thesaurus | ITT: SAD JEDI

Entry tags:

!caitlin,
#ic

ITT: SAD JEDI

Obi-Wan stood behind the little hovel he called home, tending to Rooh-the-eopie. He watched the first of the two suns sink below the horizon, halving the amount of light that bathed the desert. Dusk was here, and soon so would night, and so too would the bad dreams arrive: the images of terrified younglings and friends dying. But he closed his eyes against the early onslaught of thoughts. There was no need to let them plague him before their time; if he let them take him at any moment at all then there was no way that he could go on.

Opening his eyes, he stroked Rooh's snout carefully, calming her as she became restless. He made sure she was secured, fed and watered, then he moved onto her son, Tooh. Tooh wasn't big enough yet to be ridden, but that was alright. When he took Ferus to Mos Eisley they could walk and he would lead the eopies with them. He could ride Rooh home, or pick up some supplies and have her carry them. But the walk there would be good for them all, he thought.

Ferus Olin was inside the hut, taking care of whatever would pass for dinner that night. It wouldn't be long now before they parted ways, before Ferus took his leave to Alderaan, but for now the company was something of a comfort. Ferus was family, though they hardly got along perfectly. Ferus mouthed off, for one thing, and questioned Obi-Wan regularly. It was a little like having Anakin--

Obi-Wan stopped his thoughts again, patting Tooh and straightening up. Ferus wasn't Anakin. He never would be. But he had come closer to becoming Anakin than either of them dared talk about.

For now there was much pain for both of them.

He stood on the hill, looking east, toward the Lars homestead in the far distance. He waited for the second sun to set and wondered. He wished he could reach out with the Force to Luke, check that all was well, but he couldn't connect to him. Shouldn't, even if he could.

It was lonely in the desert, so far from everything, even with Ferus there. In some ways, Obi-Wan thought, more so because Ferus was there, comfort or not. They had both lost so much: friends, family, purpose. More than Obi-Wan could bear, he thought some days. But now they were guardians of the galaxy's hope. It would be a long, difficult job, but Obi-Wan would shoulder that burden. He only hoped that Ferus could too. He didn't know how the young man was coping. Obi-Wan barely knew how he was coping.

The sun finally disappeared, leaving him in relative darkness before the stars began to twinkle into life. He turned his chin up to the sky, searching for familiar constellations he would never find from this remote planet. He had never paid much attention to Tatooine in the past, even knowing it was Anakin's homeworld. It wasn't as if it should have mattered. But a remarkable amount of the galaxy seemed to orbit around this little planet on the outer rim.

And here they were, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ferus Olin. Two men, stripped of everything, almost ready to say goodbye. How long would they need to hold together before peace returned?

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"Home, I guess," Veeka groused. "But we couldn't go back. We had to make a stand against him and the Tuskens."

"Maybe 'cause Gault needed a scapegoat," a man nearby interrupted, voice dripping with disdain. "So we wouldn't take him on for his lies."

"Shut up!" Veeka snapped, spinning in her seat and nearly toppling over. The man tensed but didn't rise to the challenge.

Ferus moved instinctively to help steady her, but ultimately didn't touch her, didn't finish that movement. He looked to the man who had spoken up, measuring him. Whoever he was it seemed he was on Obi-Wan's side, or at least on his side of the truth.

Half standing, hands on the table, he took another quick look around the room. It seemed that tension in general was running high.

He thought for a moment to ask the man himself what he meant, but instead leaned forward to Veeka, put on a look of concern, and asked her. "What does he mean?"

For a moment, neither of them answered Ferus, eyes locked in a glare. But Veeka slowly looked up at him, her gaze struggling for a moment to properly focus on him. She squinted, almost accusatory, as if she'd forgotten who he was for a second there. But he appeared to be on her side.

"Dad," she choked. "People didn't like the ways he tried to get people to join the Call. Or what he was doing with the money. But it wasn't his fault! The Calwells were in on it."

The man who had interrupted stayed silent this time, struggling but not denying it.

Eyes darting to the man for just a second, Ferus looked back to Veeka, trying to keep eye contact. She was somewhat accepting of him, but she could decide otherwise at any point, especially with other people involving themselves in the conversation.

