For allbingo
Sep. 23rd, 2020 06:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: Talking To Ghosts
Summary: Death isn’t the end, for non-Force Sensitives.
Prompt: communication
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Title from a Foxes song, and premise from a headcanon that a commenter on one of my fics had about non-Force Sensitives turning to energy when they die. (Plus, considering all the ghost Padme fics...why not?)
It was months after Poe came back from Kijimi that Ben took him to the Force tree on Yavin.
There was something about just being under the Force tree where Poe looked around, reminded of them nestling together under it, catching petals that fell from the tree, things like that. They were so little, Poe could remember — little and not thinking that anything rough would happen to them. Poe could still remember some of the petals. Creamy white, rosy pink...blossoms of different colors. The tree was already in bloom right now, sprouting flowers. Poe could imagine that in time, it would look truly magnificent.
“I can still remember,” Poe said. "That was a different time back then, wasn’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be," Ben said. “After all — it’s not too late to go back.” Poe could swear that his eye twitched in that moment, though, like he was trying not to cry.
“You said something about my mother being there,” Poe said. “Ben...I thought that non Force Sensitives didn’t get an afterlife.”
“That was what the Jedi thought at first. Then...” Ben took a deep breath. “It was sometime in the High Republic era that one Jedi Master found that non Force Sensitives became energy. They couldn’t take on corporeal form, but they left imprints on the Force nonetheless. Besides...the Force doesn’t just belong to the Jedi. Everyone has Force potential to some degree; some are late bloomers, some never display it at all, some...it’s very complicated.”
“You think I’ll be able to see her?"
“Even if you didn’t see her, Poe,” Ben said, “Would that make her any less real? Any less there?”
Poe looked up into Ben’s face. Ben loved him, he knew that. A pure sort of love, a sort of worship that occasionally made Poe wonder if he was really living up to anyone’s expectations — but Ben still loved him. Poe could be at his worst and Ben would look at him like he’d seen an angel.
“Can you feel her?” Ben said.
A warm brush of air, a hand against Poe’s cheek. His mother’s voice. It’s okay, little bird. It’s okay.
Poe blinked. It seemed that even at twenty-one, he could still a small child who missed his Mama. “Mama?”
Little bird...
“Hey, Mama,” he said, softly. “I know I let you down.”
No, little bird. You were so brave.
“Are you here?”
Always here. In your heart, in your memories.
“Is it beautiful there?”
It is, little bird. I’ve watched you — watched as you saved a woman who hated you, as you defied the Spice Runners. I watched you...you lost your way, but you’ve been stronger for the journey.
“I don’t deserve anyone’s praise.”
“You do,” Ben said, fiercely, at the same time Shara’s impression (Shara’s something) said it.
“I messed up.”
Being a good person doesn’t mean being perfect, little bird. It just means doing the right thing, when it really matters. And you did that.
Poe paused. He had done the right thing, when it had really mattered. When it had really counted.
He’d paid for it. Leaving Zorii behind — he didn’t know if he loved her (she seemed to love him more) but she had meant something to him, out there in the wastelands. He wished he had been able to help her, to save her from herself.
Because it was his nature — and because Zorii was his friend.
You were and are so brave, little bird. A beat. Ben...take care of my son.
“Always,” Ben said.
Shara faded.
Poe thought he saw a blinding white impression of his mother’s smiling, warm face, her eyebrow unscarred, as she faded away.
***
Ben looked at Poe, and for a moment, he thought that Poe would hate him for showing him the impression of Shara. The energy being that non-Force Sensitives became.
But Poe smiled. It was that warm, radiant smile, a smile that could break the heart and warm it, that captured Ben’s attention. “Ben,” he said, “You gave me a gift. I...” A strangled laugh. “How do I repay you?”
“You don’t have to,” Ben said. “I love you, Poe. And I can’t heal every wound you have but...I want to. I — I love you, and I don’t want you to be...sad...”
It was true. When Poe hurt, Ben felt the pain like it was his own. And maybe it was halfway selfish, but Ben would do anything to relieve Poe’s pain.
Poe kissed him softly. "I’m not sad, Ben,” he said. “Not while I’m with you.”
