[NSFW] The Only Way Out Is Through

[oh_what_can_it_mean]

I did it! I finished the big two-part fic! Of course, like every other story I finish I'll be nitpicking it for the rest of my life, but at least it's complete enough to post.

Note: Part One takes place 2 to 6 months before Faithful Friends and Cin Asks Ara. Ara is 30 in that story. Part Two takes place years before, when Ara is a 24-year-old padawan. Ara won't learn until sometime in her 30s that the age of majority for a Sphinxian peasant on Sphinx is 25, but Ara is listed as simply "human" on her Coruscant citizen papers and was legally an adult at 18, but since she ages at about 2/3 the rate of a baseline human she didn't get her sexuality training until she was 22, and even then it took agreement from Ara's healer, her therapist, and her master, and them all agreeing that there were no contraindications in the Force. That might seem like a nitpicky thing, but in the unlikely event that another human ever reads this, I wouldn't want them to be upset that they read an underage fic without being warned. (So far, my Sphinxian canon is that all the other Sphinxians who've been in the order--less than 20 in the millennium that Sphinx has been an insular culture--have been from the aristocrat class, who age at 1/3 the rate of baseline humans, and those families were able to send their Force-sensitive babies to the Temple with notes on their care, but only sent notes on that baby's caste. Ara was able to leave Sphinx because an AgriCorps Jedi who was working with Ara's parents and other peasant farmers noticed that Ara was Force-sensitive, but the AgriCorps Jedi in question was clueless dork Ben Lars, who was more interested in agricultural machinery than in learning anything about Sphinxian culture.)

*looks up* Wow, again with the long, detailed, nitpicky author's note. Better clear than unclear, I guess.

Anyhow...

The Only Way Out Is Through, Part One

Author's note: This is a Council Tea like in ATLL Chapter 2, but it takes place two to three months before Faithful Friends. There are multiple other salons going on in the area, per Chapter 2.

---

     The Council Tea is held in a cozy nook lit by small votive candles in carved niches in the wall. Masters and Knights sit on cushions on the floor around a long, low, rectangular table. Present are Masters Yoda, Windu, Billaba, Nu, and Gallia, and Knights Melnau, Norwal, and Tachi, among others.

     Knight Siri Tachi sees Skywalker and LNF coming to crash the party only a second after Ara does, and she pauses in her criticism of Ara to say, "I got this," then forcibly takes the two younglings back to the creche.

     "What was that about?" Jitters asks Ara.

     "Chick code," replies Ara. "Girls protecting girls and all that Urban Scout Girl stuff. Siri was part of the rescue mission from the waking nightmare in which LNF was conceived, and LNF not leaving me alone is upsetting on multiple levels, so if she can prevent a survivor from being re-traumatized, she will, no matter how much she personally dislikes me." She knows that her boy knows most of that already, but wants to add context for the others who were listening.

     "It sounds like she's just being a Jedi," says Jitters.

     Ara nods. "Oh yeah, that too. She may have no chill and less tact, but she's a True Knight." She retrieves her comm unit from an outer pocket of her backpack.

     Jitters nods at the comm in Ara's hands. "Texting Master Drallig anyway?"

     Ara closes her eyes and sighs, chastened. "Damn, you're right. I called on him the last time, and the time before that. He must think I'm just using him as nightmare repellent at this point."

     On Ara's other side is Master Nu, and on Master Nu's other side is Master Yoda, who takes an interest in their conversation.

     "Repel nightmares?" the diminutive Grand Master asks, leaning around the Head Librarian as best he can. "Brandish lightsaber Cin does?" There's light laughter from those in earshot.

     Ara blushes, but replies, "In a manner of speaking, Master. Spending the night with Master Drallig means the dreamless sleep of the physically exhausted."

     "That wasn't my experience," Master Billaba interjected. "I was tired, sure, but I wouldn't say exhausted."

     Master Gallia chimes in, "He does have exceptional intuition, though. He'd be able to tell what she needed."

     "And have the stamina to pull it off," adds Master Nu, with a little smirk.

     "Master Jo, no!" Ara wails dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. "I'm scarred for life!" She does get a few laughs.

     Master Windu rubs tiredly at his face, seeming to not want to know any of this shaavit.

     Master Nu notices the discomfort of her friend and colleague, turns on a Temple coin, and says imperiously, "There is a time and place for this sort of salacious gossip--"

     Ara's heard this before, and joins in with a grin, "--and it's the Archives break room at lunch time."

     The mood is lightened, but Master Yoda is apparently not done being nosy. He gets Ara's attention and says, "Wearing yourself out easy is. Why Cin special is?"

     Ara takes a moment to find the right words, then says, quietly, "He feels like safety, physically and in the Force. I know that true safety is an illusion, but for those few hours, it feels real."

     "And mind, you think he would?" interrogates Master Yoda. "Happy to help, I think he would be."

     "Especially considering the nature of the help!" adds Jitters with a knowing smirk.

     "No..." Ara says slowly, still trying to think before she speaks, not wanting to overshare or embarrass herself or her Battlemaster, "I don't think he'd mind, not really, but I'd rather it just be fun, you know? Just sharing joy with someone I really like, like with my other friends with benefits. Throw in the holding off of nightmares, and it adds this feeling of...I'm not really sure how to put it..."

     "Service?" suggests Jitters.

     Of course that's where your mind went, Ara sends fondly through their dynamic bond, then she smiles and says, "Close, but not quite."

     "Of...doing a favor," Ara continues, directing her words at Master Yoda, "and how that affects the enthusiasm aspect of enthusiastic consent."

     "I guarantee you, enthusiasm is not an issue," Jitters counters. "I mean, I can't actually speak for your other friends with benefits, but I'm pretty sure they'd all agree."

