Note: I love Shatterpoint lineage but writing female characters doesn't come easy to me... Still, I hope you enjoy! :)
@juneofdoom
Padawan Depa Billaba injures herself while sparring and somehow misses the chance to tell her master. Not that Master Windu won't figure her out, sooner or later. He is not as disappointed as she feared.
Depa didn’t exactly plan to lie Master Windu like that. She doesn’t like to lie to him in general because he figures her out sooner or later anyways, and when he does, he usually isn’t amused at all.
This lie, however, was simply the results of a sparring session with her sister in the early morning that went down the hill at some point. Sar had been away on a mission for the last few months and during her time away, she had become surprisingly quick in combat
It was Depa’s mistake, really, to underestimate the speed with which she was able to strike back, making Depa stumble and fall from the platform. The pain that shoots through her shoulder is immediate, sharp, stretching all the way into her fingertips.
She barely manages to suppress a sharp cry, forces herself to lie down on the floor. Sar is by her side immediately, landing cattishly on the floor.
“Depa. I’m so sorry,” she starts, crouching down next to her and helps her sit up.
“I’m good,” Depa forces out, trying to get the air back into her lungs while pushing herself up with her good arm.
The one she fell on feels numb, all the way up to the shoulder where searing pain bleeds into her collarbone and up her neck.
“Are you sure?” Sar frowns, a worried look on her face. “I can take you to the Halls of Healing if you’d like.”
“No,” Depa answers, quickly. “I’ll just put some ice on it.”
She does exactly that once she returns to the quarter rooms and peaks inside to learn that luckily Master Windu isn’t around. She can barely move her arm, it hangs down by her side almost entirely useless.
That night she soon realizes that maybe hiding her injury was a bad idea. For a long moment, she ponders on seeing Master Windu about it.
Depa decides against it, mostly because she only recovered from a fever a few weeks ago. Not being able to train was getting annoying. She suspects that Master Windu found it annoying too.
Her excuses for why she doesn’t have time for training last all of two days before Master Windu manages to corner her and she knows that there isn’t an excuse that will save her from a sparring match now.
Still, at first she flees to her room. Tries to steel herself, tries to make her arm mobile, tries to talk herself through the exercise.
It’s no use, she still can barely move her arm and every soft stretch sparks pain in her shoulder, bringing tears to her eyes.
“Depa.” Oh no, Mace has that tone in his voice. She immediately knows that she is busted. Did she let her force shields slip?
“May I come in?” She tries to whip her face with her good arm swiftly, but she barely manages before Master Windu gently opens the door a sliver.
“You may,” she answers, trying to sound as neutral as possible.
Mace enters slowly but when he spots her sitting on the floor, he is by her side almost immediately, carefully wrapping an arm around her.
“Padawan. Can you tell me what is wrong?”
Depa sniffles and wipes away some more tears.
Mace gently presses the back of his hand against her cheek before brushing his hand over her hair. The braids are two days old and usually she takes way better care of her hair, redoes it every morning even if it ends up in the same style. Now there are strands and fuzz sticking out, making the entire thing look messy.
“I fell on my shoulder,” she mutters, starring at the ground.
Mace can feel the pain radiating from her smaller body. It worries him greatly. The last two days, she has felt off in the force but now all her shields seem to be crumbling.
No wonder, she looks beyond exhausted. Her pale face only makes the eyebags stand out more clearly.
“May I see?” He requests.
Depa nods and unfolds the first layer of robs, pushing them off her shoulder clumsily.
At first glance, Mace can see that there is something wrong with the limb. It looks… just a little off. There is a dip over her collarbone that he is pretty sure shouldn’t be there.
He rests his hand over the curve of her shoulder, noticing the bright, hot pain rising from it.
She pales further which is truly impressive, considering the skin around her nose and forehead are already rivaling the white of her sheets.
“I assume this injury is already two days old?” At least, that is when he noticed that she was avoiding him. At first, Mace had attributed her odd behaviour to some sort of minor inconvenience. Apparently he was wrong. It is a surprise— and somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks it is a display of skill— that she managed to shield him from noticing her pain.
Depa nods. Mace sighs.
He gently wraps his hand around her healthy upper arm.
“Up you get, Spitfire. This demands a trip to the healers.”
She gets to her feet, and he stirs her down the hall before she can start to argue. Mace knows how stubborn she can be.
It seems like she has no fight left to give. The way she complies so easily worries Mace. She sticks close to his side, and he does his best to shield her from any curious gazes.
It takes Healer Apprentice Vokara Che one look at Depa to determine that her shoulder is dislocated.
“You should not drag an injury like this around for longer than a few hours. Next time come and see us immediately,” she lectures.
Mace stands to the side while the blue Twi’lek examines Depa’s arm more closely. His padawan is sitting sunken together on the edge of the biobed, lets the older teen talk.
Finally, Vokara turns to Mace. He face is a picture of focus.
“I will go talk to the Chief Healer and then we can fix this right away,” she explains.
Mace nods which seems to be good enough for her, since she turns around and hurries off into the mace of the Halls of Healing.
Mace takes a few steps towards Depa and sits down by her side, resting an arm around her. She leans her cheek against his shoulder. One of her buns brushes against his face and he thinks that she should probably offer to redo her hair for her. It must bother her greatly.
“Don’t lie to me,” he says, quietly to not disturb the healing silence in the halls.
“I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
“It was.” He lets the silence linger for a few moments, partially to make sure she actually learns her lesson. If she pulls more of stunts like this one, Mace fears he will go grey before her apprenticeship ends.
“Would you like me to braid your hair?” He finally breaks the silence.
Depa looks up at him, still with wet eyes but also nods barely noticeable.
