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Chapter Text

He could hear the sound of frogs croaking as he wadded along the shore of a glistening lake. The water was clear and filled with sunshine. Small fish darted past his feet. He could see the trees above him swaying gently.  

A breathless laugh shot past his teeth. Stumbling, he chased a frog as it hopped away from him. The hems of his robes were drenched as he dashed across the lake. 

Harry quickly found that he couldn’t catch the frog. It didn’t matter how he pursued the creature, it always managed to evade him, wriggling and splashing desperately. 

A country tune then reached his ears. His master had taken out an old, weathered banjo. It was made out of mahogany wood and indented with complex carvings. He had begun to fiddle with the instrument, plucking various strings. 

Dumbledore was sitting under a willow as he fooled around with his instrument. Harry’s gaze then fell back onto the frog. Concentrating, he clenched his fists as he stared at the slippery creature. Then, as Harry’s muscles strained, the frog lifted into the air, croaking with despair. 

Harry smiled triumphantly. “I used the Force! I lifted the frog! Look, master,” he beamed at Dumbledore. “I told you I could catch the frog!” 

“Well done, my boy!” Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “You’ve exceeded my expectations, as you always do. Come here,” the man patted the grass beside him. 

Another breathless laugh spilt past his lips. Stumbling, he dashed towards his master, releasing the frog as he ran. His cheeks were flushed as he collapsed next to Dumbledore. Smiling, he reached across the man’s lap to pluck at a banjo string. It made a low noise. 

It really was such a silly sound. Harry plucked another string, laughing as he did so. 

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow. “I should hope you’re not going to steal my banjo, my boy,” he gave Harry a conspiratory smile. “It is my dream to become the greatest banjo player on Naboo. It’d be a shame to lose to you.”

A small giggle left Harry. “I’m going to become a Jedi Master. I’m going to serve on the council. I’ll be cool and strong, and… and powerful!” He then lowered his voice to match Snape’s nasally drawl. “I’ll have no attachments.”

The smile on Dumbledore’s face then dimmed. Quietly, the Jedi Master reached towards Harry. Yet, as his fingers brushed against Harry’s shoulder, he withdrew. 

“You’re a wonderful Padawan, my boy,” the old man admitted softly. “You’re a joy to teach. I cannot wait to continue our adventures. Your ability to love—well, it is unmatched. I’ve never met another soul like you before.”

A flicker of pride ignited within Harry’s chest. He knew he was one of the youngest Padawans the Jedi Council had ever approved of. He was nine years old and the Padawan of Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest Jedi to ever live. 

He would never stop being grateful to the man. He had saved him from his life on Alderaan—his life with the Dursleys. 

The grave look on Dumbledore’s face then deepened. Morosely, the man sighed, “To love without attachment is difficult. It is an aspect of the Jedi Code I have always struggled with. I fear—well, I believe you will struggle. You will struggle as I have.”

“To cherish those you love while accepting their inevitable loss. To have without holding,” he paused. A deep sigh left him. “It is tremendously difficult the path of the Jedi.” 

The gloomy expression on Dumbledore’s face then abruptly vanished. Smiling, the Jedi Master reached into his robes to reveal two kabobs. “I acquired these two tasty fish at the market earlier! We must see if Naboo is truly deserving of its title of Best Fish.” 

Dumbledore offered one of the kabobs to Harry. “Let us enjoy a salty treat before we return to Coruscant. The council does not need to know of our short delay.”

Harry scooted closer to Dumbledore. Quietly, he muttered, “I appreciate everything you do for me, master. I promise that I’ll become a great Jedi. I’ll become someone you can be proud of.” 

Heat rushed into his cheeks as his stomach gave an embarrassed squirm. He had never been the best at expressing his feelings. The Dursleys hadn’t encouraged his emotions in any meaningful way. 

Nervously, he began to yank on the grass beside him. “I promise I’ll honour the Jedi Code.” 

“You’ll do me proud by eating this kabob, my boy,” Dumbledore smiled teasingly. He had a twinkle in his gaze as he levitated the kabob towards Harry. “You needn’t worry about the code. You’ll be great.” 

Dumbledore’s gaze then softened. “I’m already proud of you.” 

The kind look on Dumbledore’s face caused his stomach to clench. Silently, he averted his gaze. “Alright,” he whispered. 

The two of them then munched on their kabobs, chatting quietly as they sat by the sparkling lake. 

***

A gentle rain fell from the sky as he walked through the streets of Daiyu. The planet was humid. His skin kept prickling with an uncomfortable heat. Worst of all, the planet was crowded. 

Harry didn’t know how he’d be able to complete his mission. 

A senator had recently been assassinated on Daiyu. The council had tasked him with discovering the perpetrator. 

Now, the seventeen-year-old had no choice but to investigate the industrial planet.

Bright lights flashed all around him as he crossed a busy street. 

It almost felt as though he was being bombarded by the colourful billboards and other advertisements. They wouldn’t stop flickering and bursting with light. Daiyu was alive in every way. 

The planet had a vibrant crime life as well. There were taverns, lounges, brothels, and spice dens. 

Harry grimaced. 

Yes, he had no desire to be on Daiyu. He had always preferred quieter planets. The green meadows of Sorgan and the calm waters of Naboo were his favourites. They were favourites of his former master as well. 

It felt strange for him to be alone while on a mission. He had only recently graduated from being Dumbledore’s Padawan. He missed having his master by his side. 

Dumbledore had always been so cheerful. Now, as he stood amid a bustling crowd, cruisers speeding recklessly by, salesmen shouting, and fluorescent lights searing through the air, he felt the loss of his master keenly. He had never felt quite so alone before. 

His hand listlessly drifted towards his hair. Dazed, he toyed with his curls. 

His Padawan braid had been cut off with his graduation. He now had nothing to tug on or play with. 

A small, sad smile tugged at his lips. He’d speak with his former master soon. He’d return to Coruscant swiftly. He only needed to discover the truth first. 

A drunk couple then stumbled out of an alleyway, their pupils dilated as they giggled loudly. Desperately, they held onto one another, their clothes speckled with an orange powder. 

“Spice,” he whispered breathlessly. 

It had to be spice on their clothes. He had seen the drug before, but he had never seen it being so openly consumed. 

Curious, he wandered towards the alleyway. 

The world around him quieted as he peered down the dark passage. 

With one last breath, he stepped inside the alleyway and began his investigation. 

***

The planet was grey. It was barren and dead. Harry had never seen anything quite like it before. It was as though the planet and its life had been drained away. 

The planet had no grass. The earth beneath him was as hard as stone. Dust carried on the wind. The trees around him reminded him of skeletons. 

The Force was eerily still as he approached a small village. The houses were more akin to huts, hobbles that had been hastily constructed and left to rot. A faded sign read the name of the town: Little Hangleton. 

His lips thinned. 

His investigation had led him here. The Senator of Denon had been assassinated on Daiyu. The politician had been meeting with spice traders. 

All of the circumstances surrounding the case were shady. Yet, Harry had reason to believe that the assassin had retreated to Little Hangleton. 

He surveyed his grim surroundings. A raven cried loudly. It flew through the air slowly, its gaze fixated on Harry. It squawked again. 

Harry could see a few other ravens as well. The birds had an unsettling presence about them. The entire town did. 

He could hear dogs howling in the distance. He could see the clouds darkening as they grew heavy with rain. 

Harry spotted an old tavern. He hastily approached the building. 

He would find the assassin. Then, he’d return to Dumbledore. He would be with his former master soon. 

His hand reached for his curls. Yet, as his fingers grazed them, swiping along soft strands, he stopped himself. 

He had no Padawan braid, not anymore. 

He had no attachments. 

His heart gave an old, familiar shudder. 

Steadying his breath, Harry stepped inside the tavern, his boots clicking as he walked. A few of the townsfolk were in the tavern. Their faces were sunken in and sickly pale. 

They were starving. 

His fingers twitched. His gaze flickered towards the floorboards.

He knew what it was like to starve. 

His breath hitched. 

Harry then attempted to release his negative emotions into the Force. The process was as slow as molasses. 

The Force didn’t want his guilt.  

Stumbling, he took a step forward. “You know why I’ve come,” he announced to the tavern. The townsfolk exchanged a quick look. 

The building was uncomfortably silent. 

Harry kept his composure as he held onto the Force. The council had trusted him with this mission. He could complete it. He had to complete it. 

The Force would protect him as it always had. It would guide him. He needed to have faith in its power. He needed to have faith in the council. 

One man then rose to his feet. He appeared healthier than the rest of the townsfolk. He had colour in his cheeks while the others had none. 

“No, Maxir,” a woman groaned, her features twisting with anguish. She reached towards the man, desperate. Her touch never reached him. 

“I assassinated ​​the senator,” the man admitted. His eyes shone with determination as he stalked towards Harry. “He had horrendous plans. The Senator wanted to use his senate seat to encourage the spice trade on Denon. He wanted to become rich off his peoples’ addiction to the drug.”

An indignant laugh bellowed out of the man. “He would’ve allowed his people and planet to perish! The spice traders offered him credits, and he lapped it up like a dog!” 

Harry could sense the truth of Maxir’s words through the Force. The man was the assassin. 

The windows of the tavern suddenly rattled. The wind outside had begun to pick up. Harry grimaced. The town outside was in complete ruins. The planet itself had started to rot. 

Harry had a sinking feeling as to why that was. 

His heart twinged with sympathy. 

Horrified, Harry flinched. He hastily pushed his emotions towards the Force. He couldn’t allow his emotions to cloud his judgment. 

“You should’ve come to the Jedi,” Harry responded quietly. “We would’ve helped you. This conflict could’ve ended peacefully.”

Another loud laugh left Maxir. “Everyone knows that the Jedi are puppets! You’re the lapdogs of the Senate. Their bidding always comes first.”

His face contorted with a mean sneer. “The Jedi aren’t peacekeepers, not anymore. You’re the Senate’s favorite toy. The Jedi keep law and order for the rich and powerful. You would have sided with whoever had the most credits.”

“The Senator of Denon had no love for his planet. He spent all his time on Coruscant, far away!” Maxir’s lips twisted. “I couldn’t allow my planet to transform into a soulless husk like Quatrith.” 

The townsfolk collectively flinched, the mention of their planet causing them to peer at Harry sadly. 

“The Senator of Quatrith has allowed his planet to waste away. I could never allow my planet to succumb to a similar fate. The people of Quatrith gave me shelter. They understood my pain because it was their own.”

The townsfolk muttered in agreement. 

“The Jedi would’ve listened to you,” Harry rebutted quietly. He eyed the townsfolk and their weary faces. 

Harry knew what he had to do. His stomach gave an uncomfortable squirm. He aggressively shoved his emotions towards the Force, releasing them messily again. He lowered his gaze. 

Harry moved towards Maxir to arrest him. 

***

He could now return to Coruscant. His mission could be labeled a success. He would bring his findings to the council, and Maxir’s punishment would be declared at the next Senate hearing. 

Harry found that he couldn't focus on the success of his mission, though. He kept thinking of Maxir. The idea of murdering someone sickened Harry horribly. He couldn’t imagine himself killing anyone; the guilt would destroy him. But the people of Denon had a right to protect their planet, didn’t they? He knew they did. 

He thought of the townsfolk and their despondent faces. 

He thought of himself as he was with the Dursleys. His living conditions had been similar to that of the townsfolk. He hadn’t eaten well while under the Dursley’s care. He had worn Dudley’s old castoffs. He had slept in a cupboard, cramped in that tight space. 

He took in a deep, calming breath. His life with the Dursleys was in the past. Harry had no reason to dwell on them. 

Jedi weren’t supposed to dwell on the past. It was their duty to focus on the present. 

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice interrupted him. “Is it true that you are a Jedi?” 

The woman had an eager look on her face as she approached him. A gasp of delight left her. Her gaze had fallen to his lightsaber holster. “You are a Jedi.”

“Yes, uh, I am,” Harry blinked. A light blush flooded his cheeks. He stood awkwardly still. “Do you have a situation in need of resolving?” 

The woman’s face turned pale, her gaze darting around nervously. She leaned in closer. “We have an orphanage. We have lots of children, uh,” she paused, “but we have one boy. The boy isn’t—well, you know,” the woman trailed off. 

Harry smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m sure I could talk to him—”

“—He is like you,” she choked. “He has certain abilities. He does things to the other children. You can take him away from us, right? You’ll want him, won’t you?” 

He felt his sympathy for the woman vanish. He remembered the hateful things the Dursleys had said about him, the horrified looks they cast his way whenever he used the Force. They had not seen his sensitivity to the Force as a gift. 

His abilities were wrong. 

An unnatural thing that had disrupted their perfect lives and attempts at normality. 

Anger sparked in his chest. His gaze returned to the woman. “I would like to meet him now.”

“Y-Yes, of course! My name is Mrs. Cole. The boy lives at Wool’s Orphanage. We can go together.” 

The two of them moved through the village quickly. Soon, they came upon an old building. Its structure was in dire need of repairs. The iron gates were overrun with rust. A few of the windows were cracked. 

It was as Harry stepped inside the orphanage that he felt an unusual presence. The energy was dark and bitter. It clouded the Force 

Harry paused. The presence was strong. 

If it was the Force signature of the boy, then he was extraordinarily powerful for his age.

Mrs. Cole stammered nervously as she walked beside him. She kept wringing her hands as they got closer and closer to the boy. 

Eventually, she came to a halt. “I’ll allow you to speak to the boy alone,” she offered weakly. 

His relatives had been eager to dispose of him as well. 

Harry nodded stiffly. 

He allowed the Force to guide him as he roamed through the orphanage. It led him to an old door. He knocked twice. He heard a quiet noise, the sound of shuffling. 

Harry entered the bedroom. His eyes quickly widened. 

The boy was young. His hair was combed and parted to one side. His cheeks were flushed as he gave Harry a toothy grin. “Hello there, sir,” he said politely. “We seldom receive visitors at Wool’s Orphanage or in Little Hangleton. Who are you?” 

His head was tilted innocently as he asked the question. It was as though he was a normal boy, polite and curious. 

Harry made a confused noise. His eyebrows furrowed together.

The boy had a completely different signature in the Force. He was surrounded by darkness. An emptiness pulsed out of him. He was annoyed by Harry’s presence. He found him to be threatening. 

“I’ve come to see if you’re like me,” Harry admitted softly. 

The darkness gave an unusual throb. The boy stepped closer. “What do you mean?” he demanded. His innocent facade had begun to fade. An eagerness abruptly entered his gaze. “You’re a Jedi.” He had noticed Harry’s holster.

“Have you ever done anything incredible? Anything that others might deem unusual?” 

The boy said nothing. Instead, the distrust in his gaze grew deeper. 

Harry reached towards his lightsaber holster. 

(“You should never offer your lightsaber to another person, my dear boy,” Dumbledore murmured seriously. “It is a representation of your life. Do not place your life in someone else’s hands.” 

Harry gave his master a confused look. “But you've given me your lightsaber before.” 

A cheerful twinkle entered Dumbledore’s eyes. “Ah, but I am always safe with you, my dear boy. I could never be worried or afraid while by your side.”)

He then offered his lightsaber to the boy. “You should try it out.” 

The boy stared at his lightsaber longingly. His hands shook as he glanced at Harry cautiously.

Harry smiled reassuringly. “This isn’t a trick. You can hold it.”

With an uncanny quickness, the boy snatched the lightsaber from his hands. He clutched the weapon close to his chest, gripping it possessively. 

An abrupt laugh left Harry as he stared at the boy. His cheeks were flushed an intense, ruddy red as held the lightsaber reverently. It was endearing. The darkness around him had also begun to lighten into a murky gray. 

Harry wanted to see if he could help the boy. He wanted to vanquish the darkness that was ebbing out of him in pulsating waves. He knew that the boy couldn’t be lost yet. He was too young. 

The boy then cautiously held the lightsaber out. With one resounding click, the weapon soared to life. It crackled with energy as the room was bathed in green light. 

The boy gave an excited gasp. His features were cast in green as his grin widened. The shadows on his face then darkened as he moved the lightsaber about slowly. 

Their gazes met. The boy had a certain presence about him. Harry thought it had something to do with the way his face was alight in green. He brushed the feeling aside. 

Harry smiled. “We have certain abilities. It is important that we use those abilities for good. We want to help the people of this Republic. We are keepers of the peace.” 

Then, as slowly as he could, he reached towards the lightsaber and placed his hand on top of the boy’s. 

A flicker of annoyance passed through the boy, causing Harry to repress an amused smile. He couldn’t help but find the reaction oddly endearing.

“You’ll get your own lightsaber soon enough,” Harry said encouragingly. The boy gave an excited jolt. 

Pleased, Harry turned the lightsaber off. He placed it back in its holster. “You’ll be allowed to live at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. It is an industrial planet. It has lots of buildings made of steel and—”

“—I know what Coruscant is like,” the boy snapped. “I’ve read books about the planet and, well,” his voice trailed off. An uncertain gleam had begun to flicker in his eyes. 

Harry snorted. “You’re alright. I won’t abandon you. Though, you definitely shouldn’t sass certain members of the Jedi Order.” 

A tingling, teasing sensation rose in his chest. Concentrating, he focused on the boy as he gave him a mischievous smile. Then, as Harry’s lips spread apart, the boy rose into the air. 

Wide-eyed, the boy yelped indignantly. 

Smiling, Harry carefully levitated the boy closer. “You’ll learn a lot at the Jedi Temple. It’ll be fantastic, I promise. You’ll even be able to float others like this,” he gave the boy a slow spin. 

Shifting the boy towards him, he levitated him to Harry’s eye level. Their gazes locked with an electric intensity. The world was still as they stared at one another. 

Their breaths echoed in the empty room, quickening as the seconds dragged on. His heart lurched in his chest. It thumped wildly. 

The moment came to an abrupt halt as Harry asked, “Do you need to pack?” 

The boy nodded. The Force around the boy then gave another unusual pulse. His eyes darted to the side as he bit his lip. He twitched. Quietly, he asked, “Will I be yours?"

The question took Harry by surprise. Perturbed, he blinked at the boy. “It is unlikely. I’d say I’m too young for a Padawan.”

The boy’s eyes flickered with something. That something then quickly faded. Detached, the boy glanced away. “Alright, sir. I’ll begin packing my belongings.” 

The boy flashed him a polite, small smile. 

Yet, as he lowered the boy to the ground, Harry’s lips pursed. He could sense the Force shifting around the boy with ire. He was upset again. 

“I find that anything is possible—well, when it comes to the Jedi Council. You could become my Padawan. It is not impossible.” 

A sneer pulled at the boy’s lips before vanishing. He stood still. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

The boy then turned away from Harry, huffing as he did so. “It doesn't matter who trains me. I will become a powerful Jedi.”

“You’ll be great,” smiled Harry. “I’m completely sure of it. You’ll be a great Jedi.” His words caused the boy’s ears to redden. Embarrassed, the boy shifted again. 

“We should introduce ourselves, right?” continued Harry. “My name is Harry Potter. What is your name?” 

The boy glanced over his shoulder at Harry. Their gazes locked with that strange intensity again. The boy’s lips curled, “My name is Tom Riddle.”

The words rang with a heavy finality. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Tom.” 

A teasing gleam passed through Harry’s eyes. “We’ll need to work on your connection with the Force. You’re—well, I’m assuming accidentally—revealing all your emotions through it.”

At first, Tom didn’t react. Then, as Harry’s words registered in his mind, his features contorted viciously. “You’ve been reading my emotions, my mind? ” he hissed. 

“I haven't done anything intentionally. You’ve been blasting your emotions at me.” 

“Besides, we’ll work on your connection while we travel to Coruscant,” his voice lowered. “I’ll introduce you to the Council when you’re ready, not any sooner.”

Tom nodded slowly. He appeared less unsettled as he stared at Harry. His signature in the Force was still clouded with distrust, but the intensity of it was lessening. 

He had to help the boy. It didn’t matter whether the boy became his Padawan or not. He’d help Tom in any way that he could. 

“I’ll allow you to drive the spaceship once we’re out of hyperdrive.” 

He’d help Tom to become a great Jedi. 

***

Harry smiled as he fixed the lapels of Tom’s robes. “They’re going to think you’re incredible,” he breathed. “They’d be foolish not to.”

“You’re messing up my robes!” Tom snapped petulantly. His forehead wrinkled as he shot Harry an annoyed glare. “You’re creasing the fabric.”

Harry let out an exaggerated gasp. “I haven’t done anything, Tom!” 

Sneakily, he scrunched the hems of Tom’s robes, watching as the fabric wrinkled. 

“You’re not sneaky,” Tom spat. “I can see you ruining my robes!” 

“What an accuser you are!” Harry moaned dramatically. The humour on his face then vanished. Quietly, he asked, “Are you ready to meet with the Jedi Council?” 

Tom’s face became eerily blank as he nodded. The boy’s control over his emotions had vastly improved on their journey to Coruscant. His signature in the Force was no longer dark. Instead, he emanated an unsettled greyness. 

It was beyond impressive. Harry had never met anyone with such a talent for the Force besides Dumbledore. The boy would become great. It was inevitable. 

The two of them then entered the Jedi Council Chamber. His gaze instantly danced towards his former master. 

Dumbledore had chosen to wear purple robes to the meeting. The plum colour heavily contrasted the other masters’ brown and black robes. He stood out brilliantly. Harry fought back a pleased smile. 

Snape had his usual scowl on his face. His hair hung limply as his sunken, onyx eyes narrowed.  

McGonagall exuded an air of calmness. 

Harry stepped closer to them. 

It was quiet as they surveyed the boy. Their eyes bore into Tom, studying the Force and its fluctuations around him. 

“The Force is strong within him,” commented Harry. “He should be trained. He should become a Jedi.”

Snape’s scowl deepened. “No, he should not be trained.”

Tom froze. His eyes widened with undiluted horror. 

“He is too old,” continued Snape. “It would be difficult to impart the Jedi Code onto him.”

“His signature is strange,” said McGonagall. She flashed Harry a knowing look. “Did you convey any wisdom to him on the journey here?” 

She could tell. She could tell Tom was repressing his emotions, keeping them from showing in the Force. 

Harry shook his head. “I’m afraid I have told him nothing about the Force. He has had no training.”

Tom twitched. 

“He should not be trained!” Dumbledore agreed jovially. “He is far too old. He will struggle to follow the Jedi Code.”

The rest of the council murmured in agreement. 

Tom’s hands had begun to shake. His pupils had contracted into tiny, terrified slits. His breaths came out rough and uneven. 

“You found the boy on Quatrith, right?” asked a council member. “You should return the boy to that planet. He will remain there, and—”

“—He is not that old,” Harry replied, hissing. “He cannot be expected to return to Quatrith. It would be cruel to return him to that orphanage. I was not much younger than him when I began my training—”

“—It was beyond controversial when we accepted you, Potter,” drawled Snape. “You were too old.”

Harry glanced back at Tom. The boy’s shoulders had gone completely rigid. Terror burned in his eyes as he looked at Harry. 

Harry would have died had he been forced to return to the Dursleys. 

“I will train him, then,” he said confidently. His fists clenched by his sides. “I will take Tom on as my own. He will be my Padawan.” 

“You’re too young for a Padawan,” replied Snape. “Potter cannot teach anyone about the Jedi Code—”

“—Perhaps, the child could teach Potter the importance of letting go,” McGonagall said thoughtfully. Her eyebrows had begun to furrow. “Padawans have always served as great lessons.” 

“We shall have a vote!” Dumbledore declared as he clapped his hands together. 

Harry retreated towards Tom, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He squeezed Tom reassuringly. Dread swam in the boy’s eyes. He appeared stricken.

He gave Tom another reassuring squeeze. 

It would be alright. 

Harry would protect the boy no matter what. His gaze met Dumbledore’s. 

Tom would become his Padawan. 

***

“You’ll have a room close to mine in the Jedi Temple!” Harry said excitedly. An eagerness had etched itself onto his face. 

The council had made their decision. Tom would become his Padawan, his first Padawan. 

He would get to train the boy. He would get to take care of him.

Tom would be his responsibility. 

It was daunting yet exciting. 

He had always wondered what kind of person his first Padawan would be. 

Tom held his chin up high as he stood by Harry’s side. His hair was neat as he flattened it with his palm. 

Harry snorted. 

Yes, he’d never imagined that they’d be so proper. 

The boy was so formal and polite. It came off as slightly ridiculous. Tom would probably pick the lint off his robes if he thought it’d make him more refined. 

Harry watched as Tom inspected his nails idly. He kept sending Harry quick, piercing glances. Tom slowly sidled closer to him. “Will I be allowed to visit you?” he asked casually. 

Harry let out another quiet snort. 

Ten-year-olds weren’t supposed to be so uptight. He was certain of that.

Tom sent him an agitated glance at the sound of his snort. Tom’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

The dour look only increased Harry’s amusement. 

Yes, the boy would make for an interesting first Padawan.

“Yes, uh, of course!” grinned Harry. “You can visit me whenever you need to! We’ll start your training soon, I promise.” 

Harry then turned around slowly as he heard a familiar voice exclaim with excitement, “Ah, it would seem that I’ve found you, my boy!” 

His former master had begun to stride towards him. Contentment settled across Dumbledore’s features as he gestured towards himself. “I would greatly enjoy your company, my boy,” he murmured warmly. “We have much to discuss.” 

Harry paused. He currently didn’t know how to feel about his former master. The vote had just occurred, and Dumbledore’s response had been less than satisfactory.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. It gripped him painfully. 

Then, as Harry’s gaze lowered towards Tom, his Padawan released him. Tom stared at him coldly, his pupils an eerie abyss. His hands rested idly by his sides, unmoving. 

It was as though Harry had never been touched at all. 

Harry gave the boy a weak smile. “I’ll return to you quickly, Tom,” he said gently. “You’ll receive that tour of the Jedi Temple.” 

Harry then strolled away from Tom and towards Dumbledore. 

He could feel the boy’s frigid stare as he left. It was unsettling. 

“To have a Padawan is wonderful,” sighed Dumbledore. “Teaching you was one of the greatest joys of my life. I look back on our adventures fondly. To return to Naboo would be—”

He felt as the bitterness in his chest writhed to its peak, exploding. 

“—You voted against me!” Harry snapped. 

He had thought that out of everyone on the council, his former master would have agreed with him. It was wrong to send Tom back to Quatrith. It was cruel. 

A deep, weary sigh left his former master. His shoulders sagged as he gave Harry a tired glance. 

“I only wish to protect you, my boy,” he admitted softly. “I sense a great darkness in him. I worry he will seek nothing but power as he ages,” Dumbledore reached towards Harry. “The boy should be brought back to Quatrith. It would be safer for us all."

Harry’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Uncertainty gnawed at him. He glanced back at Tom to find the boy pale and trembling, his fear palpable. Wide-eyed, Tom stared at him, frozen. 

Tom could feel their conversation and its emotions through the Force. 

A surge of determination then coursed through Harry. He wouldn't betray the boy. He had given him his word. 

“You’re wrong, master,” he said coldly. “Tom’s presence in the Force has been affected by his upbringing. It can be changed with proper care and attention.”

The boy would not fall. He would not become tempted by the dark-side as he aged, not with Harry as his master. Harry would take care of the boy. 

He understood that Tom was traumatized. His dark presence in the Force was not his fault. It was the result of isolation and abuse. 

His presence would change as he healed. He was the same as Harry had been. 

Dumbledore clasped his hands together tightly. He gave Harry a weary, resigned look. “I should hope you’re right, my boy,” he murmured gently. “Perhaps my age has finally caught up with me. I find I am not as forgiving as I once was.” 

The admission caused Harry to wince. His gaze fell to the floor. 

The air remained silent between them until Harry glanced back at Tom. The boy had gone creepily still. His eyes darted across Harry's face, fervent. They were absorbing his every miniscule twitch. Tom’s presence in the Force had intensified as well. 

“I should hope you’re right, my boy,” Dumbledore repeated tiredly. His blue eyes narrowed as he glanced at Tom. A certain sternness entered the face of his former master, a sternness Harry had never seen before. 

He hoped that he was right about Tom. 

He had to be right about Tom. 

He had to be. 

***

“You should spread your legs further apart, Tom,” Harry instructed carefully. “You need to keep your weight evenly distributed.” 

A low buzz sounded as a small, circular training drone circled Tom. It flew through the air erratically. 

It jutted about as it shot harmless flecks of light at the boy. Tom had to block the shots with his lightsaber. 

“You should lead with your dominant foot!” Harry continued excitedly. “Your lightsaber—well, your swings should be strong yet agile. A lot of combat is quick rather than slow and heavy. You’ll want to be quick and flexible as well.”

With an intense focus, Tom struck his first fleck of light. A pleased smirk stretched across his face. 

The training drone squeaked with approval. Its speed then increased as it circled Tom with newfound intensity. 

