[SW Fanfiction] You do or You Don't [4/?]
Title: You do or you Don't [4/?]
Summary: Barriss meditates upon her attraction to Ahsoka. Onesided Barriss/Ahsoka.
Barriss and Ahsoka depart the ship together, a few steps behind their masters. The sun is high in the sky as she takes a deep breath. Breathing outside on Coruscant usually doesn’t bring such a feeling of freshness, but it tastes cleaner here than it did on the ship, with its poorly-circulated air, and fresher than it did when they left the battle -almost anything tastes better than thick, cloying air ripe with the scent of saber-scorched droids and the blood of fallen troopers.
“You two won’t be needed at the briefing,” announces Master Skywalker as they head to the Temple. “We can handle it ourselves.”
“You’ve earned your respite,” adds Luminara. “Padawan, you’ll be in our quarters?”
“Yes, Master.” They really have earned it, the break awarded to Ahsoka and she (and, of course, their masters). Barriss hadn’t thought about it on the way back to Coruscant; her mind had been too occupied by her emotional revelations, but they were told before they left that, following the completion of their mission, they’d be given a break of at least two-weeks before heading back into the field. Such things have been rarer and rarer since the war began two and a half years ago, and Barriss is grateful for the chance to practice healing in a sterile, controlled environment instead of out on a messy, high-stakes battleground.
She can’t deny that it complicates things, though. It’s to her benefit that she has time to dissect her emotions for Ahsoka instead of leaving them to weigh down on her mind, throwing her concentration off-balance, but they’ll inevitably cross paths in the Temple; probably spar together, and maybe end up in the same lectures. Barriss doesn’t know how she’ll deal with Ahsoka’s presence now that she’s aware of her infatuation.
Something pinches her arm, and she jumps. “I said, want to walk back to my quarters with me? I’d go to yours, but I think that mine are closer.”
“Oh -of course. I’ll come with you.” She rubs her arm, skin prickling where Ahsoka grabbed her.
Their walk back isn’t very long, and Barriss was expecting it to be spent in silence. Ahsoka has other plans, though, and she keeps up a steady stream of non-consequential chatter. They end up spending the brief walk discussing the classes they’ll be attending during their sabbatical (naturally, Barriss’ focus more on maintaining a bedside manner that becomes a Jedi, while Ahsoka’s are about the latest class of droids deployed by the Separatists, and how to best fight them).
“I’ll see you later,” Ahsoka says cheerfully as she punches in the code to unlock her door. “Do you want to spar later? The day after tomorrow, maybe; I need some time to relax before I get back to my classes and dueling.”
“I’d like that. Shall we meet at the arena at our usual time?” They had taken to practicing their lightsaber combat around 1600 when they were in the Temple together since their noon classes were over by 1500, and any evening ones didn’t begin until 1700.
“Of course. See you then!” Ahsoka smiles at her, and Barriss’ heart skips a beat. She does her best to respond in the same manner, but she knows that her weak grin probably looks more like she’s fighting nausea.
You’re acting like a lovesick child, she thinks on the walk back to her own quarters. Has she been behaving like this without realizing it, or has the sudden awareness of her infatuation really affected her actions so much? Part of her wishes that she could go back in time to analyze her behavior before the ship ride home.
She takes the turbo-lift up to where her quarters are. It feels good to be back here in the Temple. Close to two months have past since she’s been on Coruscant, and although a Jedi isn’t supposed to hold one place closer to her heart than another, the Temple has been like her home since she was very young. Thinking of it as simply a place to touch base is something she’s been trying to train herself to do, but old habits die hard.
The apartment that she shares with Master Unduli is unchanged. Cleaning droids keep the place spotless; there isn’t even a layer of dust to indicate that they’ve been gone.
Barriss enters her sleeping room and shrugs off her heavy robe, shutting the door behind her. It’s nice in here, the temperature always controlled to the slightly-warm degree that she finds comfortable.
