Spring arrived on Dantooine and with it came the buzzing of eager, industrious insects and the delicate perfume of newly-flowering shrubs. Everything seemed to have the glow of life about it, and as the days become warmer and the cold winter clouds vanished, the Jedi Enclave teemed with new ideas and promise. It was an incredible transformation, Nuala thought, remembering a time when the enclave had been nothing but a decrepit pile of rubble and bad memories. Amazing things had blossomed from that rubbish heap, like a determined flower pushing its head through a layer of black ash.

Nuala could appreciate the peaceful malaise of early spring but she also felt a keen restlessness. She was not a woman to sit by while others fought the necessary battles. As a young woman, she had never expected to spend her years in one place and the itch for travel was always on her mind. Looking out at the plains, looking at the pale green grasses and yellow flowers, she knew it might not be so bad to simply be. She was needed by the enclave and perhaps it was time to relax and restore; someday she would be called back to the fire of battle, but for now it was her job to embrace stillness. In that stillness she had discovered new parts of herself and she had learned to control and calm the snarling beast that waited within.

Nuala rose from the grass, brushing off her simple blue robes. In the valley below, young Padawans were training with wooden swords, overseen by Bao-Dur, who had quickly mastered the basic principles of Jedi training and been promoted to Knight. Mission lay in the grass watching as the youngsters whacked enthusiastically at each other and Bao-Dur corrected their form, keeping any real fights from breaking out. She waved at him and he saluted; he still wouldn't give up on the damn General thing.

It was growing more difficult to get around easily, her stomach was a burden now, slowing her down and keeping her from training as hard as she usually did. She rested her hands on her pregnant stomach and wandered back to the enclave, feeling the little kicks and squirms of the strong baby she carried. She had been spending more time out of doors, not just because the weather was improving, but because she felt a deep affinity for nature. It was a cliché, she knew, but motherhood was bringing her closer to the natural world than she had ever been; she knew a time would come when she would need to reconcile these maternal instincts with her proclivity for violence.

The courtyard was virtually empty, the senior members of the Order were holding talks inside that day. It was becoming more and more common for the members of the Order to deliberate for hours on end, debating on everything from tradition to new policies and the continued fight against the true Sith. Now Knights were sent to Lokan when they were ready and served under the command of Admiral Onasi and Jedi Master Revan. Every week she received a transmission from Revan updating her on the battles, victories and losses, and each time Nuala felt a pang of regret that she could not be there to help. Revan anticipated these feelings and continued to assure her that she was, indeed, helping, by training the next generation and seeing to it that the Jedi endured.

Nuala entered the enclave and walked slowly down the cool hall into the inner courtyard before turning down a dim passage that led to the conferencing chamber. The doors were open and inside, the chamber was packed with Jedi. Nuala stood in the back, smiling as she watched the crowd listening raptly to the man before them. He spoke from a podium, scanning the crowd of Jedi, urging them to listen with his earnest eyes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, hidden in the shadows.

"We must all be true to the teachings of the Jedi, but we must also, and above all, be true to ourselves and to who we truly are. The Jedi way can bring power and enlightenment, but it can also lead us down a dark, lonely path in which there is no room for the affection of others. I will continue to urge the council to consider my proposals to amend the Jedi teachings and encourage greater liberties for the Jedi in both physical and emotional realms. Who can say what power we lose when we cut ourselves off from love, intimacy and family? Certainly, jealousy and greed are always a threat, but how much better equipped to counter these feelings is the man who understands the true meaning of devotion and family?"

There was eager applause from about half of the audience. Nuala joined in, clapping slowly. Jedi Master Mical's teachings were not popular with everyone, but certain of the members seemed to understand his points. Looking at him there, his posture straight and his eyes sure, she couldn't believe that he had once been a shy, apologetic boy lacking in both confidence and original opinions. It didn't surprise her in the least that Mical was enthusiastically voted into the leading position of the Jedi Order. He was the obvious and best choice; they had not even considered her for the role.