That said, Ferus was glad for the man and the way he kept watching them. Just by being there, he was helpful - Ferus hoped he wouldn't turn around or back out just yet, because his reactions and expressions were helpful to finding out the truth.

Weighing his words for a moment, he ventured, "That must have been frustrating to him. To be accused like that."

"Of course it was!" Veeka shot, voice raising as she got heated again. "His whole business was protecting the settlers from the fripping Sand People. But they still turned their backs on him!"

"He attacked us and blamed the Sandies," the man at the next table over growled.

Veeka struggled for a moment, expression wavering between anger and shame. She didn't know which one to feel. Ultimately, though, she was cowed and turned her eyes away. "It was for everyone's own good."

General statements sometimes got you more information than questions did, and Ferus was glad to see that that had worked. He looked to the man, noted the anger; looked back at Veeka and saw her conflict.

Whatever had father had done or hadn't done, it was clear that he'd been a dishonest man, one way or the other. Probably one with excuses and justifications. That's what Ferus was looking for now.

"He had a plan when he did that, didn't he?"

"Yeah," she agreed, straightening up a little. "If people didn't join the Call, then they'd get attacked for real. Dad made sure they were covered for when things got serious."

"Right," the intervening snorted. "He attacked us and conned us out of our money because he wanted to help."

Veeka tensed, grip tightening on her cup. She jerked, started to turn, faltered suddenly. She didn't fight with words though, either.

Again Ferus looked quickly to the man and gave him a tiny nod, a hopefully subtle signal to show that he was listening to him as well, that he was taking his side into account. The man might not catch it, but the young woman was still the priority in many ways, as she was the problem.

Ferus sat back down and looked at her, seeking her eyes.

"What did he need the money for?"

There was a beat of silence before Veeka said, "the farm. The vaporators."

The man snorted and asked, "Jabba's blood soaked credits weren't enough for him?"

Veeka just glowered.

The dishonest liar picture that Obi-Wan had drawn up and that this stranger behind Veeka was supporting started ringing more and more true. Veeka's hesitation made it all the more clear, and Ferus thought that if he could make her confront those mixed feelings she'd let go of part of the blame - hopefully, anyway.

It could go spectacularly wrong.

But he'd not go there just yet.

"Jabba? Jabba the Hutt?"

"You know another Jabba with his grimy mitts all over Tatooine?" the man asked derisively.

"He's an offworlder," Veeka snorted.

Ferus gave a quick smile, as if in apology of his ignorance and confirmation to why he wouldn't know. Of course, he knew about Jabba - the creature was notorious - but he wanted these people's words, not his own.

"I've heard rumours", he said. "He doesn't seem like someone you want to do business with."

The man laughed: "honest farmers wouldn't."

Veeka exploded.

She was on her feet in an instant, metal cup in her hand for a split second before it was flying across the room. Fortunately for the settler, her aim was off, and it clattered to the floor somewhere behind him, spilling liquor everywhere. He only had a second to look smug, however, before Veeka was stumbling forward. She nearly fell on top of him, but snatched at his collar all the same, balling fists into the fabric and growling into his face.

He was on his feet a second later, shoving her off but only causing both of them to stumble. He balled his own fist, ready to start swinging if she wouldn't let go.

"Ooooh nooooooo," came a moan from the entrance to the bar-side of the store.

Ferus was moving almost right away, but Veeka had surprised him with her anger - not that the anger itself had been sudden or unexpected, but the way she so quickly turned it into action was, and he thought he should have expected that sooner.

Reaching out to steady her as she stumbled back, he only held onto her for a short moment before he let go, aiming to step between her and the man, holding his hands up and giving the man a hard stare.

He'd catch that fist, should the settler decide to throw it.

"Enough", he said sharply. "She's grieving. Respect that or leave her alone."

Veeka blinked at Ferus for a moment, thrown off by the fact that he was holding onto her, even if it passed soon enough. It was a distraction--but fortunately it was for the farmer too, who paused, fist wavering as he looked between the two young adults. He was confused for a moment about who he should strike out against, and as a result ended up not doing it at all.