     It's at this moment that Siri returns to the gathering. She nods seriously at Ara, who nods seriously back, then Siri joins a different conversation that's happening at the other end of the table.

     "Care about him, you do," Master Yoda observes.

     "Of course I do!" insists Ara. "'Friend' is more important than 'benefits,' after all. It'd sure be nice if Katarn Clan could keep its ducklings in a row for, I dunno, a month, so we could see how things shake out without the weekly jump scares. I mean, we're both busy active-duty Jedi who have pre-existing social lives, but it'd sure be nice to be able to go to a restaurant or a concert or a museum once in awhile." She looks down at her comm unit. She'd opened the text messaging application but done nothing else since Jitters had spoken up.

     "Tell him this, you should," said Master Yoda. "Surprise you, he might."

     "And let me know if you're not spending the night so I can make sure you get home okay," mutters Jitters.

     "You are never gonna let that go, are you?" mutters Ara at the same low volume.

     "Nope."

     Ara reads the last two messages that she'd exchanged with Battlemaster Drallig, from a week ago. [Do you have any plans tonight?] from her, and [Come on over.] from him. When a new message appears in the text chain right before her eyes, she startles noticeably.

     Cin: [Do you have any plans this evening?]

     "Are you alright?" Jitters asks softly.

     Ara rests her head on Jitters's arm and shows him the message. "Yeah, just surprised," she says. "Though maybe I shouldn't be. Do you mind...?" she trails off. Tonight was supposed to be their monthly chill time and dynamic check-in, but she's feeling a gentle nudge toward her Battlemaster.

     Tomorrow night? Ara sends apologetically. This feels important.

     I trust you, ma'am. Tomorrow night is fine, Jitters sends back, then jokes out loud, "His ears must be burning."

Ara: [No plans. What time?]
     [Also, are your ears burning? I was just talking about you.]

     Jitters reads all of this over Ara's shoulder and giggles helplessly at her cheekiness.

     Cin: [I'm having dinner with Master Clearing later, and after that I'll be wanting a distraction. I'll send you a text when it's almost over, if that's alright.]
     [Do I even want to know?]

     Ara: [Sounds like a plan. And I'll tell you all about it in person. I could use a distraction too (almost jump scare a little bit ago). Do you want to talk about it?]

     There’s a long pause after this, during which Ara wonders if she's overstepped her bounds.

     "You should tell him what Master Gallia said about his intuition," Jitters suggests. "That's a hell of a compliment coming from her," He speaks softly, but Master Gallia hears him anyway, and she flashes him a brief but brilliant smile. Jitters blushes and ducks his head.

     "No kidding," Ara agrees, still mostly distracted, "that's one for the metaphorical trophy cabinet, next to all the silver medals."

     "Silver medals?" Master Windu asks, seemingly against his better judgment, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

     "Never comes first, Master Windu," Ara explains, chewing on a thumbnail, not looking up from the text exchange.

     "You're the worst," replies Master Windu, perfectly deadpan.

     Ara chuckles, but before she can reply (with only the amount of sass that she'd get away with at the office) that he wasn’t the first to say so and wouldn’t be the last, her Battlemaster finally replies:

     Cin: [But...we don't do that.]

     Ara worries that she's responding too quickly, but she's more worried that she's misunderstood the nature of their friends-with-benefits dynamic entirely:

     Ara: [Don't we? You've let me trauma dump on you plenty of times.]
     [More often than I care to admit.]

     After a much shorter pause:

     Cin: [Okay, *I* don't do that.]

     Ara: [You *could* though. You don't have to, of course. Offer stands, but I won't bring it up again unless you bring it up first. "With benefits" doesn't negate "friend," after all.]

     Cin: [Point taken, and thanks. I'll text you when I'm getting ready to leave the South Terrace.]
     [And you can tell your twitchy little friend that you're welcome to spend the night.]

     Ara and Jitters share a horrified look.

---

     A few hours later, Ara is in her Battlemaster's quarters, straddling him, scratching lightly at the back of his neck, trying to make out with him.

     "Trying" being the operative word.

     Ara leans back slightly, stilling her hands.

     "You're distracted," she murmurs, looking down at him from just above his eye level.

     "Hmm?" asks Master Drallig, blinking up at her.

     "Your undivided attention is overwhelming, and I am not overwhelmed. Therefore, your attention is divided."

     "I'm sorry," Drallig says, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "I didn't think I'd be this bad of company when I first texted you. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

     Ara gently presses her forehead to Drallig's, smiling softly. "I'm happy to just spend time with you, Battlemaster. We don't have to fuck for me to enjoy your company. I'll leave if you want me to, but just hanging out is fine with me." She wants to repeat her invitation for him to talk about what's bothering him, but she remembers her promise.

     Drallig wraps his arms around Ara and she lowers herself from up on her knees to sitting on his lap, resting her head against his chest and delighting in the feel of his heartbeat under her ear.

     They sit together like that for a long moment, but her Battlemaster's Force presence still feels restless.

     Then Ara gets a flash of inspiration and says, "I have an idea." She gets up off Drallig's lap and places a footstool right in front of the sofa with a bit of casual telekinesis.

     Ara gestures for Drallig to sit on the footstool and he obliges, then Ara sits on the sofa behind him, lower legs dangling in the air on either side of his arms, and she touches the simple tie holding up the top half of his hair.

     "May I remove this?" she asks.

     "Sure," says Drallig, his back straight but his Force presence radiating trust and openness to Ara's comforting touch.

     Ara carefully removes the hairtie (so much easier with his smooth, straight hair than with her own messy curls) and puts it around her wrist so it won't get lost, then begins to card her fingers through her Battlemaster's long hair. It's sandy blonde with the occasional strand of gray, and surprisingly soft.

