[For Obi-Wan]

[fifthbeatle]

The night is dark. Vanya is alone.

She's out in the woods somewhere - maybe the forest behind "'Leonard's' Grandma's house." It's so dark she can barely see what's in front of her. The wind is howling, screaming, almost whining. A clap of lightning rings through her head, so loud the sound vibrates through her teeth. The sound seems to crash into the whining sound. It's the clear resonance of a pitchfork now, only it's so loud Vanya's on her knees. Her knees hit the damp earth below with a wet slash, like her bow slicing through Allison's neck. She begins to sink into the mud below. It gurgles: the sound of Allison trying to breath. Pain rips through Vanya's head. She hunches over and clamps her arms tight around her head to block the sound.

Silence. Stillness. Now, the ground is hard and cold. Vanya lifts her head.

A window. A small sliver of a window behind a thick metal door and a pressurized lock. She looks up and sees the soundproofing foam sloping toward her like stalactites. She tries to hear something. Anything. There's nothing. As she gets to her feet, her soles don't make a sound on the floor. She calls out, but nothing happens. Even as she launches herself at the door, desperate to hear the smack of her hand on the window, there's nothing. She thinks she's breathing, but she can't hear it and she can't feel it. No air is coming into her lungs. It's like she floating in space with no helmet and she reaches for the pills in her pocket and pulls out a small wooden dinosaur. Harlan's toy. Her eyes go wider. The beat of her heart the sound of clothes rustling - it's all gone until the little wooden toy floats up from her hand. It glows sunlight yellow and emits a shrill sound. The light and the sound grow in intensity. No, no, no she can feel it. She's not breathing and she can't move and -- BOOM.

When the legs of her bed jolt up off the floor and land back down, Vanya wakes with a huge gasp for air. Everything is just out of place, knocked over. The mirror in her room is cracked. The little chair in the corner of her room has been spilled over. He body is aching, tight all over. As she jumps out of bed to check on her siblings, she catches the stark white of her skin and eyes in the fractured reflection.

This time, she thinks, she was lucky. No one was badly hurt. She wants to believe there won't be a next time, but she can't.

Vanya never goes back to sleep. She's waiting for the sun to rise and to make sure that none of her siblings are up before her. She makes the coffee and breakfast as usual, but instead of curling up to read, she stalks out to the woods. She's got her weird little mobile phone in her pocket. If something happens, she's going to be okay.

"Leonard" tried to train Vanya out of Reginald's notebook - a method that had failed spectacularly once already. Each of them were sociopaths and narcissists and Vanya can find pride in failing them. If there's one thing Vanya knows, it's study and if she can tune resonance into energy, isn't she a violin? Her love of music, her ability to make it is the power she gave herself. There is no one better suited to honing her powers than her own self.

This sustains her for about two hours. She's found a little clearing where there are fewer precarious-looking branches and sharp, spiny things that she could hurt herself with. She's a good half-an-hour walk into the woods, so she has no reason to believe anyone else is around. She's doing this right, she thinks.

In this small valley, there is an apex at the center with a rock. There sits Vanya, her legs crossed loosely beneath her, floating rocks and moss and a couple of branches around her. There's an impression in the dirt where she's managed to move larger objects with some success, but they never land quiet where she wants them to. It seems like she might be getting tired and maybe a little hungry. Without realizing it, she's following her father's principles, the ones that let her down in the first place: push faster, harder, longer. Break yourself and then go further. It is the only way to achieve greatness.

Which is not what she ever wanted. All she'd ever wanted was for her family to love her, to be one of them. And she was meant to be. Now she knows she was. She was never ordinary. Ordinary.

Ordinary. The word snaps something in her like a branch. Yes, she can feel it, a thick, loud crack like the trunk of a tree has been somehow separated. It's a heavy feeling; one she doesn't know if she can catch if it falls.

Comments

[larger_world]

"He turned out to be what we call a Sith," he answers with a nod. "One who has a connection to the Force, but has turned to the dark side of it for power. One who has been corrupted. And he was a master of manipulation."

Obi-Wan can't dwell for too long on Palpatine. The man's betrayal, the ways in which he had used Anakin, abused his trust, they're things that still anger Obi-Wan, things he has yet to reconcile during his meditation. Now is not the time to focus on it, not when he's still working through it himself.