She crosses her legs under her as she takes a seat on the floor and breathes in deeply. Relaxing her mind, she levitates herself several centimeters off of the floor. She hasn’t performed a floating meditation in some time, and she really needs the guidance from the Force now. Knowing that Master Unduli won’t be back from the briefing with the Council for at least a half hour, she lets herself slip into a deep meditation, focusing on the question that’s been burning in her mind ever since she realized her feelings for Ahsoka: What next?
*
A knock on her door draws Barriss from her meditation, and her Master’s clear voice calls out, “Barriss? May I join you?”
“Always, Master,” Barriss replies. She lowers herself to the floor and stretches her arms, stiff from remaining in her lap for so long. In the back of her mind she wonders how long she has been engulfed in the Force; she has no chrono in her room, and with the shades drawn, she has no view of the sky to see where the sun currently lies.
“Your mind is heavy,” says Luminara as she pulls the door closed behind her and takes a seat upon the floor. She folds her legs into a meditative position. “It is rare for us to have such a break from the war; I would expect you to take advantage of it, to catch up on your lessons, or to continue training with Master Che and the rest of the healers. Instead, you have been brooding since we arrived back on Coruscant.”
“I find that meditation helps me to focus myself and to relax,” she answers, avoiding the unspoken question.
“It does,” agrees her Master. “I have no disagreement with you there. But I must ask what you need to focus so keenly on. Twelve hours of meditation, I would think, should be more than enough time to reflect upon whatever problems you are dealing with. If something is really so serious that it requires more time than that, I would expect you to confide in me.”
“Twelve hours?” She winces. Half a day’s time on Coruscant, and if it was approaching noontime when they landed, then it must be almost a new morning now. That long, and the meditation was essentially useless. The Force was comforting, of course, and it calmed her greatly, but she has no guidance whatsoever, not the slightest clue on whether to approach Ahsoka about her feelings or not.
Barriss isn’t foolish; she knows that the Force isn’t like the Archive’s database. You cannot just sit down, make a few keystrokes, and expect to have all of the answers to your problems. It takes time, and when you do manage to draw some information from your meditations, more time is often needed to ponder upon what you have learned. Twelve hours is extensive, though, especially considering that she has gained nothing from it. “I’m sorry, Master Unduli. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”
Luminara nods. “I understand, Padawan. I’m not angry that you were meditating. You have a fortnight off, after all, and I know that you’ll catch up on your lessons during that period. I’m simply concerned about what you would be mulling over for so long. Is there something that you wish to talk about, Barriss?”
She hesitates. If meditation has proved useless, then talking to her Master is probably the next logical step -but she needs to tread carefully; doesn’t want to admit that it’s Ahsoka she has feelings for; Ahsoka, the girl she’s gone on missions with ever since they became friends on Geonosis, who Luminara knows and trusts, who’s supposed to be nothing more than a valued colleague. That, and it’s hard to admit that she’s developed feelings for anyone. Doing a thing so explicitly against the Jedi way is not how Barriss prefers to act.
“Master, when you were younger--my age, say-did you ever…develop feelings for someone?”
Luminara studies her carefully. It takes all of Barriss’ concentration to not squirm under her gaze like a youngling being chastised for not sharing a toy. “You know, of course, that the Code forbids all emotional attachments. It is perhaps the first lesson taught to Jedi -to not be attached to parents that we never really knew; more, I suppose, to not develop links to the caretakers who raise us.
“Sexual attraction,” she continues, to Barriss’ dismay, “as I’m sure you learned, is not forbidden. We are not -have never been- a celibate organization. You’re nearing the end of your adolescent period, Barriss, and I’m not surprised that you are developing such -such urges.”
All of Barriss’ self-control can’t stop her cheeks from brightening with embarrassment. Of course she’s thought about sex, but only in a vague, distant sort of way. She’s barely even considered whether she’d rather be with a man or a woman. Being a Jedi trumps being a teenager, and her duty is far more important than whatever carnal desires might arise within her.
“But I presume that you aren’t asking whether I’ve ever been attracted to someone in a physical way -to which the answer would be yes,” Master Unduli adds with a vaguely devilish smile. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, particularly when you’re young. As Jedi we might be better at repressing those feelings than most citizens, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present.
“In any case, you want to know whether or not I’ve ever fallen in love. Is that correct, Padawan?”
