tumble in her padawan’s head before she reaches forward and grabs a small pink orchid, plucking it from its bush.
She holds the small flower in front of them both as she says, “I will give the force credit, it led you here, exactly where you need to be to receive this lesson. The monument and these gardens are a tribute to Tython, yes, but this sun orchid…” she spins the stem of the orchid slowly between her index finger and thumb, “it is more than it appears.”
“When I was your age, my master and I visited Tython’s moon, Ashla. Naturally, I was young and excited to set out on an assignment for the Order. We were tasked with locating a group of force adepts of the Sunra Veil. Their ship had gone aground on a small archipelago during a storm, and many of them had been injured and separated from one another.”
Matty watches the orchid spin in Leebon’s fingers for a moment. The blur of pink petals spinning combined with Leebon’s soft voice help to chase away what remains of the echoing jeers and taunts she’d been certain would never leave her. She turns to her master once again and can almost see the older woman’s mind travel back to that time and place long ago.
“Master Iyuna and I located the son of the Veil’s leader and the group he had managed to find shelter with. He told us that his father and a few others had still not arrived at their makeshift campsite, so Master Iyuna got to work on healing those who were injured and left me with the task of locating those who were missing. Needless to say, I was both excited and more nervous than ever before.”
Matty hangs onto every word. She can’t recall a time before this when Leebon has spoken of her early career as a Jedi. It’s fascinating to imagine the life the woman had lived before becoming a master. It’s also a relief, knowing that this seemingly unflappable woman had once been a padawan also feeling out of her depth.
Leebon stays quiet a beat, spinning the orchid in her fingers and humming along to the wind ensemble, before continuing in a voice so quiet, Matty has to strain to hear, “It proved harder than I could ever imagine. The terrain was rough. I was overconfident,” she looks into the middle distance as she says all this, and Matty is certain she is seeing apparitions of that experience years ago, “I pushed myself too hard and ended up injuring myself on a stone ridge on the island’s windward side. Another storm was almost on top of me when I finally found the rest of the group.”
It’s funny, but Matty feels a deep sorrow for her master, or at least the young girl, injured and afraid and up against impossible odds, that she had been.
When Leebon lulls into another silence, Matty gently prods her into speaking again.
“What did you do next?”
Leebon turns to her, cracks a small smile, and then laughs – a deep and hearty thing that Matty can’t help but echo.
“I made an absolute ass of myself. I walked right up to Varna Daa, the leader of the Veil, crying my eyes out and telling him he’d have been better off on his own.”
It’s an impossible sight to conjure. Not because Leebon is overly stoic, Matty knows she is blessed with a master who is an endless well-spring of compassion. But, imagining the woman betraying emotions such as shame or guilt, and so openly? She’d thought her hasty retreat from the square this morning had been the most un-Jedi-like display in the history of ever, and here Leebon is, laying bare this deeply personal memory.
“That doesn’t seem like such an irrational response, given the circumstances.”
Leebon chuckles, her eyes no longer holding those same ghosts from a moment ago, “If you had told me that in the moment, I’d probably have launched myself into the sea in front of you.”
Her eyes stay set on the sun orchid, and maybe it’s Leebon’s expression or the way she cradles it like a treasure or could be a sign from the force itself, but Matty knows that the flower is not just a flower. It’s a lesson she will have learned by the time she and her master vacate the pleasure gardens and set back out into the challenges that Jedha City has in store for them.
“Daa took it all in stride. He pulled me aside and allowed me to collect myself away from the other stranded adepts that were with him. Then, he plucked one of these sun orchids from its stem and placed it in his palm.”
As she says this, Leebon moves the orchid in her hand to her open palm as well, its delicate pink petals catching every hint of sunlight.
“He asked me to grab an orchid for myself and place it in my own palm. Then, he told me to speak to it. Tell it every doubt and reservation and fear I was feeling in the moment.”
Leebon brings the flower to her lips then, speaking softly enough that Matty knows the words aren’t meant for her. It's almost poetic, watching as Leebon gives voice to all that weighs on her mind, her body letting go of that tension in the process.
Once finished, Leebon turns directly to Matty, their eyes holding in a silent dance.
“Then he told me to crush it,” and Leebon does just that, squeezing her hand into a fist, before holding it toward the sky, “and let it go.”
When her hands open, only fine particulates are left. They catch on the wind and then are gone. Matty doesn’t speak, scarcely breathes as she watches them disappear in the noon sky.
Leebon takes Matty’s hand once again, turning it over so that her open palm is facing the sky as she continues, “Vaa told me that the sun orchids are messengers for the Great Light, which is how he and his followers saw the force,” another orchid is plucked from the ground and placed gently into Matty’s palm this time.
“I don’t know if that is true,” gently, Leebon lifts Matty’s hand, orchid and all, to her lips, “but I know that in that moment, it was the most comforted and seen I had ever felt.”
Leebon stays silent again, waits for Matty to turn to her, gives her a soft smile full of knowing and pride and love, and speaks once more, “Feel all that you have to feel, Matthea. Speak all of what you feel to that beautiful orchid. Crash and fall and crumble if you have to.”
Matty presses her eyes shut tight, thinks of all that she has experienced in just a few short days: all the sadness and pain and hurt and hope.
“And then you let it go and know that I will be right here for every new challenge and setback and triumph that comes your way.”
All of it, every emotion, is whispered into the delicate pink petals, crushed in Matty’s palm, and then given back to the force.
When she turns, the dam having burst and tears streaming down her face, she finds Leebon’s open arms waiting for her.