     "Is this okay?" Ara asks quietly.

     "Mmm, yes," Drallig murmurs, leaning back a bit and slowly starting to unwind.

     "Would it be better if I used a brush or comb?"

     "No...this is lovely. You could use your fingernails more, if you want." He hums contentedly as Ara does so. Luna hops onto Drallig's lap and he strokes the tooka's fur gently, eyes still closed.

     They pass an hour like this, Drallig relaxing into letting himself be comforted by Ara, and Ara enjoying being allowed to provide comfort for her Battlemaster, a rare opportunity. I could get used to this, she thinks.

     Then Ara's stomach growls, interrupting the peace of the moment. Because of course it does.

     "Hungry?" Drallig asks, chuckling warmly.

     "Are you hungry?" Ara asks back. "I can just have a ration bar. Didn't you just come back from a dinner?"

     "It was more of a late lunch," he responds easily, standing and stretching.

---

     The commissary is fairly crowded when Ara and Drallig arrive. They load their trays with meat-and-vegetable stew (Drallig adds rice to his), bread rolls, mashed tubers, and large mugs of mulled cider.

     They find seats near Knight Kar-ra Sanores and their Padawan Cherrai Taamas, acquaintances of Ara's from the Archives, switch trays (Drallig isn't that hungry and Ara doesn't feel like fighting the commissary staff for the portion size she needs), and eat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

     Eventually, Drallig asks, "So how did the Council Tea go? You said you'd tell me in person?"

     "Punchline before the setup: gossip happened, and later Master Windu said I'm the worst."

     Drallig throws his head back and laughs, surprising and delighting Ara. "You probably deserved it."

     "Hey!" Ara whines, only feigning indignation. He was right, after all.

     "What's so funny?" comes a deep, rumbling voice from behind Ara. She turns to see Masters Silvanus and Bes, both riding scooters and carrying trays of food on their laps.

     Drallig explains, "Knight Melnau was about to explain why Mace thinks she's the worst." He gestures for both retired Masters to join him and the Archivists at their table and they do, both retired Masters chuckling at this explanation.

     "Well, my curiosity is piqued," says Master Bes, setting his tray on the table before helping Master Si with his. Addressing Ara directly, he adds, "You certainly have a way with words."

     "Thank you, Master Bes," Ara responds politely, then prepares to infodump.

     She turns to her Battlemaster. "The Jump Scare Twins almost made it to the Council Tea, but Siri clocked them as quickly as I did and was up and out of the room and taking them back to the Initiate dorms in a freaking instant, like she was the most recent iteration of the Wraith." She misses the knowing look that passes between the three Masters as she's deciding what to keep in and leave out of the story for succinctness and clarity, and also because she wants to share the more emotional parts--like how her Battlemaster feels like safety--in private.

     "I'd gotten my comm out of my backpack out of habit, and Jitters--Knight Norwal--asked if I was texting you again. I hadn't yet, but that was what I was about to do out of habit. And I realized, crap, I'd bothered you over the last two jump scares and worried out loud that I was using you as nightmare repellent.

     “Then Master Yoda leans into view and asks, and I remember this word for word, 'Repel nightmares? Brandish lightsaber Cin does?'"

     "Sounds like Yoda," Master Si says while most of Ara's audience laughs, but there's no other commentary so Ara keeps going.

     "Oh yes. One-liner of the day right there. And I don't want to lie and it was all adults this time, so I just said, 'In a manner of speaking, Master, a night spent with Master Drallig means the dreamless sleep of the physically exhausted.'"

     This generates a little more laughter and a few speculative looks at Drallig, who pretends not to notice.

     "And then Master Billaba says something like, 'I dunno, I was tired, sure, but not exhausted--'"

     "Oh snap," says Padawan Taamas quietly, almost reverently, and a moment later she realizes she's said this out loud. "Sorry, Battlemaster!" the young Twi'lek squeaks, cheeks turning a darker shade of blue.

     Drallig waves the comment off tiredly. "Don't worry about it, Padwan."

     "Then Master Gallia says, I don't remember the exact words, but something like, 'But he does have exceptional intuition, and he'd be able to tell what she needed.'"

     "Really!" says Drallig, flattered.

     "Really really. And then Master Jo--" Ara facepalms for a long moment, but finally puts her hand down and faces her audience. "--Master Jo says, 'and have the stamina to pull it off!'" There's more laughter at that, and at Drallig's face and ears turning slightly reddish, and Ara bulldozes through it: "And I say, 'Master Jo, no! I'm scarred for life!' Even though I totally wasn’t, I was just looking for an off-ramp from the subject, 'cause Master Windu was looking at our whole end of the table like he was regretting multiple life choices. Master Jo noticed his discomfort too, and was like, 'There is a time and place for this sort of salacious gossip,' and I'd heard this before and finished the line with her, 'and it's the Archives break room at lunch time.'" She shares a knowing look with Kar-ra and Cherrai.

     Ara turns back to her Battlemaster and continues: "And we'd been texting for most of this time, and there was a lull where I was waiting for you to answer back, concentrating more on my comm unit than anything else, and Jitters says that I should share Master Gallia's comment about your intuition, 'cause that's a hell of a compliment coming from her--"

     "It is," says Drallig emphatically, and the rest of the table nods agreement.

     "--and I was only talking to Jitters, so I said something like, 'yeah, that's one for the metaphorical trophy cabinet, next to all the silver medals.'"

     "Silver medals?" Master Bes asks, beating Drallig to the question.

     "That's what Master Windu said! And without really thinking before I spoke, I explained, 'never comes first, Master Windu,' and that's when he got extra resting scowly-face and said, 'You're the worst,' just, deadest of pan."

