Private Without Exception

[Grisha Fletch]

The sixteenth tome was as useless as its fifteen predecessors, Grisha let out a harsh, frustrated exhale as he tossed aside the useless datapad. He’d found records of over a few dozen dismissals from the guard, with reasons ranging from high treason to engaging in physical relations with another guard while on duty. For an order with thousands of years of history, such incidents were few and far between, and without fail none of those dismissed had ever been restored.

Grisha hadn’t failed like they had, he hadn’t betrayed anyone, yet the guard had turned him away all the same. They called it temporary, said he needed to learn, that he would know when the time was right, and yet, according to the order’s history, the time had never been right before.

Some part of him wanted to despair, another wanted to rage, and another still just wanted to fall asleep between the glowing datastacks. Instead of doing anything he actually wanted, Grisha simply let out a tired, frustrated groan, rubbing his temples with his thumbs as he brushed loose dark hair from his brow. Then, he gracelessly rose to his feet and pulled another tome of records, tossing the last into a pile with the others.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

In another corner of the library, Eloise sat with a stack of religious texts. Some were datapads, while others were more ancient—musty-smelling tomes bound in leather with flimsy pages full of knowledge that had yet to be copied, perhaps due to a lack of demand for their digitization.

Eloise probably wouldn’t have been interested in theology either, but a recent mission to a convent had left its mark on her. Maybe she realized there was something missing in her life, or maybe she was just curious about other points of view beyond the philosophy of the Jedi and the Sith.

So far, she was finding these texts difficult to comprehend. She longed to light up her pipe—studying was always easier when she smoked—but it was prohibited in the archives, and she didn’t want to risk the books catching fire. And of course, there was also an attractive guy sitting at the other end of the room, creating a distraction with his mere presence. He was being a little bit rough with the datapads, throwing them onto the table carelessly, and Eloise finally felt compelled to say something.

“I would be more gentle with those, unless you want a lecture from the Chief Librarian,” she warned, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb anyone. Talking loudly would draw the ire of the Librarian too.

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

“The Chief Librarian can bite me.” Grisha snapped, eyes running over line after line of text in the vain hope the volume he held would hold the answers that had been absent in those before it. It didn’t. So he looked up from the tome, and finally cast his gaze to the source of the voice admonishing him. She was young, or at least younger than him, with vibrant hair that held his attention for a moment as he tried to decide if it was natural or not. and Something about her made him think she wasn’t used to be the one telling others to follow the rules.

Then again, he wasn’t used to breaking them.

Usually he was kinder than this, softer spoken, more diplomatic. Grisha hadn’t slept more than three hours in the last two days though, so his decorum had become frayed to say the least. “Don’t you have some errand to run for your master?” Grisha softened the delivery of the dismissal before he made a complete ass of himself, but a change in tone only made a little difference if the words were as barbed as his.

He tossed the sixteenth time onto the pile and sighed, he was going to feel like quite the fool later.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

At the boy’s snappy response, Eloise nearly laughed out loud. “She has like, a hundred mouths, dude. And you want her to bite you?”

On closer inspection, it appeared that he was older than her. She sighed. The hot ones were never the right age for her to have a chance. She glanced back down at her book and would’ve forgotten about the interaction, had he not spoken again.

“Don’t you have some errand to run for your master?”

“No. I’m here to study.” Her current curriculum didn’t concern alternative religious practices, but maybe she could somehow wrangle out a comparative essay on the subject. “Why are you tossing stuff around so aggressively? What did those books do to you?”

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

“I wasn’t being liter-,” Grisha cut himself off, scowling at the Padawan. She was trying to be funny, though he imagined it was probably more for herself than him. She didn’t get it, she was maybe a few years from knighthood, if that, she didn’t understand what he had lost. If she was lucky she never would.

“Then go back to doing that, before you flunk whatever test is coming up.” He said bitterly, thumbing through the rows upon rows of ancient volumes. There had to be something that he hadn’t caught, someplace he hadn’t thought to look, he couldn’t accept that there was nothing. Finally he looked back and realized that the the Padawan was not quite done with him yet.

“I need answers, and so far, none of them have any.” He admitted with a long sigh, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stepping back from the shelf. Perhaps it was time to admit defeat, at least for the day.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

This guy must’ve been in a bad mood or something. Or maybe he really was just a humorless stick in the mud. “Answers to what?” she asked, growing impatient and annoyed. “Ask a fething librarian if you need help. Don’t take your incompetence out on the—”

She broke off, detecting a familiar presence behind her. Turning, she beheld the numerous eyes and mouths of Master Kassogtha Cthylla , the Chief Librarian.

