Ask Kashyyyk At Last I See the Light

[Ruzaan Kai]

It wasn't until two days after the events of his most recent mission in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk that Ruzaan was allowed to have visitors. He didn't fully understand the rationale of the Wookiee doctors, even with the help of a protocol droid for translation, but their argument was essentially that his body had been through an ordeal and that they didn't want to risk any more excitement or stress. His body would heal, the doctors agreed; rest and physical therapy would see to that. But it took Ruzaan a while to figure out that what they were really concerned about was his mind.

His room was well above the main canopy of Kashyyyk, allowing ample sunlight to stream in through the building's many windows. Several of the windows were opened when the weather allowed it, so that the fresh summertime air could breeze in and momentarily chase away the memories of the Shadowlands. Beside his bed, a small speaker played soothing sounds from his home planet of Shili whenever he wanted. It was as if the room was designed to be as different from the Shadowlands as possible... which also meant depriving Ruzaan of the person that he'd leaned on both literally and figuratively during that time.

All they told him was that Samara was okay, but any details beyond that Ruzaan was left to imagine for himself. Last he'd seen the Chalactan, they were both on gurneys and being wheeled off of the gunship in differing directions. Even if he wanted to sneak out and try to find her, he couldn't; sensors in his bed immediately alerted the hospital staff, who kindly but firmly returned him to his room. It wasn't until he reminded them that he was a Togruta and that Togrutas were social creatures that the doctors relented, and told him that they'd make arrangements. Given how frequently he'd asked over the last 48 hours, they didn't even have to ask who he wanted to see.

And so, Ruzaan awaited a knock at his door.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Two days.

It was enough to drive Samara up the wroshyr wood walls of the med clinic, even under the best of circumstances, and this was anything but. She'd been poked and prodded and questioned more times than she could count, until her ears rung and her head spun with a lightheaded sensation she hadn't experienced since she'd first joined the Order, after a wildly competitive Padawan had bowled her over with an ill-timed but arguably well-aied bolo-ball to the head.

Sleep had eluded her the second night. Tossing and turning through the early hours of the morning, fingers curled around the white linen medical sheets in a reflexive, white-knuckle grip, the Chalactan replayed everything that had happened over the last forty-eight hours in her mind until she couldn't take it any more. She'd abandoned the comfort of the medical bed and slipped across the room to the window seat, where she pulled her knees to her chest and waited. Waited for the ache in her chest to subside. For the voices in her head to fall silent.

They never did, so she waited for the sunrise instead. For the promise of a new day. Pure and unstained. Warm rays filtered through trees, their brilliance awakening the planet of Kashyyyk, but Samara felt just as still and just as cold. It was a new day, but the problems of yesterday remained.

Now she stood at Ruzaan's door, frozen in the threshold as she poked her head into his room. Pale fingers wound their way around the door, slightly ajar, and violet eyes fell on the Togruta immediately. "Mind if I come in?" @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Frazzled. That was perhaps the best word to describe Ruzaan as the door to his room squeaked open and revealed Samara. His mouth opened and closed silently as he tried and failed to think of something witty to say, finally settling for an "Uh... yes." Except that wasn't right. "I mean no, I don't mind." Grey eyes searched anxiously over Samara's face and form, anxious for her wellbeing as the Chalactan looked paler than usual.

The Togruta didn't need a machine to tell him that he had an elevated heart rate, but the sensors monitoring his vitals must've picked up on it as well because a moment later the speaker next to his bed began softly playing soothing music. His emotions regarding his friend Samara were all over the place, which had not been helped by the inability to talk about what they'd just gone through together with her.

Unfortunately, Samara being present didn't suddenly give him any clarity, either. He was happy to see her- of that, he was certain- but parts of his brain were still stuck in survival mode and that made it difficult for him to sort through what he was feeling. But at least now they could have a conversation not related to life-or-death choices.

"How are you doing?" Ruzaan asked, sitting back down on his bed while gesturing vaguely in the direction of other seating options; a wroshyr-wood chair, or the floor.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Ruzaan was sitting upright on the bed, propped up against a stack of white bolster pillows—the synthetic kind that smelled like they'd been doused in disinfectant one too many times. Bland and characterless, that never let you forget exactly where you are and why you're there. The same pillows she'd been attempting to fall asleep against the last two nights without much success. She wondered if Ruzaan had faired any better.

The room, at least, was inviting. It was flooded with sunlight. A warm summer breeze drifted through open windows. The air was heavy with some of the most lulling sounds imaginable—frogs and songbirds and tree leaves swaying in the breeze—soundscapes all drifting from a little box beside the Togruta's hospital bed.