     Ara goes back to eating as her little audience laughs at the explanation and the punchline. Even her Battlemaster was laughing, but he was blushing again, and facepalming. She leans her head against his arm and looks up at him with big green tooka eyes, concentrating on sending a wave of affection and apology to just him, and he lowers his hand and smiles gently down at her.

     "There's nothing to apologize for," Drallig assures her. "It was a public conversation, and you made it into a funny story. Was that all of it?"

     "It was most of it," Ara replies. "The rest I'd like to expand on in private. It's all good, I promise!" she hastens to add as Drallig's face starts to fall. "I was trying not to overshare, but Master Yoda was in his Nosy Era, so..." She puts both hands up in a what can you do? gesture.

     Master Si snorts a laugh. "Master Yoda will always be in his Nosy Era."

---

     It's late when they return to Drallig's quarters, full of good food and remembered conversation.

     "So what is it that you didn't feel like sharing with the class?" Drallig asks Ara, washing his face while Ara finishes brushing her teeth.

     Ara spits out toothpaste and replies, "It was mostly that Master Yoda said that wearing oneself out physically is easy, and he asked why you were special. And I said that you feel like safety, physically and in the Force." Her eyes water and she sniffles, but she continues, "It feels selfish, as a heavy-worlder Jedi Knight with telekinesis and a lifetime of martial arts training and a laser sword, because that implies that I can't defend myself and that I’m expecting you to do so in your off time. And it's not literally that. I mean, if danger made it all the way to your quarters while we were both off duty, I'd totally go out fighting back to back with you. Besides realistically, if danger made it all the way to us, in here, without you having been called to lead the effort to repel the hypothetical danger, my occasional relaxing of situational awareness with you and my beating myself up about it would be the mootest of points because the whole Order would be fucked at that point, or at least the whole Temple."

     Her Battlemaster takes a moment to parse his lover's--no, his friend's-- nervous babble before replying, "It's not selfish to seek support or comfort. True selfishness would be to not seek help, and to then implode on the job at the worst possible moment. I'm honestly impressed, especially on days like today, with the ease with which you just ask for things, and offer things."

     Ara steps into Drallig's personal space and he pulls her close.

     "That's a kink thing," Ara says more easily, melting into his embrace. "Being really, really clear about what you want is the best way to ensure that you're only hurt in the ways you want to be hurt."

     Drallig chuckles and kisses the top of her head. "I'm glad that your extracurriculars, weird as they are, are teaching you useful life skills."

     "I also mentioned wishing that the Katarn Clan docents could have their shit together for, like, a month, so that we could see how we come together when it's not just one of us distracting the other. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy making out and hooking up with you, but if you're interested, I'd really like to try just socializing with you, like we did this evening. At the Council Tea I mentioned a concert or a restaurant or a museum, but it could be other stuff. I just..." Ara looks down at as much as she can see of the floor while she's pressed up against her Battlemaster. "...I like you a lot, and it'd be nice if we could do actual friend stuff sometimes."

     Drallig's smile, when she looks up, is soft and quiet, but it reaches his eyes, which shine with happiness.

     "I think we can manage that," he says in a near-whisper.

---

     "Today was Master Clearing's life day," Drallig says quietly into Ara's hair as they drift towards sleep. Ara would like to turn around in his arms and meet his eyes as he speaks, but she senses that it's easier for her Battlemaster to unburden himself this way. "He's been displaced in time for decades now, and I've grown used to the wandering attention, and repeating entire conversations more than twice, and the occasional random dire bit of information about the future, but it's still hard to see, because I can't help but compare the way he is now to how he was when he first chose me for apprenticeship. It's always on days like this that it hits home the most that he's never going to recover."

     "Sounds like one of those 'the only way is through' situations," Ara said on a yawn, "like you told me about back in the day...feel your feelings and all that. You have people who care deeply about you, and I am one of them. I am happy, and honored, that you asked me to be with you this evening, and that you let me be there for you...and I am ready, willing, and able to be there for you in the future... Well, as much as we can both manage with our respective schedules and obligations. But seriously, I'm just a text away."

     "You're rambling. Go to sleep."

     Ara's quiet laugh was interrupted by a yawn. "Yes, Battlemaster."

The Only Way Out Is Through, Part Two

Author's note: This story takes place when Ara was 24/16 (24 calendar years, aging at approximately 2/3 the rate of a baseline human, to be 16 developmentally), two or three days after she asked Obi-Wan on a date and he turned her down.

---

     Ara is in a small workout room off the main gym, whaling on a heavy bag. She's chosen this room because it has gravity plating, and she's set the gravity at a full two G's, hoping that the slightly-more-than-Sphinxian-standard gravity (which is 1.75G) will help her burn off her negative emotions a little faster.

     THUD.

     I thought maybe we could walk around Aleut's, then get dinner at the Alisandre.

     THUD.

     At the Alis--I'm sorry, Ara, but I'm not really interested in anyone in that way.

     THUD.

     In what way?

     THUD.

     Romantically. Or, um, sexually. And--I'm so sorry, but I've always seen you as a little sister. I mean, I see all of my creche-mates as siblings, but when you showed me your Deep File that said that it was my father that brought you to the Temple, that feeling was reinforced.

     THUD. THUD. THUD.

     Okay...but why a little sister? I'm two years older than you.

     THUD-THUD-THUD.

     It's easy to remember that you're a slow-aging heavy-worlder when you see it first-hand over almost two decades.

     THUD.

     Fair enough. If you'd said size, I'd have kicked you in the shin.

     THUD.

     [slight laughter] So...we're good?

     THUD. THUD.

     Yeah, we're good...you know that being your little big sister, or whatever, means I get to bust your chops about, like, everything, right? ‘Cause I can be a real brat when I put my mind to it.

