(stuck in an old, empty dance hall)
”’Master. I’m leaving. I need to know what happened to Crix. Why there’s nothing brought back.’”
Those were her words, meant for him and him alone, yet they have been spoken by uncaring, unfeeling lips. The privacy held in her message, the feelings imbued with each word, tossed aloud against their will to fall not only upon Haldir's ears but also Chie's and the Erennor patriarch's personal guards.
”’I’m doing this alone. I have to. Good luck with your other students; the Order needs you.’”
The Order needed him – didn't that mean that she needed him as well? Because wasn't that what he had told her and Elidan? That he would be there for them; that all they needed was to call and he would come running to them?
Maybe his words haven't been enough, in the end.
"'...Willa Kanz is no more. Don’t try to find her. She’s already gone.'"
At first, Haldir felt frustrated. Not angry, never that. He was frustrated that Willa didn't speak to him face to face, that she had chosen to keep her feelings and thoughts to herself. He shared her grief towards Crix' death despite the varying depths of their friendship with the half-Zabrak. Haldir understood why it tore at her the hardest – Crix, after all, was her best friend. And losing a father figure in Master Maxims Tionson all those years ago... he couldn't, wouldn't blame her for her broken heart. Couldn't, wouldn't blame her for her desire to leave and search for answers on her own. But the frustration was ever present, something Haldir had not expected to feel with such intensity. Frustrated at her for not telling him in person, frustrated at himself for waiting for her to open up instead of approaching her himself.
Then came anger at having his privacy being trampled again and again by the man he called his Father. Willa's message was solely meant for Haldir, and yet the Erennor patriarch seemed to find it prudent to disrespect his son by intruding on his personal affairs by reading his Padawan's message aloud for a few members of the clan to hear. It was just one of Soi Erennor's attempts to discourage Haldir as a Jedi Knight, but it backfired spectacularly.
Haldir Eressëa was only driven further to his purpose, and his desire to track down the wayward, heartbroken Willa Kanz. Not simply because she was his Padawan and that he was her Master.
Battered and bruised, bloodied up after being educated to remember his place as an outcast, Haldir had not bothered to clean himself up as he staggered to Hasebe's room. His little brother was quick to jump to the older Erennor's side, wincing at the blood that stained Haldir's clothes and hair. The Knight didn't have the heart to brush aside Hasebe's worry, and instead let the little one attempt to treat his injuries.
"I need to send a message, Hasebe," Haldir finally spoke, voice hoarse from shouting vitriol at their Father. "A private channel to the Jedi Council. A request for an audience."
His time with Willa and Elidan taught him that he didn't have to be alone. That he didn't have to face adversity on his own. His Padawans were like night and day, but to Haldir?
They gave him hope.
And now that hope was being threatened to diminish, with Willa straying out of his grasp.
Already he missed her bright smiles, her teasing and kind words, her light-hearted joking. Light brown eyes that gazed at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention, when she thought that his mind had been wandering; gazes that might have meant something if only he had been brave enough to catch her looking. Her presence, her sound in the Force – a Star singing with an ethereal, upbeat voice at the lonely, reserved
Willa's music would be ever present, but Haldir was left hanging with a thought he had been ignoring for quite a while now – meant for the woman who shone like a supernova with her music: I should have asked you to dance.
Sadness fought against frustration. Would he be able to see her again? Would she have let him help her had he approached her in the first place?
Will you let me help you? he had asked her on their first official meeting as Master and Padawan. And now she had ran off on her own, telling him not to try and find her because Willa Kanz was no more.
A wise young man – if albeit grumpy – once told Haldir that no one was ever truy gone.
Hasebe's quiet voice cut through the Knight's thoughts, offering a vulpine mask to the older Erennor. "The floor is yours, Aniue."
Ivory hand with bloody and bruised knuckles accepted the proferred mask and held it in place to cover the face only three Jedi – now whittled to two, it hurt – had been trusted to see. Jedi Knight Haldir Eressëa buttoned up his dark coat, concealing the blood-stained white shirt beneath, and turned to face the screen.
"I am Jedi Knight Haldir Eressëa, requesting an urgent audience with any or all Council members regarding the disappearance of my Padawan Willa Kanz."
Willa Kanz would never be gone, Haldir would make sure of it.