Title: Where Few Tread
Fandom: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Characters: Jedi Exile (Brienna Juun), various
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: Five drabbles featuring the Exile; before, during, and after KOTOR 2.
(happy)
Brienna yanked on the brush, growling as it became more entangled in her hair. In the mirror she saw the door open and an older girl walk in.
"You're late for breakfast," the girl said.
Brienna's lip trembled. "It's not my fault."
"Don't cry, Initiate." The girl took the brush and started untwisting Brienna's blond locks.
Brienna glared at the girl's own hair, tied in a perfect white bun. "My name is Brienna."
"Nice to meet you, Brienna. I'm Atris." She smiled gently--the first happy expression Brienna had seen at the Enclave. She decided she liked Atris, and grinned back.
(sad)
Brienna lowered herself to the floor, matching her master's meditative pose. "Kreia...did you really mean what you said earlier, about people being tools?"
"Would I teach you something I did not consider to be true?" Kreia asked.
"But how can you believe that?"
Kreia lifted her head sharply, lifeless eyes glaring at her student. "Whether you accept it or not, they will always follow their own selfish motivations, not caring who they trample in the process."
"No." She touched the woman's wrinkled hand. "I'm not like that, and I don't believe you are either."
"That's where you're wrong," Kreia whispered.
(curious)
Brienna had almost made it to the door when curiosity won out as usual. She turned back towards him. "Revan, can I ask you something?"
The man looked up distractedly from his datapad. "Hmm?"
She pointed to an object on his desk. "Why the mask?"
Revan picked up the mask and traced his finger along the red and grey design. "Just a...precaution."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Precaution for what?"
"The future."
"You're really annoying when you're cryptic," Brienna sighed.
He pulled his gaze away from the mask; blue eyes clouded. Then he blinked, and grinned at her. "Yes, I know."
(angry)
Brienna edged away, swallowing hard. She backed against the wall as the man's gloved fingers slipped around her neck. She whimpered, and Sion's broken features twisted into a snarl.
"I expected more from you, Exile. Your master would surely despise you as I do if she saw how you cower in fear."
Gasping for air, Brienna reached for her lightsaber. Sion growled as the silver blade grazed his ribs. He shoved her away and grabbed his own weapon.
With the Force as her strength, she took a fighting stance.
Sion grinned nastily. "Perhaps you are not so pathetic, after all."
(content)
Brienna felt a hand shaking her shoulder, and groaned. "Don't tell me it's morning already."
"Nope." She twisted to see Atton grinning like a madman. "Hate to tell you, babe, but you snore like a bantha."
"What? I do not!"
"Do too."
"Oh yeah?" she grumbled. "Well, you have cold feet."
"You're so hot, I'm sure you can fix that," he said, snuggling against her. She shrieked as his feet brushed her leg.
"Atton Rand, I'm gonna-"
He pressed his lips to hers, cutting off her death threats.
She sighed happily when he released her. "Cheater."
"I love you too."