Well, here we all are again. This month, I couldn’t believe the number of shrieky fangirls on the signon post. And I can say that because yes, I was one of them. It is just such an awesome prompt we have here. And I get the thirteenth! How cool is that?
6th – http://www.theworldofthewriter.wordpress.com/ – Saxon!
7th – http://musingsfromnevillesnavel.wordpress.com/ – Nevillegirl!
10th – http://erinkenobi2893.wordpress.com/ – Lannis! (And no, I’m not going to write to Anakin. Take that.)
13th – https://nasrielsfanfics.wordpress.com/ – Starlight! You are here.
14th – http://unikkelyfe.wordpress.com/ – Unikke!
24th – http://irisbloomsblog.wordpress.com/ – Audrey!
and https://teenscanwritetoo.wordpress.com/ (We’ll announce the topic for next month’s chain.)
We seem to be missing someone… Sarahtps, where are you? Don’t you know the team gets into fights without Rebecca?
Prompt: “Write a letter to a fictional couple.”
Wow. Jackpot, John. And then this is me being sneaky: I took the prompt and linked it in to a story I’d already written, namely this one. (It’s really short, barely flash-fiction: you totally have time to read it.) This post is a dream from a perhaps story, which is approximately the same as so uncanon it barely exists. So basically: I’m not writing as Rosalie (seriously, when do I ever if I can avoid it, you people?) and – like some genius’ blog title on a previous chain – I should be doing homework, but this was too awesome to pass up and I wrote it on the bus so I’m not wasting all that much time. Rock’n’roll, already.
Dear Nasriel and Kijé,
Well, it’s been two years since I heard from you. Not all that long in the grand scheme of things, I suppose. I saw little Luke in town today – for an instant, from a distance – and thought of you two and your son. I cannot fathom how any child bearing even a variant of my name could possibly be kept safe in the Galaxy in which we live, but they say that the parents know best, after all. Just so long as you aren’t living at Kegan: no child, Force-sensitive or no, would survive for long there. Come to think of it, there are a good many places I hope you aren’t.
I dreamed about you last night. At any rate, I hope it was a dream, not a vision. It was like watching a holo with the sound turned off. Do you by any chance live in a remarkably tall, narrow house, in the middle of a long row of such houses, and do you have an absurd little pocket garden with an enormous Saalisan riyo tree growing in it? I saw the boy, about three years old, rushing down the street to where Kijé stood waiting for him at the open door of the house, and I caught a glimpse of an immaculately neat entry hall, filled with sunlight and painted landscapes. I think one of them was of the waterfall in the Thousand Fountains.
I saw that Nasriel followed the boy, more slowly. She was carrying a baby girl of about the age children used to be brought to the Temple. Ae’en Te’ruis, you looked just like your mother. And Qui-Gon lied to you when he said she wasn’t pretty: your mother was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, and so are you.
Nasriel came up to the house, and Kijé came out to meet her, and swung the boy (what can you possibly call that child in public?) onto his shoulders, and kissed Nasriel. And even though I know what a disaster Jedi marriages are, I was glad to see you both so happy. Perhaps it’s different if it doesn’t have to be a secret. Perhaps it’s different if one of the Jedi was raised to be a Sentinel. I don’t know. But you looked completely content, completely wrapped up in each other and your children, as if nothing could ever touch you.
Then the truck came around the corner of the street, and the boy pointed at it and laughed. But neither of you was laughing. Nasriel handed the baby to Kijé, who took both children indoors, before coming back to stand beside his wife, and closing the door. Four clones jumped down from the truck, and the leader of them came to talk to Kijé. He didn’t so much as look at Nasriel, although Kijé had his arm around her and he couldn’t help seeing her. They talked for what seemed like a long time, and then Nasriel nodded, and clambered onto the truck.
I remember the days when you would have swung up in half a second, light as a silpa leaf, but not in my dream… and they wouldn’t let Kijé help you. And the truck drove away. I don’t know why they didn’t take you both. Mea culpa, Nasriel: you were so often on the HoloNet as a Padawan. So visible. Perhaps they didn’t know Kijé was a Jedi. Either way, he stood staring until the truck had gone, then went back inside to the children, and closed the door.
I know what it feels like when someone you love is being taken away and you know they’ll be harmed, and you can do nothing. I know. I also know what it is to be taken away. And so I pray that it was only a dream. That you are secure, and hidden. That if your children are Force-sensitive, you can teach them what they need to know to survive. That you are happy. It would be such a beautiful miracle if even two of the Temple’s survivors could be happy.
You were both so sweet and innocent in the Temple, thinking nobody knew how close you were. But in the Temple, you were more like brother and sister than husband and wife. Protecting each other. Comforting each other. Nasriel, I am eternally grateful for your friendship with Kijé, because I know I was never there for you as much as a Master should be.
When did you start to think of romantic love? It’s not an idea Padawans are taught to entertain. The life a Jedi leads is too dangerous and uncertain to ask anybody to share it, and if you have a spouse’s concerns to think of as well as your own… well, it’s a distraction from the service we are sworn to. Nonetheless, I’m glad you had each other then, and I’m glad you have each other now. Does it make it easier; having someone you can say do you remember to, someone you don’t have to lie to just to survive?
What do you call that boy?
Obviously, I have no idea where you live, or even whether you’re both still alive. So I won’t be able to send this. I doubt it would reach you without one or all of us dying for it anyway. But it has been comforting to pretend for an hour that I could still talk to you.
You are often in my thoughts. May the Force be with you, always.