All of her doubts about her staying on Dantooine vanished when she looked at Mical. He was so dignified, so trustworthy. He had let the beard grow back and it suited his more sophisticated self. They had been inseparable since he had recovered her from Lokan. No one knew the true story, and no one understood how much it meant to her that he had come. When they first returned to the ships to leave Lokan, Mission had been their main priority. None of them had slept for days as they sped away from the war and back to the Republic, nursing Mission day and night. Her wounds were so severe that she would break into terrifying fevers and bouts of cold aches. Nuala suspected that the wounds were not only physical, that the Dark Jedi had wounded her mind. By the time they reached Coruscant four days later, they were completely exhausted. Bao-Dur transferred Mission to the largest medical facility on the planet with a promise to return soon to Dantooine.

The constant worry and use of their Force powers to treat Mission had left both Mical and Nuala utterly drained. Mical had the good sense to find the grandest, most expensive accommodations in the city and brought Nuala there to rest. At last, they were alone.

At first it had been strange, the two of them there with nothing to do but be together. They were both accustomed to trying to create a relationship in the midst of war and trouble, it was unfamiliar territory to be safe, alone and free of obligations. For the first day they did nothing but sleep, regenerating their tired, overused bodies and minds. By the second night the tension had mounted to a point where Nuala couldn't stand it any longer.

Sitting in a warm bath, she watched Mical at the mirror, shaving off his gruff beard. He wore nothing but a towel, his lean, sculpted shoulders enticing her in the golden light. Outside, the darkening sky was streaked with purple and orange, a glorious, colorful farewell to the afternoon light. Nuala felt a nagging impatience, and her whole body called out to him. They had enjoyed nothing but quick, sleepy kisses as they nursed Mission back to health and slept off the long, miserable hours. Now they were alone, free to do as they liked, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing: If they gave in, it would be a strong renouncement of their Jedi teachings. Nuala had long ago given up on those boundaries and already understood that her body belonged to him, but she wasn't sure he had come to the same conclusion.

"You can't do that later?" Nuala asked, scooping up a baby-blue flower. Mical smiled through the thick mask of white shaving foam. He flicked the razor around in the bath of water sitting in the 

sink and pulled a long, scraping stroke down his cheek. In the mirror he watched her and Nuala extended her legs out of the bath water, placing them on the edge of the tub so the suds and water droplets could slide slowly down their length.

"Don't do that," Mical said sternly.

"And why not?" Nuala asked, feigning total innocence of what she was doing.

"Because it's already an absurd test of my self-control. This beard is coming off, Nuala, I won't stand for anything being in the way of my face and your skin, not a war, not distance, not a damn beard. I beg you, just stop seducing me so I can finish," he replied, scraping more of the beard off of his face. Nuala stared, swallowing hard. His face… Her skin… So he had renounced those teachings after all.

"You're going to make love to me, aren't you?" Nuala asked softly, running a sponge teasingly over her shoulders.

"Perhaps," Mical said, forcing his eyes away from her. "What makes you so certain?"

"I have foreseen it."

"Indeed?" Mical laughed, rinsing the razor blade.

"Well, I foresaw a child so unless there's another handsome blonde Jedi in my future…"

Plop.

Mical gaped at her in the mirror, then spun and looked her in the eyes. Nuala smiled, nodding. He let out a long, slow breath and turned back to the sink, reaching into the murky water to fish out the razor blade. After a moment, he glanced at her again in the mirror.

"Another blonde Jedi," he scoffed. "Now you've gone and spoiled it, I don't want to make love to you at all anymore."

"You always were terrible at hiding your feelings from me, Mical," Nuala replied, dragging the sponge slowly up her slim ankle. Mical finished shaving and ran a towel quickly over his face. He waited for Nuala to look at him and then turned, dropping the towel around his waist. Nuala shuddered, holding the sponge to her chest, squeezing it with fear and anticipation. He came and sat on the edge of the tub, reaching in to find her hand and hold it.

"Did you really foresee a child?" he asked, lowering his voice. "Our child?"

