Hera Syndulla (
for_everyone) wrote2018-08-12 12:00 pm
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Hera never brings him food herself. She does usually help prepare it – she has a better sense of the Terran diet than most, and when it comes down to it, she doesn't fully trust the others not to poison a meal they know is going to their half-Terran 'guest.' But she always finds someone she does trust to take it into him. And then, at first, she'd waited, leaving him to eat alone before she entered his room.
She kept to the first. But the second, she gradually eased. Hera remembered how total her isolation had been, and what had eased in her when she'd grown used to sharing meals. That was something she could do, even if she wouldn't serve him.
So the time she waits becomes shorter and shorter. Until today, when it's only a few minutes after seeing Muroc exit the makeshift cabin that she approaches. She nods to the guard, and then though she doesn't have to, she knocks on the door. She doesn't wait for an answer before entering the room.
She kept to the first. But the second, she gradually eased. Hera remembered how total her isolation had been, and what had eased in her when she'd grown used to sharing meals. That was something she could do, even if she wouldn't serve him.
So the time she waits becomes shorter and shorter. Until today, when it's only a few minutes after seeing Muroc exit the makeshift cabin that she approaches. She nods to the guard, and then though she doesn't have to, she knocks on the door. She doesn't wait for an answer before entering the room.
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And he waits, hands clasped behind his back, for Hera to open the door.
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Hera doesn't acknowledge any of this, though she does frequently blink back to Kanan, and the guard walking behind them.
After about five minutes, she stops at another door, and opens it. The guard takes up a position standing by it, and as Hera enters the room, lights lined along the ceiling flicker on. It is a larger room, and mostly empty, except for a steel cupboard in one corner, a few hooks along the wall, and set of black mats laid out along the floor.
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Right now it's a no-go.
Some of that stiffness falls away as he enters the room behind Hera, studying the setup with surreptitious glances.
(The back of his neck still prickles with awareness of the guard, sometimes. This is one of those times.)
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She pauses after setting the pitcher down again, for a few seconds just staring down at the cups. But then, she shakes her head a little, and lifts up the cup, before walking back over to Kanan.
"I take it they didn't teach you much about other species." she asks, as she holds out one of the cups to him.
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Kanan shakes his head, reaching out reflexively to take the proffered cup.
"At least -- nothing that I wanted to learn."
Which was certainly a disappointment to his father. Wanting to take people apart is a useful talent in the Terran Empire.
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She pauses long enough to take a sip from her own cup. "It's a Klingon martial arts form called Mok'bara."
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"This isn't some half-baked excuse to break all my bones, right?"
Then he shakes his head.
"No, sorry, I know you wouldn't -- "
She'd just do it, is the thing, no excuses necessary. So this really is what she says it is.
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"Mok'bara is the basis for many Klingon combat techniques. But its purpose is to clear your mind, and to help you stay calm and focused."
She suspects it goes without saying that this is something he could probably use.
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He leaves the 'calm' part alone, largely because that's the more true piece of things.
"That'd be . . . nice."
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She holds her hand out to take his cup back, so she can set them both down by the side of the mat. They'll need their hands free, after all.
"- I'll start to walk you through it."
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He leaves about half the water in the cup, holding it out to Hera.
"Thanks."
Maybe it's too soon to say that, but --
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"All right," she says, as she returns to him. And then, for the first time, she turns her back to him, her arms held loosely her side.
"Take a wide stance, feet about a shoulder width apart." She shifts her left foot as she speaks. "You want to feel centered and grounded, like nothing move you."
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It seems like a good idea, suddenly.
"On the balls of my feet, right? Or -- planted, like a tree."
It's a question, even as he shifts his legs into the indicated stance, awkwardly looking at the way Hera's holding herself so that he can better mimic it.
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"That's right. Now, lift your hands -" She does the same as she speaks, lifting her hands in front of her face, palms down, letting her fingertips barely brush as she lowers them again. Though she keeps her eyes ahead, she angles herself so Kanan can follow her movements. "- and then down again -"
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"And down . . . "
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After the third repetition, she stops, and turns, watching to see if he can move through them on his own, without her demonstration.
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He makes do.
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"All right," she says. "How do you feel?"
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"But . . . focused."
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"Don't feel that you have to rush through it," she says as she moves. She takes a steady pace, each step flowing smoothly into the next. "It's not about getting to the end, or worrying about your next step. It's about helping you stay in the moment."
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His voice is tight, and it matches the frown on his face, but -- he does take a deep breath and stop trying to rush it.
At least for a little while.
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She keeps moving as she speaks, and as they reach the end of the sequence, she adds,
"There's no one waiting to attack you, Kanan. Not right now."
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He doesn't look at her.
"Not in this room, maybe."
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"It's a start."
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"Oh. Uh. You're right. It is."
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