Samara sunk into the chair beside the bed and cleared her throat, mouth suddenly dry. "Alright," she said. She hardly had a right to complain, not after what Ruzaan had been through. "They've been asking me a lot of questions. About... about what happened and all that." Silence followed, some unspoken weight settling over the room and pressing against the teenagers.
The Chalactan buckled beneath it first . "I wasn't sure they were ever going to let me see you," she admitted, breaking the silence. She'd been asking ever since they had arrived. Or if you'd want to see me, she added to herself. Her lips were drawn into a straight line, teeth dragging against her lower lip. "What about you? How are you feeling?" @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Samara chose the Wroshyr chair, which Ruzaan hoped was more comfortable than it looked. Although he'd broken a few rules in trying to sneak out on multiple occasions, he'd been told in no uncertain terms not to sit down; he was to either stand, or lie prone on his bed. The doctors expected him to make a full recovery from his spinal injury, but that meant patience, physical therapy, and apparently no sitting for a while.

There was more to Samara's "all right" than she let on, but Ruzaan didn't press. They'd both been through hell, and while they'd gone through it together their experiences had been unique to them. Even so, the Togruta frowned slightly as Samara mentioned questioning. "That's odd" he said. "They haven't asked me hardly anything." An unspoken I wonder why preoccupied him until Samara's voice broke through his thoughts like the sun peeking through clouds following a storm.

"Me either" he responded; Wookiees' dedication to their ideas- Ruzaan would call it stubbornness- was the stuff of legend, and in his opinion the doctors took this even further... although that would be a necessity in such a culture, he realized. He'd seen the holos of Kashyyyk's senator. "But I'm glad they did."

It was then that he better understood Samara's short answer when she, in turn, asked him how he was. No words that came to mind could fully encompass what he felt or how he was, but at least he was finally with someone that he felt that he could, in fact, talk to about it. Samara was the only one who might understand. "I'm a lot better now that we're not running for our lives" he said, setting the bar incredibly low. "I'm feeling better." Another low bar. The Togruta took a breath as he weighed how much of the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings to share with his friend, focusing on some point on a horizon only he could see.

As he'd feared, it was more like a dam collapsing than a steady, controlled flow, and once he started the words kept cascading out. "I keep thinking back to you fighting that Wookiee and how helpless I felt and that you could've died and that there was nothing I could do about it... I was so scared!" Tears welled in his eyes as he looked back over at Samara. "I'm just so glad that you're... not..."

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

A firm, terracotta colored throw pillow fringed with tassels had been propped up against the back of the wooden chair. It didn't make the hand-crafted chair any more comfortable, but it did give Samara something to play with. A distraction, twisting the frayed, discolored threads around her fingers as she situated it on her lap.

"Yeah, well—you didn't kill anyone," she said in a single breath. It was spoken without thinking. Before she could bite her tongue. A part of her regretted it instantly, giving a voice to the same thoughts that had plagued her for two days straight. A part of her was relieved. Grateful, even, to have it off her chest. She'd said it. Given it power by her own voice, and not in the dark, down in some damp, secluded save, but out in the open with a pair of dull, gray eyes trained on her.
Great way to drag the conversation down. If it got any lower, they'd each have to grab shovels and start digging. It was a little late for bedside manner now, but Samara waved a dismissive hand in the air that did little to dismiss the guilt festering within her. "But it's not a big deal." Even if she knew all of the questions by heart at this point. "I won't have to go before a tribunal or anything like that."

She wasn't sure that was the right word. After all, she knew next to nothing about Kashyyyk's government and laws. All she knew was that after extensive questioning and requestioning, the long and the short of it was that she wasn't in trouble. It helped, they'd told her, that the other Wookiees had corroborated her story. Ruzaan had been an eye witness, so she was surprised they hadn't questioned him, too. Maybe they didn't want to stress him out, given his condition, or maybe they assumed he would just back Samara's story no matter what. Maybe they'd question him later, when that intimidating nurse of his wasn't standing guard outside his door like an overprotective mother.

With that out of the way, violet eyes settled on Ruzaan once more, trying to pick up any cues the Togruta might give to determine how he was really feeling. She wasn't able to deduce much. His gaze was focused on some point over her shoulder, his thoughts far away. "I'm feeling better" set the bar so low that even a Hutt could slink over it. Ruzaan had been through hell and back, and he was still standing. Well, technically lying, but the metaphor was the same. He was a lot stronger than Samara might have assumed when they'd first met on Yavin IV. A lot stronger than he gave himself credit for. She studied him quietly, faltering on every visible cut and bruise that marred his skin.

"Not dead?" she finished for him, the first hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It didn't quite reach her eyes, not when she understood just how close she had come to dying. How close they had both come to dying. "Yeah, me too."

