Private At The Break of Dawn

[Palm-Imer]

Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

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No, she hadn't. She knew that now.

For a moment, she wondered if it had been selfishness. Palm knew what he had gone through, what it would have meant to try and shoulder one more loss that he would've talked himself into believing had been on his hands. She almost put him through that grief all over again...but she could not, in any way, bring herself to regret it. The choice she had made once she would repeat a thousand times if given the choice. Sacrifice could not be parted from loyalty, specially not from the kind of loyalty that had moved her to give her all.

The corners of his lips curved upwards, causing a warmth she had missed dearly to flicker within her chest. She responded to the smile with one of her own, a weak but honest one. The torment that now resided in her mind and soul was too much for genuine, plain joyfulness; if there was anything or anyone that stood a to chance to replenish some of that well missed happiness it was the lupine. Right now, she was more than content. He was alive and well, that was all she could ask for.

"You saved me twice," Her voice sounded tired and it still carried pain, but she managed to pull through and keep at least a semblance of humor to her demeanor. "...couldn't leave the universe with that score."

Silence took over once again, and just like he had done a moment before the geminaie took the chance to look at him. A part of her was still in slight disbelief, she had seen him hurt and disappear so many times during the onslaught of her guilt that there would be no reassurance sufficient to put her fear of something being wrong with him at ease. But there wasn't anything wrong right now. He was here. He was okay. Palm could see then that he had noticed the struggle that had helped put those unshed tears in her eyes.

She had had to leave the Force, or risk being devoured by her own unleashed darkness.

Then he asked a question that made her eyes dart up to his. They were filled with apprehensive surprise, in that instant they held a deepness that was barely enough to contain the extent of the feelings that the memory of what she thought would be her last moment brought back into her mind. In the face of death, she had bared her mind and her heart before him. Now he asked why she had sacrificed so much for him. He knew why, but perhaps he didn't want to see it yet. Palm would not force him to acknowledge the charge that she had unjustly pushed onto him.

"Just like I know why you resent me for not having let you go, for not keeping my vows or choosing to live..." He must have been angry with her, she would have been too. "...You know why I didn't have a choice at all. Not really." Her heart was spoken for, and her actions had been nothing but faithful to what she had already revealed before him. She had had nothing to fear from death, and everything to lose if she did not embrace it. Death was sometimes kinder than Love.

Palm knew what was coming then, and she didn't want to hear it. If she could have reached out to him, stop the thought in its tracks, she would have. Instead, she voiced her thoughts as soon as the dreaded words left his tongue. "This was not your fault."

The geminaie then thought of her recent past. Of the year or so before she had found her way into a training room where she waited for a Lord Marshall. She thought of the denial she had carried way before that day, of the proof she had turned a blind eye to. She had left the darkness fester, and it had simply taken the long awaited chance to fully creep in. For the first time, she would admit it to herself. Her eyes fell to the ground between them.

"This began long before I met you, and I chose to ignore and deny it because that was easier than admitting I was losing my way, going against everything I once held dear," Each word drove a stake into her already hurting heart, and she willed herself not to stop there. "All you did was show me that I didn't need to be afraid. That I could be stronger without losing myself. That that strength could be shared." If only she had understood this before, things would have been different, she should have faced her demons when they first revealed themselves. "If there is anyone to blame, it is me."

There was a pause as she gathered her courage, the amber gaze rising to meet the icy one.

"At least I can take comfort in knowing that I can bare these consequences. We are both here still, so every barrier, limit, and vow - I would break them again if I had to."

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Palm’s answer rang in his ears as it made its way to Gerwald’s mind. He knew why. Yes, Gerwald was very aware of why the woman could not let him die. The reason she had sacrificed everything, crossed the barriers that every obstacle presented, and embraced a darkness she had spent her life avoiding, was because her love would not allow him to die.

