#She’s now on meds that are supposed to help circulation to smaller parts of the body

[mossypidder]

Working on finishing up a cloak for a cosplay while Nugget was out. She thinks she needs to steal my fleece.

[oceanmastertrash]

the tides know our names- 16/?

Summary:   After losing the throne to his brother Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward. A few months after this Elara, part of an ancient order of prescient Atlanteans known as Tidewatchers, has a vision of Orm’s death. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 16/?

Word Count: 5,182

Warnings: none.

Read on Ao3

start from the beginning

Author’s Note: Alright this is the last chapter for today, this one is brand new! enjoy the binge my lovelies!

“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued.

“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”

Orm stared back at Elara, completely unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

-

According to Elara, Madren was currently running the Tidewatcher sanctuary in Guatemala. Orm would have preferred to just swim there but, also according to Elara, there were a couple obstacles to that plan. First and foremost the sanctuary was on the opposite coast of Central America than their current location in Belize. Secondly, given what Henrik had told them about the tracking method Black Manta and Dr. Shin were employing, it was in their best interest to stay on land for the time being.

Orm was apprehensive about leaving the shore entirely and fully immersing into life on the surface. The reality of tackling land travel was also something he had no experience with. Elara had some knowledge but she still had to use an internet cafe to nail down the details of their travel and acquired a cheap prepaid phone to better book their surface transportation.

She also changed out of her bloody garments so as to be less conspicuous. It did Orm better than he would like to admit to see her in her fresh clothes. Elara was not the sort to look fragile, wounded though she was, but it comforted him to see her look put back together in a sense. For her part, Elara took comfort in it, she still ached and smarted if she moved the wrong way but she felt less exposed without a literal gaping hole in her shirt.

Elara contemplated renting a car for their travels, as she did have some limited driving lessons but ultimately decided, given some of the weaving of the path, they’d be better off taking public transportation. It would be a long day and a meandering journey. Elara was certain that Orm would suffer quite a bit of frustration and annoyance from the surface dwellers but there was no way to avoid that at this point.

By now the sun was setting and they decided they would begin their journey in the morning. Elara found a motel for them. It was small and probably nowhere near the standards Orm was used to but it had two beds and he at least recognized their need for rest. Elara was exhausted and while her Atlantean healing and the meds from the clinic were helping with the pain of her injuries, she knew she needed some downtime to try to recuperate.

They stayed up a little while longer as Elara did her best to explain surface concepts like the bus system they’d be employing to get to Madren and the credit card she used for most of their purchases as well as her scant knowledge of the currencies she had. Orm thought it all more complicated than it should be but at her argument, conceded that Atlantis and all it’s kingdoms and politics would no doubt befuddle outsiders as well.

After their strenuous day, Elara fell asleep fairly quickly. Orm didn’t like the idea of them both sleeping at the same time surrounded by surface dwellers on all sides but Elara had insisted that the tides would wake her if anyone were to try anything and they should both rest while they can. Orm struggled with this idea. Letting his guard down was not anything that came easy to him, especially not considering they’d already been attacked that day by a surface dweller.

Ultimately though, fatigue won out and Orm fell asleep listening to the sound of Elara breathing. It wasn’t the most restful sleep by far but it was more than he’d expected. It was not particularly lengthy either, because before too long, they were woken by an annoying melody from the cell phone Elara had purchased. It was an alarm she’d set to ensure they would get up early enough to catch the bus. While such an alarm was useful, it was very irritating and Orm loathed it on principle.

They grabbed something to eat at a nearby cafe and then waited at the bus station. Elara had explained that the bus system they were using had many other stops on the way until it eventually stopped closer to the center of Guatemala where they would then catch a smaller bus for a short stint to the town closest to the Tidewatcher sanctuary. There weren’t as many people getting on the bus this early but Elara knew they would have a lot of contact with a lot of people by the time the day was over.

Elara had booked them on one of more luxury liners instead of what the locals referred to as ‘chicken busses’ which ran more locally and, well, had more livestock on board. Elara anticipated that they’d need to use them at some point but thought it best if they put it off for now; one thing at a time and all that.

The wait was short as those around them chatted in languages Orm didn’t understand. It was hard not to feel so very far from home in this moment. Perhaps Elara sensed this from the tides but she subtly shifted so her uninjured arm was pressed against his in a silent show of support. It was a small thing but it helped. If this had been a couple weeks ago he might have been perturbed by how well she could read him but then he supposed she wouldn’t be a very good tidewatcher if she wasn’t good at picking up things like that. She wouldn’t be able to keep them safe if she couldn’t sense something like a change in mood, that could mean everything in a surprise attack. And he had to note she’d never used this to manipulate him or use him, only to help them. He admired that about her.