Instead he smiles a little and says, "Before the war, it meant any number of things. We once went to a planet called Pijal, where a terrorist organization on the moon was apparently threatening the Crown Princess, though as it turned out, an arms manufacturer was framing the group on the moon. We were tasked with protecting Princess Fanry and unraveling what was happening there. Another time my Master and I were went to the planet Mandalore, while they were on the brink of a civil war. In that case we went on the run with their Duchess for an entire year, making sure the opposition to her rule couldn't reach her."

[fifthbeatle]

The first part smacks Vanya in the stomach. It sounds like the powers of the universe as Obi-Wan knows it - the Force, apparently - exists in binary opposition. It's not the first time she's thought about the moral/ethical question of having powers of unknown origin. She thinks about this quite a bit.

"You should write a book," Vanya says, good-humored enough despite the way she's just dissed herself a bit. A book by Obi-Wan about his incredible life was a much nobler profession than Vanya's tell-all about her siblings through a lens that, it turns out, was complete bullshit.

"That sounds like incredible work. It must have been a difficult transition: going from peacemaker to General."

[larger_world]

"Oh, I doubt anyone would want to read that book," Obi-Wan answers with a smile. He loves to read, is voracious in his appetite for words, especially since coming to Darrow and finding any entirely new world worth of literature and history and science opening up before him, but he very much doubts he would have any sort of writing ability.

Besides which, he's not sure how many people here can read Galactic Basic.

"It was a difficult shift," he agrees. "Though I'm trained in all kinds of combat, I much prefer to avoid violence wherever possible. I would rather try to work things out with words and negotiations, but in the midst of a war, there is truly little time for discussion."

[fifthbeatle]

Vanya is certain that tons of people would read that book. It wouldn't have to be true. The fact that it is would sell more copies. With some effort, she blinks these little thoughts away. All she wants is to learn to live with the swirling newness in her head and not despite it, but the more she ruminates, the more she realizes she's in no shape to try and make more progress today.

Plus, she cares about what Obi-Wan thinks. She would even if he wasn't Klaus' man-friend. It's not even noon and she would prefer to engage in some more pleasant conversation. Yet, there's still a lot he needs to know if he's going to try to help, whatever that entails. He needs to know about "Leonard," mostly. If they're taking on a volatile task together, he needs to know everything he's up againt, doesn't he?

She sighs because she's doing it again.

"I'm so sorry," she says after a moment, shaking her head at herself. "I'm... this is all a lot." She's talking about everything, truly: their meeting, her morning, his life and Darrow. "My brain is..." She can't even think of a word, and that makes her laugh a bit. "Empty. Maybe this is what a battle droid feels like." She looks all the way up at him, smiling just a bit.

[larger_world]

"Hm, I should think not," he answers. "They're not likely to make jokes or smile."

As they walk, he tucks his hands into either sleeve of his robe and shakes his head. "You really needn't apologize. Sometimes things are overwhelming, difficult to comprehend without time to sit with what you're experiencing and consider. That very thing is a big part of why I believe meditation is so important for Jedi. And for anyone, truly, who is looking for a bit of self-reflection and understanding."

There's a lot to be said, he believes, for learning how to control your strong emotions instead of letting them control you.

[fifthbeatle]

"Good to know," Vanya says, satisfied enough by the little bit of comfort that comes with knowing she is smarter than a fighting robot. It's not much, but it's been a long morning and she's taking comfort where she can get it.

When Obi-Wan talks, Vanya listens. She's always been an absorber of things, learning from context all of the things her father and siblings wouldn't show her. Once outside the Academy, her quest for knowledge was as dogged as it had been on the inside, but the world was wide and open and Vanya was kept narrowed by drugs and the fear of rejection. Now, here, walking with a person who may be in the unique position to help guide her toward a life worth living, she takes in every world like it's life or death. It is.

"I want to learn," she promises. It's all she ever wanted: to pursue and try. Not many - from her childhood through her education and beyond - have given her the chance to prove she's deserving of their time and wisdom. The weight her name carried and that she carried with it none of the expected gravitas because she was terrified of failure frayed their patience quickly. That's when Vanya retreats. No matter what happens, she's not going to do that. The fate of everything depends on it.

