Mical/Exile - Silent Night
Title: Silent Night
Characters: Mical/Exile
Rating: PG
Summary: Who knows what the Exile suffers in the bitter watches of the night? Only her faithful disciple knows.
Author's Notes: A rather unhappy look at the Exile's unseen pain. My take on what the Exile does in the waning hours of the night when she thinks she's alone. Written for prompt_palooza.
Sometimes, late at night, he can hear her crying.
It isn't because she's loud, quite the contrary, actually. She is silent when she weeps, but the pain radiates from her in waves. He has always been sensitive to her feelings, having been drawn to her like a magnet. But now, with his Force sensitivity having been awakened, all he can ever seem to hear, see, feel...is her. His senses swim whenever she's near, and whenever she is far from him, he aches.
Carina tries to be strong, Mical knows. Being in exile for so long has hardened her, but she is still human and she still suffers as any human would. It isn't easy for her to be surrounded by people who care about her after being alone for so long. But he knows that that isn't even the real problem. No, the real problem is that her companions rely on her more than they should, more than she'd like. They trust her, they would follow her to the end, and most would even die for her.
That is what scares her the most: the fear of letting them down.
Malachor V changed the Exile, and not for the better. Ever since Malachor V, she has been afraid to let anyone inside. After witnessing her friends, her brethren, fall time and time again in battle and then to return to the Jedi Council only to be shunned...She has learned to shut relationships out. To stanch the bleeding, she has severed the source of the pain altogether.
But the wound is still there. The memories are still there. The pain is still there. He can see it. She tries to hide it behind all the kind acts, the smiles, the jokes...But it is there, regardless. He can see it in her emerald eyes whenever she drops her guard--which has become more of a rarity as of late. He tries to do what he can to help her, to assuage her fears and soothe the pain. But not even his healer hands can heal the wound that the Exile carries.
A hitch in her breathing...he can sense it even from where he is in the medbay. She is trying to stop the tears streaming down her face; she is trying to stop the pain by herself. But she is failing. She doesn't want to ask for help for she is too proud for that. To ask would be admitting her weakness...and she cannot show any weakness, not in front of the crew that relies so heavily upon her leadership.
He notices all these things that she, herself, refuses to acknowledge. He has always been observant, but even more so because he loves her. He has always loved her. He always will love her. There are times when he believes that she returns his feelings...Those rare moments where she'll look at him with an unguarded smile or he'll catch a sparkle in her expressive eyes.
But then he remembers what she is, and what he is. And he knows it can never be. Because they are Jedi. Because they live in a time where Love is a weakness to be exploited by an enemy. Because she tries so hard to deny the things that make her human and because he is too afraid to tell her.
Sometimes, when she is crying, he thinks about going to her.
Whether it is the doctor in him, or how he feels about her, he just wants her pain to stop. There is a part of him that wants to take her into his arms and assure her that everything will be fine. He knows that the Galaxy isn't as simple as that, but his optimism and hope are the only things that keep him together. She is different from him in that regard; she is uncertain and sees the Galaxy in a different view.
The Exile has seen much, too much, perhaps. She knows the horrors of war: she has seen innocent life snuffed out far before its time and she has seen what the death and destruction can do to a person. She, herself, is an example of a casualty of war.
But she is too strong to simply give up. And that is part of the reason he loves her. She possesses a remarkable will to live, the likes of which he has never seen before...And he respects that about her. Even though he knew she would not believe him should he tell her so, she was everything that he wished he could be.
And he would do anything for her. But he knows that this is the very reason she cries. She does not want the responsibility that was forced upon her, she does not want to fail those that she loves. She puts on a brave front, but it is an act. She once told him, in one of those rare moments of fellowship, that she was shaking on the inside. He hadn't believed her at first but, lately, her words had manifested themselves physically...but only at night, when she thought everyone was asleep and could not hear her crying.
It is a disturbing thing, he reflects, to hear a warrior weep. That is what Carina, the Exile, truly is: a warrior. She is a defender of the weak, a fighter for the oppressed, and a lover of all things good in the world. She fights because she has to, not because she chooses to. It is battle that has made her strong but, even then, there is something more.
Another wave of agony assaults his mind. He briefly wonders if anyone else on the ship knows about her secret, about the tears that roll down her face in the dark of night. But the ship is still and it is quiet, there is no movement except the rhythmic sleep patterns of its occupants and the occasional whirring of a droid. No, there is no one else that feels as deeply connected to the Exile as he. And there is no one else that understands her pain as he does.
She believes loneliness to be the only way to live, but only because it is all she has known for so long.
Sometimes, late at night, he can hear her crying. And sometimes, when she is crying, he thinks about going to her.