He was glad to let Elara take charge in the small things like where they sat. If nothing else, he was glad that he didn’t have to reveal further how little he knew of these things though he suspected she knew anyway. They sat towards the back and not very close to any other passengers so they could talk a little freer as long as they spoke quietly. She sat with her bad side to the window. It was going to hurt all day anyway but at least this way she wouldn’t have to worry about him accidentally elbowing her tender side or scraping her arm. She was careful how she held her arm so as not to rub it the wrong way but the bandaging and the jacket she wore helped insulate it more against aggravation.

Once the bus was on its way they didn’t talk at first. While Orm acclimated to the feel of things on the road and amongst surface dwellers like this, Elara took the opportunity to get familiar with the flows of the tides for the bus and their route. As the whole bus had a hectic and chaotic atmosphere to it, she thought it best to get a feel for what patterns were normal for it so she could better spot what was irregular.

After some time had passed and nothing went wrong and no one bothered them, she could feel some of the edge had dissipated off of Orm. She figured now was a good time to try conversing with him to distract him. She’d also strategically let him take the aisle seat because she figured he’d feel more able to protect them that way even if she did not feel such actions would be necessary.

“So,” she began, turning to him, “what do you know about Madren?”

Orm resisted the urge to smirk, of course she would know he was curious about the old tidewatcher even if he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t proud of it but the idea of meeting Madren intimidated him slightly. While he’d received reports from her during his reign, he’d never met her though he’d certainly heard stories from Vulko and the other Tidewatcher elders over the years. Combine that with all he’d heard from Elara since they’d come to the surface and Madren seemed a larger than life figure to Orm and one that left a profound impression. She was regarded by many as being exceedingly eccentric which Orm had always attributed to the fact that she’d spent several decades on the surface. She wasn’t the only Tidewatcher or Atlantean to maintain an outpost up above but she’d been topside longer than any other Atlantean he’d ever heard of.

She’d acclimated to her environment in unusual ways. When he’d been king, the tidewatcher council would regularly update him on reports from Madren. She could not only sense shifts of surface dweller politics through the tides but also witness it firsthand. She was an invaluable resource but a bit of a wildcard. He’d been content enough to let her stay up here as her intelligence was always timely. He could sense at times she disapproved of his war on the surface but she never interfered which suited him just fine. The same relations between Madren and the king of Atlantis had not always been the case when his father had been on the throne. It was not a subject Orvax had been inclined to speak of which had only served to make it a subject of curiosity for Orm.

“What can you tell me about Madren and my father?” he asked calmly.

Elara raised her eyebrows. That was not the question she had been expecting. “Well you clearly know something or else you wouldn’t ask. What have you heard?”

“Oh just the standard line Orvax circulated to the courts- that he banished her to the surface for her insubordination.” Orm answered with a wry grin, “and enough from Vulko to know that no one actually banished Madren.”

Elara shared a smug grin, “That he most certainly didn’t. Anyone who’s actually met Madren would know that she is not a woman to let anything but the tides tell her what to do. And even then she’ll argue and analyze it five ways to Sunday before consenting.”

“So what really happened?”

“I suppose the diplomatic answer would be that she resented the idea of being under his thumb and subject to his tempers and scrutiny,” Elara said after consideration.

“And the non-diplomatic answer?” he pressed.

“She was tired of his bullshit,” she said straight-face.

“Sounds like she taught you well on that count,” he replied slyly.

“That she did,” Elara agreed. “But the way she tells it, Orvax was a thousand times worse than you ever were. Madren was the best tidewatcher on the council and they both knew it. Madren wasn’t afraid to call him out on his ill-conceived schemes or throw the warnings of the tides in his face if things didn’t work out for Orvax. I don’t think he would have had problems if she was skilled and humble but she was abrasive and loud about it. He knew he couldn’t properly cut off contact with her because what results he saw and liked from the tides mostly came from her leads but he couldn’t abide her publicly contradicting and undermining him.”

“No,” Orm said quietly, “he certainly couldn’t.”

Elara could sense a bitterness and a history to that statement but also that it wasn’t something he was interested in exploring in depth at the moment so she moved on as nonchalantly as she could. “Madren’s no idiot and knew something had to give. Since the tides gave her no indication that Orvax was going to change and she knew she absolutely wasn’t going to, she decided she’d relocate as a sort of truce. Orvax wasn’t wild about her training others on the surface but ultimately agreed that it was preferable to her constantly embarrassing him down below.”