Instead he just spoke, voice low, "her father pulled the bantha wool over our eyes. I don't know what your uncle did or didn't do, but the man was a thief and a brute."

Veeka tried to shove past Ferus to get at the man again.

Turning around, Ferus made to grab her arms and catch her eyes, willing her to be still, holding her so should he need to. "If he was", he said, watching Veeka but speaking to the man behind them, "he still deserves respect in death."

But the man wasn't the only one who was wrong, and Ferus leaned closer to Veeka, watching her intently, now clearly addressing her.

"Anger won't help you", he said in a low tone, a warning. "It won't make you happy and it won't bring them back."

There was a moment of silence. The settler decided he wasn't interested in fighting Ferus, but neither was he interested in defending himself. He took a step back from him, back toward his table, watching the pair silently. Veeka, on the other hand, whimpered slightly, staring up into Ferus's eyes.

Her voice cracked, but it was still laced with anger and pain.

"I don't know what else to do."

Everything halted. For a perfect second she was speaking for both of them, and Ferus felt his own losses scream beneath his skin, so close, just within reach if he wanted to use that pain, because simply feeling it was worse and seemed impossible ...

Anger was easy. Anger was easy, and he didn't know what else to do, either.

Only that wasn't true. He knew. It was just that it was even more difficult.

He swallowed as he watched her. Their stories were different, no doubt. But he understood the feeling. He'd been there only days ago. Still, he'd walked away: he had to remember that. Had to take certainty in that. Find some kind of strength in that because there wasn't any strength to find anywhere else, anymore.

He wasn't sure that he could. But he had to try.

He hurt so badly.

"I know", he said, voice a half whisper, and he blinked and looked away from her for a moment - then he took a chance, and moved to embrace her. "I know. I'm sorry."

There was a long moment where it seemed like Veeka might answer. Like she might lash out, or deny it. Turn her anger on Ferus, because who else could she direct to?

Who else, besides herself?

But he hugged her and she just nodded, first mutely, then with a strangled cry as she clung back to him and started to weep.

He felt his own eyes sting in response to her sobs, and he gathered her in and held her, trying to suppress his own. He felt them rise, felt the shudders, but he couldn't afford to cry. Not here, not now. Too many questions. Too much pain. He couldn't allow himself any of it.

So he swallowed thickly and brought a hand up behind her back to press his fingers into his eyes, and he took a deep breath, and he kept her close, and let her cry and tried as hard as he could to not get swept up in the tears with her.

It worked, somewhat.

But it was difficult to remain in an embrace like that, despite how long he knew he would do it. Maybe in trying to help this girl he could help himself. Hopefully.

It was alright, because Veeka felt those shudders and saw that pain. She didn't know the first thing about Ferus's grief, but it was obvious that he, too, was in pain. That he understood on some level.

Eventually she broke away, and looked away, taking a step back from him. She didn't say anything for a long moment, she certainly didn't apologize or thank him. When she did speak, most of the energy had drained from her voice.

"No one's going to remember him like I do."

He drew in a sharp breath, but then he simply nodded. He knew what she meant all too clearly. And still he told himself not to react. He couldn't afford to fall apart for anyone.

"Then you honour that memory", he said quietly. "And you do good by it."

He caught on the words, wrenched them out of himself from a place of despair and shame and guilt, but he got them out. All ripping, sharp edges. Because what he'd done ... what he'd done after Roan, for Roan, because of Roan ... Roan would have

-- no, he couldn't go there. Not if he were to remain standing.

Veeka nodded, slowly, silent again for the moment. She showed her understanding, but there was still a lot of uncertainty there.

Even the settler who had interrupted them seemed struggling to speak for a moment, wanting to say something but ultimately choosing not to.

"Okay," Veeka finally said. "He's gone. But I--I'll keep going."

"You will", he agreed, still quiet, but a little less roughly, and moved to pick the eopie feed back up and went to pay for it and the water he'd asked for.

He felt raw, and disinclined to linger, but he still made sure to perform a little small talk with Gloamer and say a goodbye to Leelee before he left.

Rooh accepted the weights easily, and he paused by her for a long moment. Then he untied her and went.

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ITT: SAD JEDI

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