mattlauercansuckit: (master and padawan)
[personal profile] mattlauercansuckit
title it's broken (i don't want to play)
author [livejournal.com profile] patientalien
rating PG-13
summary Anakin and Ahsoka
notes Written while listening to "Evelyn Evelyn" by Amanda Palmer and Jason Webley (strongly influenced by it, actually - title, cut-text, and some dialogue from the song). Is basically the absolute opposite in feeling than what I actually feel atm, LOL. (I also stole a bit of phrasing from myself and one of my other fics... oops)

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They grow up together, Master and Padawan, five years apart - youngest Master in the Order, oldest Padawan chosen for apprenticeship, and they grow up dancing around each other, waltzing as they teach and learn and give and take. "What will we do tonight - what will we eat today - will we be sparring (we just did that yesterday)."

The war fuses them together, no chance for escaping one another, not on missions where living quarters are a cramped tent made for one - they sleep breathing into one another's necks - and where their survival hinges on how well the one knows the other.

Closer than anything, closer sometimes than Master and his own Master (but they're not looking, anyway), blind eyes are turned because Master is known for this kind of thing and if he is winning the war, they will punish him after it's over.

Things crack under the strain; men die, hurts are dwelled upon, allowed to fester. They watch each other sleeping, resentment builds, neither of them asked for this, to be thrust together, to never get a break, to never feel in control of their own fate. Master, especially, is hobbled by his title and the prophecy and the idea that his very existence is not for himself.

Darkness dwells just beneath the surface, bubbling up through the cracks in the veneer. Padawan tries to help - "I'm only trying to do what's best!"

"I never asked for this. I never wanted this! All I want is some kriffing time to myself!"

Sparring turns violent, bitterness taking form of training 'sabers and Force pushes. They go too far, leave bruises (and scratches down one another's backs). Padawan winces, Master freezes.

"Are you scared of me?"

"You never cared for me!"

"You never listen!"

"You're always insisting!"

And, together, a howled chorus - "I just want my privacy, why won't you leave me alone?"

They break apart, sever their bonds, but the battles keep drawing them together, and they sew themselves back up, the edges frayed, tempers flare. Master enters, Padawan allows, the Council is suspicious, but the team is unstoppable. Glory and honor and scars and blood and they find themselves in those dark secret places (the same dark secret places Master shared with his own Master) and the threads holding them together snap, one by one, and are replaced piecemeal, and again and again and the Council (they're watching us, anyway) sees.

The Darkness consumes him in a monstrous wave, and when it finally ends and the smoke clears and Padawan stands on the ruins of what was once her life, holding the tattered remains of Master's presence (he is still alive, somewhere, but that doesn't matter) and she has her privacy and the galaxy is empty for her.


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Lars Quell

December 2011

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