“Well done!” he shouted. His smile widened as he watched Tom block various attacks. 

A glint of determination shone in the boy’s eyes. His grip on his lightsaber was tight. He jutted towards the drone, deflecting another colourful blast. 

Harry’s lips then shifted thoughtfully. It would seem that he might need to change his advice

Tom’s swings were powerful for his size. He imagined that Tom wouldn’t rely on agility to win his battles. He would likely rely on his strength and ferocity. He’d stay relatively still. 

Harry had always relied on his speed while fighting. He dodged more attacks than he gave. 

He also preferred to use the Force while fighting rather than his lightsaber. He could restrain an individual with the Force, he could blast them away, but a lightsaber was always deadly. 

(Dumbledore gazed down at him kindly, his eyes twinkling as he murmured, “If a Jedi ignites their lightsaber, then that Jedi must be prepared to take a life. One should not ignite their lightsaber needlessly. It is a weapon to be used as one’s last resort.”

His hand landed on Harry’s shoulder. “We were always meant to be protectors, not soldiers,” he whispered. Dumbledore’s eyes had clouded over. 

Harry could feel Dumbledore’s distress in the Force. His master appeared distant as his memories clashed within him. 

Harry gave a solemn nod. “I understand, master,” he whispered back softly.)

Tom blocked another blast of light. His teeth peeked out as he smiled. He appeared unbearably smug as he continued to progress against the droid. 

His gaze kept darting towards Harry, little peeks of maroon, flashing eyes that wanted something from him. 

Harry didn’t understand what the boy wanted. He had already given Tom his advice. 

His thoughts unconsciously returned to Dumbledore. 

A small sigh left him. Harry listlessly began to card through his curls. 

He missed his Padawan braid.

The smile on Tom’s face then abruptly fell. His movements stopped. The boy stood still as his eyes narrowed. The joy in his gaze had faded. 

The next blast from the droid then hit Tom right in the face. 

***

The meditation chamber was silent as Harry and Tom sat on the floor. Their breaths coalesced in the empty space, echoing as one. 

“You should continue to focus on your breath,” Harry whispered calmly. “You’re an empty vessel that the Force may fill.”

He had always struggled with meditation. It was an impossible skill for Harry. 

He couldn’t clear his mind or rid himself of his emotions. His thoughts warred inside him as tangible beasts. He couldn’t disperse them.

Harry had even trained with Snape briefly. The Jedi Master had done his best to impart to Harry the ways of clearing one’s mind. 

Harry held back a scoff. 

It had been the worst training of his life. 

His gaze then shifted to Tom. The boy wasn’t struggling at all. His features were clear of any distress. His breathing was slow and even. He appeared entirely at ease. 

A stab of jealousy prickled in Harry’s chest. He had always wanted to meditate. He had wanted to impress the council more than anything as a Padawan. 

He had wanted to show them that he hadn’t been a mistake. 

The ease with which Tom was able to meditate frustrated him. 

“Your thoughts are loud,” whispered Tom, smiling. A rosiness had gathered in his cheeks. He appeared pleased as he peeked over at Harry. 

The boy then shifted towards him. 

“Your talents lay in other areas, master,” he drawled. “You’re quick on your feet. You can dodge anything. You know how to use your surroundings to your advantage.” 

Tom’s lips quirked upwards. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to stay still. You live too quickly for mediation.”

Harry blinked. “Oh.”

A warmth curled in his chest as he registered Tom’s words. Harry had never been complimented like that before. 

His gaze softened as he smiled at Tom warmly. He shifted towards the boy. Placing his hand on Tom’s shoulder, he whispered, “Thank you.” 

Tom’s nose wrinkled as he received the thanks. He peered at Harry questionably. 

Then, as Tom’s eyebrows scrunched together stiffly, his cheeks suddenly pinkened. The blush traveled down his neck and towards his ears. 

He looked as red as a tomato. 

Harry found that he wanted to squeeze the boy. He wanted to shake him about. 

Instead, he crowded towards Tom, smiling as he did so. A funny thought then came to him, an amusing, silly thing. “You’re a Tom-ato,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

Tom threw him an offended glance, his shoulders hunching together. “I am not some fruit, master,” he said, tight-lipped.

“Tomatoes are vegetables!” Harry replied quickly. 

“They’re not, master.” 

The two of them then bickered quietly as they sat together. It was as they sidled closer that Harry noticed an unusual gleam of happiness in Tom’s eyes.

He wanted to make that gleam brighter. 

***

The air was full of excitement as Harry leapt towards Tom. He swept the boy into his arms. “You’ve done it, Tom! You’ve completed your first mission!” 

The spaceship they were on lurched as it continued on autopilot. 

The eleven-year-old then gave an undignified yelp as Harry spun him. 

“Put me down!” Tom demanded angrily. A hot blush had invaded his cheeks as he glared weakly at Harry. 

A breathless laugh dripped past his lips. “Alright, Tom! I’ll allow you some dignity,” Harry teased as he placed his Padawan back on the ground. 

“I’m proud of you. A lot of Padawans complete their first missions on peaceful planets like Naboo. We had to travel to the Outer Rim for yours.” 

A secretive smile curled across Harry’s face. He tucked his hands behind his back as he sashayed closer to the boy. His lips twitched as he whispered, “You deserve a reward.” 

Tom went rigid. His cheeks reddened as his gaze lowered. He licked his lips. “Do I deserve a reward, master?” 

He reached towards Tom and cupped his cheek. “Yes, I think you’ve earned one.” 

The excitement in Harry’s chest fizzled to its absolute limit, bursting. 

“We’re near Carosi XII! We should visit the planet! It has the most beautiful snowy mountains. We can relax in one of the hot springs. It has lots of areas for tourists as well.” 

Tom blinked at him slowly, awareness seeping into his gaze. Yet, just as Harry swore he felt a flicker of discontent ripple through the Force, Tom’s lips curled into a polite smile.

“That sounds wonderful, master,” Tom murmured, his tone smooth and cordial. 

“The council doesn’t need to know of our short delay!” Harry continued, laughing. His eyes sparkled with mirth. He flicked Tom affectionately with the Force. 

“I always did these sorts of things with my master as a Padawan,” Harry said with a wistful smile. His hand brushed against his curls longingly.

His words then backfired. Instead of soothing Tom as Harry had wanted, the boy quickly became agitated. He whipped towards Harry, snarling, “You shouldn’t talk about your former master!”

“I don’t want to hear about Dumbledore! You shouldn’t care about him, not anymore!” Tom continued helplessly, his fists clenching. 

Harry reared backwards. 

The Force had clouded around Tom darkly. Harry had never seen such discontent pooling out of his Padawan before. He hesitantly reached towards Tom with the Force. 

Yet, as Harry’s signature brushed against Tom’s, the Force gripped him tightly. Tom gripped him tightly. 

Tom had latched onto Harry’s signature, forcing their essences to coalesce. 

Harry’s features twisted with horror. 

He hadn’t expected the sudden intrusion. He had felt Tom inside of him. 

A flicker of alarm crossed Tom’s face as he caught sight of Harry’s affronted expression. 

Tom’s features rapidly shifted. Ashamed, he directed his gaze towards the ground. “Your former master wanted to cast me out,” Tom whispered sadly. “I don’t like hearing about him. It upsets me.”

Harry said nothing. 

He had no idea what to say. 

His personal boundaries had just been violated, as though they didn’t exist at all. 

His Padawan had been the one to violate him. 

Tom gazed at him with remorse. 

Harry had never seen another person shift through so many emotions so quickly before. He didn’t know which ones were genuine. 

(“Anger, fear, and aggression lead to the dark side,” Dumbledore said calmly. “You cannot allow your anger to guide you. You must be serene and calm.”

Harry found that hard to follow as he stared at the broken remnants of his lightsaber.)

He took in a calming breath. He couldn't scream at Tom. He couldn’t shout or rage. It would only fuel Tom and his aggression. 

Harry had to be a proper Jedi. 

“A Jedi should never violate the Force in such a way,” Harry said coldly. His fingers twitched. “Jedi should only use the Force for knowledge and to defend themselves. You had no right to grab onto me like that,” he held back a sneer. 

Tom had gone eerily still. 

“You also cannot erase the people I had in my life before you,” he continued. “They are a part of me. I will—well, I’ll refrain from speaking about Dumbledore again. I understand why you dislike him. It would have been awful for you to return to that orphanage.” 

Tom shuddered. 

The boy then let out a saddened sniffle. 

Harry raised his eyebrow. He had doubts about whether that was real. Yet, even as he questioned the genuineness of Tom’s distress, his heart ached with sympathy. 

His hands twitched. 

He wanted to hug Tom.

He wanted to comfort him. 

Tom shot him another pathetic look. 

A small sound left Harry as he went and hugged the boy. He kept Tom close. 

They then held one another for a long time. 

Eventually, they traveled to Carosi XII. They visited a local hot spring and bathed in its soothing water. They went to multiple shopping districts. They even hiked one of the recommended mountain trails. 

They left the planet closer than ever before. 

(But Harry would betray his promise to Tom quickly.)

***

He had first braided it out of curiosity. He had missed the heavy weight in his hair. 

Harry had then found that he liked the braid. It wasn’t a Padawan braid. It was shorter and thicker than those braids ever were. It peeked out just past his curls. 

He hadn’t expected Tom’s initial reaction to be so strong. The boy had stared at Harry as though he had betrayed him. He had glowered and glared at him for days. 

Eventually, the boy’s behavior had stopped. Harry had then foolishly assumed that all was well between them. 

It wasn’t.

Tom’s crackling lightsaber swung towards him, fizzling as it came dangerously close to his flesh.

Harry spun out of the way. His breaths came out heavy as he dodged all of Tom’s swings. 

The two of them were training in the Jedi Temple. Tom had grown stronger since their last duel. He was quicker on his feet. His swings held more power in them. 

Tom attempted to stab him again. Harry leapt backwards to dodge the attack. Squeaks rang out as his boots skidded across the floor.

His Padawan was incredibly talented for his age. He was a wonder to behold.

But Harry could easily disarm a child if needed.

Tom slashed his lightsaber towards him. An array of blue sparks scattered through the air. 

Harry stepped out of the way of the attack. “You need to remain calm and collected,” he reminded his Padawan. “You cannot allow your anger to guide you. The Force should be your guide.”

He gazed at Tom purposefully as he murmured, “There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge,” he leapt away from another attack. “There is no passion; there is serenity.”

Tom openly sneered as he gave Harry a frustrated look. “You’re passionate, master,” he hissed. “You’re the most passionate Jedi I’ve ever met.”

Harry raised his eyebrow. Annoyed, he flicked Tom playfully with the Force. 

Tom shot him an offended glance. 

“We all have our faults,” Harry conceded. “I struggle with serenity and meditation. You shouldn’t adopt my faults just because I have them, though,” he grinned at Tom encouragingly. “There is no chaos; there is harmony.”

Harry then leapt through the air towards Tom. He dodged the boy’s wild swings and grabbed his wrist, holding it firmly to stop his attack. 

He then bent Tom’s wrist until the boy dropped his lightsaber. 

His gaze met Tom’s. “There is no death; there is the Force,” Harry murmured softly. “We should not allow our emotions to control us. We should not fear death—”

Tom’s features twisted angrily. He snarled as he ripped his wrist out of Harry’s grasp. 

The boy dove towards the floor. He quickly ignited his lightsaber. Tom swung upwards as he aimed for Harry’s neck. 

Harry froze. 

His heart came to a stop as the lightsaber seared towards his flesh. Yet, just as Harry had grasped the Force, preparing to freeze the lightsaber in its path, the attack halted. Tom’s lightsaber buzzed by Harry’s neck, terrifyingly close. 

Harry’s gaze fell to the floor. 

His braid. 

His eyes widened. 

Tom had completely cut his braid off. 

The boy had an unsure yet smug look on his face. His gaze shone with pleasure as he eyed the discarded, burnt hair. His lips quirked upwards. 

Yet, as Tom’s smile widened, a flicker of trepidation flitted through his gaze. His cheeks warmed.

“You had no right to do that,” Harry said coldly. His neck prickled as the heat from the lightsaber warmed him. Its eerie blue light had completely washed over his face. “You had no right to sever that braid.”

“You’re not his, you’re mine!” Tom shouted angrily. His cheeks had darkened into a vicious red. “Stop thinking of him! You’re not his Padawan, not anymore!” 

His grip on his lightsaber shook. “You’re the only one who—” Tom abruptly stopped. His face crumpled with distress as he lowered his weapon. The light in his eyes dimmed. 

Harry was the only one who had truly wanted Tom. 

It was a truth they hadn’t discussed. It was a conversation Harry wasn’t comfortable with having. 

He knew that the council had largely disapproved of Tom and his acceptance into the Jedi Order. They had wanted to return the boy to Quatrith. 

The Jedi who had voted in Harry’s favour had done so to improve Harry’s understanding of the Jedi Code. No one had voted for Tom's sake. 

It was understandable that Tom would feel possessive of him. He was the boy’s master. He was the one who cared for him. 

Tom was undoubtedly attached to Harry. 

But Harry had a duty to remind Tom of the Jedi Code. 

Yet, even as his lips parted, he found himself incapable of fully reprimanding Tom. Instead, he whispered, “You’re allowed to cherish those around you. We’re not supposed to be unfeeling machines. We’re supposed to care for the world and its wellbeing.”

Harry stepped closer to Tom. He cupped his Padawan’s cheek. “To cherish without keeping,” he smiled. He swiped his thumb under Tom’s eye gently. “You must let go of your attachment. You can care about me. But you cannot possess me.”

“You should not fear death, not even mine,” Harry said soothingly. Tom went rigid. His eyes widened with alarm. Harry shushed him reassuringly. “You should know that I care about you,” he continued. “You’re my Padawan. You’re—well, you’re important to me.”

A breathless laugh left him. “We only need one braid between us. The braid on your head.” 

His hand slid along Tom’s cheek and into his hair. He then teasingly tugged on Tom’s braid. 

Tom made an embarrassed noise. The colour on his face darkened. His eyes darted across Harry's face. He then glanced away, embarrassed. “Alright, master,” he said quietly. 

Harry laughed as he tugged on Tom’s braid again. “We’ll keep on training. Grab your lightsaber, Tom.” 

He stepped away from the boy. 

A flicker of guilt quickly sparked within Harry. He had not done his duties as the boy’s master. He had not reprimanded Tom for his clear attachment towards him.

But he found that he couldn't reprimand Tom when it came to matters of love. 

It was an area where Harry himself had always struggled. 

His own attachment to others had brought him immense pain, and he felt as though he couldn’t chastise Tom for something he himself had never managed well. 

The boy ignited his lightsaber. He smiled at Harry. 

The two of them would be alright. Tom would learn how to curb his attachments as he aged. 

Harry had faith in his Padawan.

***

The hems of their robes were caked with mud as they trekked through a murky swamp. The air was humid and full of insects. A constant buzz could be heard along with the distant sound of frogs croaking. 

Harry found it difficult to walk. His boots kept sinking into the mud with every step he took. He sighed tiredly. Fatigued, he glanced back at Tom, “Are you doing alright?” 

The twelve-year-old was several steps behind Harry. His face was damp with sweat. He looked exhausted as he panted heavily. His hair jutted out at odd angles. 

Harry had never seen Tom so disheveled before. His Padawan was meticulous when it came to his appearance. He took great care of himself. 

Tom’s boots gave a wet squelch as he staggered forward. His eyebrows furrowed with frustration. 

Harry coughed into his sleeve as he fought back a pleased smile. 

Yes, he’d have to treasure their time on Mimban together.

He knew that Tom would never allow him to see him so dishevelled again. 

“We shouldn’t have to visit backwater planets!” Tom hissed angrily. He kicked a glob of mud towards Harry. “There are insects buzzing everywhere. I despise them. I despise the dirt… the humidity… the trees! ” 

“You shouldn’t talk like that,” Harry replied quickly, his voice sharp. “All planets are deserving of our help.” 

He raised his eyebrow at Tom. “A lot of beings consider Quatrith to be a backwater planet. I doubt you’d appreciate being seen as lesser because of your birth there.”

Tom grumbled incoherently in response. His lips contorted into a sneer. 

Sighing, Harry gave Tom an affectionate flick through the Force. 

“Off-world companies keep coming onto Mimban, stealing its resources for their own worlds. The people of Mimban have begun to target and attack those off-world companies. We have come to offer the people our assistance,” he ducked under a low-hanging branch. “You’d better act respectful towards them, Tom. I’m serious. You should be able to sympathize—”

Harry then heard an especially loud grunt. His gaze swiveled towards Tom. 

His Padawan was stuck in the mud. 

Tom had plunged deep into the slick earth, the mud almost meeting his knees. His movements were frantic as he struggled. 

The boy couldn’t free himself. Each of his attempts to break free caused him to sink deeper into the brown guck. 

Tom shot him an agitated glance. His leg kicked uselessly again.

The Force around Tom had begun to stir. It writhed as Tom’s frustration mounted. Yet, as the Force around Tom snapped and roiled with discontent, Harry found an undercurrent of embarrassment lingering beneath it.

Tom was afraid of humiliating himself. 

He was distressed. 

Harry stumbled towards Tom quickly. Wide-eyed, he grabbed onto his Padawan while muttering, “We’ll get you out.” 

Tom stared up at him. His gaze shone with something— an eagerness—as Harry wrapped the Force around him. 

Concentrating, he focused on his connection with the Force as he fought to free Tom from the earth. Then, in one quick, fluid movement, Tom flew out of the mud and crashed into Harry. 

The two of them fell onto the ground. 

It was messy. Harry cringed as he felt mud splash across his face. It slid down into his hair. 

He let out an annoyed groan. It’d be a pain for them to get clean later. He didn’t know when they’d have access to water. 

A small sigh left Harry. He slowly wrapped his arms around Tom. The boy was sprawled across his chest, unresponsive and warm. 

“Are you alive?” Harry asked teasingly. He poked Tom in his ribs. 

The boy suddenly lurched to life. He climbed on top of Harry, his breathing uneven. His hands were on either side of Harry’s head, slammed against the earth. 

Tom appeared almost wild as his gaze met Harry’s. His pupils were unnaturally dilated. A blush had begun to spread across his face. 

It was as Harry laughed that Tom’s eyes widened with realization. The boy froze. 

Harry let out another loud laugh. His chest fluttered with warmth. He teasingly peered up at Tom. “We’ve made a mess of our robes,” he snorted. “We’re going to look ridiculous to the people of Mimban.” 

Tom remained silent. He appeared in shock as he gazed at Harry. 

Harry tilted his head. “Have you finally lost your mind?” he quipped playfully. “Did the mud seep into your brain?”

Laughing, he grabbed onto Tom with the Force. He then floated the boy into the air. 

Tom reacted instantaneously. He pouted and shouted as he glared at Harry. 

Harry got up off the ground. “Ah, it would seem that you can still speak!” 

“P-Put me down!” Tom hissed, embarrassed. He propped his fists on his hips angrily. 

It was an adorable sight. 

Harry chuckled. He then placed his Padawan back onto the ground. Tom’s angered expression faded away into one of quiet contemplation. He stared at Harry heavily. 

Shifting, Harry ignored Tom as he stretched his aching muscles. He had no time to deal with the boy’s embarrassment over their stumble. They were already behind their strict schedule. 

Harry then led them deeper into the swamps of Mimban as they continued their mission. 

Tom never strayed from his side.

Chapter Text

A gentle breeze brushed against his face. It stirred his curls as he stood still. He was in the courtyard at the Jedi Temple. He was alone in the open space. 

A shaky breath stuttered past his lips. 

The courtyard held the Great Tree. The Great Tree was the only plant life on Coruscant. The planet had been completely industrialized long ago, its nature stripped away and replaced by steel. 

His eyes roamed across the tree and its trembling leaves. It was a sight to behold. 

His fingers twitched as he continued to stare at the tree. One leaf then broke away from a gnarled branch. It tumbled through the air, swirling beautifully. 

His chest prickled with longing. 

Harry took a deep breath. He could release his emotions into the Force. The Force could accept them. 

He was a Jedi. 

He was supposed to be serene and at peace. 

Concentrating, he focused on his emotions, urging them to pass through him. He nudged them towards the Force. 

Harry then felt as a familiar presence shifted closer to him. It nipped at him playfully. 

A small smile twitched across Harry’s face. 

“I’ve finally found you, master,” Tom said politely as he approached Harry. His hand landed on Harry’s shoulder. “We should head to the meditation hall before our next mission.”

Harry smiled as he glanced at his Padawan. “I’d rather not spend my time meditating,” he snorted. “It won’t do anything for me. You should go ahead without me.” 

Tom leaned in closer, an annoyed, sharp huff leaving his lips. His eyes were alight with glee. “I’d rather meditate with you beside me. It’ll be easier for me to relax. I worry when you’re far away.”

The playfulness on Tom’s face caused Harry to snort again. 

The thirteen-year-old then paused, his lips contorting into a frown. Perturbed, Tom eyed the Great Tree and its surroundings. A shaky, uneven breath left him. 

Tom’s voice was lined with disgust as he hissed, “You’re in the courtyard where the younglings get taught! You’ve come to the courtyard to… to…” he trailed off as he shook with rage. 

“You’ve come here to reminisce about your past!” Tom spat. His grip on Harry’s shoulder tightened painfully. 

Harry winced. 

The boy was strong for his age. 

He flashed Tom an annoyed look. 

“You’re completely wrong,” he gritted out, his voice low and tense. 

Harry knew that his Padawan was powerful. It was only a matter of time until the boy surpassed him. Tom would become a great Jedi. 

Yet, as Harry watched Tom frown like a child, he couldn’t help but smile. A wave of affection rose within him. 

His Padawan needed more training. He wasn’t a great Jedi yet, not by a long shot. 

Harry then felt a chill seep into the air. The Force around Tom had begun to spike with distraught. 

Fear raced through Tom’s eyes as he reached another conclusion. His gaze clouded over with horror. He stared at Harry, betrayed. “You’ve come here to select your next Padawan! You want to find my replacement! You—” 

“—You’re still wrong, Tom,” Harry said kindly. Slowly, he placed his hand on top of Tom’s. 

The boy instantly froze. A warm light surged back into his eyes. His cheeks pinkened. 

“You’re my Padawan,” Harry murmured. “No one will take your place. You’re mine to care for, mine to train,” he smiled, gently stroking his thumb along Tom’s hand. The loving touch caused Tom to shudder. 

“I would never replace you, Tom,” he whispered. He gazed at his Padawan purposefully. “You’re the one who matters most to me.”

Tom shuddered again. He gazed at Harry softly. His blush had begun to darken into an exhilarant red. Tom then tenderly pulled Harry towards him. 

Yet, as Harry felt the warmth of Tom’s breath against his chin, he stepped back, laughing. He shot Tom a playful grin. “Besides, you’re still far from finishing your training! You’ll be stuck with me for a few more years!” 

“I’m sure you’ll complete your trials earlier than most Padawans, though,” he added proudly. “You’ll graduate in no time. You’re incredibly talented, Tom.” 

A sudden twinge of distress pulsed from Tom and into the Force. His features twisted as he stared at Harry. 

“Once you’ve graduated, you’ll be able to leave me. You’ll be able to complete solo missions! It’ll be fun—”

“—I’ll never abandon you, master,” Tom said quickly, his voice frantic. He hastily stepped towards Harry. His breaths came out rapidly. 

Harry’s eyes widened. He took a step back as Tom reached for him. 

“You’ll leave me one day, Tom,” Harry said gently. “You’ll want to be more independent as you grow up. You’ll want your own Padawan. You’ll complete missions with them rather than with me,” his gaze returned to the Great Tree. He watched as another leaf floated towards the ground. 

“Your attachment to me will pass,” he whispered. “It is the way of the Jedi. You’ll let go of me.”

A wistful smile tugged at his lips. “I actually came here to look at the Great Tree,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I think of the planet I was born on. I think of Alderaan and its sprawling trees and lush grass.”

Tom blinked quickly. His eyebrows furrowed, shifting in thought. 

“Coruscant has no nature. The planet has no sparkling lakes, no towering mountains,” Harry said with a bitter laugh. “I find that when I’m surrounded by skyscrapers and cruisers, I think of the nature that Alderaan had.”

Tom was clinging to every word Harry uttered. His gaze was intense as he watched his master. His focus had not yet wavered.

Harry paused thoughtfully. He hesitantly bit his lip. “I’ve never missed my relatives. They were always so focused on their status. Alderaan—well, the planet has always had a reputation for being wealthy. Every planet in the Kuat Sector has that reputation.”

He knew the Dursleys had wanted a reputation like that, too. They had wanted to be as wealthy and as affluent as everyone else. 

Tom shifted closer to Harry. He tilted his head to one side. “You’re no longer a Padawan, Harry,” he said quietly. “You can go wherever you want to. You can visit Alderaan,” his gaze lowered. “Why haven’t you done so yet?” 

Harry laughed softly, flashing his Padawan an amused, knowing look. “We’re not supposed to dwell on the past. That would go against my purpose as a Jedi, Tom,” he whispered teasingly. His lips lifted into a smile. “I should only visit the planets that the council instructs me to.”

“Besides, we’ve got too many missions to complete,” he said with a wink at Tom. “There’s no time for a trip to Alderaan.”

He half-expected Tom to have a faint blush speckled across his cheeks. He thought his Padawan would reach for him tenderly. Instead, Tom looked angry, his expression darkening. 

“You’re supposed to be free, Harry,” Tom said, his words escaping as a harsh whisper. “You shouldn’t be shackled down. You should be exploring the galaxy, side by side with me.”

Harry’s mind came to a halt, stuttering as he registered Tom’s words. 

He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was an incredulous statement. 

Harry frowned down at his Padawan. “You should go to the meditation hall, Tom,” he said quietly. “I think it’ll serve you well. You need to clear your mind.” 

A vicious snarl tore apart Tom’s face. With a fierce glower, his Padawan stormed away.

Harry was then left alone by the Great Tree, startled. A weary sigh left him. 

Yes, it’d be awhile before Tom became a great Jedi. 

***

An ever-present chill hung in the air. Snowflakes flew down from the sky in a quick, vicious blur. Their boots crunched through the snow as they trekked across Hoth. 

The planet was one made of ice and stone. Harry and Tom were surrounded by inclement mountains, their peaks looming ominously. It was an isolated, remote planet. 

Harry shivered violently, his body frigid. Trembling, he brought his hands to his face. He could barely feel his breath against his skin. His fingers had gone completely numb. 

With trembling hands, he breathed over his flesh, the skin an angry pink. Kriff. They were going to freeze to death. 

Harry’s eyes darted around their surroundings. They needed to find shelter and fast. They weren’t prepared for the cold of Hoth. It was going to destroy them. 

The two of them had recently completed a mission on Bespin. Their return to Coruscant had been interrupted, however, by their spaceship malfunctioning. They had crash landed on Hoth. The two of them had then set out into the ferocious blizzard to find help. 

A gentle touch slid across his hands. “We’ll be alright, master,” Tom whispered warmly. He held Harry’s hands tenderly, his grip reassuring. “No harm will come to you. I’ll always protect you.” 

Smiling, Tom leaned in close, his breath warm against Harry’s skin. His gentle breaths felt good. Harry’s heart gave a strange flutter. 

Tom then leaned in close and kissed Harry’s hand. He pressed several soft kisses along his fingers. 

Horrified, Harry stumbled backwards, away from his Padawan. The cold instantly returned, sharp in its touch. 

He shivered, recoiling at the piercing, unforgiving chill. He tucked his hands back into his robes. Avoiding Tom’s intense gaze, he grunted, “We should continue to search for shelter.” 

He’d remind his Padawan of the Jedi Code later. Tom should know better than to display his friendship so openly. The council would not approve of his blatant attachment. 

The wind whipped around them mercilessly. Tom let out an annoyed grunt as the gusts battered against him, his cheeks flushed an intense red. 

Harry’s lips twitched into a small, hesitant smile. 

His Padawan was still just a boy. Tom had a few more inches to grow before he’d reach Harry's height, and he had yet to master his control over his emotions. Tom was only fourteen years old. He was a child. 

Harry sighed fondly. 

Yes, he could afford to be more lenient with Tom. 

He didn’t need to remind his Padawan of the Jedi Code needlessly. Tom was already well aware of what he struggled with. Nagging him would only make things worse. 

His chest then gave an excited flutter, warming at the sight of Tom. His Padawan was trudging through the snow, struggling to stay upright. His lips were twisted into an adorable frown. 

Yes, he adored Tom and all of his antics. Every moment they spent together was precious. He loved the stiff, stuck-up attitude that his Padawan had. He loved watching it crumble. 

An excited gasp suddenly left Tom. His finger shot out, pointing towards what appeared to be a cave. It was barely noticeable in the violent flurry of snow.

