sol·ace n. 1. Comfort in sorrow, misfortune, or distress; consolation.

After a moment, she took a breath, then exhaled deeply, so that she started to sink to the bottom of the pond. She kept still and her eyes open as she rested on the silt-laden bottom, gazing up through the water at the trees again. She remained there for another thirty seconds or so, weightless, thoughtless, suspended in time and space, before having to surface again when her lungs started to burn. The chill air that greeted her wet skin felt like ice, and she shrunk back into the water, though it provided her with little warmth.

She couldn’t stay in the water for much longer, or else she’d freeze, and she didn’t want to get out, because she’d freeze. Life was so difficult sometimes.

The water was just cold enough that she guessed she could get hypothermia from remaining too long in it, even though it was only about twenty degrees cooler than her internal body temperature.

She hovered anxiously in the water for a few moments, gazing longingly at her outer garments tossed on the grassy shore of the pond. With a quick, skyward glance, she decided to get out.

Oh Force the air was cold. She shot out her hands and bundled her wet self up in her dry clothes, a feeble attempt to guard herself from the onslaught of the cool breeze. She darted around and across the bridge, down the path, and back in the direction of the Pavilion. At least she wouldn’t be sleeping with complete strangers.

Night was falling fast on her heels as she ran down a little hill and into the wide basin of the Pavilion. There was a fountain in the center that bubbled benignly, and lanterns were lit inside the bedrooms nestled in the roots of the trees.

Pippin looked up and saw her, but didn’t rush over to her. He just continued what he was doing. Boromir saw her too, and walked over to her when she stopped in front of all eight of them, shivering like a madman. Her ears were cold, her nose was cold, and her feet were cold.

Can you get me a blanket? she pleaded to no one in particular, hoping that one of them would get her something warm to put over herself. The Padawan sneezed and sniffled. Merry, who just then noticed her presence, jumped up to retrieve a thick wool blanket from a bed. He scuttled over to where she pitifully stood and handed it to her. Adai dropped her clothes on the ground and wrapped herself in the blanket tightly. After the initial relief in the warmth of the blanket around her, she sighed and sat down at the base of the fountain, covering every inch of her body except her face. Then she noticed that three of the others that she hadn’t communicated with before were still looking at her strangely. Adai watched them as the tallest of the bunch, a dark haired man that looked to be in his thirties or forties, addressed Boromir without taking his eyes off her. Boromir replied.

Uncertainty, she felt. A bit of hostility? No… caution, yes. She studied the man’s face, and then to the other one who was watching her, a light-haired man dressed in grey, and then to the stout one with a grizzly beard. Her eyes then drifted to the remaining two humanoids, the other two short ones. One was a bit chubby (he radiated with a defensive aura), and the other was thinner. She looked at him for a while, studying him, reading him. Adai closed her eyes to read him… and when she was finally able to do so, the energy overwhelmed her. It was dark, malicious, covered up by grief and worry. And somehow, she was able to catch his name: Frodo. It seemed that her visual analysis of this individual was an unwelcome gesture, and suddenly the dark-haired man jumped up and walked briskly over to her. She was scared of what he was going to do, and was prepared to fight back if necessary, but it didn’t come to that. Boromir caught his shoulder and said something to him, which seemed to calm him down a bit, and after a brief word with him, continued to walk in her direction; this time, with less hostility.

He knelt in front of Adai, and she bundled herself up in her blanket even more as his eyes bored little holes in her, and pointed to himself, saying: “Aragorn.”

He then pointed to her, awaiting her answer. The Padawan didn’t want to have to verbally communicate if it meant doing so in such a primitive manner, so she just sent him a thought.

My name is Adai Seth, a Jedi-in training under the instruction of my mistress, the Jedi Mala Visjeri.

Aragorn pondered this for a moment, and stole a glance at Boromir before turning back to her. “Jedi?” he asked slowly.

“Jedi.”

Adai closed her eyes and sent him snippets of lectures some Jedi Masters have given Padawans. Master Obi-Wan, Master Yoda, Master Windu. She sent him memories of some of her friends back at home, like Doran and Tamubi. She sent him images of student lightsaber duels.

When she was done, Aragorn still didn’t seem to believe what he saw. He looked at her skeptically, as if she were not well in the head, but the voices of Merry and Pippin broke the silence as they chattered away at him. Aragorn nodded to shut them up and turned to her again.

He drew a breath, then paused, as if he were thinking of what to say, seeing as they couldn’t verbally communicate. Adai shivered again at another chill breeze, and Aragorn called at Merry and Pippin for help. The two humanoids stood next to him on the grass as he asked them a question. “Oh!” she heard Merry say, and it was followed with a verbally complex series of syllables and accompanied by hand gestures and interruptions by Pippin. “Ah,” Aragorn said, and turned one again to the Padawan. He pointed to his head and then touched his finger to her forehead, right between the eyes, then grabbed her hands and put them on his temples.

So that’s what he wanted her to do. Easy enough.

She opened her mind to him, and she felt him do the same. It was surprising how clear and collected his thoughts were…. It was nothing like Pippin’s muddled memories that she read earlier that day.

In fact, all she could get from him was blackness. No thought, feeling, or emotions to read. Then there came a question from the nothingness.

How did you get here?

Adai stiffened, and she could tell that Aragorn noticed. I can’t tell you.

And why not?

Who I am should be enough.

You could be a threat to our journey, though you do not seem to be a pawn of the Enemy.

I have no idea what you’re talking about. Then she remembered Frodo, sitting on his bed. She felt as if he was collapsing in on himself like an old star, and would soon be nothing but a black hole.

I doubt your sincerity, girl. You will remain in the custody of the Elves until we are three days ahead.

I’m telling the truth. I don’t mean any of you any harm, and it’s not my intention to jeopardize anything! I can’t tell you how I got here for your own sake.

It would be for your sake.

Adai bristled at his thought. What journey were hey talking about? What Enemy? She was apart of no such organization of any kind of evil... she was in the Jedi order, for Force sake! They kept tabs on the galaxy... like a sort of galactic police. She was one of the good guys. But she couldn't tell him that... she didn't know what would happen. But then why did she tell Anessen? She hadn't, entirely... she didn't tell him how she got stuck on the planet either. Or about her ship... and R4. If she told them what happened, they might force her to take them up into the mountains, and show them the crash site. The Padawan swallowed.

I can't.

Aragorn had had enough. He removed her hands from the sides of his head, rose and walked away, talking to the others of the company in a frustrated, and slightly angry tone.

Night was upon the forest and Adai Seth curled up in her blanket and brought her clothes closer to her and she huddled against the base of the fountain. Merry and Pippin looked at her from where they sat in their beds in the tree roots. She suspected that Aragorn didn’t want any of them talking to her.

After a few minutes, Adai stood up and gathered her things as she headed for the opposite end of he Pavilion and to another tree. A single lantern was lit inside the tiny cavernous space that the roots made, and she made a comfy little spot on the soft cot that was there. She blew out the light, and, making sure she was alone, proceeded to remove her wet clothes from under the blanket, and lay them out on a root nearby so that they would dry. She curled up into a cold, wet, pathetic ball inside her blanket and under the covers of the bed, especially now that she was naked. No would bother waking her up in the middle of the night, and if she did, she could just wear the blanket.

The Padawan lifted her head once more, gazing to the other side of the Pavilion where the eight others were, comfortable in each other’s company, and watched as a last light from the inside was put out. She let her head fall to the pillow and drifted off to a dead sleep after a long while.