rivulet027 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rivulet027) wrote2020-06-29 04:02 am
rivulet027) wrote2020-06-29 04:02 am
Entry tags:
Fic: I'm Counting On You (Star Wars, Gen)
Title: I'm Counting On You
Fandom: Star Wars Rogue One backstory
Characters: Mace, Chirrut, Plo, Jocasta, Dooku, Yoda
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Not all initiates become Jedi, Mace helps Chirrut find his place.
A/N: Written as a late entry for the Jedi June prompt Letting Go. Defiantly influenced by Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover and Guardians of the Whills by Greg Rucka. Title due to listening to "Drive" from the Percy Jackson musical while plotting this.
I'm Counting On You:
There's a small figure sitting in the middle of the hallway hugging their knees. There's a walking stick near them. Mace thinks they might be human if the tangle of dark hair is anything to go by. They feel sad, but it's not a passing quick sadness of being lost in a hallway. No, it’s a deep sort of sadness, the kind that's settled into their being. Maybe this is the reason for his restlessness, Mace muses. He's not usually one to roam the halls in the middle of the night.
Mace stops in front of them and they lift their head. Definitely human with black hair cropped just past their ears and blind.
"I'm not lost." There's a stubborn set to the youngling's jaw to accompany the words.
Mace would much rather be in his bed sleeping. Wouldn't Master Yoda or Sinube or even Knight Koon be a better comfort than him for this youngling? Mace breathes out through his nose and settles onto the floor. "I'm Mace."
"Chirrut," Chirrut tells him before scooting closer and then crawling into his lap. Mace stares down at Chirrut for a moment before carefully settling a supportive hand against Chirrut's back. He's tiny. Mace isn't used to helping instruct younglings that are this small. Chirrut leans against his shoulder and sighs. Mace pushes away his sudden urge to apologize.
"What has you out of bed in the middle of the night?" Mace asks.
"I needed to be sad."
This is clearly going to take awhile. Mace is suddenly grateful he sat down. "Why are you sad?"
Chirrut sighs again before reaching out and finding Mace's free arm, patting it, and then sliding his small hands down to wrap around Mace's hand. His voice is soft, barely there when he answers, "I wanted to be a Jedi."
Mace's first instinct is to offer reassurances. They all know that not every initiate decides to stay in the temple. There are also plenty of ways to be part of the Jedi Order without being a Knight or Master. Chirrut is young. He should be too young for anything to be decided yet, except when Mace looks at Chirrut all he can see how those words ring true. Chirrut isn't going to be a Jedi. Chirrut will be needed elsewhere.
"I'm allowed to be sad."
"Yes," Mace agrees. "I'm sad for you too."
Mace isn't sure how he'd take it if the Force was telling him he wouldn't be where it needed him if he stayed a Jedi. He's grateful it isn't him the Force is calling away from the Order. He's sad too, frustrated on Chirrut's behalf.
"You feel nice," Chirrut tells him.
Mace snorts. He's still working on his anger. He usually gets told he feels like a low simmer of resentment. Chirrut pats his hand. Mace really isn't sure how to comfort Chirrut or what the right thing to say is.
"Let's get a snack," Mace suggests. Younglings like food and a snack in the middle of the night should feel like an adventure, right?
Chirrut pushes off his lap and says, "You may carry me."
The mischief in Chirrut's smile makes Mace wonder if he should insist that Chirrut walk there.
As Mace stands Chirrut prompts, "My cane."
Mace retrieves it and hands it to him.
"Thank you," Chirrut says as he takes it and then holds his hands up so Mace can pick him up.
It’s a relief to find Plo Koon already sitting in the nearest kitchen datapad in one hand and tea in another. Plo looks up and gives them both a hum of acknowledgement, then busies himself making them more tea, the soothing kind that will help them go back to sleep and not the caffeinated kind that’s likely in his cup. Mace makes sure Chirrut is settled in a chair before finding him a booster seat and cookies. With Chirrut able to reach the table with the booster, he happily eats and drinks as he jabbers at Plo about his problems. Plo listens with interest. For a moment Mace thinks Plo is going to help Chirrut figure out where he’s supposed to be, but after they walk Chirrut back to his room Plo walks with Mace down the hall and Mace asks, “Where do you think he’s supposed to be?”
Plo tilts his head. “Mace, he’s at an age when younglings are mercurial. He’s likely had a rough day and you helped make it better.”
