There's a Mirror On the Wall

Because I can, and I'm really fond of this one.

Star Wars: Last Stand of Valor

"It is not a small stage on which we act." Finis looks out over the currently empty Senate dome, before glancing to the teenager standing next to her. "And we have an audience uncounted to scrutinize our performance."

"They criticize it constantly. I'm not good enough for them, too emotional, too attached." Anakin shakes her head, grimacing. "Why are we here, Chancellor?"

"You asked me last time we met how I can be so calm in the face of the vitriol from everyone that's spewed behind my back." Finis waves a hand at the empty Senate. "Look at it all. Vast, and all of it as empty as the space between the stars. Quiet, if only for a moment."

Anakin frowns, but does as Finis suggested, and looks. Listens to the silence that falls with neither of them speaking. Well, not quite silence. Quiet, but with the faint hum of power that keeps the lights on, the pods in standby, the shield in place that arcs over the Chancellor's podium even now.

"You imagine it like this when it's full of people all shouting at once?" Anakin turns her head to look at Finis again, curiosity clear in her expression.

"Sometimes. Sometimes I just imagine the lot of them naked. Or as younglings playing dress-up." Finis smiles as Anakin laughs, reaching out to rest a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're fine, Anakin. Connections are part of being human, and cutting them off is about as sensible as cutting off an arm or a leg. The Jedi seem to have forgotten that, most of them."

And I'm going to use November and Mini Nano as a motivation to post to my DW every day again. See if I can't post my snippets, at least, to both tumblr and DW every day. Maybe if I get in that habit, I can keep it going.

Jedi Leia

Prompt: armor

"I don't have time to argue with you, just put on the armor, Senator." Leia drops the box with storm trooper armor at Organa's feet, glancing at the door a moment. No one has followed her, just as she had ordered, but she doesn't know how long that will hold. Especially with her father on the damned station.

"Won't the troopers stationed at the end of the corridor ask how you came into the cells without one of them, and are exiting with one?"

Organa is, at least, doing as she's asked, even while he's asking questions.

"They know who my father is. They won't ask questions." Leia hopes that's true, and she hopes they won't report her to anyone higher up the chain of command immediately. This rescue is precarious enough as it is.

She's not sure what to make of the sudden sense of sadness she gets from Organa, and frowns, moving so she can listen at the door for the sound of boots on the deck. Leia doesn't need Organa's pity, or whatever it is causing the sadness, she just needs him to hurry, so she can get him out of here and meet up with her partner in this mess. Hopefully Fett hasn't had any trouble getting to the Jedi, or in convincing the Jedi they need to leave.

"Hurry up, Senator. The sooner we leave, the sooner you'll be safe."

Two months after arriving on Middle Earth:

Obi-Wan sighs, reaching for his glass again. "If I knew the words, I would tell you." For all the good it would do him, since he has no way of getting off this planet without a rescue. One which he's not sure if he should expect, since his mission had been confidential and he had made the blind jump through hyperspace.

"Yet you claim to come from no direction." Thranduil is watching him with narrowed eyes. "There is only beneath the earth or the stars, if you claim no place else, and none have come from the uttermost West in two Ages of Arda."

Watching the subtle gestures Thranduil makes as he speaks gives Obi-Wan some idea of the new words, and he smirks, taking another sip of his wine. "Well, I did not come from beneath the earth."

"You wish me to believe you came from the uttermost West?" Thranduil laughs, his smile sharp and dangerous. "You are neither Eldar nor Istari, and you have none of the grace or grandeur that the Valar are said to have."

"What are those? Eldar, Istari, and Valar? I have not heard of any of them."

The flat look that Thranduil gives him makes Obi-Wan smile again, setting his glass aside in favor of another bite of venison.

"I am of the Eldar, as are all my kin." Thranduil reaches for his own wine, sipping at it a moment. "The Istari have the seeming of men, but they wield more power than you, and have a life that is beyond the span a mortal's might reach."

Adventures in Middle Earth! *big grin* Obi-Wan would like to understand elves. Elves would like him to speak something intelligible.

