A Long Time Waiting

(A/N: I originally wrote this for the kfm livejournal secret santa. It's a Revan/Bastila reunion piece, set after K2)

Bastila inhaled softly as the breeze rustled through the tree above her; it had always been a relaxing sound, one that was normally an aid to her morning meditation, but today, it brought her no comfort. Everyday it was getting harder to find the quiet calm that was her centre, meditation was becoming a burden instead of a blessing. It was not the first time Bastila had become assailed by self-doubt, but she had truly believed that the times when she writhed in anger and fear were behind her.

Before Revan had left, Bastila had often reflected on the irony of their respective roles, in her foolishness she had seen herself as a warrior of light, charged with redeeming a Sith Lord. But it was the darkness that she had seen within Revan which made her in turn acknowledge her own doubt and, eventually, he was the one who redeemed her, not the other way around. Revan made her acknowledge her own humanity, her own weaknesses, but he left her to conquer them with her own strength.

One year we had together, sharing our strength and our love. Only one year before you were taken from me and you kept refusing to tell me why you were leaving, only that you had to. I was angry with you, furious for keeping me in the dark. I wanted to help you fight whatever you thought had to be fought, but you made me stay behind as though I were some hunter's wife.

Bastila opened her eyes and let her power stream through her: She saw her body glow with force energy, blue fire interweaving with her flesh. Bastila looked up at the branches of the tree planted in the centre of the courtyard and saw the tree's own life force. It was an ancient tree, planted when the academy had first been built; sheltered by the surrounding buildings it had survived Malak's attack on the enclave and to the new students it had become a symbol of how the Jedi Order itself continued to live.

Your original memories began to return to you, at first in little glimpses in your dreams...you told me what you remembered about your real childhood and about the first time you trained to become a Jedi. It must have been terribly confusing for you, to have two sets of memories and to know that everything you thought you were was a lie. When you woke up in the night shrieking over the memories of what you had done, I'd try to understand and to share that pain, but it was something I just couldn't comprehend.

She stood up very slowly and carefully as her back protested against the movement. Ignoring the aches and cramps that flooded through her flesh, Bastila began her morning exercise. Slowly she stretched out every muscle as a warm-up, before launching herself into an Echani pattern dance. It was something Brianna had taught her, which was one of the things Bastila loved about this new academy: Teaching went both ways.

It was very hard for me, when you first left, I was afraid to use the Force for fear I might become twisted by my own confusion. And, when I did rebuild my self-confidence and was ready to be a true Jedi once more...Nihilus devoured Katarr and feasted upon those who would have been my teachers.

As she threw kicks and punches into the air, Bastila thought of all those who had died on Katarr: Died without dignity, without a chance to fight back. She had not only lost her teachers, but also her friends: Juhani and Jolee both died that day. Bastila had sometimes wondered if Revan was dead too, because she could no longer feel his presence through their Force bond, but she had quickly realised that she had unconsciously severed the bond between them in her initial anger at his leaving. She couldn't bear to think of him being dead, alone and un-mourned.

My friends were dead, my lover gone; I had only myself to rely on. And once again I could not use the Force for fear of becoming just another meal for that hungry void of a Sith. It was the first time my battle meditation could not help me. But I was still a Jedi; still a warrior and I have always hated to be useless.

Bastila found herself thinking of Carth and how he had understood her need to make herself useful. With the threat of those hidden Sith, Bastila had needed to go into hiding; the power that had made her famous and a threat now made her a target. The Admiral had tasked her with instructing some of his troops in hand to hand combat: A job she was surprised to find that she not only enjoyed, but was also rather good at. And it was at that time she first considered her future as a mentor.

I wonder what Carth felt like when those hidden Sith starting attacking? After he fought so hard to keep the Republic safe...he was probably in the same position as you were Revan: Thinking that his personal war was over, only to find it had hardly begun. It's over for Carth now at least: He's retired back on Telos with his new wife and his son Dustil is taking on his own Padawans now.

She finished her pattern dance and finally let her tired body feel the pain from her aching muscles. Over the years Bastila had accumulated many scars and injuries, but it was not mere physical pain that dragged at her limbs. Revan had been gone for thirty years and Bastila had been working to rebuild the Jedi Enclave ever since the Exiled Jedi, Tela Hano, had destroyed the Sith Lords. Twenty-five years of letting clumsy students hit her with weapons had left their mark on her flesh.

It seems strange to me now, but it was not my idea to rebuild the Enclave, although I wish it had been. When Tela left to go find you, something I would have done long ago had you not expressly forbidden it, the new Jedi she had created came to me. Her apprentices became my new students and for the first time since the events at Katarr, I found myself amongst Jedi who understood my situation. I taught them what I knew of the force and discipline and in return they taught me many new skills: Mira taught me how to set explosives and Brianna taught me how to 'dance' like an Echani fire dancer.

Bastila sat back down beneath the tree and let her body rest, her greying hair was beginning to come loose from its ties and the breeze now tugged at it as it also tugged at the branches. She was beginning to feel the passing of the years, but as long as her hands were still steady enough to hold her sabre, she would continue to instruct new Jedi. The new enclave was her life now, she had nothing else.

But the one who has been most useful as both a friend and an instructor is our new archivist: Mical. He took everything he could salvage from Atris and used his own knowledge of Republic history to start rebuilding our library. I feel much for him, but it has never gone beyond deep friendship: Like mine, his heart is kept here waiting for someone to return.

She shivered as the air suddenly seemed to turn colder, raising goose pimples on her flesh. But it was not just physical cold she felt, it was an overwhelming presence that chilled her in fear even as she realised what it was. Bastila stood up as the continuous breeze turned into an icy wind, blowing from the skies. Her hair finally slipped free and was blown into a cloud of brown and grey wildness around her. Above her the silhouette of the Ebon Hawk loomed out of the clouds.

The Hawk still flies after all this time...but is Revan there or not? The ship landed in the courtyard and Bastila could see that the hull was covered in burns from weapons fire. He will have changed, just like I have changed...will there be anything recognisable in us now? The loading ramp opened slowly and Bastila felt her breath catch in her throat. I thought myself content to live out my days without him, but given the chance there's nothing else I'd rather have.

A man limped slowly down the ramp, taking the weight off his wounded limb on a make shift crutch. It was Revan, twenty years older than when Bastila had last seen him: He had accumulated much more grey hairs than she had and far more scars. The closer he got to her, the more scars she could see criss-crossing his face. He had hardly been scar free the last time she had seen his flesh, she recalled, the memory of his warm body covering hers filled her mind.

Bastila realised she was standing there mutely staring while her almost crippled lover was trying to reach her. She broke free of her paralysis and ran to him, enfolding his tortured flesh in her weary arms. The cold wind blew around them and tangled up their hair together in knots. Bastila felt Revan's lips on her own and knew then, even without the force bond, that he still loved her as much as ever. She felt warm tears sliding down her face and didn't know if they were hers or his.

'I'm trying to make up for lost time.' Revan murmured and Bastila heard how his voice was choked with the same emotion that flooded through her. His voice hadn't changed that much and she saw that his eyes still had that fire that made her want to devour him whole.

And when Bastila's students arrived for their sparring class, they were very much surprised to find their teacher passionately kissing a strange, wild-looking, old man.