Private Necessary Steps Towards Light

[Everest Vale]

A soft afternoon light leaked through the half-draped window to Everest Vale's dormitory, refracting against particles of dust that hung in the air, making it look like a field of tiny stars. The room was still and silent, a first, thin layer of dust beginning to form along the surfaces and corners of the room, and one would be fooled into thinking it had been entirely unoccupied for several days. But in truth, Everest had yet to leave since returning from her last off-world excursion with Master Noble.

The experiences on Jedha had left a deep, solemn mark on the young Echani Padawan. She sat in silence on her bed, barely clothed, arms wrapped around her legs and the thick mess of her silver hair frizzed and draped about her face. Dull eyes alternated from tightly closed to flickering about room aimlessly, as flashing memories of the witch-cursed world haunted her relentlessly. The shadows in ice and snow, the heaving black, tar-like nightmares, gaping maws and dripping teeth. She couldn't get it out of her head.

Eve's datapad pinged, its soft, flashing blue light spilling into the dim room as a message autoplayed. It was from Master Noble, inviting her to her personal chambers at her earliest convenience. Her voice filled the room, kind and warm as it so often was. It repeated several times on its own until the Echani finally moved from her statue-like stillness to switch it off. The room was suddenly returned to its sharp silence and dull half-light, and Eve suddenly found herself crying.

How could she face Master Noble now, being so weak and defeated? Her mind dwelled on her own helpless inadequacy. Her arms squeezed her knees tighter.

But the images of the Sithspawn nightmares that plagued her had now been replaced by the warm face of Master Noble, smiling at her in the way she had done when first they met. Her mood seemed to lift gradually, as if she was being pulled slowly, firmly from a swamp that had stopped her in her tracks. Then it was as if a light had turned on again in her, and her glazed eyes blinked, and blinked again, as a soft breath escaped her involuntarily.

The room was unkempt, as was she, and there was a musty smell around the place. She slowly crept off her bed, stretching slowly, taking several long, nourishing breathes, and let her presence within the room settle in normalcy. How long had she been stuck in such a stasis? The days had melted away from her. She gave herself the time to wash, her mind suddenly focused on seeing Master Noble once more. It had felt like a long time, and she desperately needed to talk to someone about Jedha. Only she would understand.

Quietly, she pushed open her dorm door, squinting from the sudden brightness that spilled into the room. The Temple seemed as peaceful as ever, a beacon of stability as always. She breathed slowly and intentionally, her hands held humbly together, as she started slowly making her way to Master Noble's chambers. Nerves rose with her heartbeat as she got closer, and she found doubt and hesitation creeping in again. Was she really in a worthy state for the Master to see her? She shook her head and pressed on, the journey seeming like a succession of photos to her awareness, the regular movement of time turned into dreamlike flashes, until she reached the great doors.

Her eyes caught her own reflection against a polished durasteel wall, and she could see the heavy bags under her eyes, the partially made-up hair that struggled to hide its frizzy mess. She looked exhausted, felt exhausted, and pangs of hunger had set in now she had made her body move again. But she breathed in deep, and pressed a finger against the ringer.

Valery Noble​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Soft footsteps moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm across the quiet room. Valery paced near the large window, the golden hues of Coruscant's late afternoon light filtering through the curtains, casting warm rays over her and the small bundle cradled against her chest. Yvaine, only a few months old, had just finished feeding and now rested peacefully in her mother's arms, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Valery's tunic.

Despite the serenity of the moment, Valery's mind was anything but still. The weight of the Order, the conflicts across the galaxy, the struggles her students faced — it all lingered in the back of her mind, a never-ending current of duty and responsibility. But she pushed it aside, focusing instead on the slow rise and fall of Yvaine's breath, the warmth of her tiny body nestled against her own.

Then, the chime of the door rang out.

Valery blinked, momentarily pulled from her thoughts. She shifted Yvaine slightly in her arms, careful not to disturb the infant too much as she moved toward the door. With a wave of her hand, the panel slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing Everest standing there, looking—

Tired.

No, exhausted.

Valery's fiery gaze softened immediately, her Jedi instincts sensing the storm of emotions beneath the young Echani's exterior. Even without reaching for the Force, it was plain to see — the slight hesitance in her posture, the way her silvery hair had been fussed with but not quite tamed, the dark circles beneath her eyes that no amount of preparation could truly hide.

Yvaine let out a small coo, shifting slightly in her mother's arms, and Valery instinctively rocked her with a gentle motion before offering Everest a warm smile.

