Merrin and Cal - A Made up Love story

Connected Through the Force

The artifact pulsed faintly on the Mantis' workbench, its glow casting strange patterns on the walls of the dimly lit cabin. Cal sat cross-legged on the floor, his lightsaber hilt resting loosely in his lap. Across from him, Merrin knelt, her pale hands hovering above the artifact. The air between them shimmered with energy—not just from the artifact, but from something deeper, something unspoken yet tangible.

For days, they had been testing the artifact's limits, learning how its strange power resonated with Merrin's magick and Cal's connection to the Force. And for days, the artifact had drawn them closer, as if it were a mirror reflecting the bond they had forged through shared struggle and survival.

"Are you ready, Jedi?" Merrin asked, a faint smile on her lips.

Cal smirked. "Depends. You going to fry me this time?"

She raised a brow, her green eyes glowing faintly in the low light. "That only happened once."

"Twice," Cal corrected, holding up two fingers.

Merrin rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Then perhaps you should focus. The artifact responds to intent, after all."

He smiled at her, and for a moment, the tension in the room faded. Merrin had a way of grounding him, even in the midst of chaos. It was one of the many reasons he couldn't help but fall for her.

He took a deep breath, letting the Force flow through him. "All right. Let's try this again."

Merrin extended her hand, and Cal mirrored the gesture. Their fingers hovered inches apart, the artifact resting between them. As their hands aligned, the artifact flared to life, its green light mingling with the soft blue glow of Cal's Force aura.

The connection was instantaneous.

Cal felt himself pulled into a vision, a swirl of memories and emotions not entirely his own. He was standing in a vast, shadowy expanse, surrounded by flickering lights—echoes of the past. He saw fragments of Merrin's life: her childhood on Dathomir, the warmth of her family, the devastation of the Nightsister massacre.

The weight of her pain pressed against his chest, almost unbearable. But then, like a thread of light cutting through the darkness, he felt her strength—the fierce will that had carried her through so much.

"Merrin?" he called out, his voice echoing in the void.

"I am here," came her reply, soft but unwavering.

She appeared before him, her form wreathed in green fire. Cal reached for her, and their hands touched. The visions shifted, merging into something new—memories not of the past, but of them.

He saw the first time they had truly connected, on the barren cliffs of Zeffo. He felt the quiet moments aboard the Mantis, where they had learned to trust each other. He relived the countless battles where they had fought side by side, their bond growing stronger with every step.

And then, as if the artifact itself understood the depth of their connection, the visions changed again.

They stood together in a radiant field of light, the artifact hovering between them. Its energy no longer felt alien or chaotic. Instead, it was warm, steady—a reflection of the bond they shared.

"It's responding to us," Merrin said, her voice filled with wonder.

Cal nodded, his gaze locked on hers. "It's more than just power. It's... trust. Balance."

Merrin tilted her head, her expression softening. "The artifact feeds on intention, yes. But it also amplifies what is already within us."

Cal frowned. "And what's within us?"

Merrin stepped closer, her hand brushing his. "Connection. Between you and me. Between magick and the Force. The artifact is not just a tool—it is a reflection of what we bring to it."

He felt a surge of warmth at her words. For so long, he had carried the burden of being a Jedi, of surviving when so many others hadn't. But with Merrin, he didn't have to carry that weight alone. She understood him in a way no one else could, and in turn, he understood her.

"It's us," Cal realized, his voice barely above a whisper. "The artifact is drawing on our bond."

Merrin smiled, her green eyes alight with something that wasn't just magick—it was love. "Then perhaps it is not as dangerous as you feared."

"Maybe not," he said, his hand tightening around hers. "But I think we're dangerous enough on our own."

The vision began to fade, and they were back aboard the Mantis. The artifact's glow dimmed, its power settling into a quiet hum. Cal and Merrin sat in silence for a moment, their hands still intertwined.

"You felt it, didn't you?" Cal asked, his voice soft.

Merrin nodded. "The connection. It was... overwhelming, but not in a bad way."

Cal hesitated, searching her gaze. "Do you think the artifact... knows? About us?"

Merrin smirked. "Perhaps it does. Or perhaps it simply reflects what has always been there."

Her words lingered in the air, and Cal felt a flush rise to his cheeks. "And what's always been there?"

Merrin leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. "You tell me, Jedi."

Cal grinned, shaking his head. "You really don't make this easy, do you?"

"Where would the fun be in that?" she teased, though her tone carried a rare tenderness.

As they sat together, the artifact's faint glow casting shadows around them, Cal realized something profound. The artifact might be a tool of immense power, but its true strength came from something far simpler.

It wasn't just magick or the Force that gave it meaning. It was connection—between light and shadow, between past and present. Between Cal and Merrin.

And as they faced the challenges ahead, Cal knew one thing for certain: their bond would guide them through whatever the galaxy threw their way.