“That’s correct, Master.”
Luminara looks at her, her thoughtful expression visible even in the dark room. “Might I know what leads you to ask me that?”
Barriss realizes that she’s been unconsciously slouching and fiddling with a loose string from her robe. She forces herself to let go of it and sit up straight, hands folded carefully in her lap. “Partially curiosity. It is not a topic we’ve discussed on a personal level.”
“And?”
She bites down on her lip. Lying is not the Jedi way. “I feel as though it’s a conversation that could offer me some guidance at the moment.”
“Ahh.” Luminara nods. She understands the unsaid statement. “Well then, yes. Yes, I have fallen in love before -or what felt like love, at least. Perhaps it was more infatuation.”
Barriss waits. She’s been Master Unduli’s apprentice for long enough to know when she’s finished and when she isn’t.
“It was a long time ago. I was older than you, out on one of my first missions after my knighting. Perhaps I felt reckless without my Master’s guidance.
“She was an associate of the Jedi. Not one of us, but she kept in close contact with the Temple -a professional information-gatherer, of sorts. It was a negotiation mission, to settle a minor dispute between local clans that had the potential to grow out of control. She provided me with the background knowledge that I required to understand the dispute.
“I settled the issue fairly quickly. It was, as I said, a minor one.” A small smile curves on Luminara’s lips. “But I remained on the planet -to follow up on the results of my conclusion, I claimed. Really it was because of her, and the things I felt for her. Perhaps even the things that she taught me. It isn’t something that I can easily explain.”
Barriss nods, entranced by the story. She never knew her Master to be the sort of person who allowed her wants to get the best of her. It’s a different side of her, and certainly an unexpected one.
“Of course, I left her in the end. We both had our duties to perform, after all, and mine left no room for relationships.
“I learned of her death years later. She went searching for information in the wrong places, poking after things that someone didn’t want her to know. An investigation was conducted following her murder -being an ally to the Jedi, we were involved with it, and I was offered the chance to work on it. I refused. Even after all of that time, I still expected that my old feelings would have prevented me from operating properly on that case.”
She stops, and Barriss knows that she is reflecting back. “I haven’t thought of her in a long while. Old memories, and painful ones, at that, but I suppose that they are not entirely unwelcome.”
Luminara shakes her head and comes back from the trance of buried recollections. “Is any of that relevant to you, Barriss?”
“I don’t know,” she replies truthfully. “You acted on your emotions-”
“Something rather unbecoming of a Jedi,” Luminara adds dryly.
“-but you were able to cut it off cleanly. There was a minimal risk of you running into her again. I suppose that it was irresponsible of you to behave that way, but it was at little consequence.”
“Perhaps. Certainly, it wasn’t as risky as pursuing a relationship with another Jedi would be.”
Barriss starts. In the dark, she can’t tell if Luminara really is looking at her with narrowed, shrewd eyes, or if it’s just her imagination. Her voice weak, she asks, “If that were the case... what would your advice be?”
Luminara sighs, and Barriss is certain that she’s not imagining the sympathy that she sees in her Master’s eyes. “Oh, Padawan. In that case, I would advise you to not act on your feelings at all. A relationship with another Jedi -even if it were just a physical one- will affect you more than a brief, emotional fling with a relative stranger. You know why.”
She does. If she acted on her feelings for Ahsoka, there would be consequences, and likely major ones. They couldn’t avoid each other after the inevitable breaking-off of their (hypothetical) relationship. She could end up valuing Ahsoka’s safety above that of someone else if they were on a mission together. And those are just off the top of her head. If she let herself mull over it she could doubtlessly come up with many more. “I do.”
Her Master sighs again and stands up. To Barriss’ surprise, she drops a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It is hard. You know that I wouldn’t dare lie about that. But if you pursue a relationship with a Jedi, you will get hurt. Eventually, it might hurt others -and that would pain you, I know. I don’t want to see that happen, Barriss. Repressing -rather, releasing, or even better, destroying- your feelings will do you the most good in the end. As difficult as that might be.”
With that Luminara exits, and Barriss is left alone in the dark of her room, surrounded by truths that she desperately wishes were falsehoods.