Orm found himself smiling. He enjoyed the way Elara told stories. He found himself content to simply watch how her eyebrows would quirk when she found something amusing and the way she’d gesture with her hands to make a point.  She was certainly more fascinating to watch than whatever was out the window at any rate.

“Everything that was said after she was gone was pure fiction made up to make Orvax sound better once Madren wasn’t in Atlantis to dispute him. All of us tidewatchers knew the truth but it didn’t really matter. Madren said the point was that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore so she was the real winner.” Elara gave an emphatic jab of her finger.

“What about after Orvax died? Why didn’t she come back then?” At this point Orm was just enjoying hearing her talk about it but he was still curious as to Madren’s continued presence on the surface.

A small part of him wondered if Madren stayed away because she didn’t think Orm had been any better of a king than Orvax had. He couldn’t be sure though, it wasn’t as if he and Madren had ever butted heads. It could be different with Tidewatchers, but two people were usually required to have met before having a feud. Orm then felt a twang of unease at the idea that Madren had stayed away because she’d seen his future sins and decided he was just as bad as his father. It wasn’t entirely unwarranted but it also wasn’t an idea he liked to entertain.

Elara sensed a pang of anxiety from Orm but rather than address it she simply continued on. “She was formally invited back for the sake of appearances but she declined. I asked her about it a few years ago and she said that as much as she loved Atlantis, she’d come to love the surface too and she wanted to instill some of that love into the next generation of Tidewatchers. She saw enough ill will between land and sea in the tides but wanted to do what she could to abate it, to remind her fellow Atlanteans that there was much to love and protect up above. She taught me well in that regard too.”

Elara nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking down at their feet. Orm was hardly about to declare war against the surface again but she knew that her affection for this world above was still an aberration among her people. While she’d argued with Orm about attacking the surface while they were still in Atlantis, she never would have dared to reveal her fondness for it back then. If she had, he would have just rolled his eyes and condescended.

He did none of those things now. In the brief glance she allowed herself to gauge his reaction, she could have sworn he smiled ruefully.

“Indeed she did,” he finally said quietly. Try as she might, she could sense no derision from the former king and that filled her with a quiet sort of gratitude.

It made sense to Orm. Elara had never shown the slightest hesitancy about coming to the surface. To being the one tasked with keeping him safe, perhaps, but she’d held no reservations for the surface. As comfortable as she was down below, there was an ease to her manner up here that some small part of him envied. He didn’t loathe it as he once had but now he was willing to admit that a lot of his discomfort stemmed from not understanding. He still hated their waste and how the people here took so much for granted but he could see hints of joy too. Though he would at least admit to himself that he might not have seen any without Elara’s influence.

A companionable silence fell between them for a time and Orm found himself thinking about his father and Madren. He might have once considered their relationship a mirror of his with Elara. Both Elara and Madren being the stubborn and defiant Tidewatcher while he and Orvax stood opposite as the haughty and proud king. How things had changed. It surprised him to realize that now he felt more kinship with Elara than he did with his father.

His father might have thought he was doing what was right to make Orm the best ruler he could but that didn’t change the fact that Orvax was a cold and distant father. When he did express emotions for Orm it was more anger and frustration with occasional bursts of small pride. More proud of how he had molded Orm than of anything Orm had done for himself. And Orm had spent so long telling himself that it was alright. That Orvax knew what was best but a quiet doubt had always lingered after Orvax had ordered Atlanna’s death. Justify it as Orvax had, Orm had resented his father for robbing him of the one person whom he had known to actually love him. Altanna may have loved Arthur and missed her life on the surface but she had loved Orm fiercely and protectively. Doing her best to spare him the worst of Orvax’s wrath and raise Orm to be considerate and clever and thoughtful.

That was why Orm had never sent his commandos after Tom or Arthur before Arthur came to Atlantis. The rumors of Atlanna’s bastard had certainly plagued his rule as had the knowledge that Atllanna’s human family was what had led to her death and yet Orm had left them alone. He’d certainly been advised to silence the rumors and have the Currys killed but Orm had resisted. It was the only way he could think of to honor Atlanna’s memory. As much as he hated them for essentially taking his mother from him, he knew that Atlanna had loved Arthur and Tom so he’d left them alone.