Harry grinned broadly. Pleased, he placed his hand on his Padawan’s shoulder. “Good work, Tom! We’ll take shelter in the cave until the blizzard passes.”

Tom stared, wide-eyed, at the spot where Harry had touched him, a gentle warmth softening his gaze. A breathless sigh escaped his lips. “Yes, master,” he murmured lightly. His ears were as red as cherries.

A sudden spark of awareness then shot through Tom. Alarmed, he moved swiftly in front of Harry, blocking his path towards the cave. “We have no idea what’s inside that cave, master!” he said, his voice urgent. 

Pride slid across his face. Confidently, he straightened his posture. “You shouldn’t go near the cave, master. I’ll explore it first and make sure it’s safe.” 

A sense of incredulity rose within Harry. He blinked, momentarily speechless. Then, as his amusement deepened, he raised an eyebrow. “I can take care of myself, Tom,” he said with a snort. “We can survey the cave together. I’m not going to allow my Padawan to travel alone.” 

Tom scowled fiercely, his lips curling into a pout. His eyebrow twitched. “You’re not going to get hurt while I’m around,” he muttered angrily. 

Harry held back an amused smile. He knew that he shouldn't tease his Padawan. He really shouldn’t. 

Laughing, he flicked Tom with the Force playfully. Tom let out an enraged snarl. His Padawan bapped him back with the Force, lightly shoving him. Harry snorted happily. 

The two of them then cautiously approached the cave. Harry couldn’t help but scoff as he noticed Tom standing protectively in front of him. The boy was ridiculous. Harry didn't need his protection. He should be the one protecting Tom. 

Together, they peered into the cave. It was a dark, narrow space, so cramped that no creature could possibly make it its home. A few icicles dangled from the ceiling, their tips glistening like daggers. 

Harry and Tom nodded at one another. 

The cave was safe. The Force had remained silent as well, offering no warnings about the dark space. The relentless cold instantly lessened as they stepped inside. 

Harry then made a frustrated noise. The cave was too tight for them to stand apart, their shoulders were pressing tightly together.

Grunting, Harry shifted down onto the ground. The stone floor felt icy against his legs. His body trembled as the chill seeped into him. 

Tom joined him on the floor, their knees bumping lightly together. 

Worried, Harry turned towards his Padawan. Tom looked too pale. He looked almost frozen. Harry gnawed on his lip, concerned. He gently placed his hand on Tom’s cheek. “Are you alright, Tom?” he whispered. 

A shudder wracked through Tom’s body. His eyes had glazed over, pleased as he stared at Harry. He leaned into Harry’s touch. “Mhmn.” 

“We should take our clothes off,” Harry suggested in a light, teasing voice. “I know it’ll be slightly embarrassing—but we need the heat. We can huddle together. We can use our robes as makeshift blankets,” he offered Tom an awkward look. “I’m afraid that survival has no room for modesty.”

Tom said nothing. He stared at Harry, stunned. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. His disbelief blazed through the Force. 

A flush then trickled across Tom’s cheeks. It crept down his neck and along his collarbones. His tongue peeked out past his lips. Nervously, he licked them. 

“We’ll take our clothes off, master,” Tom said with a nod. He slowly began to pull his robes off. It felt almost like a striptease as Harry watched Tom undress. Each piece of fabric was pulled away languidly. The fabric pooled onto the ground. 

The entire moment was sensual. 

Harry pulled his robes off harshly. He had no desire to tease the fabric. 

Then, as he stripped down hastily, Harry huddled closer to Tom, crawling beneath their shared pile of clothes. Instantly, he felt warmer as his bare skin pressed against Tom’s. He tucked his head under Tom’s chin, and an arm wrapped around him, pulling him close. 

Harry’s eyelashes fluttered. 

He could hear the blizzard and its relentless raging outside. Trembling, he cuddled closer to Tom. 

A hand slid into his hair. Harry sighed. His Padawan’s hands were perfect. They were so warm. Tom twirled one of his curls gently. He tugged on the strand idly, silent. 

Harry made a quiet noise. His breath tickled along Tom’s neck. Yes, he felt warm and safe. 

His lips slid along Tom’s collarbones. In a breathless voice, he whispered, “We’ll continue to search for help once the blizzard clears. We’ll contact the Jedi Temple. They’ll send a new ship for us.” 

A nose nuzzled against the top of his head. Harry then heard a sharp intake of breath. 

“D-Did you just smell me?” he asked incredulously, his lips twitching. Harry shifted slightly so he could glance up at Tom. The boy had a blank look on his face. 

“No.”

A laugh tumbled past Harry’s lips. He snorted in disbelief, choking. 

A tired sigh then brushed against his forehead. Lips slid across his scar in a light kiss. “We’re close together, master,” Tom muttered. “It’d be impossible for me not to breathe on you.”

A warm laugh rumbled in Harry’s chest. He curled closer to Tom. “You’re impossible to deal with,” he retorted, his voice sharp. 

He glanced up at his Padawan again. Tom’s lips were slightly parted. He had a glossy sheen to his eyes. His face was beet red.

Good.  

Harry smiled.

It seemed like his Padawan was recovering from the cold. Tom was warming up again. 

“You'll be alright, Tom,” Harry said softly. “I promise I won’t tell anyone about—well, this part of our adventure on Hoth. I know you’d find it embarrassing.” 

He reached up towards Tom’s hair. 

Yes, they’d find help as soon as the blizzard passed. They’d return to Coruscant and relay their successful mission to the council. They’d laugh off this debacle. 

He twirled a strand of Tom’s hair around his finger. He carded through the boy’s locks. 

Tom shuddered again.

“Are you still cold?” Harry asked, worried. His grip on Tom’s hair tightened. 

Tom shook his head. “I’m alright, master,” he insisted. His body twitched. “Y-You should tell me a story, though,” he added. “It’ll help distract me.”

His Padawan shifted uncomfortably. Tom leaned away from Harry, blushing. He fiddled with the clothes covering them, nervously adjusting the fabric over his lap. 

“Alright, I’ll think of something,” Harry chuckled, smiling. “Hm.” He paused, searching for a lighter memory. “Well, I was almost eaten by a Dianoga once!” 

Tom’s eyes widened in horror. 

Harry then recounted his quick battle with the Dianoga. It was a fight that had occurred when he was just a Padawan. Its tentacles had crawled across his body, restraining his limbs. 

Tom appeared torn as he listened to Harry's story. 

His features contorted in disgust and outrage as he heard the ways in which Harry was almost hurt. Yet, as Harry explained how the tentacles had bound his wrists together, Tom's face took on a faintly flushed look.

Laughing, Harry described how he had struggled against the slick appendages, writhing and straining to break free. Tom shifted around nervously, his breaths growing uneven as his face reddened. Then, he’d abruptly close off, becoming angry again. 

It was all very confusing to Harry. 

The two of them sat in that cave until the blizzard finally subsided. Eventually, they discovered a local village equipped with the technology to contact Coruscant. 

Harry and Tom returned to the Jedi Temple triumphantly, their bond stronger than ever. 

All was well. 

***

Their next mission was going to be disastrous. The mission was abhorrent .

Harry couldn’t believe that the council had assigned them such a task. Harry and Tom were to travel to Zygerria. It was an undercover mission that involved them infiltrating the Zygerrian Royal Palace. 

Harry’s fists shook with rage as he climbed inside his cruiser. The small ship rose quickly into the air. 

Harry had no objections to them using fake identities; he and Tom had gone undercover plenty of times before. 

No.

He was bothered for an entirely different reason. 

Cursing, he swerved dangerously through an oncoming stream of traffic. His lips thinned. 

Typically, they posed as brothers to explain their unusual closeness, presenting it as a natural familial bond. His Padawan usually liked those missions. Tom loved acting as his brother. 

It always seemed slightly ridiculous to Harry. He didn’t need Tom as his brother. He needed him as his Padawan. 

For their mission to Zygerria, however, they wouldn’t be posing as brothers. 

Harry tapped his fingers restlessly. 

No, he couldn’t follow the Jedi Council and their instructions. He absolutely refused to. 

Harry gritted his teeth. Frustrated, he blared through another line of traffic. 

The council wanted Tom to pose as Harry’s concubine. 

It was an insensitive and cruel request. The council was aware of Tom’s past. The suffering Tom had endured at Wool’s Orphanage and in Little Hangleton was well known to them. 

He had been isolated and ignored by the matrons. He had been physically abused. His belongings had been stolen by the other children. 

Harry knew nearly everything Tom had gone through. The boy had told him horrific stories—stories that had torn Harry’s heart apart. Tom had confided in Harry, teary-eyed, his voice shaking as he had recounted his painful past. 

Harry had kept Tom especially close after that, refusing to let anyone near him. He could still remember hovering around Tom, panicked. Tom had been very happy about Harry’s swell of protectiveness. He had soaked up every glance and murmur of concern. 

His Padawan’s past reminded Harry of his own. He remembered his time with the Dursleys, the endless labour they had forced upon him. He had known hunger all too well in that house. 

Tom had lacked control over his life while on Quatrith. 

Harry didn’t want to control Tom or force him back into a vulnerable, helpless role. He wanted his Padawan to be free. He refused to hurt Tom, not even for a mission. 

Harry sped through the skies of Coruscant, weaving past others cruisers dangerously. His gaze sharpened as the tailor shop mentioned by the council came into view. 

He parked close to the shop, his hands still shaking. He took in a calming breath. He was supposed to be a Jedi. He had to let go of his frustration. 

Harry hopped out of his cruiser as he focused on his connection with the Force. 

He could clear his mind. 

Harry entered the shop. 

He could find inner peace.  

A small bell announced his arrival. 

The tailor quickly approached him. 

A wave of revulsion coursed through him as he touched the clothes the council had purchased for Tom. A blush scorched across his face. 

Oh. 

The outfits were highly inappropriate. They wouldn’t be suitable for combat, either. 

Flustered, he fumbled with the materials, touching what appeared to be an elastic garter. Harry dubiously eyed the intricate lace on one of the dresses. His lips trembled. 

He knew what he had to do. 

“Do you think you’d be able to modify the dresses?” Harry asked quietly. “They need to be smaller.” 

***

Harry stood by their spaceship as he waited for Tom to arrive. It was time for them to travel to Zygerria. Their gear had already been brought onto the ship. 

It was as he stood alone that he felt another presence through the Force. Surprise ran through him as he turned towards the familiar signature. His lips stretched into an excited smile. 

“It’s been far too long, Neville!” Harry shouted as the Jedi approached him. 

Neville had a nervous smile on his face. A light flush had begun to build in his cheeks. “W-Wotcha, Harry! I haven’t seen you since Kashyyyk.” 

Anxiously, Neville ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t need any botanical knowledge, right? We’re investigating the slave trade on Zygerria.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “The council didn’t tell me that you were coming along too.”

The colour in Neville’s cheeks darkened. 

“I thought they had already told you!” he shouted, horrified. His eyes widened with sudden understanding. “D-Dumbledore! No, oh no—I knew he’d meddle!”

Neville quickly deflated like a balloon. 

“I didn’t mean to shock you, honestly,” Neville said quietly. “The council wants me to break into some underground slaving facilities while you infiltrate the Zygerrian Royal Palace.”

An affectionate smile curled across Harry’s face. Neville was too kind for his own good. 

Content, he shifted closer to the Jedi. “You’ve done nothing wrong, honestly,” Harry replied back, his voice teasingly light. 

He bumped his shoulder against Neville’s. “You were so helpful on Kashyyyk. It was a great mission.” 

A sudden nervousness swept over Harry. He hesitantly glanced away. 

The tips of Neville’s ears had pinkened. The Jedi glanced down at his boots. “L-Listen, Harry. I’ve been meaning to tell you—”

“—What is he doing here?” A sharp voice spoke up. 

A darkness had begun to trickle through the Force as Tom approached the two of them. 

Tom appeared thunderous as he latched onto Harry. His grip was possessive and tight. The Force wrapped around Harry selfishly as well, clutching him needily. 

The nervous, pink blush on Neville’s face faded. He peered at Tom in confusion. 

His Padawan instantly reigned in his emotions. The Force pulsating around him transformed into an airy, relaxed grey. His entire being lightened. 

Tom inclined his head politely. “Ah, Longbottom. It will be a pleasure to work with you again. I apologize for my outburst. I was merely shocked.” 

“We need a moment to, uh, talk,” Harry grabbed onto Tom’s elbow. He glanced at Neville. “It’ll only take a second.” 

Harry dragged his Padawan across the flight line and away from Neville. Once they were alone, he whipped towards the sixteen-year-old. 

Tom shot him a deadly glare, his fists propped on his hips. “Shouldn’t he be in the courtyard with the younglings?” he hissed. 

Harry stepped towards Tom angrily. He glared up at his Padawan. “You shouldn’t speak so rudely to a Jedi Knight,” he replied back, hissing. “You’re a Padawan.”  

Tom scoffed. “We don’t need any of his botanical knowledge. Our mission involves us going undercover. We do not need to know about Zygerria and its plantlife.”

“Neville will be infiltrating the slaving facilities. It will only be the two of us for the majority of the mission.”

“He shouldn’t be coming with us at all!” Tom snarled, his tone sharp. 

It was as Harry opened his mouth to reply that he saw another figure approaching them. His frustration deepened. 

“You can pout on the spaceship, Tom,” he said quickly. Harry peered past Tom and at the orange robes sashaying closer. “I’ll meet you there soon.”

He watched as Tom’s expression shifted. Tom’s anger melted into dread. He had spotted the approaching Jedi Master. 

Tom stepped in front of him protectively. “You shouldn’t speak to him!” he hissed, his voice frantic. “He’ll turn you against me. He’ll whisper nothing but lies. He’ll—”

“—He’ll do no such thing,” Harry replied sharply. “You’re my Padawan. I’m always on your side,” his voice lowered. He gazed at Tom with open affection. “Nothing will change how I feel about you. You’ll always be the most important person in my life. Please, Tom,” he murmured, “wait for me on the ship.” 

Tom stared at Harry, his expression torn. His lips moved without sound. 

After a moment's hesitation, Harry reached out and touched Tom’s cheek. He cupped it gently, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles. Tom leaned into his touch with a contented sigh. 

The world was silent for one brief minute. 

A strange heat then unfurled in Harry’s chest. He couldn't help but notice how tall Tom had grown. Harry had to tilt his head to meet his Padawan’s eyes. 

Tom’s cheek was slightly rough as well, the scratch of freshly shaven skin. 

Nervous, Harry bit his lip. He felt strangely off. He felt almost shy as he stood beside Tom. 

A brief, faint smirk flickered across Tom’s face before vanishing. Tom then glanced behind Harry, his eyebrows furrowing in distaste. With another strained, reluctant glance, Tom left Harry’s side and began to return to the ship. 

A hand landed on Harry’s shoulder. 

Dumbledore had worn his sunny, vibrant orange robes, a pleasant smile on his face. “Ah, Harry! What a wonderful day. The world is bright and cheerful,” Dumbledore winked. “Perhaps you'd like to accompany me for a quick walk?” 

“You’re aware of what Tom’s childhood was like,” he snapped. His voice quickly lowered into an accusatory tone. “You know what he went through on Quatrith. Why would you do this to him? Why force him into the role of a consort? Does the council want to test him? Is this an early Jedi Trial?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. Pensive, he gave Harry a sad smile. “Undoubtedly, Quatrith is a quiet and conservative planet. It does not have the shine and fame that Tom would desire in a home.”

His former master paused meaningfully.

“I imagine that he was treated differently because of his connection with the Force. He would have been seen as odd. Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore sighed, “I doubt his treatment in Little Hangleton was in any way cruel or malicious. Tom wasn’t abused.”

Dumbledore quickly raised his hand, silencing Harry as he saw his mouth open. “The council hoped this mission would teach Tom the value of humility and patience. It is not shameful to find oneself in a position of submissiveness. All things must be balanced.”

“What about me, then?” Harry asked quietly. “The Dursleys did—well, what they did to me. I’ve moved past their actions. It never really mattered, anyway—the cupboard or the lies.”

A stormy, dark look swiftly entered Dumbledore’s eyes.

“I believe Tom and what he tells me. Our pasts are the same. If you refuse to believe Tom, that's your choice.”

“But what about me? Did the council hope this mission would teach me something? Did you want me to feel powerful while Tom was reduced to a concubine? Should I feel at peace with that?” 

The anger in his chest softened into sadness. “Your plan is flawed,” he whispered. “I won’t humiliate my Padawan. I refuse to.” 

Dumbledore’s eyes widened, shocked. “Harry, no! You’re not implying—”

“—Well, I should be leaving!” he exclaimed. “We must head to Zygerria! The mission must be completed!” He ignored the pained look on his former master’s face as he moved towards the spaceship.

It took no time at all for their ship to depart.

***

The ship would land soon. 

It would land soon and Harry would have to leave his room on the ship. He would have to face Neville and Tom in his new attire. 

His entire body twitched, shuddering. 

He was a Jedi. He had a duty to fulfill. He had to help the people of the Republic. 

His clothes didn’t matter. His appearance didn’t matter. 

He could wear anything while fighting. He could save countless lives while dressed in black lace. 

Harry shakily moved towards the door. It was time. He had to go. Harry took one last steadying breath. Trembling, he left his room. 

He had a gold collar around his throat. It glinted brilliantly even in the dim, muted light of the ship. His thighs were almost completely exposed. 

The black fabric of the dress trailed sleekly between his legs. It kept shifting with every step he took.

He had a garter on his right thigh. The black lace pinched slightly. Its tightness caused his skin to rise faintly over the fabric. 

The garter was completely visible to everyone as well. His stomach was exposed. His chest was barely covered by a billowy crop top. 

It was an embarrassing look for a Jedi. He was used to his thick, brown robes. His robes which covered nearly every inch of his body. 

But that didn’t matter now. He had to do his part. 

Harry entered the area near the boarding ramp. His gaze settled on his companions.  

Neville appeared animated as he spoke with Tom. He waved his hands about excitedly, a grin on his face. Tom maintained a polite smile. He appeared perfect and at ease. But Harry knew Tom. He knew his Padawan. 

Tom was frustrated. His shoulders were tense as he shifted beside Neville. His emotions were being hidden from the Force.  

He disliked Neville and his conversation with him. It was obvious to Harry. 

Harry smiled. 

His Padawan was such a prat. 

The two men froze as their gazes caught on Harry. 

A lot of things then occurred very quickly. 

An unmistakable redness crept into Neville’s cheeks. At first, he gaped like a fish. He looked completely and utterly shocked. 

The Jedi then began to stutter incoherently. His blush darkened impossibly further. His eyes watered.

Tom had a similar reaction. He blushed an intense red. It invaded his ears until they appeared more like cherries than flesh. He kept letting out shallow, trembling breaths. He was struggling to breathe. 

Harry ran towards his Padawan immediately. He grabbed onto the lapels of Tom’s robes. “Are you alright? You need to breathe! I’m not in any danger!” 

The thought that Tom was panicking because of Harry’s clothes—because of the mistaken belief that they had been forced upon him—caused Harry to chuckle. 

The entire situation was ridiculous. 

Another laugh left him. 

He reached up to cup Tom’s cheek. Tom leaned into his hand. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t told you everything, Tom,” he said almost deliriously. He laughed again. “We’re going undercover as a couple. You’re the son of Lars Quell, a prominent crime lord. You’ll be meeting with the Queen of Zygerria, and… I’ll be your concubine.” 

“Y-You should cover yourself, Harry!” Neville blurted out. The emotions on his face were changing rapidly. He seemed both anxious and oddly exhilarated as he staggered towards Harry. 

Neville then began to peel part of his robes off. He draped Harry in the brown fabric.

It was nice and warm. 

Harry blinked. 

“You, uh, didn’t need to do that, Neville,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t hide under any robes. It would be suspicious.” His fingers toyed with the worn, well-loved fabric. It scratched along his fingertips nicely. Harry smiled. 

“The gesture was sweet, though,” he murmured. 

A large hand suddenly gripped his arm. Tom had that familiar gleam of possessiveness in his eyes. He tugged Harry closer, Neville’s robes falling to the floor. 

“Your drop-off point is sooner than ours,” Tom said to Neville, tight-lipped. “You should get ready.”

Neville nodded in understanding. He dropped to his knees to pick up his robes. 

A sudden thought then came to Harry, startling him. Neville was larger than him. He was thick yet strong. He was taller than Harry, broad-shouldered and sturdily built. 

It was with great surprise that Harry realized that Neville was attractive. He made for an enticing image on his knees.  

An awkward blush rose into Harry’s cheeks. The idea of a man kneeling for him, one as powerful as Neville, made his stomach flutter. 

He felt as Tom's gaze began to burn into him. It was the heaviest it had ever been. He could feel his Padawan’s anger through the Force. Harry swiftly turned towards Tom. His breath stuttered. 

Tom’s eyes were dead. His Padawan’s gaze reflected the cold, desolate tundras of Hoth. 

Harry instinctively leaned in closer. He cupped Tom’s cheek again. Tom instantly softened beneath his touch, shuddering. 

Then, as he felt Tom’s presence lighten in the Force, he pinched the boy’s cheek. “You’re not allowed to throw a tantrum,” Harry whispered, unimpressed. “We’re on a mission. You need to act like a Jedi.”

Tom stiffened instantly. Snarling, he whispered angrily, “I have never thrown a tantrum. No one has ever accused me of being childish. You need to stop seeing me as—” he paused. 

A new light suddenly entered Tom’s eyes. He surveyed Harry quietly, smirking. 

Harry stood completely still. His posture went rigid with discomfort. He didn’t like the contemplative gleam in Tom’s eyes, not in the slightest. 

“We’ll stay in touch!” Neville said off-handedly. His eyes were not on the two of them. Instead, he had begun to make his way over to the control panel. 

Tom pressed against Harry firmly, a quiet intensity in his touch. “Yes, we’ll stay in touch, Longbottom,” Tom replied, nodding politely. After a moment, Tom wrapped his arm around Harry, holding him close.

Harry internally winced. He had a really bad feeling about the mission.  

He stared at Tom silently, observing him and his warm, indulgent expression. Harry recoiled again. 

Yes, he had a bad feeling about the mission. It was going to be abhorrent. 

***

The gentle scrape of cutlery against porcelain filled the opulent dining room. A gorgeous chandelier hung above them. Its crystals sparkled and shimmered like shattered stars. 

The dining table was adorned with gold. It almost seemed to be glowing as they ate their dinner. 

Harry leaned against Tom’s chest. A comforting warmth seeped into his flesh. Tom moved his hands down onto Harry’s hips, squeezing them firmly. The contact between their skin was electric. 

It felt strange for Harry’s bare hips to be held, but sitting in Tom’s lap felt even stranger. His hips gave an uncomfortable squirm. 

Tom grunted.

A boisterous, loud laugh reached his ears. The Queen fanned herself as her chuckles died out. She reached for her wine glass. “You’re quite the man, Denturi,” she crooned to Tom. “I will need men with your talents if I am to succeed.” 

Tom laughed charmingly, leaning forward in his seat. His smile widened. “It would bring me nothing but pleasure to serve you.”

His thumbs pressed against Harry’s hips. “Your goal is one I find most noble. The rich should not go without pleasure,” he said smoothly, his voice seductive. One hand then fell onto Harry’s thigh. Tom squeezed him, his breath ghosting across Harry’s cheek. 

The Queen waved her hand through the air. “The weak deserve nothing more than to kneel before the strong. All lifeforms can be bound into servitude, spurring nothing but pleasure in our veins.” 

The girl beside the Queen shivered. She was dressed as scantily as Harry was. The bones around her stomach were protruding slightly outwards. 

She was worryingly skinny. 

Harry’s blood simmered with rage. 

The people of this planet were suffering. The Dursleys had often threatened to sell him into slavery. It was a common threat in their household. 

Harry was just glad that he hadn’t been sold at a market, one like the Zygerrians ran. His life would’ve been very different. Grimacing, he released his emotions into the Force. 

The girl offered the Queen a morsel of food from her fork. The Queen licked it off sensually. She reached towards the girl, stroking her cheek. “We deserve diligent pets,” the Queen laughed. 

Harry’s lips twisted with revulsion. Shifting, he hid his face against Tom’s neck. 

He couldn’t attack the Queen outright. She had more information about the slave trade on Zygerria than anyone else. She was its biggest supporter. 

He pressed an angry hiss against Tom's skin. His hands were shaking as he clung to his Padawan. 

The mission was as revolting as he thought it’d be. 

“Aren’t you worried the Jedi will interfere with your work?” Tom asked softly. He patted Harry’s thigh reassuringly. “The Jedi do not take kindly to slavery.” 

A sharp laugh left the Queen. She raised her wine glass. “The Jedi are nothing! The Jedi have forsaken their ideals to serve a corrupt Republic. They no longer fight for the people. They will not come to Zygerria because the Republic will not command them to.”

Harry jolted backwards, trembling against his Padawan’s chest. A tingle of electricity coursed through him. Tom was teasingly pinching his thigh. He drew in a sharp breath. 

Tom’s fingers were snaking under his garter. His Padawan was toying with the flimsy piece of lace, stretching it as he pleased. He pulled it further back. 

Tom smirked at him. The garter snapped back against Harry’s thigh, stinging as Tom released the pretty lace. 

Harry jolted again. 

He had to focus. He couldn’t get distracted by Tom playing his part. He had a part to play as well. Harry draped his arm around Tom’s shoulders. He scooted back onto Tom’s thigh, shifting slightly higher. 

Harry leaned in close to press a kiss against Tom’s cheek. The skin tasted slightly salty. It tingled on his tongue. 

A strained gasp reached Harry’s ears. 

Tom appeared flustered as he shifted in his seat. His cheeks were darkening—blooming into a deep, burgundy red, the divinity of spilt wine. The rich hue complimented his eyes.

The desire to make Tom’s embarrassment deepen swelled within him. Amused, Harry leaned in close for another kiss. His lips slid along Tom’s cheek. The skin felt deeply flushed beneath him, intensely so. He poked Tom in his ribs playfully. 

Harry held back a laugh. Tom was ridiculously red. His breath stuttered as he whispered into Tom’s ear, “You’re a Tom-ato again.”

He pressed a quick kiss against his Padawan’s jaw. His tongue slipped out past his lips. He gave Tom a slow, teasing lick. Tom shuddered. 

A hand squeezed his thigh. 

The touch was accompanied by a light sting. Tom’s nails were scraping along his flesh. He was gripping him harshly. 

A huff of laughter left Harry. He rubbed his nose against Tom’s cheek. The faint prickle of the barely-there stubble felt strangely right against Harry's skin.

The Queen stroked the rim of her wine glass. “Every Jedi has become a slave to the Republic. The council will not interrupt our plans,” her voice softened as she eyed the two of them. An excited light entered her eyes. 

“You have quite the concubine, Denturi,” the Queen purred. “To have such an eager thing on your arm is an incredible boon. I know you understand our cause and its benefits.” 

Her posture straightened as she hissed, “To spread our ways across the galaxy will be difficult. But I have faith in the Zygerrian Empire. The galaxy has become weak. We shall forge the stars into obsidian.” 

Tom raised his wine glass towards the Queen, smirking, “To everlasting life.” 

The Queen lifted her wine glass in turn. 

***

The door to their shared chambers slammed open with a loud crash. Harry watched as his Padawan stormed inside the luxurious space. 

Tom appeared utterly furious. His features were contorted into a vicious sneer. A maroon light glinted in his eyes, the malignity of blood. The Force rippled off him in violent waves. 

A small, concerned frown flitted across Harry’s face. He padded closer to Tom. “I’ve got you,” he whispered to his Padawan. His arms wrapped around Tom in an embrace. “I’m always with you. I won’t leave your side. We’ll complete this mission together.” 

The darkness radiating around Tom sharpened. His shoulders shook violently as he growled, “Everyone is staring at you. Every filthy Zygerrian on this cruk-hole planet wants you! They don’t deserve to look at you—”

“—You shouldn’t talk like that, Tom,” Harry said harshly. “You need to remain in control of your emotions. You cannot allow your rage to guide you. It will only lead you down an uncertain path, the path of darkness.” 

His words weren’t helping Tom. He could feel his Padawan’s distraught building in the Force. Tendrils of darkness were coiling around Tom menacingly, writhing with an all-consuming hate. 

Harry’s teeth worried at his lip, biting.

He knew what he had to do. He had to help his Padawan. A jolt of concern pierced sharply in his chest. He knew that the council wouldn’t approve of his actions. The Force wasn’t meant to be used in close, intimate ways. 

Yet, as Harry saw Tom’s clenched fists, his nails biting into his flesh, he knew that he couldn’t allow his Padawan to suffer. He wanted to soothe the ache swelling from Tom. 

Concentrating, he focused on his connection with the Force. Harry cleared his mind until he felt weightless. 

