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Author	Topic: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace" - Replies 30/01
JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 1/26/07 5:41am Subject: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace" - Replies 30/01 - Date Edited: 1/30/07 10:29am (2 edits total) Edited By: JediNemesis
	Cover art [done by the author] Title: Mercy Upon Your Soul Author: JediNemesis from an idea by VaderLVR64 Genre: AU. Drama. Angst. I have no idea. Era: post-Betrayal Characters: Mara Jade; Jacen Solo; Luke Skywalker; Ben Skywalker (sort of) This is a sequel of sorts to VaderLVR's extraordinary post-Betrayal AU here, which started its life as Finding Peace and has since been retitled My Face Toward Vengeance. I would encourage you to read this first, as while Mercy Upon Your Soul stands reasonably well alone, VL's story sets up this one in a way my rubbishy little notes can't. Summary: Three years have passed since My Face Towards Vengeance and Mara Jade has tracked down the man who murdered her son . . . A/N: I couldn't have written this if Vadey hadn't had the marvellous AU idea, and I couldn't have posted it without her kind permission. So thanks on two counts, VL. DISCLAIMER: Universe belongs to George Lucas, the post-ROTJ characters to their respective creators. The idea for the AU belongs to VaderLVR. No money has changed hands at any stage. I sit on a block of rubble, hands in my lap. Suddenly he is there, fading out of the long shadows cast by the setting sun. He has come, then, drawn by curiosity or the desire to cause more hurt than he already has. He looks the same as he always did, and for a moment I am transported back to a world where Jacen Solo was not my responsibility. A world where I had a husband who loved me, and a son who would have died for me. I fill my mind with the lie I lured him here with, until only the whiteness of my knuckles around the hilt of my lightsaber reminds me of the truth. “Mara.” he says, almost formally. I close my eyes, hating the taste of my name in his mouth. Let him dare say the name of my son, the name he has defiled by his mere survival, and I will kill him without even the tiny mercies I intend. I open my eyes onto a world that has shrunk around me, until it contains only myself and him. I stand, and spread my arms a little. He has not moved. “I forgive you, Jacen,” I say softly, and am astonished that the sun does not blink out of existence at the enormity of the falsehood. Only the flicker of his eyes betrays the shock reeling through him. I feel every whisper of it, and let the lie vanish like the mist it was. My lightsaber is in my hand, blazing, and I lunge for him. Jacen uses his blade with the swiftness and sureness of one through whom the Dark Side flows as freely as his blood, and still - still - I drive him back. I am old. But my son is with me, sustaining me with his own powers after death even as he did before his birth, and his unquiet spirit guides my hand. There is desperation written on Jacen’s face now, sweat beading as he struggles to match with the Dark Side the fury of a mother bereft. At last he misjudges his footing, and falls, the lightsaber skittering from his hand like a creature that knows its master is soon to die. And then he reaches out with one hand and pulls the light from the sky. Lightning is the last thing I see before I crumple. In the caverns of my mind I can hear Ben screaming. My son, screaming as the life bleeds out of him. I scream too, in some dimension I am only dimly aware of, in frustration as much as in pain. This is not how it must be! The lightning cuts off, and I open my eyes in time to see Jacen shudder as if a shock has run through him. “Get up.” The voice is contemptuous, harsh, dripping with a hatred that is not anger but disgust. And it is addressed not to me but to Jacen. Luke steps over me as if I were not there. Once more his Force presence burns, and I can feel his revulsion as if it were my own. I raise my head and look after him, to where he is standing over Jacen with his shoulders rigid. His hair is almost white now, he is thinner, and he was never tall, but he towers over Jacen like an avenging angel. Jacen flinches away from him, and I feel long-unused muscles creak as I smile for the first time in four years. I wanted to kill him, but now I no longer care as long as he is dead. I will see it happen, and that will be enough. But instead Luke lets him scramble to his feet, and the smile fades. Jacen goes for his lightsaber - Luke does not do him the honour of drawing his own weapon. Instead he thrusts out his right hand and Jacen is thrown backwards by a torrent of the Force even I can feel. As if in a dream I hear the dull wet crack as his spine meets the half-broken wall behind, and something like a whisper at his Force presence blinking out like a candle between two fingers. Dead, or soon to be. For all that my throat is too dry, too