His mind watched her fall once more. Memories of that instant flooded his mind as Palm opened everything to him. Who she was, everything she felt, the secrets her heart contained, all laid bare before the lupine as he used every ounce of his remaining energy to slow her fall. He even recalled the smile on his face as the realization that she loved him settled in his heart. Many had used that word, love, and even more demanded something from the wolf in return. Only two people had not. Naedira had never used the word, and Gerwald had been certain her love was not the same he held for her, but it was love nonetheless. Now it had been Palm. Again she did not use the word, but had expressed it regardless.

Neither had ever asked him to change, or offered their devotion to gain something from him.

It was not this revelation which caused Gerwald to pause, but how she had answered him in the first place.

"Just like I know why you resent me for not having let you go, for not keeping my vows or choosing to live..."​

“I do not resent you.”

The answer came with a confident tone, but inside Gerwald was not sure. Did he resent her for not allowing him to save her? He had been happy. The wolf had been ready to perish knowing that Palm loved him, and that he had saved her life when he had failed so many times before. His eyes searched hers for the answer, only to see the tears which she held there. She refused to let them fall.

Gerwald grew silent as he sat at the foot of the cot, canting his head toward the woman as she began her futile attempt to explain why this had not been his fault. She knew he would never let himself believe anything else. Palm could explain to him over and over how and why she made the choices that she had, but Gerwald would always look back at the decisions he made and knew that had he chosen otherwise, she would not be in the medbay. Palm would not have sacrificed so much to save his life.

What neither of them would admit was that there was no one to blame. Yes, they were both responsible for their decisions, and the actions they took in that moment, but who could blame either for the outcome.

Duty. Gerwald loathed the word now more than ever. It had made demands both were willing to pay, and did. Both of them carried through what was demanded of them with every choice they made, and every life they had saved, including each other.

For the first time since Palm had woken up, Gerwald’s features softened enough to let her know that he was truly listening to her. This time as his eyes found hers once more, there was no argument in them. He knew her feelings, even if he refused to give voice to them, and she was aware of his, even if he did not return the same gift of confirming her knowledge. His feelings had only been expressed to one. Another memory surfaced of another that had confessed feelings, only for Gerwald to spurn them. He had been so young, foolish, in those days.

Gerwald remained silent on the matter, because he was determined that those feelings, and words, carried a weight to them. Spoken too soon they became an obligation, and spoken too late they remained a burden of the heart. He knew Palm would not have let him in so soon had she thought she would live. The lupine knew this. As she lay in the bed, Gerwald was privy to every secret she had, and despite the fact she closed herself off to the force, the wolf likely knew what she was possibly thinking.

His hand reached for hers. To some it was a simple act, but not for Gerwald. Naboo had brought the two close, so close that even the smallest of gestures was significant. He laced his fingers between hers as a knowing smile touched his lips. While her mind was closed off to him, her touch was not.

“You should not have…”

Gerwald’s reply was quiet. There was a calm to it that conceded he no longer wanted to argue about who was to blame, nor would he. What she had done was done, and the thing he tried to do had passed as well.

“Your promise to me did not extend as far as you took it. Every time you make a vow to me, you pledge yourself more and more. You follow it to a place where the demands that promise makes of you are ones that I cannot bear the thought of.”

He was quiet for a moment as he looked away.

“You should have let me die.”

There was a conviction to his statement, as though he believed it… knew it… to be right.

“My life is not worth what you gave in exchange for it, so you will make me one more promise, Palm-Imer…”

Blue eyes met with Amber.

“...not again… not… again. I could not bear the weight of another life lost when it was in my power to save, and save you I did.”
​

 

[Palm-Imer]

Tagging: Gerwald Lechner

​

The life that was hers to lead had always been one of solitude. Since the very day that she was sent away to fulfill her duty, she had lifted every struggle and had taken every step, alone. There was no room for company in the life of an Ambassador, except for the love and devotion for the people they protected that would follow them everywhere and fill them with longing and an ever lasting melancholy. This loneliness had never been truly grieving to her, for then she had believed it necessary and embraced it.