Summary: Barriss meditates upon her attraction to Ahsoka. Onesided Barriss/Ahsoka.
Barriss and Ahsoka depart the ship together, a few steps behind their masters. The sun is high in the sky as she takes a deep breath. Breathing outside on Coruscant usually doesn’t bring such a feeling of freshness, but it tastes cleaner here than it did on the ship, with its poorly-circulated air, and fresher than it did when they left the battle -almost anything tastes better than thick, cloying air ripe with the scent of saber-scorched droids and the blood of fallen troopers.
“You two won’t be needed at the briefing,” announces Master Skywalker as they head to the Temple. “We can handle it ourselves.”
“You’ve earned your respite,” adds Luminara. “Padawan, you’ll be in our quarters?”
“Yes, Master.” They really have earned it, the break awarded to Ahsoka and she (and, of course, their masters). Barriss hadn’t thought about it on the way back to Coruscant; her mind had been too occupied by her emotional revelations, but they were told before they left that, following the completion of their mission, they’d be given a break of at least two-weeks before heading back into the field. Such things have been rarer and rarer since the war began two and a half years ago, and Barriss is grateful for the chance to practice healing in a sterile, controlled environment instead of out on a messy, high-stakes battleground.
She can’t deny that it complicates things, though. It’s to her benefit that she has time to dissect her emotions for Ahsoka instead of leaving them to weigh down on her mind, throwing her concentration off-balance, but they’ll inevitably cross paths in the Temple; probably spar together, and maybe end up in the same lectures. Barriss doesn’t know how she’ll deal with Ahsoka’s presence now that she’s aware of her infatuation.
Something pinches her arm, and she jumps. “I said, want to walk back to my quarters with me? I’d go to yours, but I think that mine are closer.”
“Oh -of course. I’ll come with you.” She rubs her arm, skin prickling where Ahsoka grabbed her.
Their walk back isn’t very long, and Barriss was expecting it to be spent in silence. Ahsoka has other plans, though, and she keeps up a steady stream of non-consequential chatter. They end up spending the brief walk discussing the classes they’ll be attending during their sabbatical (naturally, Barriss’ focus more on maintaining a bedside manner that becomes a Jedi, while Ahsoka’s are about the latest class of droids deployed by the Separatists, and how to best fight them).
“I’ll see you later,” Ahsoka says cheerfully as she punches in the code to unlock her door. “Do you want to spar later? The day after tomorrow, maybe; I need some time to relax before I get back to my classes and dueling.”
“I’d like that. Shall we meet at the arena at our usual time?” They had taken to practicing their lightsaber combat around 1600 when they were in the Temple together since their noon classes were over by 1500, and any evening ones didn’t begin until 1700.
“Of course. See you then!” Ahsoka smiles at her, and Barriss’ heart skips a beat. She does her best to respond in the same manner, but she knows that her weak grin probably looks more like she’s fighting nausea.
You’re acting like a lovesick child, she thinks on the walk back to her own quarters. Has she been behaving like this without realizing it, or has the sudden awareness of her infatuation really affected her actions so much? Part of her wishes that she could go back in time to analyze her behavior before the ship ride home.
She takes the turbo-lift up to where her quarters are. It feels good to be back here in the Temple. Close to two months have past since she’s been on Coruscant, and although a Jedi isn’t supposed to hold one place closer to her heart than another, the Temple has been like her home since she was very young. Thinking of it as simply a place to touch base is something she’s been trying to train herself to do, but old habits die hard.
The apartment that she shares with Master Unduli is unchanged. Cleaning droids keep the place spotless; there isn’t even a layer of dust to indicate that they’ve been gone.
Barriss enters her sleeping room and shrugs off her heavy robe, shutting the door behind her. It’s nice in here, the temperature always controlled to the slightly-warm degree that she finds comfortable.
She crosses her legs under her as she takes a seat on the floor and breathes in deeply. Relaxing her mind, she levitates herself several centimeters off of the floor. She hasn’t performed a floating meditation in some time, and she really needs the guidance from the Force now. Knowing that Master Unduli won’t be back from the briefing with the Council for at least a half hour, she lets herself slip into a deep meditation, focusing on the question that’s been burning in her mind ever since she realized her feelings for Ahsoka: What next?