“Sorry, am I being too loud?” Eloise whispered.

“Not anymore,” Master Cthylla said, pursing her lips disapprovingly. Her eyes flicked toward Grisha and the pile of datapads on his table. “Are you finished with these?” she asked him, gesturing to the pile with one of her tentacles.

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

“Answers to why some Padawan is so concerned about the feelings of books-,” Grisha bit off a snarl, and lowered the accusing finger he’d raised to shove in Eloise’ direction when the Librarian’s presence crept in. He lowered his hand, and found himself dragged to three or soyears prior, where he’d been the Padawan’s age, and had earned the ire of several of the attendants of the library for his loud protestations. He’d managed to avoid the head of the hydra though, until now.

“Master, I uh,” Grisha looked from the master’s writhing tentacles, to the books he’d left in perhaps the most untidy arrangement possible. “I will be soon.” He offered almost meekly. Grisha’s eyes flicked back to Eloise, and tightened into a quick, accusatory scowl before returning to the Librarian.

“My apologies for any disruptions.”

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Master Cthylla acknowledged his apology with a slight bob of her gelatinous body, then glanced at Eloise, who did her best impression of an innocent angel. Apparently satisfied, the Librarian slithered off back into the stacks, leaving them alone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Eloise noticed the boy was scowling at her. The whole situation was too absurd for her to take any of it seriously. She stuck out her tongue at him before standing up and pushing in her chair. Since she was preparing to leave, she went ahead and placed her wooden pipe in her mouth, clenching it between her teeth while she stuffed the datapads she had checked out into her bag.

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

As the master went her own way, Grisha sheepishly returned the books to their proper places. He might've crossed other librarians, but not Cthylla. As he tidied up, his frustration built. How could there be nothing? How could I be the first? Grisha grumbled to himself as he slotted each volume back and ensured they were in the proper order, stewing on his situation and, strangely, the Padawan. She'd insisted on making a commotion, threw him off when he could've been on the cusp of an answer.

Deep down, he knew there wasn't going to be one in those books, if all he'd needed to do was look up what he needed to do in a book, then he doubted the Master of the Guard would've been so vague.

That didn't dull the frustration though, and as he turned on his heel, he caught the Padawan in the corner of his eye, a wood pipe between her lips. A smile curled on his lips, and he reached out his hand, and pulled the pipe to his open palm.

"Now Padawan, aren't you a little young for this?" Grisha challenged gleefully.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

The pipe was suddenly yanked from her mouth, leaving behind an unpleasant ache in her clenched jaw. She turned toward the boy who now held her pipe in his hand, smirking as he wagged a finger at her in smug disapproval.

Her first instinct was to punch his face in. She very nearly did so, crossing the room in a matter of seconds so that she stood directly in front of him. Eloise was almost as tall as he was, perhaps a couple of inches shorter. “Give it back.”

No playing along, no childish insults. Just a flat command as she met his gaze, their eyes level. The look she gave him spelled danger should he refuse to place it in her outstretched hand. Evidently the pipe meant more to her than just something to smoke out of, and he had unknowingly treaded on perilous ground by taking it.

Or maybe she simply couldn't stand the idea of an authority figure confiscating something that belonged to her.

Or perhaps she was just deeply disturbed.

Either way, if he didn't give it back, something was bound to happen. Something that would probably bring Master Cthylla back to the scene, only this time they wouldn't receive a warning.

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

"Rank means something, Padawan. Be careful who you're giving orders to." The Knight jeered with a glint of arrogance in his sleep-heavy eyes. He turned the pipe over in his hand, gentle with his movements, her reaction telling him that she didn't have enough of a handle on her emotions to withstand something happening to it. The last thing either of them needed was Cthylla coming back.

"How old are you, thirteen?" Grisha lowballed it by a wide margin, just to get under her skin. "Smoking is a real bad habit, especially when you're so young." He tutted.

"I'm sure your master doesn't approve." For a moment he considered tauntingly popping it between his own teeth, but the thought of putting anything like it in his mouth was beyond revolting. He'd dealt with Master Gunderson's habit enough when the one-armed Jedi had still been shambling around on Coruscant. "I bet you're wishing I'd just mind my business right now aren't you? Funny how that works out."

This wasn't going to end well, and he didn't care.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Oh, he was a right bastard, wasn't he? A soft, pretty face disguising a nasty prick. "I suffer no bullies," she retorted. "Especially one with the nerve to pull rank."