But that had changed, too.

When she was submerged into that nothingness, she was alone. When her mind emerged only to be met by a world of torture and pain enacted by the darkness, she had fought and lost to it alone. And now, back in the world of the living and the conscious where her connection the living Force should have made her feel as one with that which was around her, with him, she remained caged in suffocating isolation. A ghost made of bone and flesh. Now it did hurt, it ate away at her heart. Because now she knew what connection truly was, and the strength it brought.

She was bound once again, this time by a different chain. Sometimes fate was cruel. It had shown her what her life could be now that she had began breaking free from her fears, now that he had shown her how to. Then it had taken it all away, thrown her into the depths of every weakness she ever had. In that dark place Palm had needed him, but he could not follow her into it. Now he was here, and she could not reach him. As he stood before her she could not seek solace in his presence, she couldn't let him in.

The weight of this realization threatened to be too much, the place she had made for him within her own mind and presence was now empty. Palm closed her eyes, the dark lashes that framed them becoming heavy with the stagnant tears that had now been wiped. This solitude felt like punishment, another cost in the list of sacrifices she had made. It was, perhaps, the most painful one.

She did not see him reach for her, nor could she feel him move through the Force. The feeling of his hand sliding against hers came as a surprise. Her heart thumped heavily within her chest as their fingers were intertwined, and the amber eyes were opened once again at its behest to look at him. She could not feel him in the way she was used to, yet this gesture, even if it was just an innocent and caring touch contrasted with an immensity that only the blessed few could experience, could hold just as much power. Could hold just as much meaning to her. Palm had never though she could feel so strongly for anyone, he was the proof that she could.

Gerwald held the whole of her attention as he spoke. He held so many things that were hers which she had given with no request and no demands. As he pointed out, among those things, she had given her promise. Those promises had taken precedence over any other pledges Palm had sworn because of the one thing that had birthed them. The most powerful and dangerous thing on this universe. He had made similar promises for the same reason, which she knew he would keep as fiercely as she did hers.

They had reached an understanding once again, or so it would seem, for a moment. Yes, she had been willing to make every sacrifice and so had he. No matter the roles they chose to play that would remain an unchangeable truth. An ever present struggle. They were standing at the place where duty and the thing they had not wanted to name, battled for dominance. And they were cursed with the knowledge that whenever those were faced, duty would be allowed to win. They couldn't have both.

"You should have let me died"

She was ready to answer. To tell him that he couldn't ask that of her, just like she knew she couldn't ask it from him. So many people needed him. She needed him. Palm had made promises, yes. But in her case, it had not been demanded that she make that sacrifice. Her heart had chosen for her. But then then he asked for one more pledge. One last promise.

"...not again..."​

Her very soul felt on the verge of shattering. Her hand tightened its grip on his slightly, an outward reflection of the conflict he had unleashed within her. She couldn't let him die, nor could she find solace in knowing she had condemned him to something he claimed he couldn't stand against.

Another could have questioned his feelings. Someone else could have asked how did he have the courage to make that demand when he hadn't given voice to his own emotions yet. But Palm knew how - because she too had been ready to lay down her life before she made the decision to bring it all into the light. Now her heart was torn between two forces that were equal in might. Her will to see him live even if it meant dying, and the knowledge that there was no pledge she wouldn't make to him.

There was a long silence as the war waged within her, and one of its victims was the last tether of her composure. The tears rolled down her cheeks soundlessly, turning her eyes into mirrors that reflected the deepest parts of her being. He asked something she felt was impossible for her to do, while knowing she could accomplish the impossible for him. He was asking her to let him go if it came to it. To be the one to take his place in carrying such a burden because his shoulders could not take more. How could she say yes?

