#time to digest the hard turn lol and what reviewers said was tying up the series

[missriyochuchi]

The show was always leading up to kids in explicit danger. The Lawquane kids, Hera, Gungi, the miners, the clone cadets - all rocking alongside Omega, all growing up in a galaxy that won’t let them be kids. It jibes with what happened to Grogu after Order 66 (he was really the first clue to the Empire’s kidnapping kids).

When Rex tries to get through to Wolffe, his main argument is that Omega is a kid and the Wolffe that Rex knew would never go after a kid. And yet there they were, soldiers targeting the most vulnerable. The show then sort of works as a coming-of-age for the kids and a series of coming-to-Jesus moments for the clones.

[patiencekindnesscourage]

The Hermit: Write about a time your character did some soul searching. What did they find? - Grant

“When was the last time she ate?”

“We managed to get some cream of wheat into her about three days ago, Commander.”

“How much of that made it into her stomach?”

“About half a bowl, Sir.”

Hornigald released a heavy sigh, a calloused hand scraping over the building stubble along his jaw as he watched the small blond bundled up in a ball at the top of her cot. She hadn’t moved from the day before, the blanket barely covering her slim shoulders and her body turned to face the wall, once long hair like spun gold stuck out in matted and greasy tangles, the luster of it gone, reminding him of musty straw. “Has she said anything?”

“No Sir, still hasn’t spoken.” The medic sighed, holding out his chart for Commander Hornigald to look over.

Everything was the same as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Yet he still accepted the paperwork, just like the day before, and read it over, hoping that maybe he had missed something, one tiny thing that could mark some improvement in the Corporals condition. It was times like this he cursed his meticulous nature, infuriatingly finding nothing more than he had the previous days. Very rarely was he surprised by missed information.

“Listen, Commander, I know she means a great deal to you, but unless she improves and I can clear her for service, I’m going to have to move her out of the infirmary and transfer her to a civilian facility under a medical discharge.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry… we’ve tried everything. Physically she’s fine, her injuries are healing beautifully with no signs of infection… but whatever is wrong–”

“– Is in her head. I know. I’ve seen it before.” Hornigald interrupted tersely, lips forming into a hard line as he flipped through the pages of Chereisie’s medical charts a final time.

“I can’t give her more than another week…”

“You’ll give her three weeks, Captain.” Commander Hornigald glared down at the man, roughly stuffing the chart against the medic’s chest. “That is an order, do you understand?”

“You can pull rank as much as you like, Commander, but her medical charts don’t lie. When they are placed in front of my Commanding Officers for next weeks review, not even your influence can change what’s been written down.”

“Then write something else!”

“I’m not forging–hurgh!”

Hornigald brought their noses together. “I said write. Something. Else. Give me time to work with her.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” The captain gasped, struggling to remove the iron grip of Hornigald’s fist from the front of his jacket.

“Then discharge her. Please, Captain, just give me time.” He straightened, releasing the medic and helping straighten out the front of the mans uniform.

While he was agitated, the Medic finally relented, scowling sidelong at Hornigald as he added a post script to Chereisie’s evening examination report. “Fine… It’s done. But after three weeks if Corporal Crawford has not shown improvement, I will have no choice but to submit her discharge papers with the review.”

“Agreed, Captain. Thank you.”

Still grumbling, the medic gave an offhanded salute and moved on to the next soldier. Hornigald didn’t care, having gotten the one victory he had wanted for now, he could live with a little minor disrespect.

Now came the hard part.

Moving slowly, Hornigald  sat down on the edge of Chereisie’s cot, reaching over to adjust the blanket about her shoulders. “Hey Kid.” He smiled, leaning back against the wall and rolling his head to the side to watch her.

Chereisie didn’t move, and for a brief moment he worried she had stopped breathing.

“I don’t know if you can hear me–”

She could.

“But I’m not giving up on you, understand?” He continued, folding his arms as he got comfortable. The cot gave a concerning creak beneath his weight, but remained intact, if perhaps with  a considerable bend in the frame now. “I’m going to be a royal pain in your ass every morning at breakfast, and every night with dinner. You want me gone, you’re going to have make me, is that understood, Corporal?”

Chereisie said nothing, expressionless features remaining facing the wall.