“But he’s right. He won’t be where the Force wants him to be if he stays here.”
“That’s up to Chirrut to decide,” Plo reminds warmly. “If you want to help him pursue this, then that’s admirable, but don’t push him or be disappointed if he changes his mind.”
Later that morning, after he manages a decent nap, Mace seeks out Chirrut’s instructors to figure out when he’ll have free time. Then he explains Chirrut’s dilemma to Master Nu. She listens patiently, but has the same words for him that Plo did.
“It’s up to him,” Mace agrees as diplomatically as he can.
Jocasta studies him for a moment, but agrees to meet them when Chirrut is free. There are smaller quieter self study rooms in the archives that they can use. She gives Chirrut his own datapad that will read any material in the archive outloud for him. Then teaches them both how to plug it into the desk so that they can search the archives and holonet to research.
When Jocasta takes him aside later Mace thinks for one bright shiny moment that she sees what he does when he looks at Chirrut.
“Thank you,” she tells him. “This will likely make him feel more comfortable using the archives and asking for assistance accessing them if he needs to. I know that’s not your goal, but he’s young and will likely change his mind.”
Mace doesn’t argue with her. He’s proud of himself for not starting an argument. In the past he would have. Instead he reigns in his frustration and continues to assist Chirrut in his search when they both have the time. There are several different orders and temples where the will of the Force is followed. There are even Jedi temples that are occasionally visited and carefully maintained, even if they aren’t used regularly.
Chirrut doesn’t waiver, he doesn’t change his mind, even as two years slowly go past.
In a quiet somber moment he tells Mace, “If I stay here I’ll die and then I won’t be where I’ll be needed most.”
For the most part though, Chirrut is a bright happy child with a ready smile, enough so that Mace wonders if he’s somehow the only one frustrated that it’s taking so long to find where Chirrut belongs, especially since he still seems to be the only one that sees the validity in Chirrut’s belief that he’s not meant to be a Jedi. There seems to be a prevailing belief that if Chirrut is shown all the different options of ways to be part of the Order that his belief will change and he’ll stay. Tera Sinube includes Chirrut in running an investigation. Chirrut isn’t there for the actual catching of the criminal, but he gets to see what goes into sorting out the clues of the puzzle that lead to Sinube helping to arrest someone. Jocasta Nu gets Chirrut to be part of her team that helps to catalogue older Jedi temples and visit the different groups their Order is affiliated with, but it’s clear she’s doing so to see if his interest will lead to him taking on more responsibility as part of her team, not in helping him find a place to go to. Chirrut spends time learning with the healers, but finds he doesn’t have a strong aptitude for it. He also spends time learning how to help care for and maintain the different habitats and environments in the temple. He takes all these lessons with an enthusiasm and steady patience that Mace almost envies.
It probably helps that no one is dismissing Chirrut. They clearly all think they’re helping him explore avenues of interest while being patient and finding him opportunities to learn. None of them seem to see Chirrut the same way Mace does.
“It’s enough that you see what I mean. You’ll help me,” Chirrut says.
Then Chirrut comes back from a field trip with his crechemates to NiJedha. Mace is returning from a mission at the same time. Chirrut yells his name and starts towards him, using the Force and his cane to navigate.
“Stop wandering away from the group,” Dooku instructs in that long suffering way that says he’s been corralling the younglings for far too long.
“I’ve got him,” Mace tries to reassure as he meets Chirrut.
His eyebrows raise when Chirrut clings to his robes and says, “You’ll help me. You believe me.”
Mace gives Chirrut a hug, “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll take him,” Dooku says as he reaches them.
“I found where I’m supposed to be and they made me leave!”
Dooku breathes a frustrated breath out through his nose. “No, you made a friend your age and didn’t want to stop playing.”
Chirrut shudders and turns, face stubborn and upset, but voice steady, “Baze is a year older than me.”
Dooku gives Mace a long suffering look over Chirrut’s head.
“He’s making that face! I can tell! Tell him to stop making that face,” Chirrut demands as he burst into tears and leans into Mace. “You believe me. You believe me.”
“I’ve got him,” Mace reiterates. He’s not sure if it’s the concern for Chirrut, the stoniness of his face or the ice in his voice that gets Dooku to agree, but he settles down so Chirrut can hug him. Mace stays there offering comfort until Chirrut is ready to talk to him.
“The Temple of the Kyber,” Chirrut informs him.
“We’ll fix this,” Mace promises.
