First KOTOR angst bingo fic!

[ladyofleithian]

From the department of "And Now For Something Completely Different". (Sort of)

Title: Once, A Good Man Went To War

Summary: A conversation with Brianna the Handmaiden brings back old memories. 

Warnings: Rusty writing skills, angst. 

Prompt: Broken promises.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: Title sort of taken from the Doctor Who episode, "A Good Man Goes To War" (a.k.a. the first Doctor Who episode I actually saw). Considering Revan, it seemed appropriate.

It was one sparring session that the Handmaiden asked her about Revan.

"Well," she said, "All right. But why?"

"I simply wish to know why. You've been asking me constant questions about my life, about others' lives -- but what about you, Exile?" Even that simple word was enough to unsettle Arawn -- somehow, she didn't like it. Even hearing it reminded her of the trial, of Atris' cold rejection, of Atris' accusation of her being Revan's apprentice, of being a war criminal -- and with it brought other things she would prefer to forget.

"Please don't call me that."

"I'm sorry." The Handmaiden sounded so abashed now, so...almost hurt, to the point Arawn felt almost guilty for even bringing it up. "I...I meant no harm."

"It's all right." Arawn tried to smile -- if anything, the Handmaiden was a kind young woman. Naive, yes, a tad overprotective and too devoted to duty by half (if anything, she seemed to have inherited Atris' fire and devotion to duty -- traits that could be taken to extremes as well as serve for good purposes), but genuinely good nonetheless. "It's just -- we've known one another for quite a while. 'Exile' seems a bit too formal for the two of us now."

The Handmaiden merely arched an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Yes." 

She had asked once if the Handmaiden had a name. The Handmaiden had not told her the name, saying it was quite irrelevant for those in the position of serving Atris. Arawn had found it odd, but refrained from saying it aloud -- some things were better left unnoticed and unsaid. 

"Anyway," Arawn said, "What do you want me to talk about?"

"When we were discussing Revan, if I may trouble you with boldness...you seemed distracted. Sad, really." The Handmaiden's voice was careful, soft, almost as if she feared upsetting Arawn by mistake -- it was ludicrous considering that technically, they were no doubt equals by this point. "Did he mean something to you?"

Even now, Arawn knew it wasn't the Handmaiden's fault -- but memories came to the surface now. Her, Revan and Alek racing speeders through meadows, all but chasing shadows and sunsets and sunrises and blades of grass. Romping and rolling playfully around in the grass. Laughing together, reading and studying and meditating together. Revan, comforting her after a particularly distressing mission when she was trying so vainly not to let her emotions show. Confiding in Alek. Alek, strong and fierce and idealistic and filled with passion that blazed like the twin suns of Tatooine -- passion that almost perfectly counterbalanced Revan's more methodical, logical processes. Moonlight over Dantooine.

And at the same time, Alek telling her of the word that plagued their dear friend's dream: ajasra. How hollow Revan's eyes seemed to be with each passing day. Even now, remembering Revan's ruthlessness, his seeming disregard for his own men day by day, Arawn was almost...glad, in a perverse way. Not glad that her friend had fallen in the slightest. Just glad for the fact she could learn from it, in a way, even as she continued to reconnect with the Force -- Revan's mistakes told her without speaking what she had to avoid. 

"Arawn?" The Handmaiden. Worried. Afraid she may have stepped out of line.

"It's fine, it's fine. It's just...I'll admit, I don't know where to begin. But I'll try." Arawn took a deep breath. "Let's say that once, a good man went to war..."