Her heart churned as the memories he had shown her on Naboo resurfaced. The way he felt, the weight of the ring hanging from his neck, how he would never forgive himself. It was worse than death.

How could she deny him?

"Gerwald..." Her voice was barely a whisper threaded into a plea, for she dreaded the conclusion her heart had reached. She would give anything, even if it destroyed her. Even if every fiber of her being was begging her to not say the words that were about to leave her.

"Be careful with what you ask of me...
because I can't say no."

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

S U R V I V E​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Palm-Imer

Gerwald knew what he was asking. What he did not know, what he could not have anticipated, was the way Palm would answer his demand. She had been so quick to make her previous vows to him, only one of which he had asked for. He had wanted her by his side as an ally and friend in what he knew would be a difficult task, leading the Knights Obsidian. What he had not asked of her was the pledge she later made to him. Palm had more than kept that promise, one that kept leading her to make more and more demands of herself.

Her answer prompted two thoughts in the lupine, both of which caused him to stand up in an instant, taking a few steps away from the cot. She had lost the will to hold back the tears which had been threatening to break, and it caused the wolf no small amount of pain and guilt knowing his demand had been the reason for them. Yes, he knew her feelings also pushed them out, but Gerwald gave the imperative knowing what they were.

He turned to look at her, the first of his thoughts quickly coming out of his mouth.

“I never asked you to give me that kind of power.”

They both knew it, as well the both knew why she had granted it. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find something in them that would give him the assurance she would make this vow if it was what he truly wanted.

Duty had demanded it should have been him to die, but that was not what gnawed at the inside of Gerwald’s mind. He had wanted it to be him. For the first time in his life, the thing that would have made him happy, and the price of duty had been the same. Yet, neither could justify allowing the other die so long as they were able to act.

The wolf took in a long, slow breath as he turned to face the geminaie once more. His feet carried him to her again as the air in his lungs escaped in an exasperated sigh. Quietly he placed his calloused hand on her head and began to gently stroke the length of her hair. He could not have wanted to feel their connection more so than he did in that moment. As he wrestled with the promise he wanted to force her to make, and the knowledge that he would never be willing to do the same. There was something else, however, the other thought which dominated his mind.

“I would not be able to either…”

It was the closest Gerwald had come to expressing the sentiment they both knew. Were it Gerwald in the cot, and Palm making the same demand, he would both hate it and give it at once. The thought that such a demand could lead the soll’nav to resent him did not sit well with him. Perhaps he was projecting much of his own reactions to such a thing, but Gerwald knew such was the case when one was forced to do something they did not wish to comply with.

How could he ask this when he would be vehemently against it himself?

“No, I won’t ask this…” Gerwald finally answered.

It had been his frustration speaking, a request born from the selfish desire to not see another life he cared for snuffed out before his own. The lupine was tired of losing those he loved, and burying lives lost long before their prime had ended.

In the end, the two had found their silent understanding once more. It simply took Gerwald longer to admit it. This was how it would be from now forward. One would always do everything in their power to save the other. However, Gerwald was the one with the power now. Oh, Palm still had hers, but she was fighting a battle that she would not win alone.

From the day they met, it had been the diplomat making all the promises to the Knight. Gerwald needed to remedy that. His word was never an idle thing, and once given he would die before failing to keep it. He knew her struggle, could sense it when he tried to reach out to the place they had made for each other. His hand reached for her chin, curled fingers guiding her gaze to find his. Every moment they had shared led to this one they were now in, and the words Gerwald would speak would lead to others.

He swallowed, hard. His voice cracking from the exhaustion of the past several weeks. Now that she lived, was awake, and physically well, Gerwald could find some solace and rest until it came time to fulfill the demands of his vow.

“I will see you defeat this, no matter what it takes…”

Gerwald took her hand once more, and lifted it to his lips. A gentle kiss was placed on the top of it, a kind gesture were it not for the conflict and stirring Gerwald still felt deep inside.

“You are not alone.”
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