Yavin IV
EXT – Day
Nothing had prepared him for the overwhelming relief and anxiety he felt when he finally returned to the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV after disappearing without a word.
Arctus had expected to be questioned by any Knights or Masters who noted his disappearance, and maybe even be reprimanded for not telling anybody who might listen. The Padawan was prepared to answer, to explain why he needed to remove himself from the Order to be able to take some time off for himself and maybe even sort out his thoughts and emotions after the failed invasion attempt to this place. Despite the time that passed after that event, the mental scars it left on the Corellian flared the moment he set foot on the Temple.
The first few days after his return, Arctus had been aloof and reserved, dodging any and all inquiry made in public as to why he left. He had no desire to speak about his cycling depression so out in the open. He didn't need anyone's pity, but above all he didn't want to be anyone else's sad discovery. The man would talk, could talk, but only to those who might understand that what he needed the most was a listening ear and not a saint who would take it upon themselves to fix him.
The world's smallest violin
Really needs an audience,
Arctus, like so many poor sods in the galaxy, was a broken man. But he would rather stay broken rather than let a stuck up, self-righteous, holier-than-thou, pretentious prick who would claim to fix him. He wasn't a charity case. The responsibility of fixing himself, of solving his own issues, fell on his hands.
So if he doesn't find somebody soon...
He didn't need pity, or sadness, from other people. He needed only their honesty and sincerity, because that was what he would offer anyone in return.
Indy was one of the Jedi who offered him both. Her words and actions have always been sincere. But she was not here – Arctus didn't even know where she was right now, and her disappearance was one of the burdens he carried. The Padawan was still so convinced that they could help each other with their own, differing grief.
He'll blow up into smithereens–
But she wasn't here. Her acceptance of him a gift, and her disappearance a curse.
She had taught him when she was present. Now there was no one he could trust with his darkest secrets within these temple walls.
(He could always tell Ruzaan and Clove. He couldn't though – at least not yet.)
(When, then?)
–and spew his tiny symphonies–
The Padawan walked down the beaten path towards the plateau where he once sat attending one of Knight Okun's lessons. It had been one of his first real shots at letting an experienced Jedi Knight know about what Master Indyana Sati knew. But the kind Morellian Knight had disappeared, too, off to missions offworld.
Clad in his Padawan garb for the first time in ages, Arctus took in the sight of the treetops below and settled himself on the grass. He'd been taught that meditation helped the mind be at ease, and he hoped that it would do just that.
–all up and down these forest trees–
–while trying to put his mind at ease–
@Charles