"Hey, sweetheart," Valery greeted softly, her voice kind but perceptive. "Come in."

She stepped aside to let Everest enter, already knowing that whatever had kept the young woman away for the past few days wasn't something simple. Something had shaken her deeply. And Valery had a feeling she knew exactly what.

But first, Everest needed to settle. To breathe.

So as the door closed behind them, Valery simply asked, "Have you eaten yet?" Her tone was gentle, but the warmth behind her words made it clear — Everest wasn't alone in whatever she was carrying.

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Master Noble was so kind. Why was she always so kind to her, when she wasn't ever able to do anything to earn such kindness? Everest's eyes didn't meet the Grandmaster's, but they flitted to the young infant in her arms for a moment. The sleeping baby was incredibly sweet, and Eve felt that her presence would suddenly ruin whatever peaceful moment mother and child had just held. She should just leave. She should just go back to her dorm again. Maybe she should just go back to Eshan—

But Valery had already seen to it that she was welcomed in, and leaving now would offend her, perhaps even hurt her, and that would be the last thing she wanted to do, especially with her little one there. So she stepped through timidly without a word, still not able to meet the Master's gaze. The room immediately felt inviting and warm, its peaceful atmosphere beckoning her in.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Again, the Master's kindness shone effortlessly, but the question made Eve's attention turn to her stomach. No, she hadn't eaten, and she was unsure when the last time she did. On the shuttle back from Jedha? Or on the day they landed back at the temple? Had she eaten anything since then? She wasn't sure. Finally, her sunken eyes looked to Valery's, but words wouldn't come, and she instead shook her head.

For a moment, Eve was lost in those fiery eyes. The power and confidence they held was always so awe-inspiring to her. They spoke of such immense wisdom, strength, braveness and love. All the qualities she was missing. All the qualities she had failed in finding within herself. And as if the mere locking of their eyes was enough to see herself reflected back at her, tears had already begun to stream down her face, uncontrollable and silent.

Valery Noble​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The moment Everest finally lifted her gaze, Valery knew.

She had already been concerned, already noticed the exhaustion weighing down on the young Echani, but when their eyes met — when she saw that quiet, crushing storm reflected back at her — it struck her deeper than words ever could. Everest was breaking under the weight of something far heavier than mere hunger or exhaustion.

And then, without a sound, the tears began to fall.

Valery didn't hesitate.

With the same quiet care she had shown Yvaine only moments before, she moved. She stepped toward the small bassinet beside the couch, laying her daughter down with a softness that barely disturbed the child's peaceful slumber. Then she turned fully to Everest and, without a word, pulled her into an embrace.

Valery held her close, arms firm but gentle, one hand pressing soothingly against her back. She didn't rush her, didn't ask questions, didn't force her to speak. She simply held her.

"It's okay," Valery murmured, her voice warm and steady. "You're safe. I've got you."

She didn't need to say anything more. She could feel Everest trembling slightly, her body tense with the effort of holding herself together. So Valery stayed, her hand gently rubbing slow, comforting circles against Everest's back, offering her warmth, safety a moment to simply let go.

After a few moments, Valery pulled back just enough to meet Everest's gaze again, her hands settling on her arms to steady her. "Come sit," she said softly, guiding her toward the couch with quiet insistence. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just breathe."

As they sat, Valery reached for a blanket draped over the couch's arm and gently wrapped it around Everest's shoulders. Her fiery gaze never left the young woman's face, filled with nothing but patience, warmth, and understanding.

"Whatever it is," Valery said after a moment, her voice gentle but unwavering, "You don't have to carry it alone."

She wasn't just offering a meal. She wasn't just offering shelter.

She was offering herself — a listening ear and someone who cared.

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

It was all too much for her. The moment Valery pulled her in, Everest could no longer keep herself together, and she crumpled weakly into her embrace. Her silent tears grew into a restrained yet exhausted weep, as she buried her wet face into the Master's shoulder, muffled moans escaping her.

A part of her was still keenly aware of little Yvaine sleeping soundly, and something in the deeper recesses of her psyche worked diligently to stop herself from completely letting go, for fear that she would be reduced to mere screams. She would never want to do that to the Master's baby, and in many ways, this was helping to keep her from losing herself completely.

How she yearned to be sweet Yvaine, blissful and resting, warm and safe from all the horrors of the galaxy. But it was just a dream. A nightmare had been haunting her, the spectre of a terrible memory. She wasn't born for this, a mere farm girl with nothing to show for life but a field and some trees and the smell of soil. Why did she think that she, of all people, had the strength to be a Jedi? What was she even doing here?