So, Obi-Wan meets Tauriel, and deals with spiders, if not in that order:

The tall aliens have made short work of the rest of the spiders, and Obi-Wan disengages his lightsaber as he stands, smiling hopefully when their attention turns to him. It doesn't last long, as one of them draws back a bow, an arrow nocked and aimed at his face. The others move to surround him, a few leaping up to take positions on the branches above him. Not neglecting the idea of vertical, then, and not taking chances with his escape.

The one who'd aimed the first arrow in his direction speaks, the language unfamiliar. It sounds like a question, and Obi-Wan assumes he's being asked what he's doing here, or what his name is. Either one is reasonable, though he really doesn't like having weapons aimed at him that he's not sure he can deflect. At least not enough of them.

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I'm afraid I had a little accident with my ship. You wouldn't be able to tell me where the nearest space port is?" He smiles, hoping there is a space port somewhere, and that the aliens speak Basic, or he's going to have more trouble than he likes to think about.

He gets a momentarily blank look before the red-haired alien snaps out orders in what sounds to be a different language than before, another of them lowering their bow and approaching him cautiously. At least they're not trying to kill him, and Obi-Wan clips his lightsaber to his belt before he spreads his arms, showing them he's unarmed and means no harm. Although when the alien tries to reach for his lightsaber, Obi-Wan takes a step backward, dropping one hand to the hilt.

"I can't let you take that." Even if they don't understand his words, Obi-Wan is not going to let them remove his lightsaber.

Lots and lots of notes, and some story bits.

Obi-Wan, five years after The Phantom Menace, about to have an unplanned adventure:

Obi-Wan uses the worst of the invectives he'd learned on his missions on the Outer Rim as he pushes the small freighter he's stolen - he hopes the Order can reimburse the pilot for the loss, but he hadn't had time to procure paid transport if he wanted to survive the mission - to its limits. The navicomp is shot, and he doesn't have time to make the calculations for a hyperspace jump manually. Breathing out a prayer to the Force, he inputs jump perimeters by instinct, and engages the hyperdrive. The ship shudders under another blast of laser-canon fire as the stars blur and elongate in the moment of transition.

Sitting back in the pilot's chair, he lets out a small sigh, though there's little relief to be had. Hyperspace may be safe, but he doesn't know if where he'll come out will be, or how well the ship will survive returning to normal space, after that last hit. It had already been in poor shape beforehand.

At least he hadn't needed to worry about anyone else being put in danger by his rather precipitous departure from the planet. No matter what discussion he'd heard around the Temple at his last visit. Five years a Knight, and everyone's beginning to ask when he plans to take his first Padawan, and never mind that he is usually given missions that aren't at all safe for a youngling - nor intends to give those missions up. No, better he doesn't have one.

Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan looks over the controls, making sure they wouldn't drop out of hyperspace unless the ship is dragged out by a gravity well, before he goes to check the damage he can assess now. He hopes the thing holds together long enough to get him not only to wherever he's jumping blind, but to get back to Coruscant. The mission is riding on the edge of a knife, and he really doesn't want to see what happens if he fails.

(What he does not know at this point is some very powerful and ancient Force-users are watching him, and plotting having another helper. Mahal is gleefully plotting to sabotage Obi-Wan's ship. And then, adventures in Middle Earth time. *grins, and rubs hands together*

Also, Qui-Gon lives. He is training Anakin. Obi-Wan is still a bit uncomfortable with the abrupt end to his apprenticeship, but not terribly upset at Qui-Gon anymore.)

Luzun (594 words) by Morgyn Leri
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Fíli/Original Female Character
Characters: Fíli, Original Female Character, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, War of the Ring, Grief/Mourning
Series: Part 48 of Agnu Ra Nutû
Summary:

Five on the blood-soaked soil on the shores of the Long Lake, and Fíli whispers a hope that he will not have to receive a funeral procession in the months that come.