Then, cautiously and with great care, he allowed himself to touch Tom. He brushed against Tom’s signature in the Force, stroking him with soft, curious tendrils. 

A sudden, faint gasp left Harry. 

Their energies were entwining in an intimate dance. 

Harry squirmed closer to Tom.  

It almost felt as though he was inside Tom. His spirit was whirling about in Tom’s ribcage like a bird. The light inside Harry was washing over Tom, slipping inside his every crevice.

It then dawned on him that he couldn’t feel his Padawan breathing. Tom’s chest had completely stilled. 

“You need to breathe, Tom,” Harry whispered into his Padawan’s ear. “You need to focus on where you are. You need to ground yourself,” he touched Tom’s wrist, his fingers barely brushing the skin. “I’m here with you.” 

Harry took in a slow, measured breath. In an almost hesitant, strained movement, Tom slowly copied him. The two of them breathed as one, their hearts pulsing in tandem. 

He couldn’t imagine the distress Tom was battling against, the turmoil. Harry knew he would’ve felt awful in Tom’s place. He couldn’t imagine witnessing the degradation of his former master. He would’ve raged at the injustice. He would’ve hated the placing of Dumbledore as a concubine. 

His voice was reassuring as he whispered, “We’ll return to Coruscant soon.”

A sudden blush scorched across Tom’s cheeks. His gaze lowered hesitantly. The Force was pulsating around him with anxiety. 

Harry leaned in closer. He brushed his fingers along Tom’s wrist again. 

Tom flashed him another uncertain look. His tongue slid out slowly. Harry’s gaze tracked the sensual movement. He watched as Tom wetted his lips. 

“There is only one bed, master,” Tom whispered softly. His eyes still held an unusual nervousness. Harry had never seen Tom so unsure before. 

“We’ll share the bed. We’ve shared a bedroom before—this is nothing new,” he said with a slight smile.

The grin that stretched across Tom’s face was brilliant. Harry couldn’t help but laugh with unrestrained joy. 

A sudden thought then came to him. His eyes widened as he stated, “We should contact Neville.” 

Tom’s presence in the Force instantly soured, the shift so abrupt that Harry had to choke back a laugh. “You have no reason to be upset, Tom,” he gasped, his lips twitching. “We need to stay in contact with Neville. We need to keep him updated.” 

Tom gave him an unsatisfied sneer. His eyes brimmed with hatred, boiling, as he spat, “You shouldn't talk to him about anything other than the mission.” 

The amusement in Harry's chest died. “You aren’t allowed to control me, Tom,” he growled. “You’re my Padawan. You take orders from me. I can do whatever I want—”

“—You do whatever the Jedi Council orders you to do!” Tom snarled back at Harry. His face reddened as his hands clenched with rage. The words were spat with a seething intensity. 

“You’ll never live the way,” he choked, “that you’ve always wanted to! You’ll never get to explore the Abrion sector! You’ll never get to revisit Alderaan! You’ll waste your time following the Jedi Council and their backwards, feelingless teachings.”

The Force clouded around Tom with a familiar emotion. 

Harry paused. His lips parted in shock. 

He had never considered that Tom might resent the Jedi Council.  

It was an unsettling realization. After all, the council had provided them both with a home, the secure and accepting walls of the Jedi Temple. The Jedi had treated them with kindness. 

Harry had given Tom so many lessons about the Jedi Code and its importance. The Jedi held themself apart from everything in order to protect the universe. Their duty to the people came before anything else. 

Tom had always seemed so excited to become a Jedi. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He could recall Tom meditating and practising with his lightsaber, but he couldn’t recall his Padawan smiling. Tom never smiled or laughed with the people they saved. His Padawan was never relieved when they prevented the deforestation of a planet or its over-pollution. 

Harry took one step away from Tom, then another. He couldn’t believe that he had failed Tom so tremendously. His Padawan didn’t value the Jedi Code because Harry hadn’t pushed him enough. 

Tom let out a pained noise. His skin paled as Harry shifted further away. He became hesitant, unsure as he reached towards Harry. 

Harry squared his shoulders together. He had to set an example for his Padawan. He couldn't let the Jedi Code evaporate until no boundaries existed between them—no guiding principles.

In a cold, detached voice, he whispered, “You cannot allow your emotions to control you. You cannot become consumed by passion. There is no emotion; there is peace. The Jedi are not meant to be tethered to one another.” 

Tom had a stricken look on his face. His eyes were wide with dread. 

Harry ignored the pain in his chest. He turned away from his Padawan. “You should practice your meditation. It will do you some good.” 

Tom let out another hurt noise. 

Harry moved towards the bed while taking out his comlink. 

He had to do this. He had to be responsible, to establish—well, firm boundaries. He couldn’t allow Tom to disregard the Jedi Code. He couldn’t allow his Padawan to disrespect his superiors. 

He had to do this. 

For the both of them. 

***

The sun was hot upon his back as he followed Tom through an exotic, lush garden. He was several paces behind his Padawan. Tom was beside the Queen as they discussed the Zygerrian Slave Empire and their upcoming plans. 

Harry’s gaze fell onto the girl beside him. It was the same girl that had attended their previous dinner. She had deep, purple bags under her eyes, sloppily concealed with makeup. 

A tight knot formed in his stomach. Harry wouldn’t leave the palace without her. He would free her from her place beside the Queen. 

Harry shifted subtly in an attempt to meet her gaze. Her dull amber eyes rose to meet him. He stilled. 

She was deeply exhausted.  

He could feel her fatigue through the Force. 

His golden, metal collar then dug uncomfortably into his throat. Harry hissed through his teeth, frustrated. The white, iridescent skirt was far too short. It was made out of a smooth, glossy material. His crop top was made out of the same fabric as well. 

An elaborate chain of pearls went across his exposed stomach. The small beads glided sensually across his skin. It was an almost ticklish sensation. 

“We keep companions to give us pleasure,” the Queen crooned to Tom. “Zygerria will soon become a popular place. The rich will flock here to sample our cuisine of flesh.”

His Padawan then abruptly turned around. He stared directly at Harry. 

Harry fought back the urge to snarl at Tom. He couldn’t blow their cover because the two of them were in a fight. It would be unprofessional. He had a role to play. 

It didn’t matter that he and Tom weren’t talking. 

It didn’t matter how strained things were between them.

He had a mission to finish. 

Tom smirked seductively at the Queen. “We’ll attract plenty of high-class lifeforms. Your planet will become the centre of the Galactic Republic.” Tom threw his arm out in an abrupt gesture, beckoning Harry closer. 

Fighting back an irritated grumble, Harry sashayed towards Tom. He tucked himself against his Padawan’s side. An arm immediately wrapped around him. 

Leaning onto his tip-e-toes, Harry pressed several soft kisses along Tom’s cheek. A dazed look came across his Padawan’s face. 

The Queen let out a delighted laugh. “You’ve found yourself quite the treat, Denturi,” she said teasingly. “You should treasure him while he lasts.”

Tom’s lips parted into an unsavory grin. His eyes darkened as he purred, “He’ll know nothing but pleasure.” Tom pulled him closer. The heat between their bodies now felt like an inferno. 

The Queen gave them a curious look. A devilish smile then lit up her face. “Pleasure is our business, Denturi,” she smirked. 

The four of them then continued their stroll through the garden. 

***

Harry leaned towards his comlink, gasping, “You’ve found the missing people of Kiros?”

Neville made an affirmative noise. “I’ve even found their governor, Gupat Roshti. I have a plan to extract them from the facility—well, more of a rough idea. You’ll have to stay at the Zygerrian Royal Palace for longer. You’ll need to keep the Queen and her guards distracted.”

“Are you sure that you won’t need our help?” Harry asked, his voice worried. 

The comlink remained quiet for several seconds. With a sharp crackle of life, a low, staticky voice came through, “Y-You’re amazing, Harry. I appreciate the offer, r-really. But I need you and Tom to stay at the palace. It’ll be suspicious if you leave to help me. It’ll draw too much attention.”

His voice then quieted as he whispered, “Besides, I can handle the hard, combat-intensive work too.” 

A small smile curved across Harry’s face. “Of course, Neville,” he murmured. “Stay safe.”

He then heard a disgusted scoff across the bedroom. His head whipped towards his Padawan, the source of the noise.  

Tom had an affronted look on his face. His lip curled in disgust as he glared at the comlink. His eyebrow then steadily rose upwards. He gave Harry an amused, pointed stare. 

He could feel Tom’s disdain towards Neville through the Force.

Harry sprang to his feet. He flashed his Padawan a sharp glare before storming off. He ignored the hurt look on Tom’s face. 

He refused to acknowledge Tom and his aggravating behaviour. 

The silence between them could go on for a while longer. 

***

The bedroom was dark. Shadows danced elegantly along the walls in an elaborate, ethereal display. Harry blinked sleepily as he watched the shifting light. 

A heavy yawn left him. Content, he burrowed deeper into his blankets. Harry was near the edge of the bed. He was as far away from Tom as physically possible. 

He could feel his Padawan’s eyes on him, burning in their intensity, steaming. Harry shifted awkwardly in place. Tom had to learn how to curb his attachments. He had to learn that following the Jedi Code was not optional. 

A quiet whisper breached the silence between them, “Goodnight, master.” 

Harry felt his chest crack in pain. His grip on the blankets tightened. He couldn't give in to Tom. It was Harry’s behaviour that had caused this mess. 

Harry had inadvertently taught Tom that he could reject the Jedi Code. He could be attached to and as close to Harry as he wanted to be. 

Determined, he remained on his side of the bed. He ignored Tom’s breathless whispers and the lulling warmth of his body. 

It was only as Harry began to drift to sleep, his eyelids flickering, that he felt a large hand on his back. Tom fisted his fingers into Harry’s shirt, gripping him firmly. He tugged on Harry needily. 

The touch wasn’t enough to stop Harry from falling asleep. His vision edged into darkness as playful, warm fingers splayed across his back. 

In the morning, he ignored Tom as he readied himself for another day of work. He ignored his Padawan’s desperate pleas to talk. He refused to meet Tom’s gaze as he sat in the man’s lap. 

All was well. 

***

A sharp growl shot past Harry’s teeth as he stormed inside their bedroom. He was alone. Tom was with the Queen, schmoozing her until she divulged every secret she held. 

Harry tugged on his curls angrily. He couldn’t wait for the mission to be over. It was their worst one yet. He never wanted to return to Zygerria again. 

He couldn't stand the slave traders and the way they discussed living, intelligent people. He couldn’t stand his Padawan agreeing with them.  

His feet skidded to a halt, startled, as he noticed a bouquet of pink flowers resting on his bed. The flowers were an intense, coral pink—their leaves a glossy green. Sharp, jagged thorns lined the stems. 

Harry stepped closer, his eyes wide as he admired the gorgeous bouquet. He had never been given flowers before. It had to be a gift from Tom, a plea for forgiveness. Tom wanted to speak with him. 

His fingertips brushed against the soft, velvety petals. A faint, sweet fragrance was spreading through the air, curling shyly around him. He inhaled sharply. 

He felt strangely off-balance, dazed as he plucked the flowers off the bed. The sweetness was coalescing in his lungs, building in its cloying touch. 

His feet stumbled as he swayed dangerously. Harry clutched his head. His heart was beating faster in his chest. He could feel its irregular pumps. An odd heat was simmering along his flesh. 

With an unsteady, shuddering gasp, he collapsed onto the bed. 

***

Tom burst into their shared chambers with a loud bang. His Padawan was panting heavily, his robes dishevelled. He had lost all the colour in his cheeks. The Force was pulsating around him in heavy, dark waves. 

Tom bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. “She threatened you,” he growled. “She said she’d give me a good time. She said she’d show me unfathomable pleasure through you. Are you alright, master? Are you feeling—” Tom paused. 

His Padawan had finally begun to notice him and his flustered state. The thin, satin blankets on the bed were tossed carelessly about, rumpled and tangled. The pink flowers were now crushed. Harry had rolled onto the delicate flowers, scattering them across the bed. 

A few petals were tangled into his curls. His skin was flushed an adorable pink, the colour travelling across his body. His eyes were glossy, blissful as he wriggled across the sheets. 

“You’ve been poisoned, master,” Tom whispered, his voice cold. His eyes flared red. A snarl broke past his lips, “The entire planet must die. You're never allowed to get hurt! Never!” 

A desperate moan left Harry’s lips. His eyelashes fluttered. He crooned as he crawled onto his knees, creeping towards Tom. 

The fabric covering him was near translucent. Flashes of his flushed skin could be seen through the light material. The outfit was a mint green, faded in its soft hue. He no longer had a skirt on. Instead, he had a smooth pair of panties covering him. His erection was straining against the glossy fabric. An obscene wet patch glistened enticingly. 

Tom stilled. The rage in his eyes quickly dissipated. His lips parted with one weak, stuttered breath. He looked amazed as he watched Harry. 

The satin sheets glided smoothly along his bare skin. The soft touch caused Harry to shudder. His entire body felt overly sensitive. Each gentle brush against his flesh had him gasping wantonly. His hips jutted towards the bed.

Quick, small breaths kept leaving his lips. His mind was enveloped in a warm, thick fog. He couldn’t think clearly. He couldn't think at all. 

Flustered, he bit down on his lip, swollen and pink. “Come to me, Tom,” he gasped. Harry rolled onto his back. “I need you, hngh ,” he arched off the bed. “I need you to t-touch me.” His legs quickly separated. He trembled against the mattress, writhing as he was overwhelmed by every simple touch. 

The bedroom was quiet for one short moment. 

A weak, desperate sob left Harry. He felt as though he was about to die. He thrashed against the sheets, shaking. He was about to burst into flames. The heat was all-consuming.

The mattress dipped as Tom crawled onto the bed. His pupils were dilated into murky pools. The faint scent of his aftershave drifted into the air. It was the warm, smoky scent of leather. Harry found that he wanted to lick the delicious smell. He wanted to taste Tom’s skin. 

Harry scooted closer to his Padawan. “You’re so handsome, Tom,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Y-You need to touch me, Tom,” he cried. “You need to stay with me. Don't leave!”

A cool hand slid across Harry’s face. The gentle touch came with instant relief. It caused the oppressive heat boiling inside him to lessen. He leaned into his Padawan’s touch, curling closer like a tooka-cat. 

Tom’s thumb slid gently beneath his eye, tender and slow, as he brushed away several tears. Harry hadn’t even realised he was crying. He nudged himself closer to his Padawan. 

A soft murmur left Tom’s lips, hesitant and unsure, “You’ll always be safe with me, master.” 

Tom appeared conflicted as he touched Harry's face. His eyes kept darting towards his lips. His cheeks were a beet red, inflamed and burning with something. 

It had to be shame. Tom was mortified that he had Harry as his master, a master who couldn’t resist the lure of an aphrodisiac. He was an embarrassment. 

Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine his appearance. His lips would be bitten an amaranth pink, parted as he let out weak, trembling breaths. Tom would be able to feel the plush warmth of his cheeks. It would radiate in the space between them. 

His eyes would be glazed over, unfocused as he gazed up at his Padawan. He would have to gaze up at Tom, angling his head back, because Tom was now taller than him. His Padawan had grown up quickly. 

Harry let out an affectionate noise. Each stroke of Tom’s thumb brought a refreshing coolness. He wanted to feel those fingers sliding across his chest. He wanted Tom’s hands to grip his hips. 

The most regretful, apologetic expression then came over his Padawan’s face. “We’re not going to do anything, hngh, intimate,” Tom choked. He looked like he could barely believe what he was saying. “I promised you that you’d always be safe with me. I intend to keep that promise.” 

Tom’s eyes softened considerably, hazy as he murmured, “You’re the most important person in my life. No one could ever compare to you. You’ll always be cared for with me.” 

In one swift, seamless movement, Tom undid his robes to expose his chest. He gathered Harry into his arms and leaned back onto the bed. Harry gasped. The contact with Tom’s exposed skin felt incredible. It soothed the flames flickering inside him. The sweat prickling on his nape felt less unpleasant. 

Pleased, he slid his cheek across Tom’s chest. He buried his face into his Padawan’s flesh. “You’re mine, Tom,” he murmured. Sleepily, he wrapped himself around his Padawan, squeezing him firmly. 

Tom plucked a pink petal from Harry’s curls, twirling it. His fingers carded through the rest of his hair. Soft lips then pressed against the shell of Harry’s ear, whispering, “Stay close to me.” 

And Harry did. 

***

The bedroom door creaked open with a soft noise. A gentle streak of light cut into the dense darkness. 

A soft whine escaped past his lips. Grimacing, he buried his face into Tom’s chest. He slid his nose along his pectoral while breathing in sharply. Tom clutched the back of his head.

“You’ve been alone with your companion for several days, Denturi,” the Queen smiled from the doorway. “Are you enjoying the gift of our planet?” 

Tom tilted his head towards the Queen. He flashed her a charming smile, beaming, “It has been delightful.” 

The Queen let out an excited laugh before closing the door to their bedroom. The two of them were left alone with one another. 

Harry’s lips slid along the column of Tom’s throat. It was a light, barely-there kiss. Sighing, he leaned in closer, gliding his tongue over his Padawan’s neck. His skin tasted slightly salty. 

An aroused purr left Harry. He stroked Tom’s chest teasingly, his hand drifting downwards, downwards until his pinky finger was nudging against Tom’s waistband—

Tom gripped his wrist. He gently pulled Harry’s hand away while Harry whined. 

“You’ll be alright, master,” Tom breathed into his ear. “It’ll be over soon. We’ll return to Coruscant. You’ll be safe there.”

Harry couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.

***

The mission was over. 

Neville had broken into three slave processing facilities. He had freed the imprisoned habitants inside each one, battling against the guards and surpassing the tight, established security measures. 

The freed slaves would be brought back with them to Coruscant. From there, the Jedi would work tirelessly to return them to their planets and families. 

The Queen would be tried for her crimes on Coruscant at the Republic Center. Her supporters would face justice as well. Tom and Harry had personally attacked and captured the slave traders, the ones the Queen had been entertaining in the palace.

It was as Harry stood outside their spaceship that he spotted Tom. His lips split apart into a nervous, shaky smile. He dashed towards his Padawan. 

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, Tom,” he said. His gaze flickered towards the earth, anxious. He felt like he was going to choke.

He had barely spoken to Tom since the incident. He couldn’t look his Padawan in the eyes. His insides felt as turbulent as the ocean. He was disgusted by himself.

He was as awful as the slave traders. 

Harry swiped at his eyes. He knew that certain Jedi could expel toxins from their body by using the Force. He should’ve paid better attention to Snape and his lessons on meditation. He could’ve resisted the aphrodisiac through focused, disciplined meditation. 

His Padawan would’ve been able to fight the aphrodisiac off. Tom knew how to properly meditate. 

Harry was just a failure. He shouldn’t even be around Tom. He was unfit to remain his master. 

His guilt kept resurfacing, surging with every concerned glance Tom gave him. It was a miracle that he had even been able to fight alongside his Padawan without crumbling completely. 

Yet, as Harry opened his mouth, intent on rejecting their relationship, he found he couldn’t speak. His heart was pushing him in another direction, a path he knew he shouldn’t go down. 

Tom blinked in surprise. His eyes were worried. He sidled closer to Harry, his robes shifting. “Are you alright, master?” he asked quietly. 

Harry’s shoulders shook as he stood still. He knew what he was about to do was wrong. His lips moved silently, twisting without sound. It went against everything he had been taught. 

The Jedi weren’t supposed to become attached to one another. He had an obligation to let Tom go. He couldn’t stay beside his Padawan forever. He had to accept and encourage his graduation. 

The inside of his mouth tasted like ash. Twitching, he glanced up at his Padawan. 

Tom had a blinding smile on his face. His eyes were bright as he took in Harry and his nervous appearance. His cheeks were flushed with colour. Excited, he licked his lips. 

Tom gently cradled Harry’s hands, holding them close. “You’re alright, master,” he said encouragingly. “You can tell me anything. You can confess anything to me.” 

The guilt writhing inside Harry peaked, exploding. He didn’t deserve Tom. He didn’t deserve the care that his Padawan had shown him. Tom had taken care of him for over a week. 

His Padawan had leaned over him, attentive, as he lifted a glass of water to Harry’s lips. Tom had encouraged Harry to eat even the tiniest morsels of food. He had changed Harry out of his slick, sweat-soaked clothes. His Padawan had bathed him. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s lips. He gave Tom’s hands an encouraging squeeze. 

“To love without attachment is difficult,” he choked. “My former master warned me that I would struggle. I would struggle in holding you apart from myself.” Harry took in a steadying breath. “I’ve always done everything I could to become a great Jedi. It was all that I wanted.”

His gaze rose to meet Tom’s eyes. He murmured weakly, “That isn’t what I want, not anymore.”

The blush on Tom’s face intensified. He leaned further into Harry’s space, his breaths ragged. 

Harry fought back the panic building in his chest. Struggling, he attempted to release his emotions into the Force. He knew what he wanted to say. 

His lips parted as he whispered, “You’re the greatest friend that I’ve ever had.” 

The planet came to a halt. 

Tom stared at him, horrified. His mouth opened and an airy, weak noise left him. His face paled rapidly. 

Harry didn’t know what was wrong.  

He thought—well, he’d foolishly hoped that Tom would return his feelings. He thought of Tom as his greatest companion. 

His feelings clearly weren’t reciprocated, though. 

The thought caused Harry to feel nauseous. He couldn’t believe that he was alone in his feelings. Tom had sent him so many signals, signals that Harry had apparently misread.

Tom looked sickened. He looked almost revolted at the idea that he’d ever be friends with Harry. Friendship had never been an option between them.

Harry stumbled backwards, mortified. He wanted to disappear into the earth. "Well, I'll see you around then—”

In one quick, serpentine movement, arms enveloped him. Tom pulled him into a tight embrace. He clung onto him like an ewok, determined in his grip. 

“You’re the only thing that matters to me. I’d never reject you. You’re mine, master,” Tom hissed. His hands clawed at Harry’s back. “You’re mine.”

A wave of relief crashed over Harry. Desperate, he sank into the embrace. He buried his face into Tom’s robes. “You were always mine first, Tom,” he murmured. His shoulders lightly trembled.

Harry didn’t notice the distress contorting Tom’s features. He didn’t notice his shaking hands or his thumping heart. Instead, he gazed up at the night sky above them, smiling. 

The galaxy and its stars somehow felt brighter.

Chapter Text

The marketplace was bustling with life. He could hear vendors hollering as the salesmen attempted to promote their delicious, savory snacks. The smell of fresh fish was distinct in the air. It curdled towards Harry in a strong cloud. 

The people of Naboo were strolling through the market, their hands full of various treats. The entire planet was submerged in an intoxicating happiness. The sound of mirthful laughter echoed in the bright, open space. The laughter trailed Harry as he moved towards Tom. 

He could see his Padawan inspecting his nails. Tom had an apathetic look on his face. He appeared disinterested in the large celebration. 

An amused, breathy laugh left Harry. He couldn’t believe that Tom was bored at one of the largest festivals held in the galaxy. Smiling, he crept closer to his Padawan. He readied his weapon. 

Harry dashed towards his Padawan, his eyes narrowed as he attacked. He slashed his weapon across Tom’s cheek, watching as the tangy, dark sauce slid across his flesh. Laughing, he teasingly poked his Padawan with the warm kabob. 

Tom gave him an unimpressed look. He raised his eyebrow at Harry. “Are you threatening me?” he asked quietly. His voice was low with amusement. 

Smirking, Tom swiped his finger across his cheek. The spicy sauce clung onto his skin, sticky as he brought his finger to his mouth. 

His Padawan let out a pleased noise. “It tastes delicious,” he groaned. Tom quickly touched his cheek again. He collected the sauce on the tip of his finger. His eyes darkened with desire. “You should try the sauce, master,” he purred. 

A finger pressed against Harry’s lips. It slid lazily across his flesh. He could feel the sauce clinging to his lips, tingling in its spiciness. 

Harry parted his lips. He slowly licked away the tangy sauce. It was quite delicious.  

Pleased, he licked Tom’s finger, tasting the remaining sauce. He sucked the finger into his mouth.

A rough, guttural groan escaped Tom’s lips.

Harry shot him an amused look. The finger left his mouth with a wet pop, his lips tilting into a smile. “You’re the one who touched my lips, Tom,” he snorted softly. A small huff left him. “You’re not allowed to get grossed out by me. I’ll lick you wherever I want to.” 

Tom’s eyes suddenly sharpened. He leaned in close, whispering, “Is that so? I’d like to see that, master.” A smirk pulled at his lips. “You should give it your best effort. You can try and lick me wherever you want to.” 

Harry gave Tom a dazed look. 

Snorting, he poked his Padawan repeatedly with the kabob. “You’re such a prat, Tom,” he replied, smiling. “You’ve made for an interesting first Padawan. I never thought I’d get stuck with an uptight, cynical—”

“—I’d say I’m a rather fine Padawan,” Tom retorted, his eyes gleaming. “I’ve accomplished feats no other Padawan could even hope to match.” His voice noticeably softened as he murmured, “I’ve tolerated your silliness for years.” 

The peaceful moment then quickly ended. A vicious anger settled across Tom’s features. Snarling, he invaded Harry’s space as he latched onto him. “You’ll never have another Padawan. You don’t need anyone but me. I’ll destroy—”

“—You’ll destroy nothing, Tom,” Harry said sharply. “I have no desire to take on another Padawan. You’ve already been quite the handful—” 

Tom’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. 

“—Besides, that’s not what I meant. I didn't mean to imply that I’d be mentoring someone else. You’ve been more than enough for me.” 

A light blush trickled across Harry’s cheeks. Flustered, he bit down on his lip. “I’ve already told you that you’re my friend. You’re special to me. I’ll never have anyone like you in my life again. You don’t need to compete with some make-believe Padawan.” 

A hint of amusement then entered his voice as he whispered, “Unless, of course, you’d like to take preventative measures—then by all means, eliminate the younglings at the Temple.” 

A strange gleam suddenly flickered in Tom’s eyes. His lips tilted slightly upwards. 

The expression on his face was far too intrigued. 

Harry stumbled towards his Padawan, shouting, “It was a joke, Tom! You’re not allowed to beat up younglings! You’d obviously win—but that’s not the point!” 

A grimace crossed Harry’s face as he noticed Tom preening with pride. His Padawan was ridiculous. There was no reason for him to take pride in everything Harry said.

A now familiar feeling of shame washed over him. He wasn't as powerful as Tom. He wasn't as disciplined as his Padawan. Tom had no reason to value his praise. 

Harry didn't understand why his Padawan still clung to him. He couldn't offer Tom any worthwhile knowledge or power—not anymore. Tom had begun to surpass him. 

He had utterly failed his Padawan on Zygerria. 

Shifting, he shoved his emotions towards the Force. He refused to dwell on something he couldn’t control. He wouldn't fight Tom if his Padawan chose to leave him. He’d respect his wishes. A Jedi should always be proud of their Padawan graduating. 

A small smile tugged at his lips. Harry already knew that he and Tom were different from the other Jedi. He was attached to Tom. His Padawan was his friend. The two of them would remain close even after Tom graduated. 

No one would ever understand them. The relationship they had was unique. Harry and Tom were one of a kind. He was done denying the connection between them. 

Grinning, he bapped his Padawan with the kabob again. His heart swelled with affection, bursting as he saw Tom’s nose wrinkling in annoyance. 

A tight grip closed around Harry’s wrist. Tom pulled him closer, smirking. Slowly, he brought Harry’s hand towards his mouth, his lips parting. 

It was quiet as Tom bit into the kabob. His eyes locked onto Harry’s, dark. His throat shifted, flexing with each swallow. 

“You should have a piece, master,” Tom murmured, nudging the kabob towards Harry’s lips. The fish bumped against his mouth. Harry slowly parted his lips. His eyes widened. The kabob was delicious. 

A small noise left him. Pleased, he chewed on the soft piece of fish, enjoying its briny flavour. Tom watched him intensely as he ate. His eyes tracked the subtle movements of his throat.

It was as Harry finished his mouthful that Tom leaned in closer. His nose nudged against Harry’s before gliding across his cheek, slow and deliberate. His Padawan then slid downwards, downwards until Harry felt Tom’s breath on his chin. A warm kiss was placed by the corner of his lips. 

His Padawan inhaled sharply. “Got it,” he whispered, breathless. His shoulders violently twitched. “You had some sauce on your cheek.” 

Harry laughed. He ignored the odd sensation curling in his stomach. It fluttered about like an argora bird. He felt strangely off balance, flustered as he stood beside Tom. 

A flush rose into his cheeks. “You’ve always been so proper and clean,” he teased, his lips curling. “I’ve caught you flattening your robes with the Force more times than I could count.” 