     THUD-THUD-THUD.

     It also means I get to be an overprotective big little brother. I'm not really seeing a downside here.

     THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD--

     "Padawan Melnau!"

     Ara stops, lowering her arms, breathing hard, looking for the source of the shout. She turns to see the translucent bluescale image of Battlemaster Drallig, arms crossed and looking unimpressed.

     "Battlemaster," she pants, giving a quick bow. "Is something wrong?"

     "I was about to ask you that," says Drallig. "Your hands are bleeding."

     Ara looks down at her hands. Her knuckles are bloody. "Huh. So they are." She starts to heal them.

     "What has you so upset?"

     "It's stupid," Ara replies sullenly, shuffling her feet and looking away.

     Drallig shrugs. "So tell me a stupid story."

     After some hemming and hawing, Ara starts to talk. "I'm aromantic. Or at least I'm on the aromantic spectrum. Or I thought I was. I think I still am. But a couple of months ago, I realized I'd developed romantic feelings for someone. It was a surprise, but an exciting one. So a few days ago, I asked the person out, and they turned me down."

     "I'm sorry to hear that, padawan. The first rejection is always the worst."

     "I sure hope so, because that sucked. Especially when they said they saw me as a little sister."

     "Oh, ouch."

     "Yeah. So I kept my sh--um, act together, and went back to my room, and I was angry. At them. And I cried it out while screeching out the world's bitchiest violin piece for what must have been hours, because when I came out of my bitchy music fugue state my arms were sore and there was a note from Master Jo saying that she was spending the night--um, with you."

     "That explains a lot," Drallig mutters, chuckling.

     "So I took a shower, and tried to meditate, and cried some more, and wound up staying up all night composing an actual, performable violin piece, and I was super cranky the next day so Master Jo stuck me in a translation room working on a project that didn't have a looming deadline, and in the quiet of the translation room, I realized how shitty--sorry, Battlemaster--how awful it was of me to be so angry at someone not returning my feelings. I mean I, of all people, should know that no-one owes you affection, or even attention. Not in this context, anyway. So I've been mad at myself ever since. I haven't been able to concentrate on meditation, and every time I release my negative emotions into the Force, they just rebound an hour later!"

     "That's adolescence for you," says Drallig. "You're twenty-four, so developmentally, what, sixteen? This is totally normal. Your feelings will run their course in their own time whether you like it or not. The only way out is through. Your self-control will improve with age and practice, and in the meantime, you've chosen to vent your emotions in ways that don't harm others or lead to the Dark Side."

     "Thanks, Battlemaster." Ara sighs, flexing her healed fingers as she looks from the (yikes, slightly bloody) heavy bag, then back to holo-Drallig. "I had hoped this would help at least wear me out, but it's just not working."

     "Why not?"

     "It's not eating up enough bandwidth. I can still think. And hitting something that can't hit back doesn't feel good, even when it's an inanimate object that was made for the purpose."

     "That's a good thing. It means you still dwell in the Light."

     Ara smiles a little at that, screws up her courage, and asks: "Battlemaster...do you have time to spar with me? You could hand me my backside without breaking a sweat, even when I'm angry and using my full strength. It'd be as safe as sparring gets, because I couldn't harm you even if I wanted to, and I really, really don't."

     "Sure," says Master Drallig, smiling kindly. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll see you in the main salle."

     A few minutes later (after cleaning her godsdamn blood off the heavy bag), they bow to each other, then spar for a long time. The Battlemaster leaves little openings for her to take advantage of, and telegraphs some of his strikes so that she can parry them. Not to let her win--and she doesn't--but so that the spar will last long enough for Ara to get her ya-yas out.

     Ara is already flushed with exertion and breathing hard when Drallig pins her to the wall, training-mode lightsaber blade nearly touching her neck, his right forearm pressing into her left shoulder, his face mere inches from hers, which is now on fire.

     "Do you yield?" he asks.

     Ara's mouth goes dry. Gods, yes, she wants to yield. She's too aroused to speak, so she merely nods dumbly. She can feel his body heat, and not just where they're touching. She's intensely aware of the immovable object behind her (the wall) and the unstoppable force in front of her (the Battlemaster). Her breath catches and her eyes widen as she looks up at the Battlemaster, pressing herself back against the wall, feeling pinned beneath his gaze.

     Drallig blinks, leaps back several Force-aided feet, a look of horror (disgust?) on his face that douses most of her inappropriate ardor like a bucket of ice water.

     Not sure what else to do, and not wanting the Battlemaster to see her start to cry, she runs away, not even stopping to grab her gym bag on the way out.

---

     Ara is dimly aware of the odd looks she gets as she runs away from embarrassment and towards her home and her master, but she doesn't pay them any mind. After all, most if not all of the people watching her flee have seen stranger things than an apparently-teenaged padawan in workout clothes running full out through the Temple.

     She nearly runs smack into the door of her and Master Jo's quarters, but it opens just in time. She does run into her master, but she doesn't bowl her over because Master Jo has had a heavy-worlder padawan for just over a decade and can handle a surprise tackle-hug with ease, which she does, hugging Ara tightly, then holding her shoulders at arm's length so that she can study her face and her Force presence.

     "What happened, sweetheart?" asks Master Jo, not hiding her concern. "I just received the strangest call from Battlemaster Drallig. He's very worried about you."

     "He is?" Ara asked, surprised (and embarrassed).

     "Of course he is! Tell me what just happened."

     Ara sighs and monologues for the second time that day.