Then Valery pulled back and gazed softly at her. Eve's eyes had become puffy and red, her nose running. She didn't remember sitting down, but the sound of the Master's voice broke through to her.

"Just breathe."

So she breathed.

Her breath was sharp and jagged, as her delicate frame shook without her consent. When Valery draped the blanket about her, it seemed to make her more upset, but only because of how unconditionally loving she was with her. She didn't deserve it.

Moments went by— what felt like hours of painful silence, interspersed with a sobbing that reverberated through her, but gradually slowed and quietened, until she could make sense of her words again. When they came, it was in a timid croak.

"I'm— I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry," she repeated weakly through sniffles. "I— I— I promised I would be strong, b-but... J-Jedha..." As thoughts turned to the memory of their excursion with the Sithspawn— how she had faced up close the gaping maw of a beast that nearly ripped her into a thousand pieces— how she was completely incapable of doing anything to help Knight Aadihr Lidos — how she had failed in maintaining any sense of composure or strength demanded of her for such an important mission— she couldn't help but think she was simply not cut out to be a member of the Order at all. She had failed Master Noble. She had failed her mother, and the memory of her father. She had failed herself.

"I— I'm not a Jedi..."

The tears returned, and if she had in any way been holding back before, it was impossible for her to now, and she melted further against Valery.

Valery Noble​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery held Everest close again, her arms wrapping around the young woman as she wept, her body trembling with the weight of everything she had been holding in. She could feel the pain in her, the raw grief and doubt clawing at her heart, and it hurt Valery to see her like this — to see someone so full of potential, so kind, so determined, break down under the belief that she wasn't enough.

She let Everest cry, let her melt against her, offering nothing but warmth and reassurance. One hand gently brushed over Everest's back in slow, soothing circles, while the other cradled the back of her head, holding her with the kind of quiet strength that only a mother could provide.

When Everest's words finally broke through the sobs, Valery exhaled softly. The statement made Valery's chest tighten — not in disappointment, but in how painfully untrue it was. Everest believed it, but she was wrong. So, so wrong. "Sweetheart," Valery murmured, tilting her head slightly so she could speak gently to Everest, "You're being far too hard on yourself."

She pulled back just slightly, just enough to see Everest's face again, her own expression radiating nothing but kindness and understanding. Her fiery eyes softened, full of warmth as she reached up to tuck a stray silver strand of hair behind the girl's ear.

"You are young. You have only just begun your training," Valery said, her voice firm but tender. "Nobody — nobody — expects you to already be some great Jedi, saving the galaxy all on your own. That isn't what being a Jedi is about."

She rested her hand against Everest's cheek, gently wiping away a few of the tears with her thumb. "You went to Jedha, and you faced horrors that would shake even the most experienced of us. You did everything in your power to help. You fought, you protected others, and despite how afraid you were, you didn't turn your back on what was right."

Her voice grew softer, filled with warmth and conviction. "That's what it means to be a Jedi. It's not about never feeling fear. It's about what you choose to do in spite of it."

She gave her a small, reassuring smile. "And you chose to stand with us. You chose to fight for others. That is more than enough."

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Everything hurt. Everest's body ached horribly all over from the constant strain that came from her whole being pushing itself relentlessly. Her chest was tight, her stomach turned without end, and her throat was coarse and dry. The moisture in her eyes blurred her vision, and her ears thumped with the loud beating of her panicked heart. Nevertheless, Master Noble's words had in some way found their way to her.

Their eyes connected whilst Valery spoke to her, and Eve could not only feel, but see the conviction and honesty in what she was telling her, pouring directly into her. It was enough to send some kind of message down to the bottom of her delicate, mourning heart, cutting through the scar tissue that had been building about it, and sow within it but the tiniest seed of light that would, one day, expand into a magnificent tree.

Eve continued to sniffle, but she was no longer arrested by uncontrollable despair, and her frail body had begun to calm to silent shaking, interrupted only by an occasional body-wide spasm that shuddered through her, as if a part of her was shedding the final vestiges of a former self. Words wouldn't come to her anymore, but she was grateful, though her mind had become so numb that it was impossible for her to even comprehend it in herself, save for some primal urge of a child, yearning for its mother.

Then exhaustion consumed her.

She didn't remember consciously laying down, but when she opened her eyes again, slow and bleary, and a slow, deep breath pulling her back into the room, she was greeted by the faint smell of fresh food, and the gentle sound of children.