As if a whiny, arrogant sack of dung like yourself could possibly be a Jedi Knight. They're really handing out knighthoods like fething candy these days…

"Sixteen. Maybe you should get your eyes checked." He was right in that her master almost certainly didn't approve of her smoking habit. She was the Chief Healer, after all. There was little point in explaining to her peers or superiors why she still smoked. The pipe had been a gift from someone she cared about. Of course, if this smirking chithead knew its significance, who knew—he might try to break it out of petty spite. The Order was full of scumbags like that, drunk on power and utterly convinced that they were right.

"So you’re stealing from me just because I said you shouldn't throw library books around carelessly?" she muttered. What stung worse was knowing the Masters wouldn't look kindly upon her habit. All he had to do was say he confiscated the pipe, and they'd side with him. "Last chance. Hand it over."

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

It took him a few seconds for the smile to fade, the girl’s scowl and sharp words proving far more effective then he’d expected. What was he doing? Grisha looked down at the pipe, turning it in his hands for a moment, dark eyes flicking from the Padawan to her contraband and back again.

“No one is stealing anything, calm down.” He tried to sound dismissive, like the verbal lashing from a teenager wasn’t the second most embarrassing thing to happen to him that week. “But the guards who take the library posts are sticklers, you shouldn’t have this out around them. Wait until you’re in the courtyard to pull it out.” He offered the pipe back to her, not quite apologetically, but as close as he planned on getting.

“I haven’t slept in three days.” Grisha didn’t know why he’d said that, but the words were already out. “Looks like that’s the limit for me.”

He wasn’t like this usually was he? He couldn’t have been. Grisha was a favorite of youngling packs, a friend to young learners, and there he was exacting petty revenge on a girl like a psychopath dewinging a fly.

Maybe the masters were right about him after all.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise snatched the pipe from him as soon as he placed it within reach, hiding it in her bag. Now he was trying to sound caring, like he’d done it all for her own good. Nerf herder.

Still, this was the best possible outcome for both of them. They avoided drawing the ire of the Chief Librarian, and Eloise didn’t have to knee him in the groin just to get her property back. That had been her plan, should the Boy Knight have continued to keep it from her.

“I haven’t slept in three days. Looks like that’s the limit for me.”

“The hell?” She raised an eyebrow. “Go the feth to sleep, then. Nobody wants you around acting like Emperor Palpatine reborn just because you’re tired.”

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

“Emperor who?” Grisha raised an eyebrow, there had been a dozen emperors it seemed in the last century alone, if she thought there was any chance he knew enough history to recall Sidious, she’d have been wrong. Grisha slept through most of his history lessons to be honest, but after a moment the particular history returned to his memory.

“Oh, him. Does that make your Skywalker, saving the precious books from my tyranny?” His voice was becoming more airy, tired, he’d find his cot soon and sleep until his pride wasn’t so wounded.

“If I’d wanted to be around anyone, I wouldn’t have gone to the library, mind you.”

What was he even saying?

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

“Emperor who?”

“Your mom.” Quick on the draw, she was.

“If I’d wanted to be around anyone, I wouldn’t have gone to the library, mind you.”

“Dude, just get out of here.” She felt like she was expected to suddenly sympathize with him after he had terrorized her, which was irritating. “You wanna talk about me being unhealthy, you could collapse and die from exhaustion. Take some pills or something. Smoke some marcan herb. Whatever it takes to get some sleep.”

Grisha Fletch​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

“My mother?” His tone became cold once again, his face sharpening into a scowl. “Do you have any idea who my mother was? What she sacrificed for the Alliance?” His finger shot out again, his gaze narrowing.

“She was a hero, you ungrateful little shit-,” Grisha giggled, unable to maintain the farce any longer, but ignoring any suggestion that he go to bed.

“Nah I’m just kidding she was some spacer. Real nobody.” His mood had swung from patronizing to amused in record speed, in a manner that would surely embarrass him when he woke up after what was sure to be a long, long rest.

Eloise Dinn

 

[Eloise Dinn]

As Grisha's mood fluctuated wildly (and with it came further insults, now passed off as a joke), Eloise simply stared at him in silence. He was trying to be funny, but she wasn’t laughing.

The guy was clearly sleep deprived in the extreme. But that wasn't her problem. She had already advised him to go home and get some rest, yet he seemed to be ignoring her. Well, she didn't need to deal with him anymore.

So she turned and walked out of the library without another word.

Grisha Fletch​