Drabbles: JACEN, TAHIRI Rating: PG
Iella

These drabbles are inspired by Jacen's emotional abuse of Tahiri in Inferno, in the Prologue, where he flow-walks her back to the Baanu Ras so she can, supposedly, "deal with her unresolved grief." In other words so he can use her as a spy.

The tenses may sound a bit mixed up, but I'm trying to evoke the sense of both past and present becoming a little confused — i.e. some events / feelings are securely anchored in the past while others still resonate. (My understanding of flow-walking is that there must be a spacial anchor point in common between past or future and present, as it is not the same as time travel.)

From TFN: A Drabble is an extremely short work of fiction with exactly one hundred words. The purpose of the drabble is to teach brevity and test author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space. They must be 100 words each. No more, no less.



JACEN, TAHIRI                                    

He has her hanging on a thread, clinging, helpless to resist its sticky promises of absolution, of reassurance that the boy she loved died knowing how much. Their love — unrealized, tragically thwarted, and yet so pure that it shines ...

Shone.

Such a pity he needs to taint it; but what must be, must be. It's part of the price he must pay, one of the sacrifices he will be forced to make for the greater good.

And so she swings, a pendulum arcing from grief to release to hunger. And he knows that for her once can never be enough.

                                   

There was a time when he, sensing the separation wound deep inside this girl, would have sought to repair it, to apply soothing balm to the jagged suppurating flesh ... would have felt her raw pain as keenly as she did. There was a time he might have told her that she was family, his family, the sister-in-law he might have had.

But the pendulum has ticked from empathy to usury. And now she is simply a means to an end, a necessary step in his ascension ... or fall ... and fall? Whatever the case, her wellbeing is part of his sacrifice.

                                   

He once believed that addiction was something to be avoided at all cost. And pushers? Well, scum of the galaxy really, cruelly trading people's weaknesses for personal profit. He hunts them down.

And yet here he is creating an addict, feeding her enough of the spice she craves to guarantee her return for more ... and more ... all for the base credits of self-protection. Ironic? Situational ethics are a wondrous thing when necessity intervenes.

He rides the pendulum with her from passion to grief, exulting in the blackness of the abyss beneath him. A woman in mourning is such easy prey.


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