As It All Burns, Qui-Gon and Ceseri'sado after the little one has had a nightmare:

Sitting up, Qui-Gon picks Ceseri'sado off the floor, letting her bury her face in his shoulder. He should have insisted on going with the others, so she had her creche-mates with her, sleeping together as they had in the Temple. There is enough nightmare fodder without subjecting her to the loneliness of a solitary room.

/No. Here. I'm supposed to be here, with everyone here./ The same stubborn streak he'd noticed before colors the mental words, and Qui-Gon chuckles quietly. He can feel the quiet murmur of the Force that the sentiment is right, though the words are awkward.

"There will be more people if the rest of Queen Amidala's handmaidens survived, and join her here." He rubs Ceseri'sado's back to help her calm, and to disperse the remaining fragments of her nightmare. "It won't be so quiet then."

/Good./ Ceseri'sado shifts, turning her head so she can speak aloud again, a frown on her face. "It shouldn't be this quiet. We shouldn't be alone here."

"And who do you think is missing, little one?"

---

Jedi Leia, Leia at nine:

Leia curls into as tight a ball as she can, jaw clenched tightly shut against the screams that want to claw their way out, and watches the narrow sliver of doorway she can see from under her bed. Waiting for her father to follow her, to punish her for her defiance again. He wants her to be angry at him, to use that in her training, and she is trying very hard not to let him make her do so. It's hard to remember that he used to be the funny boy - nine, like she is now - Master Qui-Gon remembers meeting.

Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

She keeps repeating the mantra to herself, not daring to even reach for the Force to soothe herself, and lead her father straight to her. He will find her anyway, with so few places to hide, but she doesn't need to make it easy for him.

It's like looking into a warped mirror, watching his own body - not him, not his, but someone else who looks terribly like him - slide to his knees in front of a living-again Sidious, expression so utterly lost. Where are his Masters? Where is Obi-Wan, where is Maul? Sithspit and hellfires, where are Yoda and Qui-Gon and the rest of the Council, for that matter?

Taking a deep breath, Anakin wraps his hands around the hilts of both his lightsabers, stepping out of the shadows he seems to have used to walk through a wall. It draws the attention of both his alternate self - there is a flash of surprise and bewilderment that just surfaces through the miasma of anger, sadistic glee, and betrayal that muddies the Force in the room - and Sidious.

"Nice trick, old man." Anakin meets the coldly yellow eyes of the Sith Lord, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He's killed Sidious once, and he can do it again, if he has to. Obi-Wan and Maul are going to be worried when they can't raise him on his communicator, but he'll apologize later.

Sidious studies him with narrowed eyes, his face twisted in a way it hadn't been before, when Anakin had confronted him. "I didn't think the Order would be so bold as to attempt to clone young Skywalker."

Anakin huffs at Sidious's pretence that his alternate - still kneeling, still looking uncertain, but less surprised now - isn't even here. His Masters never would have resorted to such rudeness. "I was born, and I grew up, like any one else, old man. Probably in the same place the kid you have kneeling for you."

He wonders what Sidious did to his alternate, though he's not sure he wants to know. Killed Obi-Wan or Maul, maybe. It's the only thing Anakin can think of that would leave him reeling long enough for Sidious to get hooks in his mind.

Thumbing on one lightsaber, Anakin grins at the flash of surprise that crosses Sidious's face at the crimson blade. Obi-Wan had given him a wounded look when Anakin had built this saber, even though Anakin had already made one that was blue. It seems this Sidious isn't any expecting red any more than the other one.

The surprise isn't enough to keep Sidious from meeting his first strike when he moves, and Anakin easily slides into the rhythm of a duel, reaching out to the Force to let it guide his movements. His other saber he keeps in reserve, though it's a bit of work to keep Sidious at bay without it. It's not time yet.

He has to light it when his alternate self dives into the fight, blue blades clashing, and Anakin hisses, falling back toward the open window. This is not at all what he'd been expecting from his alternate. Couldn't he see the evil in Sidious? Didn't he know that Sidious was threatening the balance of the Force?

Not that the Jedi were entirely better themselves, but Anakin doesn't want to see the Force tip over into darkness, either.