     "Yes, master. I was hitting the heavy bag in grav to work off my anger at myself for taking Obi-Wan's rejection so badly. The Battlemaster came in via holo and we talked for a bit, then I asked to spar and we did, and he went just easy enough on me so that the spar would last longer and I could wear myself out, and it worked, but when he pinned me to the wall and asked me if I yielded, I had, um, an inappropriate reaction. I thought I was doing better at shielding, or maybe something showed on my face, but it must have been clear that I very much did want to yield, but, like, as a euphemism? I wanted him to, like,--never mind. And he jumped back like he'd been scalded. He looked horrified. Maybe even disgusted. And who can blame him? Surely a twenty-four-year-old can hold off on being perpetually horny on main for one kriffing workout.. I'm all passion and no serenity!" The tears she's been holding back since the salle spill over and Ara sobs into her hands. Ara's master pulls her into a tight hug and lets her cry it out.

     "Oh, sweetheart," her master says, "you've had to grow up so fast. Aging too quickly for the novice padawan program, but too slowly for the average human. You have twenty-four years of life experience, but your artificially-lengthened lifespan means an artificially-lengthened adolescence, and you're just going to have to be patient with your still-developing brain and body. For now, though, you should take a quick sonic shower, and I'll bring you a change of clothes. Cin is on his way here to apologize, because he thinks he scared you. He's also got your gym bag."

     Ara slaps her forehead almost hard enough to leave a mark. "I forgot my comm unit and my datapad," she says, mortified. "Wow, I'm so Archives."

     Master Jo chuckles and turns her padawan in the direction of the 'fresher. "Go. All will be well."

     Ara goes. By the time the sweat and excess body oils have been lifted from her body, she's released the remainder of her negative emotions into the Force. They'll rebound in an hour or so as usual, but hopefully Master Drallig will have come and gone by then.

     When she's satisfied that she no longer smells like multiple workouts, she changes into the simple smallclothes, tunic, and trousers that Master Jo has left her, then returns to the main living space to find Master Jo and Master Drallig seated at the kitchen table, sipping tea.

     Ara bows to both of them. "Good evening, masters," she says nervously.

     "Have a seat, Ara," says Master Jo kindly. "You're not in trouble."

     Ara sits. She pours herself a cup of tea, adds sugar, and stares into the cup while she stirs until the sugar granules have completely dissolved. Finally, she looks up at the two Jedi Masters, waiting for one of them to say something to indicate where this conversation was going.

     "Padawan Melnau, I brought you your things that you left at the salle," Master Drallig says, "but primarily I came to apologize for boxing you in like I did at the end of our sparring match earlier this evening. It was not my intention to frighten you, or to dredge up unpleasant memories."

     Ara blushes and, with a monumental effort of will, meets his eyes. "Thank you for bringing back my things. That would've been an awkward walk back, tonight or in the morning. But you didn't frighten me when you pinned me to the wall. Is that the impression you got?"

     "Your shields were pretty tight, and I didn't want to intrude upon your thoughts. Once I boxed you in, or pinned you, your breathing quickened and your eyes widened. Fear isn't the only emotion that could bring about that response, but it seemed the most likely."

     "I appreciate you giving me the benefit of the doubt, Battlemaster," Ara said, pressing a palm to the back of her neck where the short hairs were standing up, "but I really don't deserve it. It wasn't fear I was feeling with you earlier. There was a time when I was afraid of humanoid men as a category, but never you as an individual. You can be stern, sure, but mostly what I see is your kindness. I mean, Q.E.D." She nodded at her gym bag, and at his presence at her master's kitchen table. "I fled because I was embarrassed by an inappropriate reaction to the way we were both situated when you won the spar, especially after you jumped back like you'd been scalded. You looked horrified, maybe even disgusted, and I was ashamed."

     Master Drallig breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh. Is that all."

     Ara gives a slight scowl, feeling a twinge of annoyance now. "I've been all passion and no serenity ever since I got my groove back, but yes, that's all."

     "Padawan Melnau, I promise you, getting hot under the collar after a good spar is not at all uncommon. Isn't that right, Jocasta?" The Battlemaster grins at Master Jo, who rolls her eyes at him.

     "That is right," says Master Jo with a wicked grin. "I remember one time with Yan--"

     "I don't want to know!" interrupts Drallig quickly. "Melnau, you said something about getting your groove back?"

     Kriff. Ara facepalms with both hands, then sips her tea to buy time. Eventually, still blushing, she says, "This conversation doesn't leave this room?"

     Master Drallig seems genuinely interested now. "I promise," he says solemnly, a hand over his heart, his Force presence radiating sincerity.

     Ara takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "I'll try not to overshare too much, but it might happen anyway. So, um, puberty hit like a speeding ground-car when I was fifteen standard, blah blah self-exploration and learning from the senior padawans in Archives how to access age-restricted content. Apparently this is a rite of passage and I was late, for a human. I turned sixteen while captive, and afterward I was just numb in that respect. I thought those feelings and sensations were gone forever. Then, when I was eighteen, at the Sixth Night dancing, I was trying to escape a new docent who thought I belonged with the 'other'--" (she made air quotes) "--younglings in the smaller dance hall, and I ran into you, Battlemaster, with Master Yoda sitting on your shoulder."

     "I remember," says Drallig.

     "Master Yoda asked me why I wasn't out dancing, and I said I didn't want to get stepped on. I was too small to be in most people's line of sight, but too big and too heavy to ride around on anyone's shoulder." Ara looks at Master Jo for this part: "And Master Drallig suggested that if Master Yoda were standing on my shoulders, we'd be at about the height of the average humanoid. Master Yoda mentioned that he was heavier than he looked, and I was like, 'so am I!,' you know, just happy to have something in common with him. And Master Drallig's like, 'eh, she's Sphinxian, she can handle it,' like a verbal shrug." She turns to Drallig now: "And I say, 'and this is why you're my favorite instructor,' and you say--"

     "'Because I remember your species?'" Drallig recites the line along with her.