Silence threated to swallow them again after that, but Samara wouldn't let it. Even if she had no idea what to say, no idea how to comfort Ruzaan. She wasn't very good at this sort of thing, but she'd never forgive herself if she didn't try. "Listen," she began, rocking forward in the chair to buy herself more time but refusing to break eye contact with Ruzaan. "I wouldn't be sitting here without you. You do realize that, don't you?" It was Ruzaan, after all, that had thrown her the lightsaber. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Of course. Samara had taken the life of one of their supposed allies; it was a sign of the immense criticism that the Order now faced that even the Wookiees were conducting thorough investigations. Of course, given the track record of Jedi Padawans on Kashyyyk, he couldn't really blame them. Fortunately, the investigation appeared to have absolved Samara of blame; at least, the blame that she wasn't heaping on herself. Ruzaan had come to understand that no amount of regret could change the past, but that didn't stop him from wishing that it hadn't turned out differently.

Despite their collective difficulties stringing together a coherent sentence, he and Samara seemed to be more or less on the same page; both of them shoving aside their own needs to try and tend to the other's pain. It was a cycle, and not necessarily a helpful one, and as Samara brought up how he'd helped save her life the Togruta held up a hand when she was finished.

"Hold on" he said, swallowing once under the focus of her gaze. "We can talk about what happened, but we both know that we'd both be dead if not for the other. That part is over. We're even." There was a strange sense of liberation as he tried to speak that claim into existence. "The only thing we owe each other right now is a commitment to getting better. So if it helps to talk through things to process, then go ahead. But we can't just sit here and feel sorry for each other."

He finally found the strength to fully meet Samara's gaze. "You're part of my life now, Samara, even more than you already were. I don't want what happened back there to define us. I want to build better memories with you than those."

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

The tension that had taken shape and pressed against the teenagers ever since Samara had entered the room began to ebb. Each breath she took came a little easier to her now, and a lazy, lopsided smile formed on her lips. It was genuine, even if her eyes lacked their usual spark. "I guess that means you're stuck with me now, huh?"
Sure, they'd been friends before they had been attacked by a group of Wookiees gone rogue, fallen who knows how many feet into a cave, and gotten chased through the woods by a giant spider, but somehow... somehow it was different now. It felt different, anyway. Ruzaan said as much. The Togruta had her back. He would go to any lengths to save her, and he had down in the cave, when all the odds were against them, with all the cards stacked against him. He was just that kind of a Jedi. He was just that kind of friend.

"Thanks, Ruzaan," she said, voice rich with emotion. She reached an unsteady hand out to clasp his, but her pinky had barely brushed against his skin before the door swung open, and a heavyset Wookiee with lots of fur and a collection of turquoise necklaces around the neck swept into the room. She was short for a Wookiee, but she still managed to tower over the Padawans at six foot five, and it made her no less intimidating.

Instinctively, Samara's hand shot back to her lap before the nurse could even reach the bed. An ink black coat of hair streaked gray with age brushed against the Chalactan's arm, the nurse coming to an abrupt stop in front of the monitor. It must have alerted her of Ruzaan's elevated heart rate.

Samara couldn't tell if the Wookiee was talking to Ruzaan or to herself, muttering—or rather growling—in Shyriiwook under her breath as she fussed over the Togruta like a mother hen with her chick. Fluffing up his pillows, rearranging his sheets, and finally crossing the room to adjust the curtains so the afternoon sun wouldn't shine in his eyes. Samara felt like an intruder the entire time. It was hard not to when the Wookiee kept shooting daggers at her—sharp, golden eyes staring a hole right through the Chalactan. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan's chuckle, while weak, was also genuine- he could always count on Samara to lighten the mood. "Yeah... I guess I am" he said, gradually relaxing into the new dynamic between them; their shared past didn't have to loom over the present. The Togruta reached out as Samara did the same to squeeze her hand in comfort, but before he could make good on that intention in whisked his nurse, who fussed about while muttering to herself about the importance of rest. Ruzaan breathed out a spike of annoyance at this unwelcome interruption, smiling at the nurse with politeness and thankfulness that he didn't feel. She was, Ruzaan supposed, just doing her job, but even he could sense the disapproval with which the nurse looked at Samara. Briefly, the Togruta weighed saying something, but figured it was better to not risk the Wookiee's ire lest she evict Samara in retaliation.

When the fur and turquoise had finally left, Ruzaan reached out again with the intention of squeezing Samara's hand; a reassurance, perhaps as much for himself as for her, that whatever came their way that they would face it together if they could. What he really wanted right now was a hug, but those would have to wait until his back was in better shape and he didn't want to risk summoning the nurse again.

"Sorry" he apologized, glancing in the direction of the door before looking back at Samara. "I'm stuck with her now too it seems." And the monitors, and the faint smell of disinfectant on everything, and the feeling that he should be saying things right now that he didn't know how to say... Ruzaan cleared his throat. "Uh, what were we talking about?"

@llamallove