"Is there - um - anything you can teach me now? To get started? I don't mean to take up more of your time; if you're busy, I understand."

[larger_world]

In Darrow, Obi-Wan is rarely truly busy. He finds things to fill his time and he especially likes the library when he isn't with Klaus or Anakin, but beyond daily meditation, something that has been with him for as long as he can remember, he has no real routine to speak of.

Every so often he considers that he may have to get a job of sorts. Not for the financial gain, of which he has little interest, but simply for the structure of it and the feeling of contributing to a functioning society. For a man who has existed his entire life within the service of keeping the peace for an entire galaxy, to be without a purpose is especially difficult.

So at Vanya's suggestion that she might be keeping him from something, he shakes his head and smiles. "You'll find I'm never particularly busy," he admits. "I suppose first I ought to ask if you've ever tried meditation at all. I know from Klaus it's something that's known well enough in your world, but not something everyone has tried."

[fifthbeatle]

"Not really," Vanya says, focusing like she's trying to search her memory even though she knows the answer is no. She wouldn't have even known where to begin. Part of meditation is learning to observe thoughts and feelings without judging them. Until recently, she didn't really have feelings and all of her thoughts were pointy and full of doubt. For drugged, suppressed Vanya, meditation might have been a recipe for disaster. She was never supposed to look inward too hard.

"I know it's not about clearing your mind as much as... accepting it." That doesn't sound quite right, but since she's clearly out of her depth and she's already asked for his help, she's less interested in impressing him than she might be were this another teacher or friend or sibling's manfriend. Save for causing the actual apocalypse, Obi-Wan has seen her near her worst.

She knows that's not true. Today, Vanya wasn't angry, she was scared. Angry is what makes her powers the most dangerous. She can't imagine being angry here, but she couldn't have imagined she was a nuclear reactor either.

[larger_world]

"It is," Obi-Wan agrees. "And it's about awareness. A lack of judgement when it comes to your own inner thought process. The way we're first taught as younglings is that we find a comfortable place to sit, in a position that's both stable and something we can maintain from between five and ten minutes."

There are times when he can't believe just how short his first meditation sessions were. He understands why it's preferable, that people will never be able to learn if they're expected to sit still with their own mind for an hour or two immediately, but these days Obi-Wan rarely meditates for under an hour.

"Then," he says. "We close our eyes, find a comfortable position for our hands, and we breathe. Pay attention to the inhale, the exhale, focus on that, be aware of that. And every time we notice our mind has wandered, without judgement, we return our focus to our breath."

[fifthbeatle]

God, she wishes she had a notebook. Her memory - however undone by medication to later be restitched by government-grade LSD - is pretty good and she always remembers the important things, like deadlines and birthdays and orchestrations. She's not so great at remembering to care for herself. That has to change now. She can't afford to wait.

So, she repeats it back, "get comfortable, close my eyes, breathe and withhold judgement." Most of that is good advice for right now, too so she takes a breath and lets the exhale slip out some of the shit she knows she's holding in her shoulders.

"So, it's okay to starts small," Vanya recaps now that she's chewing on all the pieces. "A-and if I can't... stop my brain from thinking, that's okay. I just have to-to... What? Not feel it?" The question feels unforgivably stupid but, in the spirit of learning and trusting, she tries to tease a new perspective out. "Or... assign it no... value?" She breathes a laugh. "God, am I hopeless if I can't imagine what it would be like to not judge a thought?" While playful, this is still a move of self-deprecation, however well-intended.

She just wants to get it right. Not for Klaus or for Obi-Wan or Allison or anyone but her.

[larger_world]

"It takes practice," Obi-Wan answers. "And your mind will wander. The part you shouldn't judge is the wandering itself, not the thoughts. Don't chastise yourself for not being able to focus better, don't tell yourself it's impossible or that you can't do it. Your mind is endless, there's no sense trying to stop it from being exactly what it is, but when your thoughts drift away from your breath, gently bring your focus back and keep going."

He smiles then and says, "We can't not feel our emotions. They exist, they're part of what make us who we are. Emotions give us our compassion, our ability to love, to be kind and thoughtful. The goal isn't to not feel them, but to stop letting them control us. The Jedi are warned that anger is a path to the dark side, but what is really meant is that anger that controls us, anger that makes our decisions for us, that can lead us to the dark side."