He goes to Yoda because it’s a comfort to sit in a dim room on a soft chair and find a way to describe what he’s dealing with in a way that will help him persuade others.
“See the world the same as others you do not,” Yoda reminds him.
“Not always,” Mace agrees. It’s taken some time, but he’s come to understand that the way he sees shatterpoints and the will of the Force is unique. Finding a way to describe this isn’t always easy either. Mace hugs his knees and tilts his head considering. If Yoda agrees with him and Chirrut then it will be easier to arrange a transfer to the Temple of the Kyber for Chirrut. It’s important that he find the right words. Mace breathes out then takes a slow breath in, letting his shoulder relax as he thinks.
“It’s been two years. It’s clear that Chirrut’s certainty that he’ll do the most good serving with a different Order hasn’t changed. When I look at him I can see the conviction and how true his words are.”
“Good he would still do, if here he was to say,” Yoda points out.
Mace considers this, an argument that Yoda knows will be made if they take this matter to the Counsel. Mace wets his lips and sighs, “He would be excellent here. He’s bright and learns quickly. He would be an asset to the Jedi Order, but we wouldn’t be an asset to him. This isn’t where he feels he’s supposed to be. He wouldn’t flourish here the way he would on NiJedha.”
“Seen him there you have not.” Another argument, another point Mace will need to consider when advocating for Chirrut.
“But I’ve seen him. I’ve worked with him. I know how strongly he believes in the Force and how much he wants to follow it’s guidance. The Temple of the Kyber is where it is leading him, who are we to deny that?”
“Good, good,” Yoda praises.
Mace feels his lips quirk up at the praises and also the serene certainty coming from Yoda. “But will it be enough?”
Yoda hops off his chair and makes his way over. He pats Mace on the arms. “Enough it is. Arrangements I will make.”
NiJedha feels arid, but the Force is strong here and Mace closes his eyes letting himself feel the joy of it. Chirrut’s hand is still tiny in his, but his grip is firm and the relief to be here and joy of finding his place roll off him in waves. A Guardian of the Whills meets them at their landing site. Yoda had included Mace and Chirrut in making the arrangements for Chirrut’s transfer as much as he could. Chirrut hugs him goodbye. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me help you,” Mace says.
Chirrut grins at him, then turns to the Guardian and takes their hand. Mace watches them walk away until the two of them are out of sight.
Fandom: Star Wars Rogue One backstory
Characters: Mace, Chirrut, Plo, Jocasta, Dooku, Yoda
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Not all initiates become Jedi, Mace helps Chirrut find his place.
A/N: Written as a late entry for the Jedi June prompt Letting Go. Defiantly influenced by Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover and Guardians of the Whills by Greg Rucka. Title due to listening to "Drive" from the Percy Jackson musical while plotting this.
I'm Counting On You:
There's a small figure sitting in the middle of the hallway hugging their knees. There's a walking stick near them. Mace thinks they might be human if the tangle of dark hair is anything to go by. They feel sad, but it's not a passing quick sadness of being lost in a hallway. No, it’s a deep sort of sadness, the kind that's settled into their being. Maybe this is the reason for his restlessness, Mace muses. He's not usually one to roam the halls in the middle of the night.
Mace stops in front of them and they lift their head. Definitely human with black hair cropped just past their ears and blind.
"I'm not lost." There's a stubborn set to the youngling's jaw to accompany the words.
Mace would much rather be in his bed sleeping. Wouldn't Master Yoda or Sinube or even Knight Koon be a better comfort than him for this youngling? Mace breathes out through his nose and settles onto the floor. "I'm Mace."
"Chirrut," Chirrut tells him before scooting closer and then crawling into his lap. Mace stares down at Chirrut for a moment before carefully settling a supportive hand against Chirrut's back. He's tiny. Mace isn't used to helping instruct younglings that are this small. Chirrut leans against his shoulder and sighs. Mace pushes away his sudden urge to apologize.
"What has you out of bed in the middle of the night?" Mace asks.
"I needed to be sad."
This is clearly going to take awhile. Mace is suddenly grateful he sat down. "Why are you sad?"
Chirrut sighs again before reaching out and finding Mace's free arm, patting it, and then sliding his small hands down to wrap around Mace's hand. His voice is soft, barely there when he answers, "I wanted to be a Jedi."