*
A knock on her door draws Barriss from her meditation, and her Master’s clear voice calls out, “Barriss? May I join you?”
“Always, Master,” Barriss replies. She lowers herself to the floor and stretches her arms, stiff from remaining in her lap for so long. In the back of her mind she wonders how long she has been engulfed in the Force; she has no chrono in her room, and with the shades drawn, she has no view of the sky to see where the sun currently lies.
“Your mind is heavy,” says Luminara as she pulls the door closed behind her and takes a seat upon the floor. She folds her legs into a meditative position. “It is rare for us to have such a break from the war; I would expect you to take advantage of it, to catch up on your lessons, or to continue training with Master Che and the rest of the healers. Instead, you have been brooding since we arrived back on Coruscant.”
“I find that meditation helps me to focus myself and to relax,” she answers, avoiding the unspoken question.
“It does,” agrees her Master. “I have no disagreement with you there. But I must ask what you need to focus so keenly on. Twelve hours of meditation, I would think, should be more than enough time to reflect upon whatever problems you are dealing with. If something is really so serious that it requires more time than that, I would expect you to confide in me.”
“Twelve hours?” She winces. Half a day’s time on Coruscant, and if it was approaching noontime when they landed, then it must be almost a new morning now. That long, and the meditation was essentially useless. The Force was comforting, of course, and it calmed her greatly, but she has no guidance whatsoever, not the slightest clue on whether to approach Ahsoka about her feelings or not.
Barriss isn’t foolish; she knows that the Force isn’t like the Archive’s database. You cannot just sit down, make a few keystrokes, and expect to have all of the answers to your problems. It takes time, and when you do manage to draw some information from your meditations, more time is often needed to ponder upon what you have learned. Twelve hours is extensive, though, especially considering that she has gained nothing from it. “I’m sorry, Master Unduli. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”
Luminara nods. “I understand, Padawan. I’m not angry that you were meditating. You have a fortnight off, after all, and I know that you’ll catch up on your lessons during that period. I’m simply concerned about what you would be mulling over for so long. Is there something that you wish to talk about, Barriss?”
She hesitates. If meditation has proved useless, then talking to her Master is probably the next logical step -but she needs to tread carefully; doesn’t want to admit that it’s Ahsoka she has feelings for; Ahsoka, the girl she’s gone on missions with ever since they became friends on Geonosis, who Luminara knows and trusts, who’s supposed to be nothing more than a valued colleague. That, and it’s hard to admit that she’s developed feelings for anyone. Doing a thing so explicitly against the Jedi way is not how Barriss prefers to act.
“Master, when you were younger--my age, say-did you ever…develop feelings for someone?”
Luminara studies her carefully. It takes all of Barriss’ concentration to not squirm under her gaze like a youngling being chastised for not sharing a toy. “You know, of course, that the Code forbids all emotional attachments. It is perhaps the first lesson taught to Jedi -to not be attached to parents that we never really knew; more, I suppose, to not develop links to the caretakers who raise us.
“Sexual attraction,” she continues, to Barriss’ dismay, “as I’m sure you learned, is not forbidden. We are not -have never been- a celibate organization. You’re nearing the end of your adolescent period, Barriss, and I’m not surprised that you are developing such -such urges.”
All of Barriss’ self-control can’t stop her cheeks from brightening with embarrassment. Of course she’s thought about sex, but only in a vague, distant sort of way. She’s barely even considered whether she’d rather be with a man or a woman. Being a Jedi trumps being a teenager, and her duty is far more important than whatever carnal desires might arise within her.
“But I presume that you aren’t asking whether I’ve ever been attracted to someone in a physical way -to which the answer would be yes,” Master Unduli adds with a vaguely devilish smile. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, particularly when you’re young. As Jedi we might be better at repressing those feelings than most citizens, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present.
“In any case, you want to know whether or not I’ve ever fallen in love. Is that correct, Padawan?”
“That’s correct, Master.”