It was only when Arthur had come to Atlantis himself and challenged Orm’s right to rule that Orm could resist no longer. He was so close to achieving everything he’d been fighting so long for and he hadn’t been able to stand by and let Arthur challenge him. Add Mera’s betrayal and Orm was stung and retaliated in kind. Orm wasn’t proud of it now, it was the actions of a petty man who was hurt and he knew now he would have regretted it if his commandos had succeeded in killing Arthur and Mera.

As ashamed as Orm felt for some of his actions, Orm realized that if he hadn’t done what he had, he would not be where he was right now. The subject of a future assassination attempt and on the surface he’d spent so long despising perhaps- but he was also sitting next to a befuddling, and bitingly clever Tidewatcher who had seen his worst mistakes and still believed in him and that wasn’t something Orm liked the idea of losing. Realizing this affected him in the most peculiar way. As soon as he thought it, he felt a rush run through him and he couldn’t help the slightest tremor that hit him.

Elara sensed it, of course she did, though he couldn’t be entirely sure if she felt it physically or through the tides. In any case, she had grown so accustomed to him that, minute as it was, she felt it and she tore her gaze from the window to meet his eyes.

Concern played across her wonderfully expressive face and he could practically feel her scanning the tides for the source of the tremor.

“You alright?” She asked quietly, unconsciously leaning closer.

He had the absurd desire to lean in as well, just to be even closer to this startlingly lovely woman, but he kept himself in check, trying to school his features in the wake of such an idea.

“I’m fine,” he answered back just as softly. Not because he was worried about any of the other passengers hearing them but because he had the foolish notion that his realization was like a small, easily frightened animal- likely to flee at any loud sound or sudden motion. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, as gently but reserved as he could manage, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Elara could sense something had changed in Orm but, as fast as her heart was beating at their closeness and distracted as her thoughts were, she just couldn’t put her finger on what that change was.

“Thank me?”

“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for coming up here with me.” He said, even though that barely scratched the surface of what he was grateful for in this current moment.

He was right. He hadn’t thanked her but, if Elara was being honest, she hadn’t expected him to. She wasn’t sure if that was selling the prince short or not but when all of this started he wasn’t feeling any sense of appreciation at his glorified exile. His thanks were hardly some grand glorious gesture, but given where Orm had started, it meant something to Elara. He might have once taken something like this for granted or assumed that it was her duty and simply expected of her. She had begun this journey feeling like the tides were calling her to do this, so she may have once said that thanks weren’t necessary but many things had changed between them since they had left Atlantis.

“You’re welcome,” was all she said and before she could think better of it, she took his hand.

Orm was getting obnoxiously fond of holding her hand. He remembered seeing Elara and Calysa coming to meet them, holding each other’s arms and being very affectionate and he’d certainly seen such friendly physical exchanges among his citizens when visiting the regions but that type of physical familiarity was never something he’d had access to after Atlanna died.

Given all of her many gifts and deductions, Orm wasn’t sure if Elara knew that or not. Didn’t know if this was just her general way with people she was familiar with or if she was actively trying to compensate for his touch-starved youth. And while he wanted to believe he was special, he wasn’t sure how much it mattered in this exact moment. She was holding his hand because she wanted to, because he’d reached out to her and it felt nice.

They didn’t speak again for awhile and eventually she let his hand go with a tight squeeze before getting into her pack for snack bars. The rest of the day was more of the same. There were a few bathroom stops and a constant shuffle of passengers boarding and departing. Sometimes there would be other passengers all around them and paranoid as Orm was he didn’t feel like chatting much, just in case. Elara mostly respected this but sometimes engaged him in small talk about the food they ate or the areas they passed through. He didn’t feel like she was trying to placate him or appease him, but more felt like she was chatting for her own peace of mind and he did his best to help but obviously had little experience in the subject matter.

It was a baffling day but not as frustrating as it could have been if Orm had been left to navigate it alone. Confident and stubborn as he might have been, he had nothing on Elara’s unflappable calm. No matter how loud the bus got or unintelligible the bus driver, she kept her cool and guided them through. Hours passed in this almost mindless chatter. Elara encouraged him to try to get some more sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He may not actively dislike and distrust everyone on this bus as he once had, but it was still too foreign an environment for him to get easy.

Elara, to her credit, tried to stay awake out of solidarity but she just didn’t have the same vigor she usually did. Her injury was healing well. She’d made a point to check on it before they left this morning and once at one of the bathroom stops. It would heal within a few days but it still took a lot of energy in the meantime. As there wasn’t anything pressing to distract her or keep her alert, she kept nodding off, lulled by the easy cadence of their fellow passengers and the feel of the bus rolling along down the highway.