A wistful sigh suddenly left Harry. “You used to bite your pencils when you were little. It was adorable. You had such small teeth,” his lips pursed. “I think that’s the one and only unkempt thing you’ve ever done.”

Harry reached up to touch his own face. His fingers drifted listlessly towards his lips, trembling. Wide-eyed, he brushed his thumb over where Tom had kissed him. “You better not start obsessing over what I wear. I’ll have you know that I’m plenty clean.”

Harry then glanced around at their surroundings. He could see the people of Naboo laughing with their loved ones, ecstatic as they danced about. He glanced back at Tom. “D’you think we’re blending in with the civilians?” 

Tom flashed him an inscrutable look. His eyes slowly lifted beyond Harry’s mused curls, above at an affectionate couple. 

The couple was giggling as they held onto one another, their smiles wide. Harry could feel their happiness through the Force, its bubbliness like a flute of champagne. 

His Padawan glanced down at him. His lips twitched into a smile. “I think we’ll be alright, master,” he purred. “We can continue to investigate the festival for spice traders. No one will suspect that we’re Jedi.” 

The pleased look on Tom’s face caused Harry to grin. Laughing, he ruffled Tom’s robes subtly with the Force. He then gave Tom a lighthearted push. Tom quickly shoved him back. 

The two of them then explored the rest of the festival. They danced through the cheerful, thick crowd of people, hand-in-hand. 

***

Harry hissed angrily as he ducked behind a boulder. He could hear the spice traders cursing violently, their heavy boots crunching along the ground. Sighing, he pressed closer to the boulder. 

It made sense that the spice traders would move their shipments during Naboo’s celebration. The security forces on the planet were already stretched thin. They had to manage the festivities and protect the dignitaries. There was no time to deal with slippery spice traders.

Harry glanced over at his Padawan. Tom had a determined look on his face. His eyes were dark as he readied his lightsaber. 

A sense of pride ignited within Harry’s chest. He knew that Tom could handle the battle on his own. His Padawan could capture the spice traders and bring security to Naboo. 

His lips tilted slightly downwards. He didn’t want Tom to defeat the spice traders. 

No, that wasn’t quite right—he did want Tom to succeed. He wanted his Padawan to accomplish amazing things. He wanted Tom to be acknowledged for his brilliance. It was time for Tom to graduate.

Harry flinched, eyes wide with dread. He curled closer to the boulder. It was an awful thought, the thought of Tom moving on. 

His eyelids fell shut. 

Harry knew that his anxiety was irrational. He had already accepted Tom as his friend. The relationship they had wouldn’t change—not upon Tom graduating. It would stay the same. He had no reason to worry. 

A Jedi should always be proud of their Padawan graduating. 

With one final, weary sigh, he opened his eyes. Startled, Harry recoiled—his body tensing on instinct. Tom was staring at him. His eyes were fixated on Harry, burning.  

A strange smile then lit up Tom’s face. He leaned in close to Harry, whispering, “Are you alright, master?” 

Harry ignored him. He rolled his shoulders, shrugging loosely. He listened to the angry hissing of the spice traders. 

Slowly, his thoughts calmed, and he turned to Tom with a bright, eager grin. He beamed purposefully at him. 

Then, as Tom’s face relaxed into one of contentment, his eyes half-lidded, Harry leapt to his feet. He leapt onto the boulder, his lightsaber flaring to life. He quickly blocked an incoming bolt from a blaster. 

His grip on his lightsaber was loose. He sent the blasts ricocheting towards the spice traders. He grinned as the spice traders were forced to dodge their own blasts. 

The Force around him felt alive as he fought. It surged triumphantly through his blood. He laughed freely, excited as he continued to deflect the blasts of light. 

Concentrating, he focused on the Force, on lifting a crate and launching it at the spice traders. The crate crashed into three of the men. It splintered apart and sent them sprawling into the mud, stunned. 

Harry laughed again. His eyes brightened as he swung his lightsaber. He could see a bolt of light careening towards him. His feet shifted slightly. He’d have no problem deflecting that blast.

It was as Harry prepared to swing that an arm wrapped around his waist. It pulled him sharply behind the boulder. Harry gasped as he collapsed into the dirt. His gaze swiveled towards Tom, blazing, “What are you doing—” his voice trailed off. 

Tom looked almost wild. His eyes were burning dangerously. A fervency Harry had never seen before had etched itself across his face. Tom lunged towards Harry, his hands scrambling across his chest, desperate. 

“You were dead!” Tom shouted. His pupils contracted viciously. “The blast killed you! It struck you in the head!”

Harry stared at Tom incredulously. 

“You had no light in your eyes. You were still, motionless on the ground,” Tom choked. “You were dead.”

Harry’s eyes softened with concern. He slid closer to his Padawan. He touched Tom’s chin, his fingers light. “I’m alright, Tom,” he murmured. His voice rose with encouragement. “You’re alright. We’re both alright.”

Tom let out a terrified whimper. The sound shocked Harry. He had never expected to hear such a vulnerable sound from Tom . It wasn’t like Tom for him to get scared. 

Harry grimaced. He stroked Tom’s cheek reassuringly. He tilted his Padawan’s face to meet his gaze. “You didn’t see anything, Tom,” he whispered. “I’m alright. I won’t be leaving you anytime soon.” 

His words caused an upsurge of rage within Tom. He felt his wrath spilling through the Force. It clogged the air around them with an insidious darkness. It soured everything. 

Tom stared at Harry. His lips thinned. He lurched to his feet, his lightsaber crackling. 

Tom redirected the first searing blast straight through a man’s head. 

***

He could hear a frog and its deep, guttural croaking. The sky above him was dark and speckled with silvery stars. Shivering, he waded further into the lake, the water sliding to his knees. His robes dragged alongside him, drenched. 

The lake was black, its shadowy depths reflecting the night sky. 

Harry glanced back at Tom. His Padawan was on the shore of the lake. He had an unnatural stillness to him. His jaw was tight with anger. 

Harry bit down on his lip. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Tom?” he shouted. “You should join me in the water. It’ll be fun.”

Tom remained unbearably still. He glared as he surveyed the surrounding forest. 

It was as though he believed that an unseen threat would emerge from the trees. The spice traders would return and mercilessly slaughter Harry. 

Harry let out an exhausted sigh. His eyes searched Tom’s face. 

He didn’t know how to properly comfort Tom. 

He could feel his Padawan’s paranoia building through the Force. It was magnetic, overwhelming. It drew Harry in against his will, a misery that clung to him. 

Harry shuddered, his breath hitching. He gazed across the water at Tom. 

It wasn’t the first time that Tom had killed someone. 

The Jedi were allowed to kill those who threatened the balance of the Force. A Jedi couldn’t kill an unarmed enemy. That was the rule they abided by. 

The spice traders had been armed with various weapons. Through his actions, Tom hadn’t broken the Jedi Code. Instead, he had abided by its principles and won the fight, bringing security to Naboo. 

It was still disturbing.

It was unsettling to watch Tom kill someone. He didn’t want to see the Padawan he raised hurting someone. The boy he cared for transformed into a soldier. 

The Jedi were always meant to be protectors, not soldiers. It was a sentiment that Dumbledore had always held, a sentiment he had whispered to Harry. 

Tom had killed a few of the slave traders on Zygerria. 

Harry shifted nervously in place. But Tom was abiding by the Jedi Code. He couldn’t find fault in Tom when he hadn’t actually broken the rules. It wouldn’t be fair. 

Besides, the Jedi Code no longer applied to them, not really. 

The two of them were inexplicably attached to one another. He had acknowledged Tom as his friend. The two of them had already gone against the Jedi Code. 

He now had a responsibility to comfort Tom. 

With another weak, tired sigh, Harry waded through the water. He approached Tom as quietly as he could. “I can take care of myself, Tom,” he said lightly. “You don’t need to stand guard on the shore. We should have some fun before returning to Coruscant. We should swim together.” 

“You were dead.” Tom’s words came out flat. His throat flexed as an involuntary croak left his lips. His eyes were brightening with a familiar panic. “You were definitely dead—”

“—I have no plans on dying,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll always be with you. You’ll never be alone, Tom.” The words felt wrong—deceitful as soon as Harry said them. But before he could even consider taking them back, the Force twinkled with an unexpected light. 

A hesitant smile twitched across Tom’s face. His cheeks flooded with colour. In one swift, sudden movement, he charged towards Harry. 

The world around Harry spun as Tom hurled them both into the lake. The flailing of their limbs kicked up clouds of sand, swirling visibly—thickly—in the shallow water. 

Harry gasped. Thick drops of water fell from his eyelashes, trembling. His robes clung to him wetly. His mind reeled as he glanced up at Tom. 

His Padawan was looming over him. He stared down at Harry, intense. A wet strand of hair clung to his forehead, dripping. 

Harry blinked lazily. The urge to play with the loose curl came to him unbidden. He wanted to tug on the strand and watch as Tom’s cheeks pinkened. 

Startled, he jerked backwards. He shoved the strange thought out of his mind. He had to focus on what was in front of him. He had to focus on comforting his Padawan. 

Harry reached up to touch Tom’s face. His cheek was slightly coarse, the warm, smoky scent of his aftershave swirling around him. It was an intoxicating scent. It was dizzying. His Padawan was nearly an adult. The thought caused Harry to squirm. 

Tom leaned in slightly closer, his lips curling into a relaxed smile. A warm breath ghosted along Harry’s flesh. The slight touch tickled. 

Tom let out a soft, low chuckle. “You’ll never be alone either, master,” he purred. He slid his nose across Harry’s cheek. “You’ll stay beside me. Always, won’t you?” he murmured, their noses brushing together. 

The pleased gleam in Tom’s eyes had him shivering. The desire to make Tom feel as good as Harry felt rose within him. 

The warmth in his chest climaxed. “You’re such a good friend to me,” he whispered, smiling. 

His heart stuttered at the empty look on Tom’s face. 

The lake became quiet, still as Tom stared at him. His face was eerily blank. 

Tom then suddenly smirked. His Padawan shifted towards his ear, his lips brushing along the sensitive skin. He hummed softly, crooning, “You’re such a good friend to me.” 

Harry’s cheeks swelled with heat. 

In one angry, quick movement, Harry shoved Tom hard in the chest. He imbued his touch with the Force, sending Tom sprawling off his body. Harry quickly rose to his feet. “You’re mocking me—”

Tom grinned at him cheekily. “I’d never mock you, master,” he teased. “I’d be too terrified to mock you. I’ve seen what you can do.”

An unimpressed snort left Harry’s lips. Concentrating, he lifted a ball of water into the air, contorting its shape with the Force. He then sent the sphere flying towards his Padawan. 

The water met its target with a resounding splash. Tom let out an enraged yowl. 

Laughing, he levitated three more balls of water. He gave Tom an amused smirk. “You should practice your dodging.”

The sound of mirthful splashing then filled the serene lakeside. 

***

His sheets felt cool and pristine, gliding silkily along his flesh. Frustrated, he squirmed in his bed. He couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was unbearably awake. 

He buried his face into his pillow, groaning. Well, he could sneak out of the Jedi Temple. 

He could take one of the speeders for a joyride. It’d be nice to fly through the city. He’d be able to admire Coruscant and its endless, glittering lights. 

With an exhausted yawn, Harry slipped out of his bed—wincing as his feet touched the bitingly cold floor. His accommodations in the Jedi Temple were decent. Harry had his own bedroom and an attached kitchen. It was a simple, plain space that he adored. 

He sleepily made his way across his room. 

It was as he shuffled slowly that he heard a restless knock. Confused, he turned towards his door.  The sound was frantic—infused with panic. The person at his front entrance was terrified. 

Concerned, he made his way over to his door. He opened his entryway quickly. 

It was Tom. His Padawan was standing in his doorway, horrified as he stared at Harry. “You’re alive, master,” he croaked. 

Tom looked awful.  

His face was flushed an unnatural red. His hair was disheveled, tousled as though he had been pulling on his strands, yanking viciously. His voice sounded utterly wrecked.

The same dread from before spasmed in Harry’s chest. 

He couldn’t stand to see Tom in pain. His Padawan was meant to be overly confident and arrogant. He wasn’t supposed to look so small, so scared.

Harry bit back a low, pained noise. 

Tom’s shoulders slumped with relief. 

“You’re alive.”

Teary-eyed, he lunged towards Harry, his arms wrapping around him in a vice-like grip. A fervent whine left Tom’s lips. “You’re alive.”

“You’re alright, Tom,” Harry replied, his voice a gentle murmur. He ignored the pain mounting in his chest. “Nothing has happened to me. We’ll always be safe at the Jedi Temple. You have no reason to be afraid.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Tom. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Tom reared backwards from him, hissing, “It wasn’t a nightmare! It was too real. I saw you—I saw you falling! You were flying through Coruscant on a speeder, and then—well, you… fell.”

A glass on Harry's counter shattered. 

The Force was swirling around Tom in a vile, dark stream. He could feel Tom’s despair. It was spiraling into a shadowy, insurmountable mass. 

Harry held onto Tom tighter. “What you saw wasn’t a vision. It was a nightmare, an illusion. The Force is not going to take me from you. We’ll have many more years together.”

It was the only sane, rational explanation. Tom must’ve had a nightmare about Harry. Harry couldn’t accept anything else as the truth. He couldn't accept that Tom had seen a vision of him actually dying. 

Yet, as Harry tucked his face under Tom’s chin, murmuring restless reassurances, he thought of what Tom had described to him. His Padawan had seen him dying while flying a speeder. Harry had been about to take one out for a joyride. His nightmare aligned too close with reality to merely be a nightmare. 

Tom had always been a powerful Force wielder as well. It wouldn’t surprise Harry if he had begun to receive visions of the future. It was an ability that was not unheard of. 

Tom’s presence in the Force suddenly shifted. He eyed Harry with a newfound intensity. 

“You’re lying to me,” he whispered. Tom’s eyes darkened. “You don’t believe what you’re saying. You’re aware that these are visions, not nightmares.” 

Harry held back a wince. He glanced down at the floor purposefully to avoid Tom’s gaze. “You shouldn’t be afraid of my death, Tom,” he offered weakly. “I didn’t die on Naboo. I won’t die while on Coruscant.” 

He thought of the council and their many wise words. He thought of the Jedi Code. Nervous, he whispered, “Death is a natural part of life. We should rejoice for the Jedi who transform into the Force. We shouldn’t mourn or miss them.”

Tom inhaled sharply, his pupils contracting. Furious, he sneered, “You’re parroting their words. You’re echoing the council! You’re not saying what you truly believe!” 

A flicker of fear suddenly entered Tom’s eyes. “You can’t actually believe that I’d let you go.” 

He could hear Tom’s breathing quickening. His breaths were coming out as short, shallow puffs.

Harry felt his heart stutter. He gathered Tom close to him, holding him in his arms. “You need to focus on your breathing. We should meditate on the floor, Tom,” he suggested. 

His words caused Tom’s panic to still. Tom blinked at him, stunned. “You’re suggesting that we should meditate. You hate mediation.” 

A blush rose into Harry’s cheeks. “Well, that’s not exactly true! I’d say that I, uh, struggle with meditation. There’s no reason for me to hate mediation, though. It’d be wrong for me as a Jedi to hate anything…” he trailed off. 

Tom arched his eyebrow at him. 

The two of them then descended into breathless laughter. 

It was as their laughter quieted that an uncertain look came upon Tom’s face. He nervously wetted his lips. “Would it be alright if I stayed the night?” 

Harry blinked, eyes heavy with confusion. “Why would you need to stay the night?”

The blush on Tom’s face reddened. He coughed into his sleeve, shifting nervously. He glanced down, mumbling, “It’d be nice to be close to you, master.” Tom straightened his posture as he gained more confidence. “You’ll be safe beside me, master. I’ll be able to watch over you.” 

He supposed that made sense. It made sense that his Padawan would want to watch over him. Tom had always been protective of him. 

Besides, Harry couldn’t deny Tom his company—not when Tom was afraid that he was going to die. It’d be cruel to send Tom back to his room, alone. 

Harry smiled at his Padawan. “Let's go to my bedroom, Tom.” 

The blush on Tom’s face flared. He nodded stiffly. 

Harry crawled onto his bed, tired. He tucked himself beneath his sheets, sighing as the familiar warmth enveloped him. 

A small smile twitched across Harry’s face. He had never seen Tom so rigid before—so uptight and stiff.  

Tom stood at the foot of his bed, wide-eyed. His blush had begun to invade his ears, transforming them into soft, pink slices of watermelon. 

Harry gestured towards the bed. “You can’t sleep with me from all the way over there, Tom,” he laughed, his smile widening. His eyes brightened eagerly. 

An almost pained noise then left Tom’s lips. He shuffled in place, trembling. 

A wicked gleam quickly entered Harry’s eyes. His lips curved as he teasingly hissed, “I know how much you value your beauty sleep. You’ll want to look your absolute best, primed up and well-rested.” 

The nervousness on Tom’s face remained, plastered almost painfully. Slowly, the smile on Harry’s face softened. He stared at Tom, his eyes alight with concern. His voice lowered as he murmured, “You should get some rest. Really, Tom.” 

The mattress dipped as Tom crawled onto the bed. His eyes were dark, bottomless. His gaze seared into Harry’s as he crept closer. Harry held back a startled breath. 

The world was silent as Tom shifted on top of Harry. The stars blared brightly as Harry kissed the top of Tom’s head, his lips lingering. The universe felt right and true as Tom settled down, his head resting on Harry’s chest. 

The sight of Tom on top of him was almost humorous. His Padawan was significantly larger than him. It felt as though he had a saber cat resting on his chest. The weight of Tom was all but crushing. 

His Padawan let out a breathless noise. The breath tickled him, teasing as Tom pressed his face impossibly closer. He was practically purring against Harry’s chest. 

Tom stared up at him sleepily, smiling softly. Harry smiled back down at him. Pleased, he reached for his Padawan’s hand. 

He felt as Tom’s fingers intertwined with his own. He squeezed Tom back reassuringly, his insides warm. 

Harry quickly drifted off to sleep. His hand remained in Tom’s grasp, held tenderly and earnestly throughout the night. 

***

He felt calm and at peace as he strolled through the Jedi Temple Library. A few warm rays of sunlight were trickling inside the ancient building. The sunlight pooled onto the floor in puddles of orange and yellow. 

He could hear various younglings whispering to one another. The children were excited, eagerly pointing to their holobooks and marveling at the content within them. 

Harry held back an amused smile. He was certain that the younglings would grow into dedicated and brilliant Padawans. He could remember Tom and his studious ways. He had to drag Tom out of the library on more than one occasion. His Padawan had complained viciously, huffing as he was separated from his precious holobooks.

Laughing softly, Harry made his way across the library, his footsteps light. A surge of excitement then swept through him as he spotted his Padawan. Tom was striding through the library in confident, measured steps. His face was determined as he weaved through the winding shelves. 

Harry snorted, his lips twisting. His Padawan was such a swot. He’d spend all his time in the Archives if he could. He’d probably request Harry’s presence as well, forcing the two of them to live in an old library for the rest of their lives. 

With an excited smile, Harry sneakily followed his Padawan, several paces behind. He’d surprise Tom with his presence and drag him out of the library. He’d force him into the courtyard for some much needed sunlight. 

Yet, as he trailed behind Tom with eager steps, he couldn’t help but notice the direction he was heading in.  

A frown flitted across Harry’s face. 

It almost seemed like Tom was heading towards the Holocron Vault. His eyes narrowed as he crept slightly faster. Only members of the Jedi Council were allowed to access the Holocron Vault. Tom had no reason to head towards that particular section of the library. 

He couldn’t imagine the forbidden tomes locked inside that vault, the knowledge. It held holocrons that were hidden for a reason. Harry felt as his stomach twisted with concern. He didn’t know what his Padawan was doing. 

Cursing under his breath, Harry trailed behind his Padawan, silent. It wasn’t until Tom disappeared behind a particularly large bookshelf that Harry lost sight of him. Tom had vanished completely. 

Harry buried his face into his hands, groaning. He really hoped that Tom wasn't sneaking into the Holocron Vault. The holocrons contained forbidden knowledge that only the council could be trusted in knowing. 

His hands trembled, twitching as he took in a deep breath. 

The Holocron Vault contained numerous lasers and alarms that would activate in the case of a breach. He had no reason to believe that Tom would break into the Holocron Vault or that he’d be successful. 

He had no reason to be so paranoid. 

A heavy wave of guilt was steadily rising in his chest. His bones felt as though they were made of lead. Moaning, he collapsed into a nearby armchair, exhausted. 

He shouldn’t be so distrustful of Tom. 

It was wrong for Harry to assume the worst of him. Tom was a loyal and steadfast Padawan. He wouldn’t betray Harry or the Jedi Council. 

Harry was a failure of a master.

He couldn’t provide Tom with anything worthwhile. He couldn’t even maintain a steady and calm mind. Harry jumped to rash conclusions without thinking. He doubted his Padawan and his actions. 

Harry slouched deeper into his chair. The guilt was crushing him in slow, unrelenting waves. 

He didn’t know how long he sat in that chair, his eyes unfocused, until Tom appeared. 

A pair of warm arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. A sharp breath brushed the back of his neck. “What’re you doing here, master?” Tom whispered into his ear. “You’re in the library. You almost never go to the library.” 

The arms around Harry tightened. A nose slid gently across his ear. 

Wide-eyed, Harry struggled in Tom’s embrace, hissing, “We’re in public, Tom! You shouldn’t be so affectionate!” He whipped towards his Padawan, glaring. He could sense his frustration bleeding into the Force. His guilt was tainting everything around him. 

Tom’s head tilted slowly to one side. The curious gleam in his eyes darkened into an intense, dangerous shadow. “You’re upset. Who or what made you upset?”

A sense of incredulity dawned over Harry. He shook his head jerkily. “You’re ridiculous. There is nothing for you to defeat, Tom. I made myself miserable.”

“You’re not allowed to be miserable,” Tom replied sharply, his eyes narrowed. 

It was such a ridiculous statement that Harry couldn’t help but snort. He shook his head again. “There’ll always be something that will be able to upset me. We’ll never live in a perfect universe,” his voice lowered into a soft hush. He leaned towards his Padawan. “What’d you do today, Tom?”

The darkness surrounding Tom vanished, and a wide grin appeared on his face. “I accomplished a great deal of research. Of course, it wasn’t easy,” he said, his voice coated with pride. “But it was worth it."

Harry smiled softly, murmuring, “I’m glad.”

He would trust his Padawan and the things that he told him. He wouldn’t make any more unfounded assumptions. He’d believe and trust Tom.

It was what his Padawan had earned.

The two of them then left the library beside one another. Harry listened to Tom’s mischievous whispering, his pointed remarks, and failed to restrain his laughter. Tom’s eyes gleamed as he invoked more and more laughter from Harry. 

All was well. 

***

He could hear the whirring of the spaceship, its machinery crackling with electricity. It was a comforting sound. It told him that the spaceship was functioning properly. 

Pleased, he pressed close to his pillow. His mind was heavy with sleep as he stirred. He could feel the warmth of Tom’s body on top of him. 

His eyebrows curved together, furrowing in confusion. He could hear something other than the spaceship. He could hear panicked breathing, the rough intake of multiple, quick breaths. 

Harry opened his eyes. 

It was Tom. His Padawan was on top of him, his expression terrified. His eyes kept flickering about as though he thought Harry might vanish. His breaths were hot and uneven. 

A sad, defeated noise left Harry’s lips. He reached up towards Tom to touch his face. “Did you have another nightmare?” he whispered. 

It was the only explanation for his Padawan’s behaviour. 

Tom slowly nodded. His eyes were pained as he collapsed onto Harry. He buried his face into Harry’s curls. He wrapped his arms around him protectively. “You’ll die on Bespin. You’ll fall off a tower. You won’t be able to use the Force to slow your descent.” 

Harry couldn’t imagine falling to his death. He had always enjoyed the freedom that came with flying. He enjoyed speeding dangerously. 

It’d be strange to die while doing what he had always loved. 

“Your nightmares aren’t real, Tom,” he said gently. “Not one of those dreams has come true. You don’t have to let them hold power over you.” 

“We’re not going to Bespin.”

The words were said firmly. Harry could hear Tom gritting his teeth. His grip around Harry was tightening, coiling like a snake. “You’ll stay here in our bed, master. I will turn the ship around and return us to Coruscant.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. He writhed against Tom’s crushing weight, hissing, “The people of Bespin need our help! The whole planet is depending on us! We cannot—”

“—The people of Bespin will be fine!” His Padawan snapped angrily, his voice rising. “I’m certain the planet will find an adequate solution without our help.” The sneer on his face was cruel. It distorted his features, marring the goodness Harry knew Tom had within him. 

His heart panged with sorrow. Then, as his chest gave a miserable, desperate throb, his grief hardened into anger. A fierce glower settled across Harry’s features. 

“You have no right to decide anything, Tom. I’m your master. You do not get to choose which planets we go to. We’re going to Bespin.” 

His Padawan inhaled sharply. He could see an insidious anger building in Tom’s eyes. He was furious. “You have no reason to throw your life away! There will never be a reason to justify it,” his voice lowered into a violent whisper. “The people of Bespin will suffer if you die on their world.” 

“You need to accept death as a natural part of life. You will never truly lose me. I will transform into the Force and become one with its energy. That is what will happen when I die. No one can prevent or slow death.” 

Tom let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m certain that is what the council believes. To become one with the Cosmic Force is a great honour. It is an aspiration that all Jedi should meet. You've memorized their dogma perfectly.”

Tom’s voice was purposeful as he whispered, “You will not die, Harry. You will never die while I’m alive.” With cold determination in his eyes, Tom released Harry and rose from their bed. His footsteps echoed loudly. 

“Tom?” Harry called out, his voice gentle. His Padawan paused. “Don’t threaten the people of Bespin again. You will not like where that lands you.”

The atmosphere in the spaceship remained tense for the rest of their journey. 

***

Bespin was alive with fire as multiple blaster bolts tore through the air. His lightsaber flashed in rapid blurs of green, deflecting the incoming blasts. 

His Padawan was beside him. Tom kept shifting protectively in front of Harry, blocking the blasts with his own lightsaber. It was as though he thought that the first quick blast would down Harry effortlessly. 

Harry held back an annoyed scoff. It was infuriating that Tom thought that he needed protection. Harry was the one who had trained Tom. He didn’t need Tom hovering around him like a garu-bear. 

The fight continued on for a few more minutes, the sound of their battle piercingly loud. Harry’s eyes widened as he spotted their target. The ugnaught had just moved onto the battlefield. Harry and Tom had orders to bring the target to Coruscant alive. 

A thrill of excitement rushed through Harry. He frantically gestured towards the ugnaught with his head. Tom inclined his head in response. 

The two of them then fought their way closer to their target. The Force noticeably darkened as soon as they were within several feet of the ugnaught. 

The maroon in Tom’s eyes flared dangerously bright.

The ugnaught lifted into the air, kicking uselessly, as he was suspended by the Force. Harry then glanced away for one mere moment. He deflected a blast that came from his left side, focusing on defending himself from the sudden attack. 

When his attention returned to their target, Harry found that the ugnaught was gone. 

It took Harry several moments for him to process what had happened. Tom had flung the man over the side of the building. 

“W-We were supposed to capture him, Tom!” Harry hissed, horrified. He stared in disbelief at his Padawan. “What is wrong with you? Why would you—”

“—He had a weapon. He was an armed assailant that was going to attack you. You missed the flashing of his weapon when you glanced away. The Jedi Code has not been broken or disregarded.”

The speech sounded rehearsed. Tom spoke carelessly as though he had done nothing wrong. It boggled Harry’s mind, drowning him. He couldn’t think clearly. 

“You shouldn’t have killed him,” he croaked. His voice sounded weak. “You could’ve just as easily disarmed him.”

Tom shook his head. A smug smile stretched across his face. “It was the only solution. You would’ve died in every other scenario.” 

Chuckling, Tom leaned towards Harry, his lips warm, as he pressed an affectionate kiss to Harry’s forehead. “You’ll always be safe with me, master,” he crooned. His eyes were alight with happiness. 

Harry could only stare in horror. 

***

The world was quiet as Harry stood outside the Jedi Council Chamber. He couldn’t hear anything except for his own breathing. His veins were full of anxiety as he moved his leg up and down. 

A hand fell onto his shoulder. It gripped him, steadying his nerves. 

“You haven’t disappointed the Jedi Council in years, master,” Tom said reassuringly. “One failure is not enough to discount you. You’ve served them diligently. The council will understand that his death was unavoidable.” 

Harry shuddered as Tom leaned in close, his breath warm. Conflicted, he whispered, “You need to leave, Tom. I’ll deal with the Jedi Council alone. You can go to the library by yourself.”