Summary: Death isn’t the end, for non-Force Sensitives.
Prompt: communication
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Title from a Foxes song, and premise from a headcanon that a commenter on one of my fics had about non-Force Sensitives turning to energy when they die. (Plus, considering all the ghost Padme fics...why not?)
It was months after Poe came back from Kijimi that Ben took him to the Force tree on Yavin.
There was something about just being under the Force tree where Poe looked around, reminded of them nestling together under it, catching petals that fell from the tree, things like that. They were so little, Poe could remember — little and not thinking that anything rough would happen to them. Poe could still remember some of the petals. Creamy white, rosy pink...blossoms of different colors. The tree was already in bloom right now, sprouting flowers. Poe could imagine that in time, it would look truly magnificent.
“I can still remember,” Poe said. "That was a different time back then, wasn’t it?”
“It doesn’t have to be," Ben said. “After all — it’s not too late to go back.” Poe could swear that his eye twitched in that moment, though, like he was trying not to cry.
“You said something about my mother being there,” Poe said. “Ben...I thought that non Force Sensitives didn’t get an afterlife.”
“That was what the Jedi thought at first. Then...” Ben took a deep breath. “It was sometime in the High Republic era that one Jedi Master found that non Force Sensitives became energy. They couldn’t take on corporeal form, but they left imprints on the Force nonetheless. Besides...the Force doesn’t just belong to the Jedi. Everyone has Force potential to some degree; some are late bloomers, some never display it at all, some...it’s very complicated.”
“You think I’ll be able to see her?"
“Even if you didn’t see her, Poe,” Ben said, “Would that make her any less real? Any less there?”
Poe looked up into Ben’s face. Ben loved him, he knew that. A pure sort of love, a sort of worship that occasionally made Poe wonder if he was really living up to anyone’s expectations — but Ben still loved him. Poe could be at his worst and Ben would look at him like he’d seen an angel.
“Can you feel her?” Ben said.
A warm brush of air, a hand against Poe’s cheek. His mother’s voice. It’s okay, little bird. It’s okay.
Poe blinked. It seemed that even at twenty-one, he could still a small child who missed his Mama. “Mama?”
Little bird...
“Hey, Mama,” he said, softly. “I know I let you down.”
No, little bird. You were so brave.
“Are you here?”
Always here. In your heart, in your memories.
“Is it beautiful there?”
It is, little bird. I’ve watched you — watched as you saved a woman who hated you, as you defied the Spice Runners. I watched you...you lost your way, but you’ve been stronger for the journey.
“I don’t deserve anyone’s praise.”
“You do,” Ben said, fiercely, at the same time Shara’s impression (Shara’s something) said it.
“I messed up.”
Being a good person doesn’t mean being perfect, little bird. It just means doing the right thing, when it really matters. And you did that.
Poe paused. He had done the right thing, when it had really mattered. When it had really counted.
He’d paid for it. Leaving Zorii behind — he didn’t know if he loved her (she seemed to love him more) but she had meant something to him, out there in the wastelands. He wished he had been able to help her, to save her from herself.
Because it was his nature — and because Zorii was his friend.
You were and are so brave, little bird. A beat. Ben...take care of my son.
“Always,” Ben said.
Shara faded.
Poe thought he saw a blinding white impression of his mother’s smiling, warm face, her eyebrow unscarred, as she faded away.
***
Ben looked at Poe, and for a moment, he thought that Poe would hate him for showing him the impression of Shara. The energy being that non-Force Sensitives became.
But Poe smiled. It was that warm, radiant smile, a smile that could break the heart and warm it, that captured Ben’s attention. “Ben,” he said, “You gave me a gift. I...” A strangled laugh. “How do I repay you?”
“You don’t have to,” Ben said. “I love you, Poe. And I can’t heal every wound you have but...I want to. I — I love you, and I don’t want you to be...sad...”
It was true. When Poe hurt, Ben felt the pain like it was his own. And maybe it was halfway selfish, but Ben would do anything to relieve Poe’s pain.
Poe kissed him softly. "I’m not sad, Ben,” he said. “Not while I’m with you.”