Once she woke up abruptly when a bump in the road caused her forehead to collide with the window. Orm, who had been occupying himself counting and memorizing the other people on the bus, started at Elara’s gasp when she was woken. His warrior instincts immediately put him on edge and on the lookout for the cause. She immediately inspected the point of contact with one hand while holding the other out to him as if to give him the all clear.

“It’s fine, just a bump,” she said and instinctively tilted her head to show that no serious harm had been done.

He appeared to study it for a minute as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding any lacerations. Finally, he nodded as if agreeing with her assessment but then frowned minutely, saying almost under his breath, “this is hardly the smoothest form of transportation. It’s awfully clumsy.”

“Well it beats trekking through the jungle for days on our own.” Elara replied with her usual measure of snark and common sense as well as a signature smirk, “I know that we could handle ourselves but that would have been miserable. Just think of the mosquitoes.”

Not having much experience with the flying pests and still thinking of the realization he’d come to earlier that day, Orm wasn’t sure spending days alone with her in the jungle would be particularly miserable after all. However, he also knew she had a point and with mostly unknown adversaries out there, that would not be the wisest course of action.

“Perhaps,” was all he said in reply. He could accept these things in the name of practicality all day long, and he had, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel comfortable up here.

While passengers had left and boarded their bus for hours and no one had attacked them or even properly interacted with him or Elara besides the bus driver, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and unease. Like they were too exposed. And while Elara was the one thing that was keeping him from complete uneasiness or from complaining about this clumsy earth vehicle spewing noxious fumes, it didn’t mean that he was able to feel comfortable up here.

Even Elara’s ability to balance and calm him instinctively was foreign to him. While Elara was the most familiar thing to him for hundreds of miles, he hadn’t been aware of how much he’d come to count on and trust her until surrounded by others. He still didn’t know what to make of how he was coming to regard her- it was still so strange and new to him.

Elara, of course, being as experienced as she was in interpersonal relationships and friendships might know better how to word or contextualize how he was feeling but he didn’t even know how he could put it into words to ask. And, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if she felt any of these confusing sensations that he did. What if she simply had grown to regard him as a friend? While that wouldn’t be the worst fate he could suffer at her hands, he could feel something unlike friendship growing in him. He hadn’t had much experience with friendship to be sure but this was just unlike anything he’d ever known. Worse still, what if she still saw all this as duty? What if she was simply doing all this to fulfill the call of the tides?

She had been the one to kiss him that drunken night but she’d also been the one to leave and shut herself off from him after that. He thought it might have been repulsion at his admission but maybe it was her own way of prioritizing duty? Her way of saying that fun or feelings would always come last. He didn’t know where that left him if that was true. So while Orm had no activity to occupy him physically on their long bus ride, he certainly had much to think of.

Elara, for her part, slept for most of it. When she woke up at the stop where they’d be changing busses she was surprised to find that she had not fallen asleep against the window but with her head leaning on Orm. He was just the right height for her head to rest against his broad shoulder comfortably. As the bus fully stopped and other passengers started getting up, she almost sheepishly lifted her head off of his shoulder. She didn’t know why it struck her so odd, maybe in their tight quarters, Orm didn’t notice? Highly unlikely, but perhaps he was still offended at the crudeness of their transport and bore it to prevent her from further injury? It wasn’t the most plausible explanation but it was all Elara could figure as they gathered their things and disembarked the bus for the final time.

Elara gingerly stretched out. If she felt cramped after hours of being in those tight seats, she couldn’t imagine how Orm felt with his much longer frame. If they’d been alone or back at the cabin she’d expect him to work through some of those fighting forms he’d been so fond of but he instead he opted for more subtle stretches. After they’d both taken advantage of a bathroom and regained feeling in their limbs, she could feel him scanning the area. He hadn't been fond of the bus but after eight something hours it was at least more familiar than this little town in the middle of Guatemala.

Elara could understand that and did her best to feel through the tides for any threat, only to be surprised at a familiar thread.

“When is our next bus set to arrive?” Orm asked, looking around dubiously.

“Actually,” Elara said, feeling more confidence in her reading, taking gradual steps forward as she mentally tugged on the tide, “we aren’t taking a bus to the sanctuary.”

“We aren’t?” he asked, confusion and alarm coming off of him.

“No,” she replied as she reached the other end of the pull and pointed to the off-roads Jeep at the far end of the street.

An older woman with long gray hair pulled back under a sun hat sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the two of them with an almost wicked smile on her face, clear to see even from where they stood.

“Is that...” Orm began but of course it was. Who else could have seen when and where their bus would stop?