Mace's first instinct is to offer reassurances. They all know that not every initiate decides to stay in the temple. There are also plenty of ways to be part of the Jedi Order without being a Knight or Master. Chirrut is young. He should be too young for anything to be decided yet, except when Mace looks at Chirrut all he can see how those words ring true. Chirrut isn't going to be a Jedi. Chirrut will be needed elsewhere.
"I'm allowed to be sad."
"Yes," Mace agrees. "I'm sad for you too."
Mace isn't sure how he'd take it if the Force was telling him he wouldn't be where it needed him if he stayed a Jedi. He's grateful it isn't him the Force is calling away from the Order. He's sad too, frustrated on Chirrut's behalf.
"You feel nice," Chirrut tells him.
Mace snorts. He's still working on his anger. He usually gets told he feels like a low simmer of resentment. Chirrut pats his hand. Mace really isn't sure how to comfort Chirrut or what the right thing to say is.
"Let's get a snack," Mace suggests. Younglings like food and a snack in the middle of the night should feel like an adventure, right?
Chirrut pushes off his lap and says, "You may carry me."
The mischief in Chirrut's smile makes Mace wonder if he should insist that Chirrut walk there.
As Mace stands Chirrut prompts, "My cane."
Mace retrieves it and hands it to him.
"Thank you," Chirrut says as he takes it and then holds his hands up so Mace can pick him up.
It’s a relief to find Plo Koon already sitting in the nearest kitchen datapad in one hand and tea in another. Plo looks up and gives them both a hum of acknowledgement, then busies himself making them more tea, the soothing kind that will help them go back to sleep and not the caffeinated kind that’s likely in his cup. Mace makes sure Chirrut is settled in a chair before finding him a booster seat and cookies. With Chirrut able to reach the table with the booster, he happily eats and drinks as he jabbers at Plo about his problems. Plo listens with interest. For a moment Mace thinks Plo is going to help Chirrut figure out where he’s supposed to be, but after they walk Chirrut back to his room Plo walks with Mace down the hall and Mace asks, “Where do you think he’s supposed to be?”
Plo tilts his head. “Mace, he’s at an age when younglings are mercurial. He’s likely had a rough day and you helped make it better.”
“But he’s right. He won’t be where the Force wants him to be if he stays here.”
“That’s up to Chirrut to decide,” Plo reminds warmly. “If you want to help him pursue this, then that’s admirable, but don’t push him or be disappointed if he changes his mind.”
Later that morning, after he manages a decent nap, Mace seeks out Chirrut’s instructors to figure out when he’ll have free time. Then he explains Chirrut’s dilemma to Master Nu. She listens patiently, but has the same words for him that Plo did.
“It’s up to him,” Mace agrees as diplomatically as he can.
Jocasta studies him for a moment, but agrees to meet them when Chirrut is free. There are smaller quieter self study rooms in the archives that they can use. She gives Chirrut his own datapad that will read any material in the archive outloud for him. Then teaches them both how to plug it into the desk so that they can search the archives and holonet to research.
When Jocasta takes him aside later Mace thinks for one bright shiny moment that she sees what he does when he looks at Chirrut.
“Thank you,” she tells him. “This will likely make him feel more comfortable using the archives and asking for assistance accessing them if he needs to. I know that’s not your goal, but he’s young and will likely change his mind.”
Mace doesn’t argue with her. He’s proud of himself for not starting an argument. In the past he would have. Instead he reigns in his frustration and continues to assist Chirrut in his search when they both have the time. There are several different orders and temples where the will of the Force is followed. There are even Jedi temples that are occasionally visited and carefully maintained, even if they aren’t used regularly.
Chirrut doesn’t waiver, he doesn’t change his mind, even as two years slowly go past.
In a quiet somber moment he tells Mace, “If I stay here I’ll die and then I won’t be where I’ll be needed most.”
For the most part though, Chirrut is a bright happy child with a ready smile, enough so that Mace wonders if he’s somehow the only one frustrated that it’s taking so long to find where Chirrut belongs, especially since he still seems to be the only one that sees the validity in Chirrut’s belief that he’s not meant to be a Jedi. There seems to be a prevailing belief that if Chirrut is shown all the different options of ways to be part of the Order that his belief will change and he’ll stay. Tera Sinube includes Chirrut in running an investigation. Chirrut isn’t there for the actual catching of the criminal, but he gets to see what goes into sorting out the clues of the puzzle that lead to Sinube helping to arrest someone. Jocasta Nu gets Chirrut to be part of her team that helps to catalogue older Jedi temples and visit the different groups their Order is affiliated with, but it’s clear she’s doing so to see if his interest will lead to him taking on more responsibility as part of her team, not in helping him find a place to go to. Chirrut spends time learning with the healers, but finds he doesn’t have a strong aptitude for it. He also spends time learning how to help care for and maintain the different habitats and environments in the temple. He takes all these lessons with an enthusiasm and steady patience that Mace almost envies.