Tom’s eyebrows pinched slightly together, drawing in confusion. “You’re upset with me,” he murmured, his head tilting. “Why? All that matters is that I follow the Jedi Code. You shouldn't be upset with me for following your teachings.”

His Padawan was right. It was not against the Jedi Code to kill someone in combat. The Jedi killed criminals all the time. 

Harry buried his face into his hands, his eyelids flickering shut. He let out a desperate groan. 

He didn't want Tom to become a murderer. He wanted his Padawan and his soul to remain untainted. 

Nervous, he glanced up at his Padawan, peering through his fingers. A slight flush was stirring in Harry’s cheeks. “It is important to believe in more than just the Jedi Code. You should have your own values.”

Tom’s head tilted even further to the left. “You’re the values I follow, though,” he said softly, his eyes crinkling. A soft murmur of confusion left him as he shifted even closer. 

His cheeks felt near feverish as he registered Tom’s words. He glanced away from his Padawan, his insides fluttering. “T-The council will summon me any minute now. You should leave.” 

Tom smiled down at him. “Alright, master,” he acquiesced. A new light then entered his eyes. He spoke slowly, purring, “I’ll see you in your bedroom tonight.

Annoyed, Harry poked his Padawan with the Force. He pushed Tom down the hallway. 

His mind was in shambles as he entered the Jedi Council Chamber. He couldn’t tell which direction was left and which was right. His perception of Tom was in constant flux. 

The explanation he offered the Jedi Council mirrored his disoriented mind. 

He received an admonishing lecture. 

***

Harry was worried about Tom. He hadn’t seen his Padawan in almost two days. Tom never avoided him. His Padawan stuck to his side like an ewok. Harry was certain that something had to be wrong. 

Agitated, he walked quickly through the Jedi Temple. His footsteps were heavy as he marched towards Tom’s bedroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone two days without Tom beside him. 

He knocked frantically on Tom’s bedroom door. “Tom?” he called out, his voice worried. “Are you alright?” 

The hallway remained silent. 

He couldn’t hear anything inside Tom’s flat. It was deathly silent. 

Harry bit down on his lip. He focused on the Force, contorting its energy to unlock Tom’s door. The door opened with an eerie creak. He quickly entered the flat, searching for his Padawan. 

Harry’s heart stuttered as he found Tom prone in his bed. His entire body was flushed an overheated, burning pink. His eyes were hazy, dazed as he glanced at Harry. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. It dampened his curls and caused them to cling stickily to his flesh. 

A small smile lit up Tom’s face. His voice sounded weak as he whispered, “I knew you’d find me. I knew you’d always seek me out.” 

Harry crawled onto the bed. Wide-eyed, he shuffled towards Tom. He placed his hand on his Padawan’s forehead. 

An immediate warmth rushed towards his palm, tingling across his flesh in steady pulses. 

“You’re feverish, Tom,” he gasped. His hand slid down to cup his Padawan’s cheek. “You’re far too warm. You need to rest properly in your bed.”

A strange look came upon Tom’s face. He glanced away, nervous. His cheeks darkened. “Will you stay with me?” 

Harry blinked owlishly. His lips parted with open surprise, spilling, “Of course, I’ll stay with you! You're my Padawan. I’ll always take care of you.” 

It would be the right thing to do. His Padawan had been the one to take care of him on Zygerria. He now had an opportunity to repay Tom. He could remain beside Tom, ensuring that his every need was met. He’d keep him cool and well-fed. 

He’d always protect Tom, his Padawan. He’d never leave him alone and without care. 

An amused spark then entered Harry’s eyes. He scooted close to Tom. “D’you know what made you sick?” he asked teasingly. “Did you use the wrong shampoo? Did you miss a step in your skincare routine?” 

Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry. Scoffing, he poked him in the forehead, pushing him back slightly. “You’d take advantage of me while I’m weak?” he asked, his lips tilting. “I never thought you’d have that in you.”

His playful expression then became more serious. “I haven’t been able to sleep,” he said, wetting his lips. “The visions are near constant now.” His eyes became clouded, shifting into a distant stare. “I’m certain the stress is what caused this fever.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized that the nightmares were so intense. The realization caused his stomach to writhe, twisting with remorse. He shifted uncomfortably. 

He inched closer, sliding his hand towards Tom’s. Their fingers intertwined, and he gave Tom a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Your visions will never come true,” he whispered. “We’ll grow old together and retire in the Jedi Temple. We’ll meditate and study in the library. Though, you already have a habit of doing that. You’re such an old man, Tom.” 

Tom grunted in disagreement, his eyes narrowing. A bead of sweat slid slowly down his forehead. Harry brushed the small drop with his thumb, smearing its wet shine. 

“I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he murmured. He pressed his forehead against Tom’s, watching as his Padawan’s pupils dilated. Harry’s heart began to beat quickly, rising in response to Tom’s expression. 

The bedroom was silent as Harry remained beside Tom. 

***

The cloth was wet and cold, dripping as he placed it on Tom’s forehead. He held his Padawan’s hand as Tom made low, incoherent noises. 

He smiled down at him. “You’ll be alright, Tom,” he whispered. “You’ll conquer your fever. You’re capable of conquering anything in your path. I know you are.” 

He pressed his lips to Tom’s hair. His curls were slick and heavy with moisture, damp as he sweated out his fever. Harry pressed another kiss to the top of Tom’s head. 

“You’ll have an appointment with Snape after you’ve healed. He can teach you about meditation and the mind better than I ever could. You’ll no longer be plagued by nightmares.” 

Trembling, he inhaled sharply. He could smell Tom all around him. The smell clung to the pillows and the sheets. It caused Harry’s head to swim in a confusing pool of warmth. 

Blushing, he curled even closer to Tom. The two of them would be alright. Tom would learn to control his nightmares, and he would recover fully from his fever. 

Harry and Tom would continue to explore the galaxy—embarking on endless missions. 

The two of them would stay together.

***

“You want me to complete the mission alone?” he asked, his voice sharp. His eyes darted between the various masters on the council. 

Snape flashed him an annoyed glance. “Did you lose your hearing? There is no reason for your Padawan to accompany you to Florrum. He is useless in his current state.”

Harry gritted his teeth. He took in a calming, deep breath. “I understand that Tom cannot accompany me to Florrum. I thought you’d choose to wait until he is healed to assign either of us a mission.”

“You made an assumption that was incorrect then,” Snape drawled. “You will depart for Florrum immediately.” 

Harry glanced beseechingly at the other masters on the council. The smile on Dumbledore’s face was kind and sympathetic. But he said nothing in Harry’s favour. 

“Alright, I’ll travel to Florrum alone.” 

His words came out cold and distant. 

He dipped his head in acknowledgement then left the Jedi Council Chamber. 

He would have a long journey ahead of him. 

***

His mind was conflicted as he trekked across the flight line. His anger towards the Jedi Council was building, scorching dangerously in his chest. An irritated growl escaped past his teeth. 

He activated the spaceship’s boarding ramp. 

He wanted to take care of Tom. He didn’t want to travel to Florrum alone. The planet was an arid, sweltering desert that served as an isolated haven for criminals. He let out an annoyed sigh. 

But there were innocent people on Florrum too. 

Harry was a Jedi, an impartial keeper of the peace. He had an obligation to travel to Florrum. He had an obligation to restrain his attachment to Tom.

Sighing, he absently combed his fingers through his curls. He took another step towards the spaceship. 

A loud cry then halted his movements. 

The noise came from Tom. His Padawan was stumbling towards him, his skin flushed an unnatural pink. He was still covered in thick layers of sweat, drenched as he approached Harry. 

“You’re supposed to be in bed, Tom!” he admonished, horrified. His blood was starting to rush through his veins, spiralling wildly. 

Tom was going to get himself hurt. He shouldn't be out of his bed.

The very thought caused Harry to wince. He shifted restlessly, fidgeting with discomfort.

“You’re not going to Florrum.”

The words were spoken harshly. It was the same words that Tom had said on their journey to Bespin. 

Tom had a wild gleam in his eyes. His lips were parted as he panted heavily. His fever-induced state had worsened, clearly intensifying. The Force was darkening around him. 

“You’ll die alone on Florrum,” he snarled, his voice low. Tom took another step towards him. 

He reached towards Harry warily, carefully as though he was a startled animal. “You’ll place yourself needlessly in danger. You need to stay with me. You need to stay on Coruscant.” 

Harry reached towards his Padawan. He lovingly grabbed Tom’s hands. He stroked his thumb across the back of Tom’s hand, rubbing the warm, clammy skin. 

“The council gave me a direct order, Tom,” he whispered. A tentative smile tugged at his lips. He only hoped it looked more genuine than it felt. “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll help the people of Florrum and come back to you quickly.” 

The despair on Tom’s face was palpable. His eyes darted across Harry’s face, searching for an easy path, one he could take that would lead to his success. 

“We should go to your bedroom,” Tom implored, his voice desperate. “We’ll sleep in your bed. We can discuss our future in the morning, master,” his voice lilted with an unusual confidence. “You’ve always wanted to visit the Abrion sector, right?”

Harry remained silent. His eyes slid down to the ground. 

Tom tugged on Harry’s hand. He pressed close to him, whispering, “Stay.” 

His touch was warm and gentle. The warmth seeped into Harry. It sent soft, tingling shivers down his spine. He leaned towards Tom, his eyelids flickering.

No.

In one slow, reluctant movement, he backed away from Tom. He stared at his Padawan regretfully. 

He couldn’t throw his entire life away.  

He couldn’t abandon the Jedi Order. 

(An amazed gasp left him as he ignited his lightsaber. A gentle green emitted from the lightsaber, casting the world in an earthy light. 

Harry gently moved his weapon through the air. It was perfect. 

A hand fell onto his shoulder. It squeezed him reassuringly. 

Wide-eyed, he glanced up at his master. Dumbledore had a brilliantly bright expression, his eyes twinkling.

“It suits you perfectly, my boy,” he exclaimed, his voice jovial. “You’ll make for a fine Jedi.”

Harry straightened with pride. He would never let his master down. 

He would become a great Jedi.)

He’d be expelled from the Jedi Order if he disobeyed the council. He’d be cast out of the temple. He’d have no home to return to—no way of life. 

He didn’t know what he’d do without the Jedi Order. He’d be alone. 

A quiet, hurt noise left Tom’s lips. His Padawan gazed at him imploringly. 

No, he wouldn’t be alone. He’d have Tom beside him. 

Harry trembled as he hastily took another step back. He couldn’t stay on Coruscant. He had an obligation to fulfill. There was a planet in need of protection. 

It’d be wrong to choose Tom over an entire planet. 

A trembling, weak breath left him. He couldn’t choose Tom, not when it’d mean losing everything else. 

His lips moved listlessly as he murmured, “I’ll see you soon. I promise I won’t be very long.” 

Tom’s eyes were cold as he stared at Harry. After several painful moments, Tom inclined his head. “I’ll see you again.” 

The two of them parted ways. 

***

The sun felt unbearably hot upon his neck. It caused beads of sweat to form on his flesh. 

Panting, he swiped uselessly at his forehead. 

The planet was arid and harsh as he roamed across its surface. He felt as though he would melt like a popsicle. 

The mission was slow, quiet as he took his time in completing his tasks. He had undertaken the goal of behaving like his Padawan. He wouldn’t rush into danger. He’d consider all his options before proceeding in any direction. 

He refused to traumatize Tom. He’d avoid his death by acting nothing like himself. 

He let out an uneven, weary exhale. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground. 

The sand felt hot beneath his feet. It seared through the soles of his boots. It warmed his flesh in rippling waves. 

He’d take his time and return to Tom alive.

That was what mattered. 

***

The Jedi Temple was quiet when he returned to Coruscant. 

He half-expected to find Tom waiting for him, standing by the flight line. He thought his Padawan would rush into his arms. 

Instead, he stepped off the boarding ramp alone. 

The nighttime air was cool, brisk, and refreshing after his time spent on Florrum. He couldn’t see the stars twinkling above him. They were blocked by the city lights. 

He went to Tom’s bedroom. 

To his mounting confusion, he found that Tom’s entrance was unlocked. He could stroll straight inside his Padawan’s flat. 

He soon discovered that Tom wasn’t in his bedroom either.

He let out a tired sigh. Tom was still mad at him. His Padawan was avoiding him because of their argument. It was the only explanation that made sense. 

But he wanted to talk things through. 

Concerned, he focused on his connection with the Force, sensing the life forms that were nearby. He could feel the various Jedi around him, their signatures in the Force. But he couldn’t sense Tom.

His eyebrows pinched together. 

His Padawan wasn’t here. 

Fear settled over him. It sank deep into his bones. It clouded his mind in a thick, choking fog. It spilled inside his heart. 

He could barely recall what happened next. He ran through the Jedi Temple and its silent hallways. His feet pounded relentlessly. He called out to Tom.

He called out to his Padawan. 

No one answered. 

He spun around in endless circles. He searched every alcove. His panic flared brighter and stronger. 

He collapsed to his knees. The cobblestone pressed painfully against his flesh, drawing droplets of blood. 

A familiar form then began to approach him. His robes held the stars that were no longer in the sky. His face was wrinkled, worn with his many years of servitude. 

Tears sprang into Harry’s eyes. He stared up at Dumbledore. He felt smaller. He felt as though he was a Padawan again. 

(Harry let out a loud sniffle as he sat on the upturned, harsh earth. His knees were skinned. 

It was a light, barely-there wound, the blood trickling down in thin lines. 

He had received worse at the Dursleys. 

Yet, as he stared at his master, he found tears welling in his eyes anyway.)

Arms enveloped him. 

Dumbledore tucked Harry close to him. He held him tenderly. 

He felt as hot, desperate tears slid down his face, leaving his cheeks wet. 

The world was collapsing into a black hole. 

A hand slid on top of his head. “You’ll be alright, my boy,” Dumbledore said kindly. His voice was terribly sad. “You’re a wonderful Jedi. You always have been.”

Harry shuddered violently, his heart breaking. He repressed another agonized cry. 

“I’m here for you,” Dumbledore murmured, his voice faint. 

He was a failure of a Jedi Knight. 

He had failed Tom as his master. 

Tom was no longer in the Jedi Order.

Chapter Text

The sky was grey and bleak, its once familiar brightness obscured by thick, dark clouds. The wind buffeted against him, cold.  

He didn’t know how long he’d been by the Great Tree. It could’ve been hours—hours spent staring at the tree and its gnarled branches. The leaves swayed silently in the wind, holding his attention with every gentle, serene swish. 

His chest was strangely hollow. The sort of ache one felt upon the death of a loved one. There was a numbness that sank down into his fingertips, colder than the bitter chill that came from Hoth. His eyelids were heavy. It was nearly impossible for him to keep them open. 

He could hear a figure approaching him. 

Harry let out an exhausted sigh. “D’you have any new information?” he asked, his voice quiet. He turned towards his former master. 

The wrinkled lines etched into Dumbledore’s face felt deeply and sorely pronounced. His blue eyes no longer held an eager twinkle. Instead, his eyes were weary and somber. 

Dumbledore inclined his head, sighing, “We have no new information. Your Padawan is still missing.”

His chest cracked with pain. It splintered into deep, burning gashes. 

Tears welled in his eyes. 

His gaze returned to the Great Tree. He watched as a leaf tumbled towards the ground. Harry’s lips quirked into a small smile. 

“Tom never cared for the courtyard. He never liked the Great Tree or his fellow Padawans, the ones who came here to train. He disliked coming here with me. He saw everyone as—well, as a…” he trailed off. 

Tom had seen everyone around them as a threat to their friendship. 

“The courtyard always reminded me of Alderaan,” he murmured. His gaze was wet as he watched another leaf fall soundlessly towards the ground. The wind then suddenly caught the leaf, careening it towards Harry’s feet. 

Dumbledore stepped closer to him. “Alderaan is a beautiful planet,” he whispered. “It is only natural you would reminisce about its beauty and light,” his eyes shone sadly. “I don’t know if I’d ever willingly choose to return to my homeworld. But you were always kinder than me.” 

Harry’s head snapped towards Dumbledore. The thick fog clouding his mind temporarily cleared. “You’ll always be a better Jedi than me,” he said, astonished. “You’re on the council as a Jedi Master! You’re what the Jedi Code has always envisioned for its disciples! You’re serene and at peace!”

“There is a grave difference between being a good Jedi and a caring, compassionate person. You have always surpassed me in the latter, my dear boy,” Dunbledore said warmly. His voice then lowered to a soft hush. “I fear I may have sent you down an incorrect path. But there is little to be done about that now.” 

Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. He patted him reassuringly, murmuring, “Your Padawan will be alright. He will return to the Jedi Temple. Tom has never been able to keep his distance from you for very long.” 

A gleam of sadness then flickered in Dumbledore’s eyes. Quietly, he whispered, “You need to rest. Your Padawan would’ve wanted you to rest.”

It was true that Harry hadn’t slept in days. His hair was disheveled, curls sticking in every direction. He had purple bags under his eyes, dark as he traveled across the galaxy. 

He had flown to multiple planets, searching for his Padawan. He had trekked across mud-covered swamps and planets made of lava. He had spoken to dignitaries in Naboo, asking them if they had seen his Padawan. 

He had even returned to Zygerria. He had gone into its new slave market, horrified at the prospect of seeing Tom—of seeing him alive but taken as a slave. It would’ve made sense. Of course, the Zygerrians would want revenge, the Jedi Order had humiliated them. The Zygerrians would’ve taken Tom as retribution, a punishment. 

Tom luckily wasn’t on Zygerria. It felt as though his Padawan wasn’t anywhere in the universe. 

The latest planet Harry had visited was Kashyyyk. He had hoped that he would find Tom hidden in one of its lush, sprawling forests. It would’ve been a wonderful place for them to reunite. 

A gentle rain would’ve been falling from the sky. The trees would’ve been a rich green, refreshed by the quiet rain. He would’ve ran into Tom’s arms, the Force around them singing with relief and longing. 

The rain would’ve flatten his curls, and he would’ve looked like a shivering loth-cat. The reunion would’ve been wet and emotional. It would’ve been perfect. 

Instead, he was alone. He had no idea where his Padawan had gone. He didn’t know if he’d ever see Tom again.  

His nails dug into his palms sharply. A wail threatened to burst past his lips. 

He shoved his emotions towards the Force, ignoring his grief. He wouldn’t cry in front of his former master. He’d ignore his emotions and focus on finding Tom.  

His Padawan was all that mattered. 

Harry gave Dumbledore a weary smile. His heart broke as he whispered, “I'll be able to rest once Tom is beside me, safe and sound.” 

He would visit Corellia next. 

***

He shifted in front of the council, his eyes darting about. His exhaustion was obvious. The purple bags beneath his eyes had deepened, marring his face like dark bruises. 

He kept twitching. Harry couldn’t stop fidgeting. He kept digging his nails into his palms. His nerves were on fire. He had to relieve the itching beneath his flesh, the need to squirm. 

But he couldn’t do anything in front of the council. He had to wait for them to speak. 

Harry shifted once more. He tucked his hands inside his pockets, his fingers twitching. 

He could be patient. He could be what the Jedi Code wished for in its Jedi. 

He had just returned from Corellia. It had been another failed mission. Tom was not on the industrial planet. He had not snuck away to Corellia to steal one of its many cruisers. The shipyard planet remained untouched by Harry’s mischievous Padawan.

A bead of sweat slid down his nape. It irritated his flesh, its gentle glide. He twitched subtly, his eyelids flickering. 

His exhaustion was gathering behind his eyes. It stung sharply. It penetrated his skull with an insistent ache. His stomach twisted with unease. 

He couldn’t wait for the Jedi Council to speak. 

His tongue felt heavy as he whispered, “Why have you summoned me?” 

The masters on the council exchanged a concerned glance. He could feel their concern weaving through the Force. He ignored their emotions. 

McGonagall then let out a quiet hum. She leaned towards him, her lips pursing in thought. “We have heard several disturbing reports,” McGonagall said softly. She had a pensive expression, troubled as she regarded him. 

The chamber remained eerily silent. 

He had never seen the masters so clearly disturbed. The air in the chamber felt almost tight, thick as the Force stirred with unspoken tension. 

The dark pressure sank its talons into Harry’s mind. It caused a wave of dread to rise within him. 

Harry shook his head.

He had to focus on finding Tom. His Padawan was what mattered. He would discuss his visit to Corellia quickly with the council then travel to another planet.

He couldn’t afford to waste any time.

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Bones and Burbage are dead. Amelia Bones was killed on Ryloth. Charity Burbage was killed on Cryon. It was not mere blasters that killed them. The wounds have been inspected and determined to be from a lightsaber.”

Harry blinked quickly, his mind jolting. Before he could even begin to respond, Mcgonagall glanced at him gently, stating, “We have reason to believe that Amelia Bones and Charity Burbage were murdered at the hands of a Sith Lord.”

The world around him came to an instant halt. His mind reared as he registered McGonagall’s words. 

The Sith were thought to be extinct, an artifact of a bygone era. 

He couldn’t imagine them still existing, roaming from planet to planet, lurking in the shadows. It was unthinkable. 

A shallow gasp left him. He had known Burbage personally. She was the one who had taught him about other planets as a youngling, the planetary laws and customs the systems followed. 

Grief gripped his heart painfully. He felt as though he would burst, exploding like a thermal detonator. 

Exhaling slowly, he focused on releasing his emotions into the Force. 

He couldn’t allow the council to witness his brief moment of grief. He had to remain calm and collected. 

“It is not an easy feat to take down a trained Jedi Knight, and the slashes were precise. The attacker knew the correct way to wield a lightsaber,” McGonagall said grimly. Her expression was tight, pained as she sighed into her palm. 

Then, as she glanced up at Harry, her eyes shining with sympathy, she murmured in a strained voice, “The council believes that your Padawan was slain by the Sith Lord. His absence is because—well, because he is no longer with us. He has become one with the Force.” 

His insides felt unbearably cold. He stood still, the chill spreading through his veins. He nodded slowly as McGonagall continued to speak. He couldn’t hear anything she was saying. 

Harry couldn’t hear anything at all. The entire universe had gone quiet. His hands had gone numb. He felt rooted to the floor, frozen and unable to move. 

He could see Snape, the weight of his sunken, onyx eyes trailing over him. He was watching Harry closely. Dumbledore was watching him too. His blue eyes were dull with grief. 

“The funeral will be held tomorrow. His service will take place alongside those of Amelia Bones and Charity Burbage. His robes will be cremated in place of his body,” McGonagall breathed, her voice soft. 

His head moved against his will, nodding along with her every word. 

He couldn’t imagine a life without Tom. He would never see his Padawan’s face again. Tom would never drag him into the library, hissing dramatically about Harry’s woeful lack of studiousness. 

He would never feel his Padawan’s warmth beside him again. They would never share a bed, never reach for one another in the night, searching for the kind of love only they could offer. 

His knees shook as he stood in front of the council. His eyes fell to the floor, defeated. 

He could picture his Padawan’s dark eyes, the teasing gleam they held. He could remember the low timbre of his Padawan’s voice, the way it slipped out as sibilant hisses. 

He would forget Tom’s face with time. 

Harry would grow old in the Jedi Temple. He’d grow old and forget that he ever even knew Tom. He’d forget his Padawan, the sound of his voice. He’d lose his memories of what Tom enjoyed, the books he read and the foods he ate. 

He’d never put his Padawan’s body to rest. It’d rot somewhere, alone in the dark. It’d decay in a place that Harry would never find, a lost place that wasn’t his arms. 

Harry left the chamber, his footsteps heavy. His heart was an aching mess in his chest, shattered and in pain. His grief was weighing him down, crushing him in its intensity. 

Tom was gone. 

His Padawan was one with the Force. 

Harry returned to his bedroom, silent. 

He’d never again think of the stars as bright. 

***

The world felt cold and hollow as he entered Tom’s bedroom. The simple space was quieter than it had any right to be. 

His Padawan’s apartment had once been a warm, lively space—an area where Harry would tease Tom with the Force and interrupt his meditation. He would never be able to annoy Tom again. He would never get to watch as Tom’s eyes crinkled, the corners twisting in exasperation. 

Harry sighed as he shuffled further into the room. He had to collect Tom’s belongings. The room had to be vacated. 

Tom’s bedroom would not remain untouched, preserved as a monument. Instead, the bedroom would be given to another Padawan. The plain space would be repurposed. 

The Jedi were not meant to be attached to one another. It made little sense to maintain shrines in remembrance of the dead. The dead would always live on in the Force. There was no need to mourn them. 

He had an obligation to donate Tom’s belongings. Any remaining possessions would have to be burned during the funeral. He’d be expected to let his Padawan go.

It was what a good Jedi would do. 

Harry slowly made his way through Tom’s apartment, tidying his space and organizing his belongings. It was as Harry came across Tom’s closet that he fell apart. 

He touched his Padawan’s robes, the smooth black fabric. It glided silkily across his fingers. The fabric was as soft as Tom’s touch. The robes held the warm, smoky scent of leather, the scent of his Padawan. It swirled around him. It tickled his senses and curled in his lungs.

Harry let out a weak whimper. His knees sank to the floor, numb as his flesh pressed painfully against the paneling. He felt almost delirious as he stared at the dark robes.

He held a fragment of Tom in his hands. The robes held the last remaining trace of Tom’s scent. 

His chest felt empty. An aching pit was spreading inside him, an abysmal darkness. It settled beneath his ribs. It yearned to be filled. 

Desperate, he buried his face into Tom’s robes. He inhaled his Padawan’s scent. Each breath of his was violent. It rattled in his lungs. 

Tears burned in his eyes. An airy, weak gasp left him. His tears slid down his face in a hot stream. 

The fabric was soft. It felt strangely right for the smooth material to be pressed so closely against him. 

A low moan echoed in the silent room. 

The familiar warmth of Tom was melting his insides. He felt a burning need to creep closer to his Padawan. He found that he wanted to taste the familiar smell. 

A shallow cry caught in the back of his throat, strangled. Trembling, he pressed his face closer, angling his nose along the collar. He inhaled sharply. 

Teary-eyed, he tucked the robes beneath his right arm. He was going to keep some of Tom’s belongings. The council would be furious with him. He would be punished if they discovered his act of defiance. 

But he wanted to remain close to Tom. He wanted to smell his Padawan. 

He would keep Tom with him for as long as he could. 

The consequences of that wouldn’t matter. 

***

The funeral was quiet. The other attending Jedi wore their usual daily attire. No one wore black. No one cried. 

Tom’s clothes were placed inside a casket. The small pile of fabric felt almost insulting. The rumpled, lifeless pile felt pitiful and insignificant in comparison to Tom. Tom was brilliant. He was supposed to become a great Jedi. 

The casket was then lowered beneath the floor. The floor sealed shut with a piercing snap. The sharp sound caused Harry to flinch. 

Wide-eyed, he stared at the place where the casket had been. He was attending his own Padawan’s funeral. His Padawan was dead. 

A bright light then shot through a circular opening set into the floor. It shone brilliantly in the dim room. The light was meant to represent the dead’s ascendance into the Force. Instead, the light reminded Harry that his Padawan’s clothes were being burned and discarded, ruined as if they weren’t one of the only things that remained of Tom. 

Hissing, he glared down at the floor, his fists clenching. His Padawan was being burned. He was losing most of what he had left of Tom. 

His anger invaded his every cell. It pumped through his veins in quick, erratic pulses. The rage throbbed in his blood, aching as he noticed the other Jedi. 

The Jedi were watching him closely. He could feel their eyes roaming across him. They wanted to see his reaction, his grief regarding Tom’s death. 

Harry stood still. He wouldn’t become visibly angry. He refused to give the other Jedi the satisfaction of watching him break. 

His eyes returned to the cold, bright beam. His expression remained blank. 

Harry wouldn’t give any of the Jedi a reaction. 

***

His sobs were loud and desperate as he cried in his bedroom. Sniffing, he buried his face into Tom’s robes. He inhaled deeply. He didn’t know how he’d be able to survive without Tom. His Padawan balanced him. 

Devastated, he crawled across his bed, Tom’s robes trailing behind him. 

Tom had always been cool and detached in situations of peril. His behaviour had only changed with his visions. His visions had infested his mind, tormenting him with futures that were only mere possibilities.

A sharp laugh then suddenly left Harry. His lips twisted humorlessly. Despite all of Tom’s visions, Harry hadn’t been the one to die. His Padawan’s paranoia had been for nothing. 

Slowly, his voice lowered, his laughs shifting. There was a deep ache inside him. It pulsed in tandem with his anger. 

A guttural growl left him. He clawed at Tom’s robes, frantic. His nails scraped along the smooth fabric. A Sith Lord had been the one to kill Tom. 

It would have been a horrific, drawn-out battle. The Sith were known for their ruthlessness, their cruelty towards their enemies. 

His grip on his Padawan’s robes tightened. 

It would have been a painful death. 

Tom would have suffered.