“Yep,” Elara answered with admiration and fondness in her voice, “that’s Madren.”

[prepare4trouble]

Star Wars Rebels fanfic - Together (an AU of an AU) Part 7/9

(part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6)

A knock on the door of his quarters snapped Ezra to panicked alertness. He grabbed the Sith holocron from the bunk in front of him and stared wildly around the room, trying to find somewhere to hide it. Nobody would know what it was, but they didn’t need to. If someone mentioned it to Kanan, he would almost definitely recognize it from the description.

Although, maybe he wouldn’t. He had other things on his mind right now…

He quickly stashed the holocron underneath the cuddly tooka that the med droid had given him the day before, and pushed the toy to the bottom corner of his bunk where it would be less noticeable.

“Yeah?” he called.

When the door didn’t immediately open, Ezra allowed himself a moment to reassess the hiding place. The tooka was new, and that meant that it would stand out, people would notice it, ask questions about it. If whoever was at the door decided to pick it up, or even just touch it, they would almost definitely notice the holocron underneath.

Anyway, he didn’t want to keep the tooka where people could see it either. He didn’t want to have to put up with the endless jokes Zeb would make at his expense if he saw that Ezra had something like that.

He hesitated. He wanted to move both the tooka and the holocron out of sight, but if he did, the door might open while he was looking for a better hiding place.

He would have to leave them where they were, and hope for the best.

“Come in,” he said, a little louder this time. He jumped down from his bunk and headed to the door to open it. It had to be Sabine. Hera had spent the morning with Kanan, but now she was off overseeing the setting up of the base. As far as Ezra knew, Zeb was out on the base too, but if he was back early, he wouldn’t knock on his own door. And since he seemed to think he owned the ship and everything on it, Chopper wouldn’t have bothered to knock either.

When Sabine continued not to open the door, Ezra pressed the button himself. The door slid open and he was shocked to find Kanan standing on the other side.

As far as Ezra knew, Kanan hadn’t left his room in days, not since he had returned to the ship from the med center. He was the last person Ezra had expected to find on the other side of the door.

At least now he didn’t have to worry about anybody seeing the holocron…

He cringed at the thought and pushed it away, then turned his attention to Kanan.

Kanan’s fingertips were touching the wall to the right of the door where he had, presumably, been searching for the button to open it. The bandage he was wearing was thinner, covering less of his face than the last time Ezra had seen him. Ezra didn’t know whether he had been forced to make the journey to the med center and back again for that, or whether the droid had been on the ship.

His hair was tied back in a very loose ponytail that allowed stray strands of hair to escape from the band and hang around his face. He hadn’t shaved, and the shadow of a beard was beginning to cover his cheeks and upper lip. Ezra could see that he was still in pain from the tension in his lower jaw, though his eyes were completely covered.

“Ezra?” he asked.

Ezra realized with a jolt that Kanan didn’t know whether he was there. Sure, he probably assumed that he was, but he didn’t know. For all he knew, it could have been Zeb that opened the door. Although, probably not, because the smell would give him away. Plus, Zeb probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to just stand there staring.

“Uh, hey,” Ezra stammered.

Kanan visibly relaxed. “Mind if I come in?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ezra said, then shook his head. That wasn’t right, he didn’t mind. “I mean no,” he said, but that wasn’t right anymore either, because now it sounded like he was telling Kanan that he couldn’t come in. “I mean, I don’t mind,” he clarified. He stepped back, out of Kanan’s way. “Come in,” he added.

Just like the last time Ezra had seen him, one hand checked the space ahead of him as he stepped through the door. Without breaking contact, his other hand moved from the wall outside, to the doorframe, to the wall inside. It remained there like an anchor, not only keeping him in place but allowing him to keep track of exactly where he was in the room. Ezra recognized what he was doing; he had done the same thing himself, when he had been practicing.

He felt a pang of sympathy mixed with sadness and guilt. This hadn’t been supposed to happen.

The med droid had told Kanan the same day he had released him to go home that his sight couldn't be saved. Hera had gathered the rest of the crew together in the lounge to tell them later the same day. The whole thing had reminded Ezra in an uncomfortable way of the time he had shared his own news in that same room.

“So, uh…” Ezra said. “Sorry I haven’t been by to see… visit you. I just…” he folded his arms tightly. The others had been. Hera almost constantly when she wasn’t working, Sabine and Zeb at least once a day. He wasn’t sure about Chopper, but he had been by at least once. Ezra had wanted to. But every time he tried, he found himself hesitating outside the door, imagining how the conversation might go. “Sorry,” he said again. It came out a broken whisper.