Hornigald let out another small sigh, wriggling his way closer to the small woman until he could get an arm around her in a fatherly manner, gently drawing her against him. She didn’t fight him or tense up in surprise or even twitch, simply going limp within his hold until he got her situated comfortably and the blanket once more wrapped warmly around her. ”I’m not going to pretend to know what you saw, Kid.” He offered gently, brushing the hair from her pale features and trying to tuck the tangle behind an ear. “I only know what was found, and what was reported. But I do know you. Your heart always was ten sizes too big for you, but it’s what made you one of the good ones.”

Still nothing.

Undaunted, Hornigald stretched his legs out to ease the muscles of his lower back, watching the nursing staff as they began to light the evenings lanterns, filling the infirmary with an oily orange glow. It made the sick look sicker and cast ominous shadows along the far walls and ceilings.

“I’m not leaving you, Cherry.” He said gently, turning his attention back to the small blond in his arm. “We’re going to get through this together, you and I, okay? Don’t give up on yourself. I know that it seems like that’s all that’s left, but it’s not. I promise.”

The small paladin simply blinked, glassy eyes staring ahead to the wall and the shadows that danced in the lantern light.

——————————————————————————–

Light how she wanted to believe Hornigald. Believe that there was something left. But what was there?

They were all dead. All of them.

All of them except her.

She could still hear their screams, their desperate cries for help rising until their lungs could no longer breath life into their fear. Reaching fingers filled her mind as they clawed for each other, filling the air with terror and pain.

How could there be life after that? What was there left for her now when she couldn’t even help those she had trained beside, ate beside, fought beside? Even her light had failed them, and soon, it would have failed even her had it not been torn away from her.

Fear still clenched her heart in her chest and stole her breath beneath the memory, there was no shaking it. Every time she closed her eyes the images were there, clawing at the  back of her mind for release and searing into her very soul. Chereisie was almost thankful she had no food in her stomach, the urge to vomit looming over her in perpetual discomfort.

At this point she didn’t care if she was discharged, or even if she lived for that matter. She didn’t want to live. Why should she? What right did she have to be alive when the others weren’t even given the chance? She didn’t belong here, she belonged with them, she should have died beside them…

Yet Hornigald’s words swam within her mind, tugged at her thoughts, her heart. He just wouldn’t stop talking. Granted he had warned her he wouldn’t, but at the time she figured she could tune him out. But there was something in the way he spoke, what he said, that kept her attention returning to him, had her straining to hear what he had to say next.

It didn’t hurt that he was warm compared to the dispassionate cold of the infirmary cot, his presence offering a familiar comfort she hadn’t been aware she had been missing until she found herself being drawing into the fold of his arm.

Maybe she could listen for a little bit, she owed him that much at least. And the paladin truly did care for Hornigald. He wasn’t her father, but he had always been there for her like one, just like he was now. Always helping her pick herself up, reminding her to have courage and patience.

“Live for them, Cherry. Without you in the world, their memory fades, their sacrifice is forgotten. But with you, they can live on.” He had repeated every morning, and every night. Day in and day out.

“Live for them, for their memory. If you give up, the legion has destroyed them, and even though you’re in Stormwind, it’s destroyed you too. They’re lives were given for nothing…You are stronger than this, Crawford.”

The small paladin had heard it enough times she could recite it word for word. But it stayed with her. Rolling through her mind until her soul began to rise and swallow every word until it became gospel.

Fight for them. Live for them. Never give up on them, on herself.

What would they have said if they could see her now, wasting away to nothing. For what? She had never given up on them in life, what was she doing giving up on them in death?

Hornigald was right… She was stronger than this.

The more she digested it all, the more she wanted to live, to fight. For them, for Hornigald… for herself. This wasn’t her, this emaciated, defeated husk of a woman. This had never been her, and like hell was she going to allow it to be now!

Slowly, with aching, weak limbs, the small paladin unfolded from her blanket and sat up, emerald eyes rising to meet the hopeful brown of Hornigalds as she drew her chin up in defiance.

“Can I have some soup?” Cherry croaked from a dry throat, her tongue like cotton, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Yet through cracked and chapped lips, she was smiling, drawing light back into herself. She had traversed the darkest parts of her soul, wallowed in nightmare and self pity, heartache and despair. And of all places, that was where she found her light.

The Legion was not defeating her today.

@redeemed-gunslinger ( Ty for the ask… and sorry for long winded LOL)