He buried his face in Tom’s robes again, drawing in a sharp breath. His pupils were contracted, slitted like a snake’s gaze. He let out a low growl. 

The Sith Lord had to die. Harry had to avenge Tom’s death.

He didn’t care about the Jedi Code. He’d have his revenge. It wouldn’t even matter if Harry died. 

He’d become one with the Force. The universe would right itself. Everything would become as it was always meant to be. 

He’d be with his Padawan again.

A furious snarl swiftly carved its way into his skin. His rage bled into the Force. It tainted everything around him, diseased. 

His green eyes peeked out from within the folds of Tom’s robes. His eyes were burning with unshed tears, reflecting a bitter, vicious hatred. 

He’d have revenge for his Padawan’s death. 

That was the only thing that mattered now. 

***

The courtyard was quiet as Harry paced restlessly. Frustrated, he gnawed at his lip. Small droplets of blood formed on the smooth, pink skin. He licked them away. 

His nails dug crescents into his flesh. A low noise rumbled in his chest. 

He’d leave Coruscant soon. He’d travel from planet-to-planet until he found the Sith Lord. Then, he’d kill them.

His eyes raked across the silent courtyard. He had to train first. He had to improve his lightsaber skills. He wouldn’t be able to take on a Sith Lord with his current abilities. He had to improve and fast. 

His eyebrows furrowed, his anger settling within him. 

All that mattered was that he killed the Sith Lord. His death wouldn’t matter at all. No one would miss him.

A warm presence then entered the courtyard. It held the same warmth one would find in a fresh batch of hot chocolate. It sat sweetly on one’s tongue. It sent pleasant shivers down Harry’s spine. 

He glanced over at Neville, his eyes widening. “What are you doing here?”

“W-Wotcha, Harry!” Neville laughed, his voice high. His cheeks were dimpled as a warm blush flushed his skin. He smiled toothily. “I have plans to train the younglings today. It should be a simple training exercise. The little troublemakers—well, they’re not Padawans yet! They don’t need anything too intensive.” 

Harry stared blankly at Neville. The Force rippled around him, dark.

A nervous sheen glazed Neville’s eyes. Slowly, he wetted his lip. He shuffled closer to Harry, his steps hesitant. “Would you be interested in training the younglings with me? I’m sure the children would benefit from your presence. You’d have so much knowledge to give them—”

Harry shifted, his expression tightening with discomfort. He let out an incredulous laugh. “I doubt I’d have anything worthwhile to offer them. I couldn’t even give Tom anything of real value as his master. It’d be better if you taught them on your own.” 

Neville stepped a little closer. Wide-eyed, he reached towards Harry. His fingers brushed along the inside of Harry’s wrist. His gaze was steady, purposeful. “You were a wonderful master to Tom. You’re an incredible Jedi. Y-You’re brave and kind in a way most people could never hope to be,” he said, his voice growing stronger. “You’d make a great teacher. The children would think you’re cool.” 

A wet laugh slipped from Harry’s lips. His eyes gleamed brightly. Slowly, he smiled at Neville. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” he murmured. “I must’ve done something wrong if t he children think I’m cool.” 

Their laughter then echoed through the courtyard. Neville nudged Harry’s foot with his own. His warm fingers trailed teasingly along Harry’s wrist, pleasingly gentle. 

Neville’s lips pursed as he murmured, “You’re a great Jedi, whether you believe it or not. I know it can be d-difficult to accept that sometimes.”

A soft finger touched Harry’s lip. It pressed gently along his skin, trailing toward the split, torn edge of his mouth.

“You’re bleeding,” Neville said softly, his voice worried. His expression then shifted. Slowly, he slid his finger across Harry’s bitten lip, the warm blood clinging to his finger. 

A serene chill then settled into Harry’s wound, spreading softly through the rest of his body. An amazed, breathless gasp left Harry. He quickly reached up to touch his mouth. 

His split lip was completely healed. 

His eyes locked onto Neville’s. A nervous blush crept into Neville’s cheeks. It trickled along his flesh, warming the tips of his ears. 

Awkwardly, Neville whispered, “I can heal incredibly minor wounds. At first, I learned how to heal plants, wilted ones. I could restore them t-to their original state by channeling Force energy—from me to them. Eventually, I… well, I figured out how to transfer the process to human wounds.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry murmured. “You’re brilliant.”

Neville’s face was beet red, his cheeks aflame. 

Some strange part of him wanted to bite Neville’s cheek. He wanted to taste the pink flesh. He wanted to move closer to him. 

Instead, he shook his head. He pushed his distracting thoughts towards the Force. 

It was as he glanced back at Neville that his movements stilled. Harry sucked in a harsh breath. 

Neville’s eyes were fixated on his lips. His eyes were glazed, hungry as he stared continuously.

Harry’s insides squirmed pleasantly. He was sure that Neville wanted to kiss him. But Neville wasn’t showing any signs of moving closer. Instead, he remained a respectful distance away.

Harry blinked slowly. In one shallow breath, he cautiously whispered, “D’you want to kiss me?”

Neville’s eyes widened. He hastily nodded. However, as the seconds dragged on, Neville didn’t move towards Harry. 

“You’re not making a move on me,” Harry said, curiosity stirring in his eyes. 

A pained grimace crossed Neville’s face. “Y-You’re grieving your Padawan,” he croaked. “It would be wrong to kiss you. You shouldn’t have to deal with my emotions on top of your own.”

Harry’s cheeks flared with embarrassment. He shifted away from Neville. His eyes darted about quickly. He had no desire to discuss his Padawan with Neville, his dead Padawan. Tom was special to him.

An anguished breath left him. His stomach twisted with disgust. 

Tom had been killed at the hands of a Sith Lord.

Harry was wasting what little time he had. He should be tracking down Tom’s murderer, not spending time with Neville. 

He was a terrible master.

His teeth clenched painfully. Hissing, he turned towards Neville, his lips curving to spit venom—sharp and cruel like a snake. His snarl then froze as he noticed Neville’s expression. 

He had a resigned look on his face. His lips were spread in a kind smile, one that held understanding in its tilt. 

Harry’s legs wobbled. An odd sensation washed over him. It temporarily cleared his mind. 

He could have been happy with Neville. He was sure that he could have lived his life beside the other Jedi.

They would have taught the younglings together. They would have explored planets and gathered herbs side by side. It would have been a peaceful life, a life spent as mentors. 

A shaky breath left him. His eyelids flicked rapidly. He had to avenge Tom’s death. 

With an enraged growl, Harry stormed away from Neville. His footsteps echoed as he stumbled inside the Jedi Temple. 

He’d never again get to see his Padawan’s face. He’d never see that familiar gleam in his eyes, the way his lips curved in a playful smile. 

Harry’s steps grew faster.

Then, as he moved impatiently, his mind slowly returned to Neville, the softness in his eyes. Neville had stared almost reverently at Harry’s lips. A quiet hunger had settled over his features. 

Neville’s lingering gaze reminded Harry of his Padawan, the way Tom used to look at him. 

Harry came to a sudden halt. 

His fingers drifted slowly towards his lips. No. He couldn’t imagine Tom wanting to kiss him. Harry had been his master. It would’ve been wrong. It was unthinkable. 

Harry’s finger slid along his lip, nudging inside his mouth. His tongue curled around the digit. A strange warmth pooled inside him. 

Harry had never kissed anyone before. Kissing Tom would have been intense—overwhelming, even. 

His Padawan had excelled at everything. He would’ve been just as perfect in a kiss . He would’ve found the perfect angle, the ideal amount of pressure. 

His insides then curdled with disgust. Harry collapsed against a pillar, the rigid stone forcing him upright. His thoughts were revolting. He was a foul person, a monster. He had practically raised Tom as his son. 

A desperate groan escaped his lips. With a weak shudder, he buried his face into his hands. Tom had seen Harry as a safe space, a person he could go to for help. 

He pressed closer to the pillar, his hands shaking. Harry was a disgusting person . He couldn’t believe that his mind had wandered there—had seen Tom in a romantic light, even if for a brief moment.

Yet, even as he admonished himself, Harry returned to one agonizing realization. Tom was dead. It no longer mattered what Harry thought of Tom. His Padawan was gone. Harry’s thoughts would never again affect Tom. He could think anything about his former Padawan, anything at all. It would change nothing.

His shoulders trembled with rage. Twitching, he clawed vicious lines across his flesh. He marred his face with red scratches. 

He’d be with Tom soon enough. He’d return to his Padawan’s side.

The universe would finally right itself. 

***

His blood roared in his ears. It deafened the world around him. 

Tiny, breathless pants left him as he circled a hovering droid. The droid was blasting quick bolts of light at him. He had to deflect or dodge the attacks. 

Snarling, he swung his lightsaber towards an oncoming beam. The bolt of light ricocheted towards the ceiling, scorching the pale, smooth stone. He had always relied on the Force while in combat. He had always preferred immobilizing his enemies over outright hurting them. 

A lightsaber was a deadly weapon, one that could maim or disfigure. In contrast, the Force could restrain his enemies or push them away. It was a neutral energy, a form of non-violent combat.

In one quick, brutal swing, Harry drove his lightsaber inside the droid. Sparks flew from the device, showering him in an electric, blue spray. 

He could feel a deep anger spasming in his gut. It grew hotter with each passing moment. A thick venom settled on his tongue. 

He didn’t want to restrain the Sith Lord. No, Harry didn’t want to show them any mercy, none at all. He wanted to watch as the Sith Lord suffered through waves of pain. 

The same pain that Tom had endured. 

Another droid flew towards Harry. He readied his lightsaber. 

It was while he was lost in his training that a familiar presence approached him. A white beard appeared at the edge of his vision. A steady hand gripped him.

“Your fighting style is too aggressive. Be mindful, my boy. A Jedi should preserve life, not take it.” 

“Mindful,” Harry spat. His tongue curled viciously in his mouth. “You want me to be mindful while I have a dead Padawan. That's ridiculous! You’ll never understand the way I feel.”

Dumbledore inclined his head. Quietly, he murmured, “You’re correct, Harry. I’ve never lost my Padawan, the one I cared for and raised. And I would very much like to keep it that way.”

Dumbledore’s eyes shone gently as he whispered, his voice low, “You leave yourself far too vulnerable when you fight violently, Harry. It is not of your nature. I think it would be wise to avoid such tactics.” 

Harry scoffed. He avoided Dumbledore’s eyes as his insides writhed, twisting hot with anger. 

Dumbledore’s eyebrows then furrowed. A pensive look came upon his face. He stroked his beard slowly. 

“I’ve had a certain suspicion, one that’s lingered in my mind, festering ever since Tom’s death. It seems odd for Tom to have been killed by a Sith Lord.”

His blue eyes landed on Harry. “I strongly suspect that your former Padawan may still be alive.”

Harry dove towards Dumbledore, his eyes desperate. “What do you mean?” he asked quickly. “That can’t be right—Tom would’ve returned to me if he were alive. He wouldn’t have left me.” 

His hands were shaking, twitching as he fumbled with Dumbledore’s robes. He couldn't breathe properly. Harry could feel his lungs straining for air. His vision was blurring. 

Gasping, he shifted closer to Dumbledore, his knees wobbling. “He would’ve returned to me,” he choked. “He would’ve been beside me by now. Tom wouldn’t stay away from me.” 

The thought of Tom leaving him was abhorrent. He knew that his Padawan wouldn't abandon him. It was impossible. Tom was his friend. The two of them were meant to be together. 

A flash of molten anger flared inside him. Furious, he hissed, “You’re wrong! Tom would never choose to leave me. I’d never choose to leave him—” his voice trailed off. A wave of dread crashed over him. 

He had abandoned his Padawan. 

He had abandoned Tom while he was sick, his skin slick with sweat and flushed with heat. That was the final memory he had of Tom. And worse—that was the last memory Tom had of him. 

With numb, shaky hands, he ignited his lightsaber. “Y-You should leave. I’d like to continue my training alone,” he said, his voice weak. 

He levelled his lightsaber towards a training drone. He thought of the Sith Lord. Tom had to be dead. It was the only reasonable explanation. 

Dumbledore let out a soft, weary sigh. His eyes were heavy—laden with sorrow as he stared at Harry. It was a quiet sadness. 

Harry ignored his former master. Instead, he destroyed one training droid after another, fighting until he collapsed onto the ground. His limbs ached with exhaustion, burning as he hobbled through the Jedi Temple. 

He would do what he had to do. He’d train until his legs gave out. 

For Tom.

***

Quatrith was a desolate planet. It had no grass. Instead, the earth was as hard as stone. Clouds of dust carried in the wind. The trees held no leaves. Their branches were twisted like gnarled bones, broken and brittle. 

His eyes were cold as he regarded his former master. “Tom wouldn’t have wanted us to come here. He never cared for his homeworld. He found his past, his years at Wool’s Orphanage…” Harry trailed off. 

His Padawan had always hated Quatrith . He wouldn’t have wanted to return to the barren planet. He wouldn’t have wanted Harry to travel there alone. 

There was a sad smile splayed across Dumbledore’s face. In a low voice, he whispered, “We can never truly abandon our pasts. It sticks to our fingers like stubborn tendrils of caramel. Tom will always be—well, he’ll always be a boy who came from Quatrith. He cannot escape that.”

A tumbleweed rolled quickly in front of them. 

Harry gritted his teeth. His voice was thick with emotion as he choked, “He wouldn’t have wanted his funeral here. He would've preferred anywhere over Quatrith.” 

“He already had a funeral at the Jedi Temple. You can consider this another goodbye.” 

The clouds churned above them. A bolt of lightning tore across the sky. Moments later, a low, echoing rumble reached them. The thunder was deep.

Dumbledore shifted beside him. He shifted closer to Harry, their shoulders lightly touching. His blue eyes were unusually sharp. They held a protective gleam, searing as Dumbledore stood still.

A bemused smile flickered across Harry’s face. “Are you worried about the lightning?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. “I doubt we’ll be struck by it. We’re rather short.” 

A rough guffaw left Dumbledore’s lips. A warm hand then slid onto Harry’s shoulder. It pulled him slightly closer. “You’re right, my dear boy,” Dumbledore chuckled, smiling. “I have nothing to fear. However, I’d still prefer for you to remain close.” 

The gentle gleam in Dumbledore’s eyes had him feeling smaller. He felt as though he was a Padawan again. 

He would stumble clumsily after Dumbledore, his robes far too large for him, constantly tripping him and tangling around his feet. It was now an embarrassing memory—his overly long robes and tomato-red cheeks, flushed with shame. His appearance as a Padawan.

Harry leaned into Dumbledore’s embrace. He swore he could feel something prickling beneath his skin. Dark tendrils that slipped underneath his skull.  

His fingers twitched nervously. 

The air was sharp with hatred. His eyes trailed towards an obscured area of shadows. He felt as though he was being watched. There was a presence in the withered bushes. He was sure of it.

“The Force has always been dark on Quatrith. It is an unhappy planet, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said sagely. His lips quirked almost knowingly. He eyed the shadowy bushes, satisfied. Smiling, he squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

Harry nodded slowly. 

The two of them then explored the old pathways of Little Hangleton. They remained beside one another.

***

His bedroom was quiet as he entered the small space. He was exhausted. His bones ached beneath his flesh, trembling. Harry shifted towards his bed. He moved blindly. 

He couldn’t feel his toes anymore. His flesh had gone numb. He had trained his body to its absolute limit. 

Exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed. He blinked slowly. He had dark bags beneath his eyes, purple and heavy. He could barely think anymore. 

A weak noise left his lips. Crawling, he moved across his bed, reaching towards Tom’s shirt. He grabbed the soft fabric and brought it to his nose. He inhaled sharply. 

No.

His eyes widened. A terrible fear settled in his chest. He sniffed the shirt again. 

No, no, no. 

Desperate, he buried his face into the smooth fabric. The gentle material slid along his cheek, teasingly cool to the touch. Harry let out another weak noise.

He couldn't smell Tom anymore. 

He couldn’t smell his Padawan. 

Pained, soft noises left his lips, spilling brokenly as he writhed against his bed. His fingers clawed at the dark shirt, scrambling with fear. He had nothing left of Tom, nothing at all. 

The warm, smoky scent that had once clung to Tom’s clothes was gone. His scent had faded away, vanished into nothing. 

Tears burned in his eyes. A mournful cry caught in his throat. His hands shook as he cradled the shirt to his chest. Tom was finally gone from the universe. There was nothing left of him. Harry had nothing left to hold. 

He had willingly burned all that remained of his Padawan. 

Harry choked back another wretched sob. He could feel the Force darkening around him. It felt as though his gravity was increasing. He was sinking into his bed, his limbs heavy with dread. His chest was collapsing in on itself. He was collapsing in on himself. 

His tears slid down his cheeks in an agonized, hot stream. His heart was exploding. His insides were bursting in a supernova, his nerves catching on fire. The explosion then ended. It quieted. 

There was a hole in his chest, an empty, dark hole. 

He felt nothing as he rose to his feet. 

It was time to begin his search. 

***

Alderaan had descended into complete chaos, spiralling swiftly after its assigned Jedi Knight had been killed. Wild fires were spreading across the gorgeous, tree-filled planet, damaging its delicate ecosystem. 

Civilians were speeding dangerously, distracted in their panic. There had been multiple mid-air collisions. The crashes rained debris onto the unsuspecting civilians below. 

Multiple dignitaries had been murdered as well. The assailant had worn a silver mask, one that resembled the smooth visage of a snake. 

The council had quickly held a meeting. It was decided that multiple Jedi would be sent to the mountainous planet. Harry was one of the chosen Jedi. He knew Alderaan and its terrain. 

He had heard whispers too—concerned breaths that all spoke of the Sith Lord. It was believed that the Sith Lord was the one behind the chaos. They had caused the suffering on Alderaan. 

Dumbledore had spoken to Harry gently. He had told him that the Dursleys were dead. His relatives had been killed, marred by scorched gashes, the cauterized wounds that came from a lightsaber’s strike. The assailant had killed his relatives. 

At first, he hadn’t believed Dumbledore. The words didn’t make sense—he couldn’t comprehend them. The Dursleys couldn’t be dead. It was impossible. 

He hadn’t cared for his relatives, not really. Still, he hadn’t wanted them to die. He knew they had their reasons for treating him the way they did. He logically knew that he hadn’t deserved that treatment—but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the past. 

He had other things to care about. He had planets to save and missions to complete. 

He had a Sith Lord to defeat.

The flight line was almost empty upon his arrival. His robes shifted quietly as he moved towards his spaceship, the one that would take him to Alderaan. The other Jedi accompanying him had already gotten onto the ship. 

Neville stood alone, his eyes shining. He had a worried smile on his face as he waved at Harry. His doubt was ebbing into the Force, rippling around him in light waves. 

“I-I thought I’d give you a proper send-off! Wish you luck before your journey!” Neville said hastily. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides. “You’re going up against a Sith Lord. That deserves… something special, don’t you think?” 

“So, you’ve been listening to the rumours, then,” he muttered. “Nothing’s been confirmed. For all we know, the Sith Lord isn’t even on Alderaan.” His last words came out bitterly. 

Neville blinked slowly. His features softened as he whispered, “You want the Sith Lord to be on Alderaan. You want to encounter them.” His eyes shone with a deep kindness, one that felt beyond Harry’s reach—beyond his ability to produce. “I'll come with you. I’ll fight beside you. You only need to tell me to. Say the word.”

“I’d like to go alone,” Harry said, his voice quiet. “I can take the Sith Lord alone.”

His eyes lifted above Neville’s head, towards an unmoving, still figure. His lips parted. Softly, he whispered, “Dumbledore. He’s not approaching me.” 

Dumbledore stood off in the distance, his dark robes shifting slightly. Harry had never seen Dumbledore in black before. It was an odd sight. It felt unnatural. 

His master was meant to wear bright, lively colours—not these dull, lifeless shades. Harry glanced towards the ground. It seemed as though everything was changing. 

The hole in his chest writhed. Its tendrils clawed mercilessly. Harry shook his head. 

He had a mission to complete. 

Ignoring his former master, he moved towards the spaceship. He left Neville’s side. 

Dumbledore didn’t have the courage to approach him. 

He didn’t have the strength to face him. 

Well, he’d make it easy on his former master. He’d leave and fight the Sith Lord. He’d tear them  apart. Then, once the battle was over, there would be nothing left for Harry. He’d have nothing at all. He’d leave to be with Tom again. 

The tired, worn wrinkles on Dumbledore’s face made him wonder whether his master understood his resolve. Dumbledore’s face was tight with despair while Neville’s was etched with hope. 

The emotions stirring in the Force meant nothing. 

He’d be with the Force soon enough. 

He had no more energy for anything else. 

***

The flight to Alderaan was peaceful. It was quick and uneventful. He could sense the other Jedi in the centre of the ship, speaking with one another. He had no desire to join them.

Concentrating, he focused on his breathing. He focused on his connection with the Force, the dark energy that surrounded him. The Force roiled around him like storm clouds. It churned and seethed with rage. It reflected his desire to maim the Sith Lord. 

Harry stood shakily to his feet. His hands were trembling, weak as he stepped forward. He gritted his teeth. He’d finally put his training to use. 

He’d thrust his lightsaber inside the Sith Lord. He’d strike them until bile burst past their foul lips. He’d make them suffer.

Cursing, Harry tucked his hands inside his robes. He couldn’t stop shaking. His body kept twitching as though shocked by an electrical wire. 

His eyelids flickered. He could sense another presence in the Force. A stream of vicious darkness was soaring towards the spaceship, circling like a bird of prey. It swooped lower and lower until it rested on the ship’s dorsal. 

It then moved inside the ship. 

The alarms blared to life. Red lights flashed all around him, blinding him. The rich colour spasmed across the walls in a repetitive display. It danced violently. 

Harry sprang out of his bedroom. He stormed down the hallway. 

His boots clicked sharply as he met with the other Jedi. He took out his lightsaber. Its green light gleamed in contrast with the red alarms. 

He turned towards the other Jedi, stating, “The intruder entered through the roof of the ship.” 

The other Jedi nodded. An array of lightsaber colours lit up the small space. The four of them shifted close together. 

“D’you think the Sith Lord is the intruder?” one of the Jedi asked quickly, their voice tinged with unease. 

Another Jedi shifted. They replied steadily, blinking, “It is probable. We should proceed with caution until we know more.” 

“There is no need to cause undue alarm,” the third Jedi spoke up, their voice gentle. “We have no reason to believe that the Sith Lord came to Alderaan.” 

A red lightsaber tore through the ceiling. It violently slashed its way through a metal panel. The panel clattered to the floor with a loud clang. 

The universe was silent, still. 

A cloaked figure landed on the floor. 

Thick, suffocating waves of darkness emanated from the figure. It filled Harry’s lungs with smoke. 

He choked, his throat spasming. The other Jedi beside him shifted. He could feel their dread entering the Force. 

A distinct chill hung in the air. The cold came from the Sith Lord; their presence in the Force was strikingly frigid. It froze the blood in Harry’s veins.

Harry shivered, his breaths coalescing in front of him. 

The sharp cold reminded him of Hoth. The fierce wind that had once buffeted against him. The inclement mountains that had surrounded them. 

Them.

Tom’s cheeks had been a deep, pleasing red, bitten by the unforgiving chill. He could remember Tom’s embarrassed smile, the haze in his glazed eyes. 

Tom had trudged valiantly through the snow. He had been determined to protect Harry. 

The press of their bodies had been so warm. 

His grip on his lightsaber then tightened. His rage returned to him. He would ruin the Sith Lord. He would destroy them. His hatred thawed the numbing cold rising from the Sith Lord. It dulled their chilling presence. 

He stepped forward, his lightsaber searing with warmth. 

Slowly, the Sith Lord rose to their feet. A sleek, silver mask covered their features, one that resembled a snake. Black, fitted leather gloves covered the Sith Lord’s hands. The dark fabric of their robes clung to them. It stuck to them almost wetly. He could see the defined curves of the man’s chest. He was fit.

The thought caused Harry’s anger to burn past its limit. His teeth gnashed together. He’d tear the Sith Lord apart. 

Harry could sense where the Sith Lord’s eyes were drawn. He could sense the flickering of his eyes behind his mask. The Sith Lord regarded each of the Jedi slowly, the Force writhing around him in disgust. His attention then shifted towards Harry.

The Sith Lord froze. 

The world became silent as the two of them stared at one another. Harry couldn’t hear the blaring of the alarms. He couldn’t hear anything. The only thing he could focus on was his hate. 

It bubbled in his chest. It frothed with a bitter venom. He could feel his lightsaber in his hand. He could hear the faint, electrical sound of its whirring. His lips parted into a snarl.

He would cut the Sith Lord down. 

He would kill him. 

Then, as Harry leapt towards the Sith Lord, his weapon extended, he failed to notice a subtle, minute shift in the Force. The energy around the Sith Lord had brightened upon him noticing Harry. It had brightened considerably. 

Pleased, the Sith Lord met Harry’s swings with an almost excited fervor. However, as the other Jedi raced towards the Sith Lord, their lightsabers glowing, the Force surrounding the Sith Lord darkened. It twisted into something else. 

It became darker than it ever was before. 

A low growl tore past the Sith Lord’s teeth. The rough, gravelly sound rattled through the ship. The sound was guttural. It caused Harry’s next swing to falter. It was the sound of an animal. 

The Force then wrapped around him, gripping him in a tight embrace. It hurled him away from the battle. His back slammed against a metal wall. 

An involuntary gasp left him. His insides squirmed. He could feel dozens of hands touching him. Deft fingers slid through his curls. Warm hands stroked his back. 

He could feel the soft touch of a thumb sliding across his cheek. One finger kept nudging at his lip. It pushed insistently. 

Harry shook his head. He had to ignore the strange, ghostly touches, the fleeting sensations. He had to rejoin the battle. The Sith Lord was distracting him . Harry inhaled sharply. He was allowing the Sith Lord to win. 

His eyes swiftly returned to the battle. The Sith Lord was fighting all three Jedi at once. His attacks were powerful. Terrifying. 

The Sith Lord then slashed his lightsaber cruelly. The first Jedi let out an agonized scream as their arm dropped to the floor with a wet thud. 

Harry watched in horror as the first Jedi collapsed. The hoarse screams then came to an abrupt stop. A head toppled to the floor, lifeless. 

The Sith Lord turned towards Harry. One thought echoed through the room—

Mine.

Harry reared backward. There was something deeply wrong with the Sith Lord. A swell of possessiveness was surging through the air. It was coming from the Sith Lord. It was flooding the room. 

Horrified, Harry charged towards the Sith Lord. He swung his lightsaber viciously. In one quick, fluid movement, the Sith Lord dodged the attack and kicked Harry in the stomach. 

He gritted his teeth. Snarling, he swung another blow towards the Sith Lord. The strike fell inches from the Sith Lord’s face. It sizzled past his cheek.

The second Jedi leapt towards the Sith Lord. The strikes exchanged between them were quick and brutal. The Jedi aimed one ruthless slash for his side, another for his throat. 

Harry then heard a low creak. His eyes widened. Cursing, he dropped to his knees, ducking just as a metal panel soared over his head. 

Wide-eyed, he shouted, “Look out!” 

The metal panel slammed into the back of the Jedi. It cut into their robes, slashing the thick, worn brown fabric. Drops of blood splattered onto the floor. The edge of the panel had sliced into the Jedi’s skull, carving a wide, bloodied gash. 

The Sith Lord raised his lightsaber. 

Concentrating, Harry seized the second Jedi with the Force. He threw them away from the battle. They then collapsed onto the floor, limbs flailing as Harry forcibly dragged them to safety. 

“Kriff,” he cursed, his lips curling. 

Harry aimed one last strike at the Sith Lord. His boots squeaked as he retreated, bounding towards the side of the second Jedi. He quickly helped them to their feet. 

He kept his hand on their shoulder, whispering, “Are you alright?”

The second Jedi nodded. “I’m alright. I only need one moment to recover.” 

Harry smiled encouragingly, murmuring, “You’ll be alright. We’ll all be okay. We’ll return to Coruscant soon.” 

He glanced back at the battle. His eyes widened with surprise. The Sith Lord was staring at him. He was staring intensely at him, his limbs slack. It was as though the Sith Lord had forgotten about the battle. 

A shiver ran down Harry’s spine. He shuddered. The Sith Lord was so creepy. His behaviour was unnatural. It was unsettling. 

Glaring, he stepped in front of the second Jedi. He shielded them with his body. He wouldn’t allow the Sith Lord to hurt them. He’d rip the man apart. 

Then, as the Sith Lord shifted towards Harry, the third Jedi launched an attack on the Sith Lord. With a powerful push of the Force, he slammed the Sith Lord against the floor. 