"Yes, I was teetering on the edge, death was… Closing in, and Athan came to me in a vision. He showed me the future and seeing that child… I didn't even know yet for sure that it was ours, but I knew I had to survive somehow."

She could see him absorbing this, see the shadow that passed over his face as she referenced that horrible night. Nuala had never told him the extent of her desperation that night, and she didn't know if she could ever tell him how she had screamed at him that long-lost morning in the hospital. There would be time later to delve into those painful memories. But it wouldn't do, she decided, to let him dwell on the past now, there had been plenty of misery already between them and she had waited for too long to get him alone. Smirking, Nuala took her hand out of the tub and, grabbing the air, yanked him forward with the Force. Mical fell into the tub with a huge splash, drenching the floor and ceiling.

He spluttered to the surface, laughing, wiping the soap and flower petals out of his eyes. Nuala helped, combing the hair back from his forehead. Mical squeezed in beside her and then pulled her onto his lap. She felt his hands grip her around the waist and she tensed, her nerves suddenly overly sensitive. Mical kissed her cheek and she turned to face him; he was watching her expectantly.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know," Nuala murmured, holding his face in her hands. "I think I'd rather make you work for the privilege of that information."

The baby began kicking as Nuala recalled that night, the first time they finally gave into their feelings and left everyone and everything else behind. Nuala rubbed her belly slowly, trying to calm the excited child.

"Even in the womb he's a critic," Mical's voice shimmered in her mind; he had sensed her presence and her thoughts. "Or maybe he doesn't approve of your daydreams." Damn their unbreakable connection, Nuala thought.

"Let's just hope he isn't as nosy as his father," Nuala replied, her eyes flashing as she watched him catch sight of her on the platform.

The baby stopped his frantic kicking and Nuala smiled, unable to keep the memories of that sweet, exhausting night at bay. The bath had been just the beginning, and they had tracked soapy water into the bedroom to continue. It was unlike anything Nuala had imagined, to feel his skin and press her cheek against his while his hands discovered her. She had worried that their shared ignorance of the physical realm would make them clumsy and shy but as soon as their bodies met that hesitation was gone. He had changed, truly changed, and it was evident in the strength of his hands and the fire that seemed to flow between them as freely as the Force. At first it was bizarre to share in his thoughts as he explored her body, but then it was exciting, intimate, a complete bonding of mind and flesh.

She had been waiting for it all her life, the chance to burst with life and love and find that it was nothing to be ashamed of. No, it was something to embrace, something to share with an equal that craved that same total coming together.

Nuala blushed, realizing that she had forgotten where she was. A new speaker took Mical's place and he left the stage, skirting the edge of the crowd, shaking hands and thanking those who continued applauding him. Nuala waited for him at the door, and he met her with a look that told her he had been inside her head while she reminisced. Together they slunk out of the conference chamber and Mical's serious mood lifted as soon as he was beside her. They were not married, but everyone in the enclave knew they were a family. They had decided against marriage, since the bold move might outrage the council and cause trouble. Instead, they quietly made their choices and tried their best to show the Jedi that there was a way to live a life of moderation and still follow the path of the Light.

"They'll come around," Nuala murmured, hooking her arm in his.

"If only they knew," Mical said sadly. "If only they knew how happy they could be, and how powerful."

They had never discussed what caused that shattering awakening on Lokan but both understood as soon as they made love for the first time. It had been the Exile's choice to accept his love fully and accept a life with him, no matter what that entailed, that triggered the stirring and transformation of their powers. It was the obvious answer when they finally held each other and felt the incredible surge of power as their lips met.

"I don't understand why you won't just tell them the truth," Nuala said with a laugh. "Don't you think they'd be relieved to know that they can give into their baser lusts and profit from it?"

"We can't be sure it happens to everyone," Mical replied thoughtfully. "Think of everything we went through to be together, think of that kind of love. How many people feel that kind of devotion to another being?"

"Not many," she said, beaming at him as they returned to their private quarters. Nuala knew he was right; not everyone could find this kind of power in love. She often worried that their son would become a dangerous being; she had caught a glimpse of his immense power, would he use it for good or ill?