It probably helps that no one is dismissing Chirrut. They clearly all think they’re helping him explore avenues of interest while being patient and finding him opportunities to learn. None of them seem to see Chirrut the same way Mace does.
“It’s enough that you see what I mean. You’ll help me,” Chirrut says.
Then Chirrut comes back from a field trip with his crechemates to NiJedha. Mace is returning from a mission at the same time. Chirrut yells his name and starts towards him, using the Force and his cane to navigate.
“Stop wandering away from the group,” Dooku instructs in that long suffering way that says he’s been corralling the younglings for far too long.
“I’ve got him,” Mace tries to reassure as he meets Chirrut.
His eyebrows raise when Chirrut clings to his robes and says, “You’ll help me. You believe me.”
Mace gives Chirrut a hug, “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll take him,” Dooku says as he reaches them.
“I found where I’m supposed to be and they made me leave!”
Dooku breathes a frustrated breath out through his nose. “No, you made a friend your age and didn’t want to stop playing.”
Chirrut shudders and turns, face stubborn and upset, but voice steady, “Baze is a year older than me.”
Dooku gives Mace a long suffering look over Chirrut’s head.
“He’s making that face! I can tell! Tell him to stop making that face,” Chirrut demands as he burst into tears and leans into Mace. “You believe me. You believe me.”
“I’ve got him,” Mace reiterates. He’s not sure if it’s the concern for Chirrut, the stoniness of his face or the ice in his voice that gets Dooku to agree, but he settles down so Chirrut can hug him. Mace stays there offering comfort until Chirrut is ready to talk to him.
“The Temple of the Kyber,” Chirrut informs him.
“We’ll fix this,” Mace promises.
He goes to Yoda because it’s a comfort to sit in a dim room on a soft chair and find a way to describe what he’s dealing with in a way that will help him persuade others.
“See the world the same as others you do not,” Yoda reminds him.
“Not always,” Mace agrees. It’s taken some time, but he’s come to understand that the way he sees shatterpoints and the will of the Force is unique. Finding a way to describe this isn’t always easy either. Mace hugs his knees and tilts his head considering. If Yoda agrees with him and Chirrut then it will be easier to arrange a transfer to the Temple of the Kyber for Chirrut. It’s important that he find the right words. Mace breathes out then takes a slow breath in, letting his shoulder relax as he thinks.
“It’s been two years. It’s clear that Chirrut’s certainty that he’ll do the most good serving with a different Order hasn’t changed. When I look at him I can see the conviction and how true his words are.”
“Good he would still do, if here he was to say,” Yoda points out.
Mace considers this, an argument that Yoda knows will be made if they take this matter to the Counsel. Mace wets his lips and sighs, “He would be excellent here. He’s bright and learns quickly. He would be an asset to the Jedi Order, but we wouldn’t be an asset to him. This isn’t where he feels he’s supposed to be. He wouldn’t flourish here the way he would on NiJedha.”
“Seen him there you have not.” Another argument, another point Mace will need to consider when advocating for Chirrut.
“But I’ve seen him. I’ve worked with him. I know how strongly he believes in the Force and how much he wants to follow it’s guidance. The Temple of the Kyber is where it is leading him, who are we to deny that?”
“Good, good,” Yoda praises.
Mace feels his lips quirk up at the praises and also the serene certainty coming from Yoda. “But will it be enough?”
Yoda hops off his chair and makes his way over. He pats Mace on the arms. “Enough it is. Arrangements I will make.”
NiJedha feels arid, but the Force is strong here and Mace closes his eyes letting himself feel the joy of it. Chirrut’s hand is still tiny in his, but his grip is firm and the relief to be here and joy of finding his place roll off him in waves. A Guardian of the Whills meets them at their landing site. Yoda had included Mace and Chirrut in making the arrangements for Chirrut’s transfer as much as he could. Chirrut hugs him goodbye. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me help you,” Mace says.
Chirrut grins at him, then turns to the Guardian and takes their hand. Mace watches them walk away until the two of them are out of sight.