Perhaps tonight he will.
Characters: Mical/Exile
Rating: PG
Summary: Who knows what the Exile suffers in the bitter watches of the night? Only her faithful disciple knows.
Author's Notes: A rather unhappy look at the Exile's unseen pain. My take on what the Exile does in the waning hours of the night when she thinks she's alone. Written for prompt_palooza.
Sometimes, late at night, he can hear her crying.
It isn't because she's loud, quite the contrary, actually. She is silent when she weeps, but the pain radiates from her in waves. He has always been sensitive to her feelings, having been drawn to her like a magnet. But now, with his Force sensitivity having been awakened, all he can ever seem to hear, see, feel...is her. His senses swim whenever she's near, and whenever she is far from him, he aches.
Carina tries to be strong, Mical knows. Being in exile for so long has hardened her, but she is still human and she still suffers as any human would. It isn't easy for her to be surrounded by people who care about her after being alone for so long. But he knows that that isn't even the real problem. No, the real problem is that her companions rely on her more than they should, more than she'd like. They trust her, they would follow her to the end, and most would even die for her.
That is what scares her the most: the fear of letting them down.
Malachor V changed the Exile, and not for the better. Ever since Malachor V, she has been afraid to let anyone inside. After witnessing her friends, her brethren, fall time and time again in battle and then to return to the Jedi Council only to be shunned...She has learned to shut relationships out. To stanch the bleeding, she has severed the source of the pain altogether.
But the wound is still there. The memories are still there. The pain is still there. He can see it. She tries to hide it behind all the kind acts, the smiles, the jokes...But it is there, regardless. He can see it in her emerald eyes whenever she drops her guard--which has become more of a rarity as of late. He tries to do what he can to help her, to assuage her fears and soothe the pain. But not even his healer hands can heal the wound that the Exile carries.
A hitch in her breathing...he can sense it even from where he is in the medbay. She is trying to stop the tears streaming down her face; she is trying to stop the pain by herself. But she is failing. She doesn't want to ask for help for she is too proud for that. To ask would be admitting her weakness...and she cannot show any weakness, not in front of the crew that relies so heavily upon her leadership.
He notices all these things that she, herself, refuses to acknowledge. He has always been observant, but even more so because he loves her. He has always loved her. He always will love her. There are times when he believes that she returns his feelings...Those rare moments where she'll look at him with an unguarded smile or he'll catch a sparkle in her expressive eyes.
But then he remembers what she is, and what he is. And he knows it can never be. Because they are Jedi. Because they live in a time where Love is a weakness to be exploited by an enemy. Because she tries so hard to deny the things that make her human and because he is too afraid to tell her.
Sometimes, when she is crying, he thinks about going to her.
Whether it is the doctor in him, or how he feels about her, he just wants her pain to stop. There is a part of him that wants to take her into his arms and assure her that everything will be fine. He knows that the Galaxy isn't as simple as that, but his optimism and hope are the only things that keep him together. She is different from him in that regard; she is uncertain and sees the Galaxy in a different view.
The Exile has seen much, too much, perhaps. She knows the horrors of war: she has seen innocent life snuffed out far before its time and she has seen what the death and destruction can do to a person. She, herself, is an example of a casualty of war.
But she is too strong to simply give up. And that is part of the reason he loves her. She possesses a remarkable will to live, the likes of which he has never seen before...And he respects that about her. Even though he knew she would not believe him should he tell her so, she was everything that he wished he could be.
And he would do anything for her. But he knows that this is the very reason she cries. She does not want the responsibility that was forced upon her, she does not want to fail those that she loves. She puts on a brave front, but it is an act. She once told him, in one of those rare moments of fellowship, that she was shaking on the inside. He hadn't believed her at first but, lately, her words had manifested themselves physically...but only at night, when she thought everyone was asleep and could not hear her crying.
It is a disturbing thing, he reflects, to hear a warrior weep. That is what Carina, the Exile, truly is: a warrior. She is a defender of the weak, a fighter for the oppressed, and a lover of all things good in the world. She fights because she has to, not because she chooses to. It is battle that has made her strong but, even then, there is something more.
Another wave of agony assaults his mind. He briefly wonders if anyone else on the ship knows about her secret, about the tears that roll down her face in the dark of night. But the ship is still and it is quiet, there is no movement except the rhythmic sleep patterns of its occupants and the occasional whirring of a droid. No, there is no one else that feels as deeply connected to the Exile as he. And there is no one else that understands her pain as he does.
She believes loneliness to be the only way to live, but only because it is all she has known for so long.
Sometimes, late at night, he can hear her crying. And sometimes, when she is crying, he thinks about going to her.
Perhaps tonight he will.