"Have faith in our guidance," Mical told her, sensing her fears. "He will grow to be the man we teach him to be."

When they reached their quarters a messenger was waiting. He was dressed in purple and gold and bowed low to them both. Under his arm he carried a large silver box.

"I've come bearing a message from Lokan," the young boy said, bowing again.

"A data-pad would not suffice?" Mical asked, concerned.

"No, Master Jedi, I bring a gift and it could only be entrusted to one of my kind."

"Who - "

"He's a Morgrek rider," Nuala said, inclining her head to the young man. He nodded emphatically and Mical opened the door for them.

"Please, come inside."

Mical and Nuala received the messenger in their simple, elegant home. They waited patiently together as he fished a holograph out of his voluminous robes and set it down on the kitchen table. He cleared his throat a little and pressed the switch. A large, blue image of a man sprung to life.

"King Athan?" Nuala breathed. He was almost unrecognizable, handsome and regal in his royal robes and simple crown. His beard was gone and his hair had been trimmed back; he looked every bit the able and trustworthy King.

"Greetings, Jedi Masters Nuala Avda and Mical Vail. I send warm wishes from all of us here on Lokan. Jedi Master Revan recently informed me that you are beginning a family; I feel obligated to send a gift to celebrate the arrival of this child, for his destiny is surely great. Please accept this gift on behalf of all K'Resh and may your family prosper, and may I also extend a warm invitation, we would be honored to host you at the palace."

"That's very kind of him," Mical murmured, but the message was not over.

"In regards to the gift, do not be too alarmed. I have sent along a year's supply of powdered Si'rak eggs and milk."

The hologram disappeared and the young man stepped forward again, bowing before placing the large silver box on the table. It inched across the table, shaking. Nuala took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Mical.

"What exactly - "

The rider pulled off the lid and Mical and Nuala inched closer to peer inside. She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.

"Oh dear," Mical said, blinking disjointedly.

"It's adorable!" Nuala cried, reaching in to grab the creature, who hissed at her curiously.

"Nuala, don't!" Mical said sternly, trying to intervene. "The child!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Nuala said, hugging the little winged serpent to her chest. "He's just a baby."

"Morgreks bond very closely to their care takers," the boy explained, overjoyed that the Jedi was pleased with the gift. "He will always protect you and your family, their defensive instincts are finer than any creature I have ever met or heard of."

The baby Morgrek stuck his forked, black tongue in Nuala's ear and she giggled, trying to pull him away from her face.

"I will leave the crates of food in the hangar," the boy said, bowing.

"Thank you, I suppose," Mical said, shaking his head at Nuala.

"The baby likes him, he's kicking," Nuala said, taking Mical's hand and placing it on her stomach. The boy scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. Mical pulled Nuala close and nuzzled the side of her neck.

"Put that weird snake away," Mical said, the back of his hand deliberately brushing her breasts as he tried to take the pet from her. Nuala's eyelids fluttered closed and she teetered on her heels. His power over her was unstoppable. Mical lifted the Morgrek out of her arms and placed it back in the box, replacing the lid with a snap.

"Mical, we really should feed him," she protested, but his warm kisses were going to her head, and he was invading her mind with the Force, showing her tantalizing images she wanted to see more and more of. He pulled her roughly against his body and ran his hands through her short hair.

"Indulge me," he whispered, nudging her toward the bed. The Exile looped her arms around his neck and let his kisses fall like warm, sweet rain on her face. She couldn't deny him anything, not anymore, not when he had come so far and risked so much and all for her. All for her.

There are moments when I feel your love destroying me, ripping at the seams of my control. Would it be so terrible to die from the force of my feelings for you? Perhaps it would shake the universe and you would finally understand that I will do anything, anything at all to win your love. Pay attention, you might look up one night at the ebony sky and catch sight of one particular star. It will brighten just for a moment in your eyes, hypnotizing, spreading outward with a desperate, searching glint; you will watch this star die and you will feel it echo in your heart and you will know I have expired at last, too filled up, my darling, filled up to bursting with love for you.

- - -

.fin.