“It’s okay,” Kanan told him.

It wasn’t okay. “I was going to come,” Ezra told him. He really had been. He just wasn’t sure when. What had happened had been his fault, and he hadn’t been ready to see the result of his actions. Not only that, but he hadn’t thought Kanan would be ready.

“Mind if I sit down?” Kanan asked.

“Uh, sure, of course.” Ezra looked around the room, and located the single chair underneath the desk that he and Zeb rarely used. One of Ezra’s outfits hung over the back of it, and a Stormtrooper helmet lay on the seat. Ezra quickly grabbed them and placed them out of the way on his bunk. He turned back to Kanan to find him already taking a hesitant step away from the wall, in the direction of the desk.

“You were right,” Kanan told him through gritted teeth. His hand moved through the air again and he took another step, smaller this time. “Learning this and using if for real aren't the same thing.”


Ezra tensed. He should help. Maybe Kanan would refuse, maybe he wanted to do it for himself, but Ezra should at least offer. Only, he didn’t know how to help. He had seen Hera leading Kanan back to the Ghost with Kanan holding onto her arm, but for the few short steps across the room, that wouldn’t work. They would be at their destination almost before they started. The only thing he could think of was to take Kanan by the arm and show him where to go, and he couldn’t do that, because he could imagine exactly how disconcerting it would feel to be pulled around like that.

Kanan took another step. He was going in the right direction but so hesitantly that Ezra could barely stand to watch. Finally, when he was too far away to maintain contact with the wall, Kanan’s hand dropped away, leaving him unanchored and cast adrift in the center of the room. Ezra sucked in his bottom lip and chewed it hard. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time he had made the short journey across the room without sight; he had hated every step. Kanan couldn’t even remove his blindfold at the end of it.

“Try…” Ezra said, then stopped.

It was too late. Kanan paused his careful journey across the room, turned in Ezra’s direction and waited for him to continue.

Ezra took a breath. “Just an idea, but try using the Force to check the ground in front of you,” he said. “Instead of trying to sense the whole room, I mean. You know, like bli… kinda like my aunt used her cane.” It was something he had been trying out, and it wasn’t ideal, there were a lot of things it wouldn’t work for, but as long as you paid attention, it could get you across a room without having to worry too much about tripping.

Kanan hesitated before he took another step, a little more confident this time. He nodded.

“Or, I could just help you,” Ezra added. “I mean, if you want.”

Kanan shook his head as he took another few steps, then reached out with his hand to find the back of the chair. He located it on the second attempt, checked the seat with his hand to make sure it was clear, and sat down carefully.

Ezra relaxed the moment Kanan reached his destination. He sat too, on the lower bunk, and stared down at his feet. Silence descended as Ezra tried to think of something — anything — to say. Nothing came to mind; nothing that didn’t relate to Kanan’s injury. He didn’t want to talk about that, not if he didn’t have to. He doubted that Kanan would want to dwell on it either. That was one of the reasons he had avoided visiting in the first place.

Kanan broke the silence. “I heard you went to see the med droid,” he said. “Did he tell you anything?”

If Hera had told Kanan about that, Ezra was sure she would also have told him the outcome of the visit. He shook his head, then remembered that the gesture was meaningless to Kanan now. “Nothing I didn’t know already. It’s what I thought.”

It had been hard to hear. Hera had been the one that had insisted that he go. She had gone with him, sat through the vision tests and the genetic test, and held his hand so tightly during the diagnosis that Ezra thought she might cut off the circulation to his fingers. It was probably for the best. If she hadn’t been holding onto him, he thought he might have run away.

“I’ve probably got about three years,” he added quietly. “Before… you know.”

Kanan pressed his lips together as he processed this new information. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t have gone with you.”

Ezra shrugged. “You were kinda busy at the time. Anyway, it’s not like I didn’t already know what he was going to say.”

“It’s different though, knowing something for sure,” Kanan told him.

He was right. But then he would be; his news must have been even harder to hear.

Ezra folded his arms and tried not to think about it. There was nothing he could do about it, and he had already known. At least now, for some reason, he had a tooka to hide his holocron underneath. “So, the med droid’s kinda weird,” he said, mostly to change the subject.

The corners of Kanan’s lips curved into the smallest smile and he winced as he agitated the damaged skin around his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think someone forgot to program him with a bedside manner.”

“And I know he’s an eye specialist, but does he seem to be really into eye conditions?”

Kanan shrugged. “Not mine. He said it was boring.”

