Chirrut Imwe (
idontneedluck) wrote2017-06-18 03:04 pm
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AU Kid!Ibani - The Wind
Chirrut doesn't often ask things of the Force, but as the fall edges its way into winter, he has been asking for one thing daily. He prays that this year, the winds don't come. Life with Ibani has settled down into a comfortable routine, and he doesn't want that broken up. He doesn't want her to see him hanging on to his temper with his teeth, doesn't want her to see the spectacle of him needing to be beaten down like a feral creature.
He's afraid of what would happen then.
The Force does not grant him his wish.
One morning he awakes with his skin already crawling, the thin high whistle of the oncoming winter wind already ripping at his peace. He works hard to ignore it - harder than he ever has in his life, even more than the year after the disastrous match with Baze and Eiko.
He makes it through breakfast before he starts to feel his temper fraying. He wants to beg Baze to take Ibani away, somewhere far away, but it's getting to be too cold to go out of the city on frivolous pursuits. It will only lead to a fight.
Chirrut knows despair then. He's not getting past this day without being bloodied.
He's afraid of what would happen then.
The Force does not grant him his wish.
One morning he awakes with his skin already crawling, the thin high whistle of the oncoming winter wind already ripping at his peace. He works hard to ignore it - harder than he ever has in his life, even more than the year after the disastrous match with Baze and Eiko.
He makes it through breakfast before he starts to feel his temper fraying. He wants to beg Baze to take Ibani away, somewhere far away, but it's getting to be too cold to go out of the city on frivolous pursuits. It will only lead to a fight.
Chirrut knows despair then. He's not getting past this day without being bloodied.
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She grounds her staff, offering the prone Chirrut a cool, assessing stare. "Guardian Malbus," she says, and Baze snaps to attention, despite the way he aches, "take him to the infirmary."
She strides powerfully off the mat, and pauses at Ibani's side. "I suspect you and I need to have a chat," Master Sheotar says, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do you have any questions for me?"
Baze scraps Chirrut off the mat and carts him away, leaving their staves behind.
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"Your father is a stubborn man, Ibani. Both of them are. They will be fine, given time to rest and recover."
Chirrut only rouses, fitfully, once already in the infirmary. They have him pinned to the bed, still wary until he can prove he's done - there was one year he hadn't been worn down, but struck down early in the fight.
That'd been an exciting day.
"Baze?" He murmurs, slurred.
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"Chirrut," Baze says, taking one of his hands, the one that isn't completely strapped to the bed and with splinted fingers. "I'm here, but I have to go find Ibani. I have to tell her we're okay. Wait for me, all right?"
And then he dashes off to find their little girl and apologize profusely.
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She, for one, would not subject a child to the sight of a battered Chirrut Imwe.
Chirrut, back in the infirmary, is fretting. What is wrong with Ibani, that Baze needs to run off and tend to her?
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"Ibani, thank the Force you're still here," Baze says, kneeling down to offer her a hug. "I'm so sorry that we worried you."
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"I was scared I was going to lose both of you, like I lost Ma'Vena," she says quietly, trying not to cry and only mostly succeeding.
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There is a brief flare of fury and worry in the Force, and then Chirrut is taking a drug-assisted nap.
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"I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing his forehead to hers and wrapping his arms around her. There's nothing more he can say, really, nothing that will take away the pain they inflicted on her. Seeing them fight like that... Baze is sorry. Sorrow and guilt needle at his heart, piercing him through.
"Chirrut... just... The wind, it makes him wild," Baze says. Words fail him. How can he explain this to an eight-year-old? "Sometimes he needs violence to cage him back into his bones."
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It's still horribly unfair, and if she could she'd drive the wind away forever, but she can't.
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And she is not allowed to watch. Baze doesn't think he even needs to spell that out.
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She takes a deep breath. "I won't be so scared, when you have to fight again, now that I know." Which isn't to say she won't be a little scared, that would probably be asking too much.
"Please, I need to see him."
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"No," he says, wincing. He hates saying no to her, especially today. Especially now. "I don't want you setting foot in that infirmary. And I don't want you to watch us fight, either. I'm sorry, little one."
Baze casts about for another topic, something that will appease her. "Now, are you hungry? Should we get some food and then rest?"
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A very uncomfortable minute passes before she huffs a "Fine."
"Food wouldn't hurt, I suppose," she allows, grudgingly. Plans are starting to form in the back of her mind already.
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"All right, let's go," he says, and takes her hand to lead her to the kitchens.
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She's not allowed to set foot in the infirmary. Can she sneak in? No, probably not, they'll be watching for her.
A memory stirs in the back of her mind, of when she was little, when she was very sick. She'd wanted Ma'Vena, but was too weak to stand and go to her. She'd....left her body, gone across the way to where Ma'Vena was. Could she do that here?
Ibani eats with her usual gusto, but she's clearly distracted. The distraction might be passed off as a reaction to, well, everything that's happened today.
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Will Chirrut react poorly when he realizes that Ibani saw them fighting? Baze should be there for him. But the larger Guardian doesn't want to leave Ibani. What to do, what to do?
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"I think I should go to bed," Ibani says at last, as they finish their meal. Not that she plans to SLEEP, of course.
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"If you think that's best," he says, and carts their dishes to the sink. He'll get to them later. Baze leads her to their rooms and waits for her to get ready for bed. He tucks her in and kisses her forehead.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he says, guilt stabbing at him again. "I'm going to check on your dad."
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She shuts her eyes and falls into a meditative trance, going deeper and deeper into the Force, deeper than she ever has before. The song of the Kyber crystals fills the galaxy, brilliant prisms of white light dancing all around her.
"Can you help me, please?" she asks them. "I need to go and see Chirrut Imwe, my dad. I don't know that I'm strong enough to reach that far from my body."
They don't answer in words, what need do they have for such things? But their song quickens and she feels filled up with light, with strength. "Thank you!" she calls as she walks toward the presence of Chirrut Imwe.
The walls present no barrier, transparent things that they are to her Force sight. She dodges around the solid glow of living things, moving toward the infirmary faster than Baze without the constraints of a body.
She goes through the infirmary wall, and she sees Chirrut, lying there. It hurts, to see him so damaged, but it hurts less than the fear of not knowing.
"Oh, dad," she whispers, with voiceless worry and love. She moves beside Chirrut, hoping her presence will comfort him as much as his presence comforts her when she's ill.
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Wait.
Something woke him up.
Something was important.
He lolls his head in her general direction, frowning muzzily.
"Ibani?"
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Then he books it down to the infirmary as fast as his injuries will allow. He's getting too old to be beaten on like he was today; his knees ache and his back is sore and his nose hurts something fierce under the bacta patch. He rounds the corner to see Chirrut moving his head.
"Oh, you're awake," Baze says, scurrying to his friend's side. "Hello, handsome."
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Ibani tries to say hello to Chirrut, then realizes she doesn't have lungs or anything else to speak with. Well, kark it. She settles for attempting to BE as as strongly as possible, shouting in the Force to Chirrut that she's here, and projecting feelings of love, concern, and the emotional equivalent of a hug.
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"I didn't hurt you?" It's his first question, or perhaps demand - it has been for years now. "They won't tell me..."
But his attention keeps drifting off. It's not just Baze here, but... Baze is solid in his senses, not just in the Force - the heat of him; the sound of his robes and the creak of leather as he shifts his weight, the soft sounds of breathing and fainter still at this distance a steady heartbeat; the smell of him - sweat and blood and bacta, the last two giving him grief knowing he caused it.
But still...
There's pain in his face as well as his voice as he asks, roughly, in Jedhan:
"You brought Ibani?"
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