Luminara looks at her, her thoughtful expression visible even in the dark room. “Might I know what leads you to ask me that?”
Barriss realizes that she’s been unconsciously slouching and fiddling with a loose string from her robe. She forces herself to let go of it and sit up straight, hands folded carefully in her lap. “Partially curiosity. It is not a topic we’ve discussed on a personal level.”
“And?”
She bites down on her lip. Lying is not the Jedi way. “I feel as though it’s a conversation that could offer me some guidance at the moment.”
“Ahh.” Luminara nods. She understands the unsaid statement. “Well then, yes. Yes, I have fallen in love before -or what felt like love, at least. Perhaps it was more infatuation.”
Barriss waits. She’s been Master Unduli’s apprentice for long enough to know when she’s finished and when she isn’t.
“It was a long time ago. I was older than you, out on one of my first missions after my knighting. Perhaps I felt reckless without my Master’s guidance.
“She was an associate of the Jedi. Not one of us, but she kept in close contact with the Temple -a professional information-gatherer, of sorts. It was a negotiation mission, to settle a minor dispute between local clans that had the potential to grow out of control. She provided me with the background knowledge that I required to understand the dispute.
“I settled the issue fairly quickly. It was, as I said, a minor one.” A small smile curves on Luminara’s lips. “But I remained on the planet -to follow up on the results of my conclusion, I claimed. Really it was because of her, and the things I felt for her. Perhaps even the things that she taught me. It isn’t something that I can easily explain.”
Barriss nods, entranced by the story. She never knew her Master to be the sort of person who allowed her wants to get the best of her. It’s a different side of her, and certainly an unexpected one.
“Of course, I left her in the end. We both had our duties to perform, after all, and mine left no room for relationships.
“I learned of her death years later. She went searching for information in the wrong places, poking after things that someone didn’t want her to know. An investigation was conducted following her murder -being an ally to the Jedi, we were involved with it, and I was offered the chance to work on it. I refused. Even after all of that time, I still expected that my old feelings would have prevented me from operating properly on that case.”
She stops, and Barriss knows that she is reflecting back. “I haven’t thought of her in a long while. Old memories, and painful ones, at that, but I suppose that they are not entirely unwelcome.”
Luminara shakes her head and comes back from the trance of buried recollections. “Is any of that relevant to you, Barriss?”
“I don’t know,” she replies truthfully. “You acted on your emotions-”
“Something rather unbecoming of a Jedi,” Luminara adds dryly.
“-but you were able to cut it off cleanly. There was a minimal risk of you running into her again. I suppose that it was irresponsible of you to behave that way, but it was at little consequence.”
“Perhaps. Certainly, it wasn’t as risky as pursuing a relationship with another Jedi would be.”
Barriss starts. In the dark, she can’t tell if Luminara really is looking at her with narrowed, shrewd eyes, or if it’s just her imagination. Her voice weak, she asks, “If that were the case... what would your advice be?”
Luminara sighs, and Barriss is certain that she’s not imagining the sympathy that she sees in her Master’s eyes. “Oh, Padawan. In that case, I would advise you to not act on your feelings at all. A relationship with another Jedi -even if it were just a physical one- will affect you more than a brief, emotional fling with a relative stranger. You know why.”
She does. If she acted on her feelings for Ahsoka, there would be consequences, and likely major ones. They couldn’t avoid each other after the inevitable breaking-off of their (hypothetical) relationship. She could end up valuing Ahsoka’s safety above that of someone else if they were on a mission together. And those are just off the top of her head. If she let herself mull over it she could doubtlessly come up with many more. “I do.”
Her Master sighs again and stands up. To Barriss’ surprise, she drops a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It is hard. You know that I wouldn’t dare lie about that. But if you pursue a relationship with a Jedi, you will get hurt. Eventually, it might hurt others -and that would pain you, I know. I don’t want to see that happen, Barriss. Repressing -rather, releasing, or even better, destroying- your feelings will do you the most good in the end. As difficult as that might be.”
With that Luminara exits, and Barriss is left alone in the dark of her room, surrounded by truths that she desperately wishes were falsehoods.