“What?”

“Well, he didn’t actually say ‘boring’. It was something like, ‘The injury, while interesting in cause, is disappointingly mundane in effect,” Kanan effected an odd, stilted tone that did actually sound a little like the droid.

Ezra stared. “You’re kidding,” he said.

Kanan shook his head again, a little more expressively this time. The hint of a smile briefly returned. “So at least you’re interesting.”

Ezra slumped. “I don’t want to be interesting,” he said. “I want things to go back to how they used to be.” How they had been a few months earlier, before he had ever heard of Sacul Syndrome, or of Malachor.

“Yeah,” Kanan sighed. “I know.”

He supposed Kanan must feel the same way, and suddenly he wished he hadn’t said anything. He swiped angrily at tears that were beginning to well up in his eyes, almost glad that Kanan wouldn’t be able to see them.

“Hey,” Kanan said. Ezra looked up to find that somehow without him noticing, Kanan had gotten up and found his way back across the room to stand next to Ezra. His hand hovered in the air for a few moments, moving left and right, up and down, until it finally found Ezra’s shoulder. His fingers gripped hard. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, and he sounded so certain that Ezra could almost believe him.

Almost, but not quite.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Ezra asked.

Kanan folded his arms. “We start lessons again,” he said. “As soon as possible. It’ll be… a little different now, but…” he stopped, shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“No, Kanan, we won’t,” Ezra said. “That’s kinda the problem.”

He froze. He hadn’t meant to say that. It had just slipped out, and now it was too late to take it back.

“I… Sorry,” he said. He looked at Kanan, trying to gauge his reaction.

Kanan gave another small smile. “Don’t be,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re going to need a sense of humor to get through this.”

Ezra relaxed, just slightly. Kanan was right about that, but Ezra wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to laugh about it.

“You shouldn't have to worry about teaching me,” he said. “Not right now, anyway.” Kanan needed to look after himself, his need was more immediate. It would be a waste to use time he could spend on himself teaching Ezra things that he didn’t need to know yet.

“Do you know what I’ve been doing the past few days?” Kanan asked.

Not shaving, that was for sure. Beyond that, Ezra didn’t know. “Meditating?” he guessed.


Kanan shook his head. “I haven’t been doing anything. I’ve been laying on my bed feeling sorry for myself for most of the past three days. I’ve been trying to think of something to do, but I didn’t know how to do anything. So I just lay there thinking about how useless I felt.”

Ezra looked away as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. It was his fault. Kanan was feeling that way because of him.

“But today, I decided it was enough,” Kanan continued. “I told you I was going to help you. I said it didn't matter whether you could see or not, you could still be a Jedi. I said we were going to figure it out, and we are. That’s what gave me a reason to get out of bed. Besides, what kind of an example would I be setting if I carried on down that path?”

Ezra didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. Kanan’s reaction was understandable, and he knew for a fact that if he had been the one injured at Malachor, he would still be laying around wallowing in self-pity.

“Kanan, I…” he began. “I said some things. Before. When you were trying to help me. I… thought some things too. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t want this…” he stopped, unable to continue, and pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he added.

Kanan shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

But he had. He had made so many mistakes.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, barely even thinking about what he was doing, he found himself on his feet with his arms wrapped tightly around Kanan. He felt Kanan stiffen in surprise at the unexpected embrace and realized a second too late that he should have been more gentle, maybe given a little warning, but Kanan recovered quickly. He returned the hug, and for a moment, Ezra felt safe. For a moment, he could forget everything that had happened and was happening, and imagine that the universe was as it should be.

But only for a moment. Then it was over, and they were standing in Ezra’s quarters, Kanan’s face partially obscured by a bandage covering his damaged eyes.

“We’re going to be fine,” Kanan said. “You know that, right?”

Ezra wanted to believe it, but he just couldn’t. He shook his head. “How?”

“Because we’re going to help each other. The thing you showed me just now, using the Force like a cane, it’s different to what we’ve been trying to do, and it’s probably something I wouldn’t have thought of, but it worked. That’s what we’re going to do. It’s not going to be about me teaching you anymore — it never should have been that — we’re going to teach each other. We’re going to figure it out together.”

It was almost the same thing Kanan had told him before, when he had been trying to help him. Neither of them knew the answer, they didn’t know for certain what would, and what wouldn’t work, but they were going to learn together. It was the same promise, but it felt different now. If felt true.

Ezra hated it.

He took a breath and exhaled slowly. He hated it, but he could work with it. “Okay,” he said.

(next)