hot, to make as much as a syllable I want to laugh, to sing, to call out to Ben across the long gulf of death and time and show him the broken body of the man who killed him. Luke turns to me, and I fold myself into his arms as he helps me up. For a long time we stand together, relearning what it is like to be so close. For three years I have heard the absence where his heartbeat should be, and woken up shivering at the empty space beside me. “You followed me.” I whisper into his chest. I feel him nod, and then feel as well as hear the sound as he replies gently “I couldn’t let you go alone.” In his voice I hear the Luke I fell in love with, and in the Force I feel the echoes of a warmth that drew me away from the dark. It cannot be so perfect all at once. Surely it cannot. The Force is too cruel. As I am reminded when Luke runs his hand through my hair and says quietly “He will live to stand trial.” I pull away from him and stumble away. I want to cry, but the same constriction that would not let me speak has made my face too hard and hot for tears. Regardless of the ironclad laws that the New Republic has passed against the Sith, Jacen is Luke’s nephew and pupil, and Luke’s word carries more weight than a dozen juries. He must know this. He must know that if his word is for life, Jacen will live. How can he shame our son’s memory so? Luke catches up with me just as I am on the point of falling. I clutch at his arm for support, and then pull away when I realise what I have done. * * * I know towards the end of the trial that they will never break him. His face is expressionless, his answers flat and unyielding. Against my will I find myself admiring him, admiring the adamant resolve not to submit to his captors, even if to do so would save his life. The presiding judge is a droid dealing in technicalities of law only: in such a serious case they prefer that the sentencer, at least, should have no capacity for emotion. When it invites Leia Skywalker to add to the closing speeches it is an unexpected move, not compulsory under law, and my fists clench as I look across the courtroom at Luke. He is with his sister today, his arm tight around her shoulders as Jacen’s fate is decided. Only Luke could have slipped such an unorthodoxy into the droid’s mind. I know it, and he knows I know it. As I stare at him, he looks away. Leia rises, her hands trembling on the rail in front of her, and then the all-too-human form of the wife and mother is gone. In her place is Leia Organa Skywalker Solo, princess-in-exile of Alderaan, former leader of the New Republic, and queenly now she is grey-haired as she ever was in her youth. I recognise the sorrow in her face as a mirror of my own: she too lost a son in the flower of his youth. The other, the elder, was lost to her too soon after. The man standing in the dock is no more her son than the fragile skeleton in a faraway grave is mine. In her clear voice, she says flatly “I have nothing to add.” And as he hears those words, Jacen Solo closes his eyes. I let the triumph flood my mind, secure in the knowledge that he is going to his death. They find him guilty. Of course they find him guilty. Luke takes Leia away, and does not speak to me as they leave the court. I can feel my son with me, holding me close and whispering to me that it is time to come back to him. But there is one more thing I must do first, for my own peace of mind as much for Ben’s; I ask for and am given permission to be present at the end. How much of a part the Force played in the officials’ acquiescence I will not say. The supervising droid informs him that Mara Jade Skywalker has offered to witness his termination, and asks if he would prefer me to leave. He shakes his head: no. And then the droid enquires politely if he has any last request. At that he looks up. His eyes meet mine, and I am shaken by what I see there. I feel the universe falling away from around me as it did when I prepared to fight him, leaving the cosmos shrunk down to a bubble centred on the point where our gazes meet. He is powerful beyond measure. I can see that now. He nods his confirmation to the droid, then whispers “Give me the Jedi blessing.” I have to clutch at the wall-rail to keep from falling. Suddenly it feels as if half my self has been stripped away, leaving only a desolate silence where there was once purpose. I do not want to have to forgive him; I want to be able to glory in it, to see him die either silent and unrepentant or pleading for his life. Either would see justice served. For a moment I feel cold fingers around my heart, an uncertainty that shames me. I think of my son, dead under skies not his own by the hand of a man he trusted, and I find the cold fury to let me move. I kneel, lay my hand on Jacen’s shoulder, and look him in the eye. He will know with the certainty afforded to the dying that I do not mean a word of what I say. “Go swiftly.” I rise. “And may the Force have mercy upon your