Lashing out with a Force-aided push, Anakin frees himself from the threat of his alternate self for a moment, long enough to leap up into the frame of the window. It's already shattered, so if he must, he can leap - though he can almost hear Maul shouting at him about his lack of planning, and Obi-Wan's muttered oh no, not again.

Anakin can feel the shift in the room just before Sidious brings up a hand, Force-lightning sparking from his fingertips. He hadn't liked it last time, and he grimaces as he twists, bringing one lightsaber up to deflect it. Jumping into Coruscant air-traffic is sounding more appealing now, when his other options are being skewered by himself or being electrocuted by a Sith.

"I'll tell my Master you said hello!" Anakin grins at the moment of confusion on Sidious's face before he steps backward, plummeting down into the empty space around 500 Republica. This is not going at all how he expected it to go.

Masters, I hope you can figure out what went wrong when I killed the old man the first time, and get me out of this.

---

"Two of you." The voice sounds aggrieved, and somewhat familiar, and Obi-Wan keeps his eyes closed as he tries to place it. "At least I can be certain you didn't have yourself cloned."

"It doesn't mean the Council didn't decide it might be a good idea." That's his own voice, but it can't be his, because he hasn't said a word. "Though you're not supposed to be able to clone Force-sensatives, not if you want to keep the ability to use the Force, anyway."

"A lightsaber does not mean he can use the Force."

There's a sneer in that voice, and Obi-Wan finally places it, his eyes snapping open as he reaches toward his belt and the lightsaber that should be hanging there. It's not, and he glares at the red-and-black demon that had done rather a lot to destroy his life.

It takes a moment to register the room around him in more than a vague sense, and Obi-Wan frowns, not recognizing the architecture as anything on Utapau, nor anywhere else he's been recently. The stone is pale grey, polished smooth on the floor, and carved in an unfamiliar manner on the walls. A pair of arches leads out into a riotous garden, and light pours in through the half-ruined ceiling - though there is a faint shimmer there that suggests it's sealed by a force-field to keep out weather.

There's also another being in the room, who could pass for Obi-Wan if he grew a beard and trimmed his hair back to his shoulders. He could almost think he was looking in a mirror.

"And closed eyes doesn't mean he's unconscious." A wry smile curls the corners of the other man's mouth, eyes dancing with amusement.

(Yes, this was rather inspired by the current challenge on fan_flashworks, but I am not posting it there. Some other snippet, that does not encourage the muses to keep a new plot bunny and forget the ones they've already brought me.)

Next Part

Have a snippet of me playing with the character meme I've seen over on tumblr recently.

Susan Ivanova, Marcus Cole, Talia Winters, Neroon (Shadowed Stars AU):

1. Who cooks?

Marcus, usually, because he enjoys cooking. Susan, sometimes. Neroon when he wants Minbari cusine. Talia would just order out if the others weren't up to cooking.

This is, of course, assuming they're not eating with the rest of the crew of the Black Star. Then it's often Timov who's cooking, at least if she and Londo and G'Kar are on board. Garibaldi is another popular cook in the crew in general.

2. Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?

Marcus is the one most likely to leave things where he's done with them, much to the annoyance of all of the others. It does mean that he sometimes finds himself handed the laundry basket and told to get everything cleaned. Or locked in the galley with the dishes.

Neroon tends to be the most meticulously neat about his space, and tends to clean up after the others when they don't do so fast enough to suit him. He has to be sat upon, almost, to keep from doing so. Or plied with good liquor.

3. Who fixes the vehicle after a breakdown?

Susan is usually the one to do repairs - either on whatever ground vehicle they've rented, or on the Black Star itself. Although she's far more inclined to suggest stealing another ground vehicle if the one they're using isn't working any longer.

7. Would they go to the beach?

If they could find one they could relax at without getting arrested. They prefer private beaches where clothing is optional, and no one's going to look twice at three humans with a Minbari of the warrior caste.