Valery Noble​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery stood near the small table, setting down a plate of warm food with practiced ease. The scent of fresh bread and something savory lingered in the air, mixing with the quiet hum of the home around her. Baby Yvaine was still curled up in her bassinet, letting out the occasional sleepy coo, lost in whatever dreams a baby might have.

The soft patter of small feet filled the space between it all, and then—

"Mama!"

Valery barely had time to react before a little pair of hands gripped the fabric of her pants, a small weight pressing against her leg. She glanced down, her expression instantly softening as she reached out to ruffle Eryx's dark hair.

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked gently.

The two-year-old blinked up at her with wide green eyes, his tiny hands curling into the fabric of her robes. He didn't always have a reason when he called for her — sometimes, he just wanted her attention, wanted to be held, wanted to be with her. And Valery never minded.

She scooped him up effortlessly, settling him against her hip as she kissed the top of his head. "You're getting heavier," she teased, though she held him just as easily as she always did.

Eryx just giggled, nuzzling into her shoulder. "Mama."

Valery's smirk softened into something more tender as she swayed slightly, rubbing small, soothing circles along his back. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the subtle shift on the couch — movement.

Turning slightly, her fiery gaze landed on Everest, and she offered a warm smile, her voice carrying the same steady kindness as before.

"Ah, you're awake," she said, adjusting Eryx in her arms. "I hope you're still hungry."

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Eve's body ached, but as she stretched slowly, she felt the renewed flow of circulation slowly warm her dulled muscles. Sluggishly, she sat up, trying to get a sense of what was going on, and was relieved to finally no longer be shivering. The sharp edges of her senses had started to finally smooth and warm in a way she hadn't felt since before Jedha. Was this the first time she had slept since coming back? It certainly felt like it, and she knew she could sleep even more if given the chance, but now that she was up, she decided she'd better stay up and not intrude on Master Noble's private life too much.

But already she had offered that same familiar kindness that had penetrated Eve's wounded heart, unrelenting and drenched in a powerful, motherly love she had so desperately needed. The mere thought of it sent a tiny shudder through her that threatened to make her cry again from shear humility, but she stopped herself. She wouldn't cry, not anymore. She was done crying. Besides, she was exhausted.

Eve breathed in through her nose and she was became enraptured by the smell of food. From her days-empty stomach came a very audible groan that shuddered through her body. Placing her hand over her tummy, embarrassed, she silently nodded. The hunger she had suddenly become acutely aware of had made her nauseous, and she knew she would devour anything put in front of her.

Little Eryx looked at her with curiosity, then gave an adorable grin with a wave of his little hand. Eve waved back, perhaps more sheepishly than the boy.
"H-hi," she croaked, her throat more dry than when it was before sleep took her. But she smiled, and she found it came to her easier than she expected. Looking back at Valery, she was able to manage one more timid croak. "Thank you."

Valery Noble​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery's smile only softened at the sound of Everest's voice — small, croaky, but carrying the unmistakable warmth of someone who was slowly finding her way back to herself.

She adjusted Eryx against her hip as he waved enthusiastically at Everest, his little fingers wiggling in excitement. "Hi!" he chirped back, grinning before immediately burying his face against Valery's shoulder, just a little shy.

Valery chuckled softly, shifting her weight before nodding toward the table. "Come, sit," she urged gently. "There's plenty of food, and you need to eat."

She walked over first, settling Eryx into a small chair beside her own. The two-year-old kicked his feet idly as Valery set a plate in front of him, cutting up small pieces of food so he could manage them easily. "Here you go, sweetheart," she murmured to him before turning back to Everest, nodding toward her seat with a look that left no room for argument — only care.

The meal was warm, filling, and freshly made, a combination of simple dishes that carried the unmistakable comfort of home. Soft bread, roasted vegetables, something lightly seasoned but nourishing — nothing extravagant, but perfect for someone who needed to rebuild her strength.

"Take your time," Valery encouraged, watching Everest with steady kindness as she helped Eryx take a bite of his food. "Get comfortable. You're safe here."

It was an open invitation — not just to eat, but to settle, to breathe, to allow herself a moment where she didn't have to be anything but herself. There was no rush. No pressure. Just warmth, quiet company, and the soft giggles of a two-year-old who, halfway through his meal, had decided playing with his food was more fun than eating it.

Valery sighed, amused, as she gently wiped a bit of mashed vegetable from Eryx's cheek before flashing Everest another small smile.

"No pressure," she added lightly. "But I'd love to see you actually finish a full plate."

Everest Vale ​