The Sith Lord grunted in pain. Shouting, the Jedi leapt above the Sith Lord, his lightsaber poised to strike. Sparks flew through the air. The two lightsabers met in a clash of colour. 

The third Jedi stood above the Sith Lord. He used his position to strike downwards repeatedly. The Sith Lord then kicked him in his ankles. The attack caused the Jedi to stumble. 

That small moment was all that the Sith Lord needed. 

He leapt back onto his feet. His lightsaber swung quickly. 

The third Jedi collapsed onto the floor. 

Dead.

“Kark,” he shouted, his fists clenching. An angry cry quickly left him. He ran towards the Sith Lord. He thrust his lightsaber towards their exposed shoulder. The Sith Lord dodged the attack. 

Harry inhaled sharply. His anger stirred in his gut, flaring hotly. He stepped towards the Sith Lord, his lightsaber swinging. His movements were slowing down. He could feel a deep exhaustion creeping in. 

He spun his lightsaber downwards. A hand wrapped around his wrist. It stopped his attack. It held him tightly. 

Disturbed, he stared at the Sith Lord, his lips parting. He yanked on his wrist once. Twice. 

The Sith Lord didn’t release him. Instead, he gripped him harder, his fingers clenching, digging. Harry could feel his bones creaking under the pressure. 

A pained noise escaped him, its edges tinged with distress. 

The pressure around his wrist increased. It increased until he felt as though his wrist would snap. 

His lightsaber slipped from his fingers. It clattered down onto the floor noisily. 

No.

He yanked on his wrist again.

No.

The Sith Lord pulled him closer. His mask glided across Harry’s cheek. The silver metal was almost cool, refreshing. 

A lightsaber swung towards the Sith Lord. It narrowly missed him. The second Jedi jutted their weapon forward, preparing for another attack. The Sith Lord tilted their head. 

Harry was then thrown behind the Sith Lord. His knees scraped harshly along the metal floor, thin cuts blooming. He held back a pained grunt. His eyes searched for his lightsaber. 

He watched as the second Jedi and the Sith Lord fought. The second Jedi moved in an erratic way. The gash on the back of their head bled steadily. It dripped thick rivulets of blood. 

Silently, he crept towards his lightsaber. He avoided the battle. The second Jedi struck with an agile slash. The Sith Lord countered the blow. 

Harry darted away from the Sith Lord, flinching as the man stepped too close. He stayed low, inching across the floor. 

Yes.

His fingers wrapped tightly around his lightsaber. 

Finally. 

With a sharp hiss, he ignited his weapon. 

He then heard a raw scream. It rippled through the room. It rang with agony. 

His head whipped around. 

The other Jedi was dead. 

Harry was alone.

Quietly, he rose to his feet. His lightsaber flickered, its green light spitting tiny sparks. The first time he had truly seen Tom, the boy’s features had been cast in green—the glowing light that had come from Harry’s lightsaber. 

Tom had been so cautious—so warily suspicious of Harry and the Jedi Order. Harry had seen his behaviour as endearing. His Padawan had been so awkward. 

The memory caused his stomach to sink. He’d never get to see Tom again. 

He’d never get to hold him, his hands pulling him close. He’d lost so many years with Tom. He’d lost him because of one person. 

Harry took in a steadying breath. His eyes returned to the Sith Lord. 

He leapt towards him. 

His lightsaber collided with his. Green and red sparks scattered wildly. 

The energy in the room then shifted. He could no longer feel any hatred emanating from the Sith Lord. Instead, he felt an almost familiar nervousness. 

It was as though the Sith Lord didn’t want to fight him. 

A low growl escaped his throat. He slashed his lightsaber towards the Sith Lord’s shoulder—only to be met with an effective block. He swiftly swung for his shoulder again. 

The Sith Lord would be his. 

He didn’t have a choice. 

Harry’s eyes then caught on something useful. 

He smirked, his focus sharpening as he levitated the metal panel. The panel flew towards the Sith Lord’s neck. The Sith Lord ducked, the edge of his hood tearing. It sliced into an uneven piece, one that fluttered to the floor. 

The Sith Lord then leapt away from Harry. 

Harry followed him. He caught the Sith Lord mid-air with the Force. 

A thrill of power surged through his veins. He had the Sith Lord in his grasp . Smirking, he threw the Sith Lord onto the ground. A choked gasp left the man. It echoed in the room. 

Harry held his hand out. He’d show the man a proper choke. 

However, as he clenched his hand, the Sith Lord threw his lightsaber off to the side. He discarded his weapon. The action caused Harry to freeze. 

(Dumbledore smiled at him warmly. “A Jedi cannot kill an unarmed enemy,” he murmured, his voice genial. “It is a principle we must always abide by. We must protect the people of our universe. We shouldn’t kill unnecessarily.”

His master leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially, “I very much doubt you’d struggle with that principle. You have a good soul, my dear boy.”

A wide, excited smile bloomed on Harry’s face.) 

He stood still. 

The Sith Lord stared at him, curious. 

His fingers twitched. In one sudden movement, he began to choke the Sith Lord. The Force wrapped around his throat. It clenched and writhed. He exalted in the strained noises leaving the man’s lips. 

Harry stalked towards the Sith Lord. His lips spread in an unnatural smirk. He tightened his grip around the man’s throat. He’d drain the Sith Lord of life—

Harry was then shoved with the Force. His limbs flailed angrily as he was hauled across the floor. He kicked his legs, cursing wildly, “Kriff! You absolute pile of shaak shit! You’ll pay… I’ll kill you! Kark you!” 

The Sith Lord hugged him. 

Harry froze. 

His eyes widened as he was pulled close. Warm hands slid across his back. A head tucked under his chin. He knew the position had to be uncomfortable. The Sith Lord was larger than him. 

However, as the seconds dragged on, the man nestled closer, curling in Harry’s lap like a tooka-cat. A gloved hand stroked Harry’s cheek. 

Harry blinked nervously. “Krag you,” he said, his voice quiet and unsure. 

The Sith Lord reached towards his mask. The metal clasps were undone. Slowly, the mask was removed, revealing the Sith Lord’s face. 

His heart thudded wildly in his chest. Tears burned in his eyes. He blearily shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “you’re not real. I know that you’re not real. This is all in my head. I’ve gone mad.”

Lips ghosted across his forehead. The touch was devastatingly gentle. It caused his cheeks to burn. 

Teary-eyed, he glanced at his Padawan. The expression Tom had was soft. His eyes were hazy. His cheeks were like a ripe peach, flushed a delicate pink. 

Harry fought back his tears. “You’re not real. You can’t be here.”

Another kiss landed on his forehead. Tom sighed, his lips trailing sensually. “They told you that I was dead. I didn’t think they’d do that. I thought they’d come to a different conclusion.” 

A thumb swiped along the corner of Harry’s lips. Tom smiled secretly, whispering, “I thought they’d realise that I was the Sith Lord.” 

Harry shook his head again. 

“The council wanted to separate us. The council wanted me to graduate—to become a full Jedi Knight. I was told that I’d travel to Quatrith alone and complete my Jedi Trial there. I could barely even stand while they spoke. You were gone on Florrum, and I was feverish, sick.”

Harry squinted, his heart clenching. He finally took in his Padawan’s appearance. Tom’s eyes were no longer an umber brown. They had shifted into another colour. 

“Once my trial was complete, I would have been stationed on Quatrith permanently. I’d be that planet’s guardian. I’d never see you again, not really. It was a trap—a ploy to keep us apart.”

The hatred in Tom’s eyes flared brighter, malignant. His skin was a shade paler. He looked almost sickly. 

“I refused their mockery, their sham of a Jedi Trial. I then had no choice but to leave Coruscant.”

Tom’s lips slid downwards, trailing lightly across Harry’s neck. He sighed against the flushed skin, his lips curling. 

“The Holocron Vault held forbidden knowledge that helped me on my journey, tales and teachings about the dark side. I’ve gained knowledge, master—knowledge that can keep you safe. We’ll stay together forever.” 

Tom’s eyes no longer held specks of maroon. Instead, his eyes burned a vicious red. His eyes held the same fiery glow as his lightsaber. 

A sharp pain twisted in Harry’s chest. 

Tom's lightsaber.  

His Padawan had bled his lightsaber. He had poured all his hatred inside his lightsaber, corrupting its once magnificent blue to an abhorrent red. 

He could still remember the joy on Tom’s face, the wonder as he had first received his lightsaber. Tom had been so young. He had been so small and unsure of everything. 

Slowly, Harry reached towards Tom. His fingers teased along his soft flesh, the flesh of his cheek. Tom’s skin was cool to the touch. It was refreshing. 

A frown tugged at Harry’s lips. 

“Ah, you’ve noticed my eyes,” Tom said proudly, his teeth glinting. “Most Sith receive yellow eyes upon exploring the dark side. It is the most common and documented colour.”

Tom’s voice lowered, releasing in a teasing breath, “Red eyes are rare. I’ve always been special. I’ve always been destined for greatness. Plain brown eyes would’ve never suited me.” 

“They were yours,” Harry whispered, devastated. His chest ached, breaking. He’d never get to see swathes of sunlight gleaming—reflecting in Tom’s eyes again. He’d never get to see that tender warmth. 

A small noise left Harry. His nails dug into Tom’s cheek. Disoriented, he leaned towards Tom, his forehead resting against his.

Tom’s eyelashes fluttered, his lips tilting. A flush rose into his cheeks. “I’ve never seen that side of you before, master,” he said, breathless. His next breath came out stuttered. “You were so vicious. I’d be alright with you choking me again.”

A wave of horror crashed over Harry. He tumbled backwards. He shoved Tom in the chest, hard. Tom attempted to follow him. He crooned and reached out again. 

Harry’s shoulders shook. “We had a funeral for you,” he murmured. “You’re not real. You’re an illusion. You’re an awful trick.”

He clutched his head. “Y-You’re a Sith Lord! You killed countless Jedi. M-My relatives—”

“—They’re not your family!” Tom hissed, his voice indignant. A growl rumbled in his throat. “I’m your family.” 

Harry’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t comprehend Tom’s words. He couldn’t comprehend anything.  

His Padawan was dead. 

His Padawan was a Sith Lord.

A thousand truths were unravelling and forming in his mind. 

“I travelled to Alderaan to visit your homeworld. I wanted to see what you had loved about the planet, its serene beauty,” Tom said, his voice bitter. A sneer was distorting his face. It wrinkled his attractive features. It soured him. 

An unnatural, snarling noise tore from Tom’s throat. “The Dursleys,” he growled, his teeth snapping. “They purposefully never reported you to the Jedi Order. They knew that you had a gift, but they kept that knowledge from you. If they'd had their way, you never would’ve become—”

“—What’s done is done,” he said hastily, his voice curt, dismissive. His eyes then slowly became distant. A tiny, trembling breath left him, hopeful as he whispered, “You’re alive. You’re actually here with me.” 

A tender softness settled on Tom’s face. His Padawan touched him, his finger brushing under Harry’s chin. He tilted his head up, their eyes meeting.  “I’d never leave you. You’re mine.”

A small, sly smirk spread slowly across Tom’s face. He teasingly leaned in close, hissing, “I watched you while you were on Quatrith.” 

Harry blinked slowly. 

“What.”

A deep chuckle left his Padawan. Tom smiled secretly, his eyes gleaming. “I kept track of you even while we were apart, master,” he said softly, his voice an affectionate croon. “I noted what planets you visited. I followed you to Quatrith.” 

“There was no reason for you to visit that backwater planet,” Tom hissed in disgust. “Your presence on Quatrith concerned me. However, as I followed you, I realized I had no reason to be concerned.”

Harry cursed under his breath. Exasperated, he hissed, “Kriff, Tom. No Jedi has ever been stalked by their Padawan before! I never would’ve done that to my master.” 

Instead of the fierce wave of anger Harry expected, Tom only smiled at him. His finger traced along Harry’s jaw, gentle and slow.

“We’re different, aren’t we?” Tom asked, his voice low. “We’re not like other Jedi. Our relationship has always been special. We’re attached to one another.” 

Harry nodded, his breath soft. He leaned in close to Tom. An aching warmth bloomed between them. His nose bumped against Tom’s, brushing tenderly. 

The next breath he took was shared with Tom. 

“We’re such good friends,” Harry whispered, smiling. His cheeks went warm with heat. He could feel his insides tingling. 

Tom’s lips slid across his cheek, gliding slowly along his flesh. The touch sent sparks racing through Harry. In an intimate, sweet voice, Tom murmured, “We’re such good friends.” 

The joy in Harry’s heart overflowed. His lips spread apart in a wide smile. He beamed brilliantly, his insides fluttering. “You’re alive,” he breathed, his lips brushing along the corner of Tom’s lips, touching lightly. “You’re beside me again.” 

The world disappeared. It was blurred into nothingness. He could only see the pale planes of Tom’s skin. 

His lips slid apart. A stuttered breath left him. 

Tom was kissing him.  

The kiss was warm and soft. It was the gentlest touch that Harry had ever received. 

A tongue then swept over his lip. It teased him, coaxing him open, and Harry was lost. He was lost to the warmth of Tom’s touch. Lost to their searing kiss, which grew in its intensity—deep and devouring. 

His glasses became lopsided. The metal frames dug into his skin. The pinch was painful—irritating, but not enough to break their kiss. Harry laughed wetly. He smiled as Tom kissed him insistently.

A wet sheen clung to his lips. It glistened as Tom licked him again. 

In one shy, hesitant movement, Harry slid his tongue inside Tom’s mouth. He explored the wet space, his cheeks burning with shame. He had never kissed anyone before. He had no idea what he was doing. 

What he was doing was wrong. 

Harry wrenched himself away from Tom. A wet smack echoed through the room. His lips were flushed, rosily pink as he panted. He wearily shook his head. 

He reached up to touch his glasses. He adjusted them, his hands shaking. “W-We need to get away from Alderaan. The Jedi Council will come here. They’ll come here for you… us. We’ll be hunted down—”

Tom dove towards him again. 

Harry planted his hands on Tom’s chest, pushing him away uselessly. “We’re friends, not, uh… anything else! We’re not supposed to touch one another, Tom,” he guiltily bit his lip. “We’re friends, right? You’re my Padawan. I have to take care of you! It’d be wrong for us to—” 

Tom shook his head. He leaned heavily against Harry. “We’re more than friends. We’ve always been more, master,” he sighed longingly. His eyes were terribly soft. His bitten lips were parting, carmine and swollen, whispering, “Let me make love to you.” 

A fierce blush swiftly spread across Harry’s cheeks. It crawled towards his ears, reddening them into an embarrassed colour, the hue of freshly crushed cherries. 

His mind spun, threatening to veer in a dozen directions. 

He must’ve done something to Tom. It was the only explanation. Harry must’ve been a creep. 

He had behaved inappropriately on Zygerria. His behaviour there must’ve manipulated Tom. It must’ve twisted his mind. 

A thousand memories ran through his mind, memories of him touching his Padawan. The guilt in his chest steadily grew. 

Harry buried his face into his hands, trembling. 

His Padawan was alive. Tom was actually alive. He could touch his Padawan again. He could hold him. 

He’d have his friend beside him as he aged. He wouldn't grow old alone. 

Harry opened his lips, his breath hitching, only for an unsteady croak to escape.

He wanted to kiss Tom again. 

The Force clouded around him. It swirled in heavy streams of shame. 

His wrists were then grabbed and pulled away from his face. Possessive red eyes bore into him, trailing across his flesh. Tom leaned in close. His breath ghosted against Harry’s skin.

A soft kiss then landed on Harry’s forehead. The loving touch made him feel dizzy. Weak. Tom then gave him another kiss, one right above his eyebrow. The next kiss fell on his chin. 

Deliberately gentle kisses were peppered—scattered along his skin. His thoughts became slow and sluggish. He couldn’t think about the morality of what they were doing. He couldn’t think about the fact that Tom was a Sith Lord.

The only thing that mattered was that Tom was alive. His Padwan was with him. His Padawan loved him.  

A soft moan spilled out of Harry. It dripped into the warm space between them. 

Tom crawled on top of him. His high cheekbones were tinged an ardent red. “You’re mine, master,” he whispered, his voice gentle. 

Harry laughed happily as warm lips kissed him. He pushed his tongue inside Tom’s mouth. He pressed close to his Padawan, his hips jutting forward. 

He could feel Tom removing their robes. The smooth fabric was pooling onto the floor, spreading into a makeshift blanket, gathered softly beneath them. A knee slid in-between his legs. Harry rolled his hips forward towards Tom’s knee. 

It felt incredible. 

A wanton gasp left him. His hips rocked urgently. He felt amazing. His cock was twitching, its head flushed and dripping with pre-cum. 

A pair of warm hands then landed on his hips. “Yes, master,” Tom hissed, encouraging him. His teeth locked onto Harry’s ear, nibbling on the delicate flesh. “You’re gorgeous. You look so good on my knee.”

The pressure was incredible. Teary-eyed, Harry nodded. He bit down on his lip, muffling his soft, breathy gasps. He humped Tom’s leg until the last of his robes fell away. 

The air had a slight chill to it. His hairs swiftly rose. 

He was completely exposed. Harry curled in on himself, an embarrassed flush travelling across his skin. 

No one had ever seen him naked before. 

His stomach writhed with discomfort. 

Tom quickly kissed him. His lips silenced Harry’s doubts. “You’re so beautiful, master,” he murmured. “You’re everything to me. You took me out of a dark place… and you gave me light. You gave me life.”

Warm kisses trailed across Harry’s neck. Tom’s lips then traveled down to his navel. Harry squirmed, flustered as he felt Tom kissing his stomach. His toes curled. “Ah, Tom! We shouldn’t, uh, t-touch one another. We should—”

Tom’s lips wrapped around his cock. He quickly bobbed his head once. Twice. 

Harry threw his head back, gasping. His nerves exploded with heat. He felt as though he was the sun. Light dripped from his fingertips. Flares fell from his tongue. His insides burned.

Each stroke of Tom’s tongue was teasingly light. He lapped at Harry’s cock like a tooka-cat. It was maddening.  

He glanced down at his cock, ashamed as Tom’s tongue swiped along his slit. The blush on his face darkened. He couldn’t imagine that his Padawan felt good. It had to be uncomfortable, the trickling of pre-cum into his mouth. 

Tears welled in Harry’s eyes. He reached towards Tom and grabbed onto his shoulders. He gently shook his Padawan, nervous as he whispered, “You shouldn’t have to do that.” 

Slowly, Tom raised his eyebrow. His lips twisted into an indulgent, teasing smile, sly as he licked him again. Tom then kissed the head of Harry’s cock. It was obscene. It was beyond anything Harry could’ve ever imagined. He never thought that he’d ever have sex. 

A tongue then swept over the underside of his cock. His pre-cum was lapped away, licked as though it were heavenly drops of ambrosia. 

Tom then reached inside his pocket. Slowly, he revealed a small vial, a vial filled with a clear liquid. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. Blinking, he tilted his head, asking softly, “What’s that?”

Tom smiled, his hands sliding firmly over Harry’s thighs. He petted the flushed skin. Harry squirmed, flustered as his Padawan pulled him closer. He instinctively wrapped his legs around Tom’s waist.

He wanted to be close to his Padawan.  

A desperate noise escaped him. Wordlessly, he tilted his head back—asking, pleading for another kiss. 

Tom kissed him without hesitation. His lips stole Harry’s breath away, his tongue slipping inside him, warm and wet. Harry leaned into the kiss. His eyelashes fluttered. 

A finger then slipped inside him. Harry jolted, terrified as he felt the foreign digit move . His hips wiggled anxiously. 

He had never had anything inside his body before. He had never even thought about having anything inside him. 

“D’you know what you’re doing?” Harry asked softly, his voice concerned. His hips then naturally shifted downwards onto Tom’s finger. He let out an obscene gasp.

Oh.

It actually felt kind of good.  

Tom smirked. “I know what I’m doing, master.”

He pumped another finger inside him. Harry keened. He rolled back onto Tom’s fingers. The digits were curling inside him, their movements torturously slow. His Padawan was taking his time. Tom was enjoying unravelling his master.  

A third finger entered him. Harry arched, his hips cantering into the air. The softest gasps kept leaving his lips, tiny, breathless noises. Disoriented, he humped Tom’s hand—hips rolling languidly. He felt really good. 

“A-Ah, Tom,” he gasped, his thighs trembling. Flustered, he bit down on his lip, the flesh tinted an amaranth pink. He keened again. “F-Feels good, hngh. Never thought that I’d ever… not as a Jedi—never.” 

Tom’s fingers then abruptly left him, leaving Harry empty inside. His eyes widened as he glanced up at his Padawan. “W-Why did you stop? Are we finished?” he asked, his lips curling into a small smile. That was alright. It was more than alright. 

He’d just experienced more pleasure than he ever thought he’d feel. He was grateful for whatever time he got with Tom. 

“We should consider abandoning the ship,” he said thoughtfully. “The high-powered cruiser will be too easy for the council to track down, its large and expensive—” 

The head of Tom’s cock then poked at his entrance. 

Harry’s mouth fell open, horrified as he stared at Tom’s dick. “W-Wait, Tom,” he gasped, his legs kicking. “You’re not going to fit inside me! You’ll break me! That thing is a blaster—”

Teeth latched onto his neck. Tom lightly bit him. He kissed him. He dragged his teeth over Harry’s sensitive skin, marring the soft, heated flesh purple.  

Harry sighed. He squirmed as Tom’s tongue swirled over his bitten skin, reassuring him with every slow lick. 

His Padawan then sank deep inside him. He buried his cock inside his master—all the way to the hilt. Sparks of pleasure exploded in Harry’s navel. He threw his head back, gasping. 

He hiccuped. His thighs spasmed as he jolted forward. Pre-cum slid down his length. His cock bobbed enticingly, swaying as Tom pounded inside him. He felt feverish. Sick. 

Tom had a wild gleam in his eyes. His cheeks were an ardent red. Sweat shone on his face. He appeared almost feral as he drove inside Harry. A wet curl kept bouncing against his forehead. Harry wanted to tug on it—

Everything lit up at once. Harry’s spine arched as his Padawan struck something deep within him. 

Tom then stilled. A devilish smirk twisted across his face, pleased as he whispered, “Is that where you need me?” His breath ghosted against Harry’s ear. “You’d like that, wouldn't you?” 

A wave of pleasure rushed through Harry’s veins. Delirious, he hiccuped, sobbing as his cock throbbed. His eyes were wet as he murmured, “You’re so warm inside me, Tom. Your dick feels so big.” 

The grin on Tom’s face was terrifying. 

“Yes, master,” he crooned. 

His Padawan then jutted his hips forward. He rolled them purposefully. Slowly, he hissed, “It grew up with the rest of me.” 

Harry’s insides recoiled at Tom’s words. Yes—he was having sex with his Padawan. He was whining on his cock. He was welcoming its heat, eagerly rolling back on the thick length. 

Tears gleamed in his eyes. He moaned, devastated as Tom thrust into him again. 

A loud whine slipped past his lips. His eyes rolled back into his head. He felt so warm and weak. He could barely move. 

Warm lips slid on top of his. Tom swallowed his every noise, each shaky gasp that spilled past his lips. His moans came out muffled, smothered between their lips. 

“You’re so gorgeous, master,” Tom slurred, his lips pressing— nudging insistently. “I know you can take more. You love me, don’t you? You love me more than anyone.” 

Tom kissed him again, his tongue licking Harry’s lips with ardour. Every touch was worshipful, reverent. Tom clearly adored him.

His speed then increased. His cock slammed inside him, carving its way in deep. 

A tightness coiled in Harry’s navel. His lips spread apart, gasping, “I-I’m going to… ah, inside, Tom!” 

His very being climaxed as he came onto his stomach. 

His body trembled from the pleasure. His fingers dug uselessly into their discarded robes. He let out an overwhelmed gasp. 

Tom then came inside him. His hands stroked Harry’s hips as he pushed in deep. Harry had never felt so full before. He felt stuffed to the brim. 

His Padawan placed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. His lips lingered, sliding gently. He then wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and lifted him off the ground. He turned him, settling him firmly in his lap. 

Harry leaned back onto Tom’s chest, his lips parting in a quiet, satisfied sigh. His hips jolted. Tom’s cock was still inside him. It was keeping him full. Wet. 

He could feel a distinct warmth coming from his Padawan. It was comforting. It eased the aches already building in his back. He shouldn't have trained so hard. 

Quietly, he threw his head back, resting it on Tom’s shoulder. Tom quickly kissed him. He kissed him until Harry became dizzy. 

With a low chuckle, Tom broke their kiss. His lips trailed across Harry’s ear, whispering slowly, “We’re not done yet, master.” 

The Force surged through him. It ignited his blood and sent his nerves racing. 

“Please, Tom,” he whined, his hips twitching. “You’ll ruin me. We shouldn’t, hngh!”  

His cock was quickly becoming erect again. It stood timidly against his stomach, its skin flushed an apricot pink. He dragged his teeth across his lip, biting shyly. 

“You’ll be alright, master,” Tom whispered. His eyes were bright with mischief. He had a small smile on his face, a sly, teasing thing. “I’ll make you feel nothing but pleasure. You’ll come again and again.” 

His grip on Harry’s hips tightened. The Force then assisted Tom, helping him as he lifted Harry. 

A hushed breath left his lips, low as he whispered, “You’ve never thought about sex before. You've always been the dutiful Jedi. You’ve been so obedient.” 

The lips brushing along Harry’s ear twisted into a wicked smirk. 

“I’ll be your master tonight. Let me enlighten you.”

His Padawan then dropped him. He dropped him onto his cock. 

Stars exploded in front of him. His vision swam. 

“A-Ah, Tom!” he shouted, his voice cracking. A moan bubbled past his lips. It frothed and spilled into the space between them. Gasping, he rolled back onto Tom’s cock. 

Thick swathes of desire were clouding his mind, blurring the teachings that the council had given him. He felt dizzy. Numb.  

Tom guided him gently, helping Harry to bounce on top of him. His insides clung onto Tom’s cock, squeezing him in a vice-like grip. 

A low chuckle sounded near his ear. His next breath came out as a purr. “Always the perfect little Jedi,” Tom crooned. 

Harry shuddered. His lips fell open with a needy sigh. 

He reached back and grabbed onto Tom’s shoulder. Teary-eyed, he murmured proudly, “You’re such a good boy.”

His Padawan stilled.  

“What did you say?”

Harry’s lips split apart into a lopsided smile. “You’re inside me. Fillin’ me up. Such a good boy.”

It was over for Harry as soon as he uttered those words. 

Tom snarled viciously, his hips rising—slamming against Harry’s. “Say that again. Repeat yourself.”

“You’re such— hngh, good boy! Mhmn —good—boy!”

His Padawan clawed at his chest. He drew blood as he raked his nails repeatedly. His teeth sank into Harry’s neck. He sucked hickeys onto the exposed skin. 

Tom lifted Harry into the air. He slammed him down on his cock.

Harry let out an excited gasp. 

Tom’s touch was divine. It was everything bright and good. 

Shuddering praises fell from his mouth. He babbled endlessly. 

“T-Too big! Mhmn —good boy! Y-You’re mine! P-Perfect love, all mine. Ah! Raised you, taught you—” 

“—Do you love me?” 

The question was asked softly. Tom spoke in an almost nervous voice. 

There was only one answer.

Yes.

Harry nodded his head. 

He had always loved Tom. His love had just changed over time.

Everything then disappeared as their lips met. It was warm, perfect—everything a kiss was meant to be. 

He loved his Padawan.

He loved him so much.

Deft fingers tangled in his hair. “I’ll protect you, master,” Tom whispered, his voice desperate. “I’ve seen too many visions of your death. But you won’t die. You’ll never die. I’ll always save you. The dark side has given me that much.”

His eyes flared with madness. “We’ll be together forever.”

Harry blinked slowly at his Padawan. 

He knew what he had to do. 

He swiftly tilted his head to kiss Tom. He sucked on his lower lip. 

His love could bring Tom back from the dark side. It was the only thing that could. 

Tom wouldn’t listen to anyone except Harry. His master was the only one that mattered to him. It had always been that way. 

He knew that he could have a profound influence on Tom. He could change his Padawan for the better. He had to change him. 

Tom would have his eyes again, those warm pools of brown. He’d be Harry’s once more. He’d be human again.

Their kiss broke with a shared sigh. Green eyes met red. The love between them burned fiercely. 

Harry and Tom wouldn't return to the Jedi Temple. They’d explore the galaxy beside one another.

They’d be together forever

It was what was always meant to be.

He’d travel with Tom and restore the light within him.

“We’ll never be apart again,” he sighed tenderly, his lips sliding close—brushing along Tom’s. “We’ll love each other on Naboo, Kashyyyk—anywhere in the galaxy you want.” 

“You promise?” Tom asked softly. 

“I promise.”

It was a promise that held true for the ages.

It was one that never broke.