     "Yes, that," says Ara. "But it was mostly about remembering the slow-aging thing and not treating me like a particularly dim-witted baseline human like so many of my other instructors. So anyhow, Master Yoda is standing on my shoulders and, sure enough, he's slightly above eye level with Master Drallig. We head out onto the dance floor, and I still can't see shaavit but backs and elbows, but Master Yoda can see more, so he kinda steers me using my hairties like handlebars--"

     "I was wondering why you went with high pigtails when you were trying not to look like a youngling," recalls Master Jo.

     "It seemed weird to me too, but it felt right in the Force when I was getting ready. I guess that was why. But he was basically piloting me like a mech suit and I was feeling joyful, and then it was like--you know when you're combing your hair or running your hand through it and you tug on a few individual strands, and it hits a nerve?"

     Both masters nod.

     "So that happened. Master Yoda pulled my hair accidentally and it sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body, and I hadn't thought I was even capable of such a sensation anymore, and this was with Grand Master Yoda, and surrounded by hundreds of people, nearly all of them Force-sensitive, and I panicked. Master Yoda piloted me off the dance floor and into a quiet alcove, and he talked me down from my panic attack, and then he told me to go home and 'practice self-care.'" She does a brief imitation of Master Yoda's voice with the last couple of words, and turns to her master. "He said that you and Master Yan were still dancing and that he'd buy me time. And when Grand Master Yoda tells you to go fuck yourself..." Ara shrugs, raising both hands in a what can you do? gesture. "I asked Master Yoda if we could pretend this never happened, and he agreed, so I think of this as The Sixth Night That Never Happened."

     "That night makes so much more sense now," says Master Jo thoughtfully.

     By this time, the tea that hasn't been consumed has gone cold. Master Jo walks Master Drallig to the door while Ara clears the table and washes the dishes. She notes a gap of at least a minute between the sound of the front door sliding open and the sound of it sliding shut, but she doesn't try to eavesdrop. She's curious, but after the past few hours--the past few days, really--her energy and her give-a-damn are severely depleted. All she wants now is to get off, then get some sleep, but she doesn't want to do any of the work.

---

     Ara asks Master Jo for permission to spend the night with Jitters, which is granted. Then she calls Jitters and tells him that she wants to take out her sexual frustrations on him. Jitters obtains permission from Master Bert for Ara to spend the night, then relays the news to her with the enthusiasm she's come to expect in the past few months, since they began their dominant/submissive dynamic.

     They've agreed that, for now at least, this is a "starter" dynamic, to try out the roles and see what they do and don't like, and to see what's feasible in a kink dynamic while still being Jedi. And since they're both padawans, Ara's dominance is tempered by rules established by both of their masters, Master Jo worried that her padawan will be spoiled by having a service-oriented partner who's ready and willing to do all her chores, and Master Bert worried that Jitters will be taken advantage of. Both masters are worried that their padawans will become codependent, but there are no contraindications in the Force or from Healer Vygor (who is, coincidentally, therapist to both of them), so they're allowing the experiment.

     Jitters answers the door before the door chime has finished ringing, and he ushers Ara excitedly into his bedroom, giving her just enough time to say hello to Master Bert before the bedroom door closes.

     She disrobes in seconds and flops gracelessly onto Jitters's bed, putting her forearm over her eyes to block out the ceiling light. Jitters rushes to dim the light to its lowest 'on' setting, then kneels before his mistress.

     "I'm really horny, but I'm also really, really tired," Ara says pre-emptively, "so if I fall asleep, just know that it's exclusively a 'me' problem."

     "Yes, ma'am. What would you like me to do?"

     "I want you to work me open, then fuck me hard, but slow."

     Jitters looks away out of habit, but turns back to meet Ara's eyes. "I don't know how long I'll last like that."

     "You'll last until I come, because I told you to--ohh, yes," Ara trails off as the first finger slides into her already wet cunt. "Or until I fall asleep. Whichever comes first." She yawns even as she arches her back when Jitters inserts a second finger.

     "So how did Senior Padawan What's-his-face get you hot and tired?" Jitters asks casually, wiping his fingers on the bedsheets and sliding into her with one smooth movement. Ara shivers with delight at the initial penetration.

     "Not directly him this time. Master Drallig stopped me from injuring my hands on the heavy bag, then we sparred, and it was good." Ara lazes on her boy's bed and lets him fuck her just as she ordered. She's not meeting his thrusts but idly running her fingers up and down his torso, just enjoying the feel of him. "He won, because of course he won, and he pinned me to the wall, and he said, 'do you yield?' and I'm thinking, 'hells yeah I wanna yield,' but of course I can't say--hey, what's wrong?"

     "Nothing's wrong, ma'am."

     "Then why have you raised your shields?"

     "I just want to please you, ma'am, I'm happy to be used for your pleasure." But his face betrays his discomfort, and his thrusts have become shallow and erratic.

     Fuck, Ara thinks, mentally facepalming. I fucked up. But how? The negative emotions that she'd released in the shower are starting to rebound, adding to Ara's feeling of being emotionally wiped out, but her boy is upset and it's her fault.

     "Stop," Ara commands, and Jitters does, hovering awkwardly above her until she nudges him to lay down on his side, facing her.

     "Look at me." Jitters does. His breath is coming in little hitches and his eyes are starting to water. "Now, lower your shields."

     "Ma'am, please."

     "I need to see what's bothering you so that I don't upset you like this again."

     "Do I have to?"

     "It's that or use your safeword, 'cause I don't have the energy to fight you on this."

     Slowly, hesitantly, Jitters lowers his shields, then starts to cry, and Ara is horrified by her own carelessness.

