Fragments of the Dark

Chapter Twenty Seven

The power that brimmed within her was intoxicating.

The dark side of the Force surged around her, roiling in her anger, her rage, her passion.  She could live like this forever.

She'd forgotten what it felt like.

As the dust settled the villagers realized they had one.  A cry of triumph went up, shattering the night air.  Across the muddy grass and trenches, a lone figure stood up, climbing over the barricade.  His beskar shone in the moonlight.  Celene rolled her shoulders back.

"Are you hurt?"  He reached her quickly, an unusual note of worry in his voice.

She shook her head.  "I'm fine.  You?"

His hands clenched like he was trying to stop himself from reaching for her.  Touching her.  "I'm good.  We're all good.  Thanks to you."

She looked over her shoulder at the smoking, shriveled heap of the walker.  "I did what I could."

Cara was standing now, blaster in her hands, watching them.  Watching her.  Waiting. 

Celene began walking forward to where the shock trooper stood.  She stopped a few feet away.  Cara's grip tightened on the gun.  "Nice work out there."

"Thanks.  You too."  Tense silence stretched between them.  Then Cara sighed and dropped her blaster.  "Glad you're on our side."

Celene relaxed at her voice and let go of the small bit of Force energy she'd been gathering though the exhaustion was beginning to set in.  "Thank you for coming to help."  

Cara just gave her a grim nod and then turned away, disappearing into the fog.  Din glanced around at the celebrating villagers, embracing one another and their children.  "Should we find Grogu?"

Celene jerked her head to where he was in Winta's arms.  "Already found him.  Seems to be fitting right in."

He followed her gaze.  "That he does."

A few hours later, after rinsing the sweat and muck from her body, Celene was sitting in their lodging. A headache was pounding at her temples. She'd been too reckless with the amount of power she'd amassed in too short a time. She gripped a needle carefully between her fingers, sewing back in place the few stitches she'd ripped.  The cloth at the door rustled and she looked up as Din entered the space.

He dropped his weapons to the ground with a dull thud and propped his rifle against the wall.  "Winta and the other... children have insisted on allowing Grogu to spend the night with them."

Celene looked up with raised eyebrows.  "And you let him?  Surprising."

Din shook his head at her.  "Do you need help?  I thought you said you were fine."

"I'm fine, relax."  She knotted the thread and dropped her shirt back down.  I only ripped a few."

"What about your back?"

She gave a shrug.  "It feels fine."

"Let me see."

"For fuck's sake."  But she turned around, rolling her shirt up.  There was a rustle of cloth.  His touch made her jump. 

"They don't look torn."  His hand remained on her skin. 

"Okay."  She started to drop her shirt but he stopped her.

"Wait."

She blinked.  "What?"

"Just-" his voice dropped, words coming out haltingly.  "Just let me feel you."