PANIC CORD ━━━ l.skywalker ¹

15

F I F T E E N

Clary can't stop thinking. She stares at her hands, R2-D2 by her side, as she waits for Luke to finish his training. Her mind isn't set on patience, though, as her brows crease in frustration: she can't stop thinking about what Yoda had said about the dark side, how it "tempts" her. The longer her thoughts linger on his words, the tenser she feels.

Her mind races at such speed her head begins to throb. She ignores the pain, trying to focus on something else, but she feels trapped—surrounded—and nothing can help her now. She wrings her hands together, and R2-D2 lets out a short beep from beside her. Clary forces a smile, reaching up as she pets the droid on the top of his head in attempts of reassurance, but her actions feel numb and false; controlled and hollow.

"No!" Clary brings her hands up to her head, gripping her hair tightly. She can't feel anything. She can't feel the pain; she feels empty. Yet the ache in her chest tells her otherwise. "I didn't do this, I couldn't have. He's my brother! I love him more than anything in my life—"

Clary swallows, throat dry and thoughts jumbled. She tries to ignore the ache in her chest, the twisting and the turning, and stares at her hands, once again wringing them nervously. She inhales sharply; thankfully R2-D2 is too invested with the swampy clearing surrounding them to pay much attention to Clary now.

The cloaked figure laughs cynically. They lift their head ever so slightly to reveal dark glittering eyes; these all-familiar glittering eyes are eyes Clary has seen before, yet she can't recall from where.

"But you did, Clary. And I couldn't be more proud of you."

Tears sting her eyes and she feels something raw and hot pulse through her veins, white and burning with pure anger. She loves Han more than anything in her life; he's the only family she's got left, along with Chewbacca. She's almost baffled at the sureness the figment of her nightmares seemed to possess—the audacity to challenge Clary with such a thought.

His eyes are open and his mouth in the beginning formation of a yell. Clary gasps, so startled from the sight she jumps backwards in alarm. She stares wide-eyed, not being able to grasp the situation clearly. He isn't moving—he isn't breathing. He isn't anything. He's nothing.

She feels her stomach twist uneasily at the thought, her hands feeling cold against the humidity of Dagobah. She wipes them down against the fabric on her legs. She can feel her mind spinning; it's an uncomfortable feeling, and Clary finds herself growing frustrated with the cloaked figure of her nightmares, the source of her confusion and jumbled mind, the source of her discomfort.

She looks up suddenly as stones smash against the clearing ground. R2-D2 beeps in alarm and Clary sees Luke standing on his hands. His face is creased in strain as he nearly glares at the two rocks sitting before him; one of them lifts from the ground, floating up to rest on the other.

"Use the Force, yes..." Yoda nods solemnly, sitting on Luke's feet. He taps his leg with his walking stick. Luke quickly lifts one of his hands from the ground. His body sways, but he maintains his balance. Clary finds herself watching him in awe, barely hearing R2-D2 whistling and beeping frantically from beside her.

"Now the stone," Yoda continues. "Feel it."

Luke concentrates on, yet again, trying to lift the top rock. His one arm holding himself and Yoda balanced shakes, as his other remains raised, held out in front of the stones. Clary watches intently. The rock rises a few feet into the air and Clary finds a small smile tugging at the ends of her lips. She finds him remarkable, absolutely intoxicating. She can't recall the last time she's ever been awed by someone. Luke notices Clary watching him and his expression softens, but a fierce look of ambition flashes in his eyes as he looks back at the rocks: the first rock floats a little higher than before, staggering. Clary's smile doesn't fade. Incredible.