     She'd said that she wanted to vent her sexual frustration on Jitters, like she'd done before, but this was the first time it hadn't been over her unrequited crush, a fellow senior padawan. This was a Jedi Master who, without even meaning to, had made Jitters's mistress want to submit. And once that had percolated through the haze of post-adolescent arousal, it had generated a mix of uncomfortable emotions that he didn't know how to deal with, and it had soured the light submissive headspace he'd been enjoying.

     Ara bursts into tears, and Jitters is crying in earnest now.

     "I'm so sorry, Jitters," Ara whispers. "I should've been more clear when I called. That's on me. But you should've used your safe word as soon as you felt uncomfortable! Nobody is allowed to harm you. Not even me. Especially--!"

     There's a knock on the door.

     "Everything all right in there?" asks Master Bert from the other side of the door.

     "No," comes their simultaneous answer.

     "I messed up," mumbled Jitters.

     "What was that?" asked Master Bert.

     "I messed up!" shouts Jitters.

     "I messed up," Ara countered.

     "Why don't you two put on some pajamas?" suggests Master Bert. "We'll talk about it under the blanket fort."

     "Blanket fort?" asks Ara. Jitters is already up and dressing in sleep pants and a T-shirt.

     "The blanket fort is a judgment-free zone. We can say anything and it'll stay there." He hands his mistress her panties and his only clean sleep tunic, the bottom hem of which goes almost to her knees when she slips it on.

---

     Despite her tiredness, Ara tries to help make the blanket fort, but she's more of a hindrance than a help, so Master Bert suggests that she make hot chocolate. By the time she's done, the two engineers have made the most structurally sound blanket fort she's ever seen.

     "Wow," says Ara, impressed but not surprised. "This puts mine and Quin's blanket forts to shame."

     "Who's Quin?" asks Jitters, yawning.

     "Lineage relative," answered Ara with a sympathy yawn. "We're the same age, like, to the day, but he's baseline so...you know," with a shrug. She levitates the three mugs of hot chocolate while she ducks into the blanket fort, adding, "He put up with my childish nonsense like an actual sibling would. Or might. I dunno."

     "I don't think it counts as childish if you were actually a child," Master Bert points out.

     "Point taken. And thanks."

     "Wait," said Jitters, "is this Quin--?"

     "Oh, no," Ara said, cutting him off. "He was knighted about a year and a half ago."

     Once they're all settled and comfortable, Master Bert says, "Okay, who wants to start?"

     "I will, since I'm about to crash," Ara said, yawning again. She takes a too-hot swig of her hot chocolate, swallows it anyway, and gives the shortest summary her poor brain can come up with. "I was hitting the heavy bag at two G's to try to deal with my anger at myself at how I dealt with being turned down, then Master Drallig popped in via holo like, 'hey, your hands are bleeding.' And the bag wasn't working because it didn't take any brain power so I asked to spar and he agreed, and he went easy on me. He must have, because he won in minutes and not seconds. He said, 'Do you yield?' and my last brain cell rolled over and bared its neck."

     Master Bert chuckles at the end of the summary. "I don't blame you. You've got good taste, girl."

     Ara's making hard eye contact with Jitters when she answers with a cheeky, "I know," then continues, between yawns, "Then he jumped back and I freaked out and ran straight home without my bag or anything. He showed up a bit later and he and Master Jo and I had tea and talked, and after he left that's when I called, and I just said I wanted to vent my frustrations on Jitters and then crash, and I failed to mention what made today different from other ventings over the past couple of weeks. I called a stop as soon as I realized that Jitters had raised his shields, but by then I'd fucked all the way up. I think that's it."

     "Jitters?" Master Bert prompts.

     "Ara said she wanted to vent her frustrations on me and crash, and I was thrilled. We've done that a lot lately, but it was about this deliberately unnamed fellow senior padawan, and she was clear that she wanted a regular egalitarian relationship with him, so there was no worry about my place in her life or about our dynamic. But this time it was the Battlemaster, and he made her want to submit without even trying. Without even realizing. And that just... messed with my headspace, and I felt shitty about that, and I didn't want to make my mistress's already bad day worse by not doing what she wanted in the moment, and not speaking up about my discomfort broke The Most Important Rule and I just made things really worse, and of course I got caught and I had to be pushed to fess up, and then we both broke down."

     "That's...pretty self-aware and emotionally mature of both of you. Ara, good call on putting a stop to things as soon as you realized there was something wrong. Jitters, it's delightful how eager to please you are, but your comfort matters just as much as your partner's."

     "Gonna beat the kriffin' doormat out of you, Jay," mutters Ara into her borrowed pillow. "Fuck some confidence into you. Gonna make you know your godsdamn wor..." Ara's unfiltered game plan ends on a soft snore, and she misses her boy's simultaneous mortification and anticipation, and Master Bert's simultaneous appreciation and hilarity.

End note: The "got her groove back" story in Part Two is the (for now) settled canon version of this awkwardly-told tale from the old timeline. It references Ara becoming Master Yoda's assistant (Eller was going to retire or go on maternity leave based on what her age wound up being), but a re-reading of ATLL and Faithful Friends reminded me how much Eller was really in the story (the first reading had me mostly concentrating on franchise characters, the second got me more invested in the ms_nawilla's own OCs, especially Jitters [clearly]), and I had her become Eller's assistant, which worked out well for my story because it means more interaction with Eller, because Eller is neato.

End end note: And now that I've done a ton of edits and notes since posting this a little over two hours ago, next up is the outtakes!

Edit, 2/2/25: I wrote out the conversation between Cin Drallig and Jocasta Nu that took place while Ara was washing dishes during Part Two. It's here. Also, there are more edits coming for this story and "Cin Asks Ara." Because I never stop nitpicking and I'm my own worst critic.