8. Who knows how to swim? Who doesn’t?

Marcus has known how to swim since he was a child. Susan and Talia learned in the last few months before they left Psi Corps. Neroon still doesn't know how, though he is learning as he has opportunity.

11. Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?

Showers, because there isn't enough water ration for baths. Though when they're planet-side, Susan and Talia sometimes take the chance to pay for a hotel room just so they can have a bath.

Neroon showers alone, Marcus is happy to shower alone or with either Susan or Talia. Susan and Talia will shower together, and when they have a chance at a bath, they do tend to do so together.

No bubbles.

12. Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?

Physical silence is the norm for them half the time, since Susan and Talia are both telepaths, and strong enough they don't need Marcus or Neroon to be telepaths in order to facilitate mental communication between all of them. Mental silence is something none of them particularly like, as it means that Susan and Talia are both unconscious, and on a job, that can be dangerous.

Marcus is the one who talks the most, both aloud and in the telepathic bond that binds the group together. Sometimes to the point that the rest of them would like him to be asleep just so they can have some peace.

Neroon talks the least, physically, but he's more talkative over the telepathic bond. Talia tends to be the quietest in the telepathic bond, but she's also the one most likely to delve into an outsider's mind, and it's understood she sometimes just wants to listen to her lovers in order to wash those contacts away.

Taking a deep breath as she waits for the doors to open in front of her, Leia glances at the young man beside her who had distracted the Imperials at the last moment - had distracted her father as he chased her across the surface of the Death Star, intent on stopping her from destroying his Empire's greatest weapon. A boy, strong in the Force, blond and desert-tan. Come from Tatooine, she'd heard, with his friend to join the Rebellion.

She wonders for a moment if he'd heard of Obi-Wan, but mentally shakes her head, turning her attention back to the great doors that are sliding open to reveal a hall full of uniformed pilots and other personnel, standing in ranks for this ceremony. A hero's accolades and honors to be given to the daughter of the Rebellion's worst enemy - a role that Leia isn't even certain she fills. Her aim had been only to strike a blow in the dangerous game of cat and mouse she's been playing with her father for the last three years, after all.

Taking another deep breath, she steps forward in sync with the boy, feeling the barely constrained joy of the rebels in the Force. It's almost enough to make her believe that she can be seen as a hero. Certainly enough to keep her head held high as she mounts the steps to where the leaders of the Rebellion wait.

Queen Breha of Alderaan, who has lost daughter, husband, and world to the Empire. Captain Solo, defector from the Imperial Fleet and one of those who Leia had been sent after before she broke openly from her father. Mon Mothma, former senator of Chandrila before the Emperor had dissolved the Senate. And a man she doesn't recognize, in the robes of the old Jedi Order, whose Force-presence is warm against her mind.

I've waited a long time to meet you again, Leia.

She keeps her attention on the smiling Breha from long practice at ignoring whispers even as she wonders who the man is that he might have met her before. There are so few she has met before, and none that she recalls who have such a warm presence. Her father's acolytes and the Emperor's Inquisitors all have the same cold feel to them that she associates with the Dark Side.

Who are you?

Leia ducks her head as Breha brings the first of the medals to her, settling the wide ribbon neatly around her neck. Lifting her head, she takes a moment to look at the Jedi again, studying his face to try placing him within her memory. It evokes nothing, not even the faintest glimmer of recognition.

You already know my name, even if you don't know me.

Beside her, the boy ducks to receive his own medal, and Leia focuses on the ceremony again as she wrestles with the uncertain thought that the Jedi is probably Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her Master's last apprentice when he'd lived, and the man her father hates above almost all others - only Emperor Palpatine has earned a greater share of his hatred. Leia's own feelings on the man are far more conflicted, having tales from both her Master and her father about him.

Turning in unison with the boy - she has to find out his name, indeed should have before this - Leia faces the men and women who have risked far more than she has to bring the Empire down. Their applause feels strange to accept, though she smiles through it. All she wants to do right now is leave, to return to her stolen fighter and hide in the cockpit, not accept the congratulations and good wishes of men and women she doesn't even know.