soul.” * * * I return to my room alone, and sitting on the narrow bed I feel the emptiness choking me. For three years Jacen Solo has been the only reason I am alive. For three years my son has waited for me, and I have denied him. Now it is done, nothing keeps me here. I can join my fallen son without shame. I can hear voices in the corridor, and steps. Luke will know by now that I witnessed Jacen die. Let him know. He will be too late. I’m coming to you, Ben. I’m coming home. Wait for me. This is a marked departure from the eras I usually write in. Feedback is eagerly encouraged Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Lightning and Diamonds - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29251762 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 1/26/07 5:59am Subject: RE: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace"
	You know how much I LOVE this. It is absolutely stunning. And no matter what ending I might have contemplated for my vignette, this certainly trumps it! Nothing I could have written would have equaled the power and beauty of this. Ever. I think of my son, dead under skies not his own by the hand of a man he trusted, and I find the cold fury to let me move. I kneel, lay my hand on Jacen’s shoulder, and look him in the eye. He will know with the certainty afforded to the dying that I do not mean a word of what I say. “Go swiftly.” I rise. “And may the Force have mercy upon your soul.” * * * I return to my room alone, and sitting on the narrow bed I feel the emptiness choking me. For three years Jacen Solo has been the only reason I am alive. For three years my son has waited for me, and I have denied him. Now it is done, nothing keeps me here. I can join my fallen son without shame. I can hear voices in the corridor, and steps. Luke will know by now that I witnessed Jacen die. Let him know. He will be too late. I’m coming to you, Ben. I’m coming home. Wait for me. Whoa. This is the way it should happen in this AU. Exactly. -----signature----- Someone who loves me carries an M16. My baby boy wears combat boots.
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Arin_Atona Registered: Jul '04	Date Posted: 1/26/07 7:41am Subject: RE: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace"
	Wow, so angsty! It's close to being overkill, but you walk the line close enough that it comes off nicely. Luke putting the Jedi pimp-slap on Jacen was a riot. -----signature----- On the Shoulders of Giants http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=23575110 From the Empire, With Love http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=26258118
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Healer_Leona Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 1/27/07 5:38am Subject: RE: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace"
	Oh my, that is so wrought with pain and angst... I can't help but feel the worst for poor Mara. Brilliantly done Nem. -----signature----- To me, you're strange and you're beautiful, You'd be so perfect with me but you just can't see, You turn every head but you don't see me.
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JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 1/30/07 10:28am Subject: RE: Mercy Upon Your Soul - post-Betrayal AU - sequel vig to VL's "Finding Peace"
	Hi guys Vadey Once again I'm so glad you let me post it. You know how much I LOVE this. It is absolutely stunning. Thanks so much! And no matter what ending I might have contemplated for my vignette, this certainly trumps it! Nothing I could have written would have equaled the power and beauty of this. Ever. That can't possibly be right But I'm immensely flattered that you think this is an appropriate and worthy follow-on to Vengeance. Thanks again Arin_Atona Wow, so angsty! It's close to being overkill, but you walk the line close enough that it comes off nicely. Thanks; yes, I have to say I really went for the angst. The original is pretty angsty too although I think VL handles it better Luke putting the Jedi pimp-slap on Jacen was a riot. There's an argument that's cropped up several times in the SWC Jedi Draft: is Luke the greatest Jedi ever? My vote goes to yes, he is. And he's certainly better than Jacen, even superpowered-timetravelling-monster-Jacen. Thanks for clicking! Leona Oh my, that is so wrought with pain and angst... I can't help but feel the worst for poor Mara. I did my best to stick to the tone and characterisations VL set up; I'm glad the angst came through On the other hand, it's interesting you feel Mara is the sympathetic one - I think she comes off a bit psychotic . . . Mind you, yes, she's suffered unimaginably. Brilliantly done Nem. Thanks so much Thanks everyone! Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Lightning and Diamonds - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29251762 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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